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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years

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Porcelain Doll

A/N: My first Steve story on Tumblr! And I think my first every Mafia AU for Steve ever... lets hope this goes well. Enjoy! Pairing: Mafia!Steve x F!Reader Word count: 2,909 Warnings: Mentions of weapons, swearing, angst.

(I don’t know the owner of this Gif, but it’s not mine. Just wanted to mention that.)

Being weaved within the world of mafia was a choice that you had willingly made.

When you said 'I do' you vowed to be with Steve til death do you part. Literally. Divorces were not only unheard of within the culture of bosses, it was a death wish. No secret could be leaked by an unhappy wife.

Granted, you had never dreamed of leaving Steve. The perfect man, who was stubborn at times, but you could always break past those barriers of ignorance he occasionally put up. In fact, you could bulldoze right through.

And you were the only one that could. Not Bucky, Sam, or Nat could compare to your ability to have that man breaking down every little secret he had stored in that mind of his. At the snap of your finger with him, your wish was his command.

You only had one duty to do, other than be faithful and loving to your husband: you had to oblige by mafia rules that were set for you. They weren't too overwhelming, it was a very limited amount. But it was enough so Steve could watch you like a vulture, if he wanted to.

And technically speaking, you could play his puppet whenever he pleased, and you wouldn't have the option to say no. He never enforced such power, always honoring your freedom and independence. But right now, he didn't have a choice.

"Babe, I need you to do this." He begged from behind his large wood desk, his study lit by antique lamps which cascaded their light onto polished mahogany surfaces.

"Steve, I will not be in another man's arms." You stated, fighting right back. Your arms over your chest, bottom lip easing out of it's hold with a pout.

"Sweetheart, you have to do this!" He elaborated, on the verge of defeat, his face now looking at the floor as his blue eyes scanned over his two feet, contemplating his next move.

"Do I have to though? Why not Nat, or- or someone else!" You threw your hands up in frustration. "I mean, seriously Steven, you cannot be for real right now-"

"Enough!" He rose his voice, the lion's roar booming through the room and ricocheting on the books and stained glass right into your chest. "You will be doing this. And you do not have an option." He emphasized, slamming his fist down. You flinched at the 'thump' that came as a result of the impact. He took a deep breath settling down, his gaze still facing downwards.

He took a few more breaths, moving his head up to meet your face. His eyes filled with a black void of heartlessness and atrocious intentions transitioned into a wave of calming blue, his pupils frantically searching your face as he realized he had scared you beyond your wildest thoughts. "Baby I-" He began but you stopped him soon after.

"I- I will do it." You choked out, your voice barely above a whisper, eyes filling with warm tears that began to fall gracefully down your cheeks, smudging your perfectly done makeup. You took a deep breath yourself, sniffling just a bit, before turning around and walking out of the study, arms now crossed tighter across your chest, and your feet setting off small pitter patters as you hurried yourself across of the rustic hardwood flooring.

Closing the grand doors behind you, Steve let out a sigh and a huff, turning around "Damn it!" He yelled, taking his large fist to the wall. He never intended to hurt you in any capacity, just like he never intended to punch that now crumbling hole in the plaster wall behind his desk, but mistakes happen. Only this was a grave mistake on his part.

You were rushing to your shared bedroom, quiet sobs leaving your mouth. Covering your face as best you could to try and prevent anyone from knowing, your ran up the glass stairs and to the second floor. "Y/N/N?" You heard Bucky's voice coo. You chose to ignore him and moved even faster than before to your room, where you locked the door. Crashing on the Egyptian cotton sheets, which swallowed you in great warmth and comfort, you sobbed into one of your sleeves, choosing not to subject your pillow to such a burden.

"What the fuck did you do?" Bucky marched into Steve's office, uninvited but not giving a thought to it. Looking behind where his boss and best friend sat, head in his hand, was the very hole in the wall Steve had just caused. “You idiot!” He scoffed, walking over and leaning over his desk. “Why was Y/N just running down the hall sobbing?” Steve took a heavy sigh, not looking up.

“I fucked up, big time.” Steve explained. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“So you told her?” He asked and Steve nodded. “How did you do it?” “How do you think, Buck?” Steve fired back.

“Judging by your crying wife and the whole in the wall, you fought.” “Yes, I fought.” He clarified, “I yelled at her. She fought back saying she didn’t wanna do it, I lost my patience.” “You stupid Punk.” Bucky laughed a bit, Steve looking up with a confused look, “You thought she would react any differently?”

“Well, maybe more cooperatively-” Steve began, but was interrupted.

“You’re asking your wife to go and flirt with your rival in a sleazy little dress that’s basically lingerie with a few pieces of fabric connecting it.” He sighed, “You’re asking the woman who loves you, who would literally die for you to go out with another man, and you expect her to be on board? If she reacted positively I would be more concerned.” “Well I didn’t think she would react positively, per se.” Steve rebutted, “Maybe just a little more willingly.” “You still don’t know a damn thing about women.” Bucky sighed, “You have the most loyal, loving, beautiful wife probably sobbing in bed right now because you scared the shit out of her. And you’re gonna sit here and just act like a fool?” He asked, “Why don’t you go apologize? That would be a good place to start.” “I probably should.” Steve leaned back in his chair, getting up and marching out.

He powered through your spacious and modern penthouse, making haste knowing the time was ticking. Approaching your bedroom door he took a deep breath, standing outside and giving it a soft knock. “Baby?” He cooed outside, leaning into the door to hear you soft sobs, “Doll?” He twisted the knob on the door, noticing it was locked. He sighed with annoyance. “Baby, c’mon now let me in.” “No.” You responded, holding your pillow in your lap like a child.

“Baby doll,” He softly said, “C’mon now, I just wanna apologize.”

“I said no.” You repeated again, this time more aggravation in your voice. He took a sigh.

“If you don’t willingly open this door up, I’ll open it up for you.” He warned. You huffed, still firm on your decision. “Fine.” He murmured, running back downstairs and into one of the side rooms, where he went in one of the drawers, picking up a key. Running right back, and up stairs, he placed the small metal object in the key hole, turning it and letting himself in.

You groaned, sitting back on the back of the bed, rolling your eyes. “Fuck you.” You spat out at him. He scoffed.

“C’mon babe, we both know you don’t mean that.” “Please,” You scoffed right back, “If I didn’t mean it then why did I say it?”

“Baby doll,” He sighed, smirking at you, “I love you. And I came here to apologize.” You pouted at him, keeping a straight face.

“Do you mean it?” You questioned, raising one of your eyebrows, looking at him. He nodded. “How do I know?” Your husband walked over to you, laying in bed on his side. You scooted further over to yours, trying to expand the space between you two.

“Baby,” He said softly, his words sounding like music to your ears, but you refused to look at him, “Sweetheart.” He said again, you still refused to move. He took your chin, softly in his large, warm hand. Moving your head to face his, he bent down and kissed you softly. Fireworks of tenderness exploded in your chest, as you hummed out of instinct. He smile lightly into the kiss.

“Because I love you, more than anything in this world.”

“Fine.” You reluctantly sighed, “I forgive you.” You stated, swallowing roughly. “I’m sorry I fought back, I should have gone with the plan.” “No, I understand why you did.” He nodded, “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you and let you see that side of me. You don’t deserve anything near that.” You nodded, leaning your head onto his shoulder. He tenderly kissed the top of your head, taking your smaller hand in his.

“How do you feel?” Bucky asked with a heavy sigh of disapproval as you looked in the mirror at this tiny black fabric that was a disgrace of a dress.

“Exposed, slutty, sleazy, whore-ish, should I continue?” You turned back to he and Steve, your husband clearly enjoying the view, taking his bottom lip in his mouth, “Hey!” You snapped at him, to which he escaped his trance, “Eyes on mine, not my ass.”

“C’mon now.” Bucky got up, sighing again in frustration. “We gotta go.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and walking out feeling beyond embarrassed for this apparel. A lot of mafia wives wore similar outfits to the one you had on, borderline stripper. You preferred classy and elegant, this was far from your cup of tea.

Getting out of the solid black car, you took a final deep breath, stepping out to begin playing your loose persona. Black pumps pattered on the ground as your walked into the mansion, your red lipstick curling up into a nice smile as you began greeting people.

The women were green with envy, their eyes filled with both red flames of jealousy and blue waves of fear. The men acted like dogs and pigs, looking you up and down like the cheap piece of meat you were acting out. You hated it, you truly did. Everything about the ordeal was already wrenching enough.

You were greeted by one of the server’s and a glass of much needed champagne. You wanted to down it, let the pain simmer away, but you slowly sipped as a proper lady would. Ironic with the outfit.

Looking around at the large ball room of people chatting, you finally found your target. His ridiculously untamed black hair, barely shaved face lined with wrinkles and harsh eyes were enough to let you know that was Brock Rumlow.

You walked over to him, a small smile on your face despite the pure growl underneath it. Making sure to jut your hips out a bit more, you immediately caught his attention.

“Well, well, well,” His voice echoed to you, as you kindly smiled now across from him, his suit not fitted well you noticed. “If it isn’t Mrs. Rogers.” “Please, Mr. Rumlow.” You played your character, “No formalities needed, Y/N, is just fine.”

“Hm,” He hummed with brief thought, “I thought the Rogers’ clan always took great pride in the name.” “Well,” You sighed, taking a sip of your drink, “Some things change.” “Oh?” He asked, “Like what?”

“Loyalty, trust, one’s pleasure.” You smirked, he clearly caught on. Fast.

“Pleasure, you say?” He inquired.

“You heard me right.” You sighed.

“So why’d you come to me?” He asked again, trying to act dumbfounded.

“You know why, Mr. Rumlow.” You stated. He hummed and nodded once.

“Follow me.”

He guided you through the winding whirlwinds of people, up one of the various grand staircases. Down the darkly lit hallway and into one of the bedrooms.

You didn’t want to jinx yourself, but so far this was too easy. Granted, it was Brock Rumlow. He was a loose cannon, the opposite of Steve. Steve ran a tight ship, the organization was established with concrete and stone foundations. Rumlow was some sticks put together. He left paper trails and greasy fingerprint all over his business, leaving Steve a laundry list of reasons to get rid of his rival.

His hands grabbed your hips, and as much as you wanted to pull away, you had to let him have you, if even for the next minute. You pretended to be okay, but no enjoyment was very much visible. He didn’t seem to notice. His hands reached down along your curves, moving and grabbing your ass. You could feel his breath reach your face, his lips inches away from yours.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were about to engage in a kiss with a man you despised, the next you were held at gunpoint in a headlock by the very same man. You opened you eyes calmly, looking around to see a dozen of Steve’s men from all angles, guns pointed at Rumlow’s head. The cool point of the weapon was on the side of your head, your hands tightly at your sides. “Let her go, Rumlow.” Steve walked in, staring at him. “If you wanna make it out alive, let her go.”

He harshly laughed, “Oh please,” He stated, “It’s not like I’d want to make it out alive by your dirty hands anyways.” “I’m pretty sure I’m not the one stealing other peoples property.” He barked, “So stop touching mine.” You remained calm, keeping your breath steady just like Steve had always told you to do.

The room fell silent. You could feel Rumlow’s fingers move on the gun ever so slightly, prompting you to know he was cocking it. With one easy move, you took your left elbow, smashing it into his chin behind you. He fell back with a groan, gun being thrown which you managed to catch with ease, like Nat had taught you. Cocking it yourself, you pointed it at the man now on the ground.

Looking back, Steve stood in partial awe and confusion at the site. You with the very gun you were threatened with now pointed at your attacker. “Take ‘em.” Steve stated, as numerous men went and grabbed him up, tying him with duct tape as he wailed for help. You walked over to Steve as he walked over to you, his fingertips tracing your jawline, “Are you alright?” He asked, face turning to concern. You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He grabbed your waist, giving you a deep kiss, using one of his hands to run it through your once perfectly done hair.

“Where did you learn that?” He muttered, you lightly laughed.

“Nat.” You smirked into his ear.

“Doll you could’ve hurt yourself-” “Steve.” You insisted, placing one of your hands on his chest, “I’m not a porcelain doll. I married into mafia, I can’t be.” He sighed, looking away only for a brief moment of thought before turning back to you.

“I know you’re not.” He muttered, “I’m just worried.” You nodded.

“I know.” You caressed his cheek with your hand, “You always are.” You both lightly laughed, smiling at each other and lost in each other’s passion for one another despite little to no conversation taking place.

“Uh, hey boss.” Sam walked in somewhat awkwardly, knocking on the door. Steve turned around, hands still placed on your hips as your attention was now on Sam as well, “We might wanna go, like, now, so no one suspects anything.” “Yeah, right.” Steve dropped his hands from you, grabbing one of yours to lead you out one of the secret back doors and into one of the cars. You squeezed in next to Steve, him placing a hand on your thigh lovingly.

“So, when do I get a raise?” You gazed out the window at the various cars passing by.

“Your raise?” Steve scoffed, “What raise?” You sighed heavily.

“I did most of that job for you.” You rolled your eyes. “Got the target, took his weapon, got him on the ground.”

“Doll, it wasn’t that easy-” “It seemed that easy.” He sarcastically laughed.

“You’re insatiable sometimes.” He rolled his eyes.

“Using big words now, are we?” You turned to him, “I could use a bigger pay too.” “Fine.” He gave in, “What do you want.”

“A long weekend, just you and me, no work, in Napa Valley.” He gave you a confused look, “You heard me.” “Doll that’s a little much don’t you think-” “Four days.” “Sweetheart-” “Five.” “Honey I can’t-” “Six.”

“There’s not even that many wineries, I-” “One week.” “Fine!” He huffed, “One fucking week in Napa, no work no nothing. Excluding emergencies, where I will make it up to you somehow. Good enough?”

“Nat and Bucky need to be there too.” You retorted, “Staying at a different house, keep in mind.” “Babe, where will they stay?” “Steven, you have three houses out there, figure it out.” You scoffed.

“Fine. But that’s it.” He began, “This is your reward for your hard work.”

“Hard work? I would describe it more as flawless.” He eyed you, shooting a glare. “I love you.” You kindly smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Now when we get home you’re gonna plan that trip, right?” “What do you mean I-” “Well, it’s not like it’ll plan itself.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mcu #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfictio #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #mob!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #mafia!steve rogers x you #mafia!steve rogers x y/n

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jennsmischievousmind · 3 years

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Chaos Therapy

Session #4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You were assigned to a field mission, with particulars co-agents, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. One mission turned into multiples. After each missions you are debriefed by a therapist, Dr Noach just as Sam and Bucky. Thing is, they don’t know that you are much more than an agent.

Warnings: pining, bit of angst, Buck/Sam bickering, violence (fights against enemies), mild swearing (still real bad at warnings)

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

“Lettonia?” You fastened your weightlifting gloves looking back at Bucky.

“We have a lead on Zemo.” his face fell a little

“Hey” you searched for his eyes “kick his ass for me,”

His smile returned a hearthy chuckle leaving his lips, hesitantly his hand reached your forearm brshing down to your fingertips, he took a step forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, your eyes closed on their own and you squeezed his hand in yours, he let his forehead rest against yours.

"See you in a few days," he whispered, you nodded and he took a step backward,

"Don't kill each other,"

"noted,"

You watch him go, his broad back passing the gym door. Your stomach immediatly churning, "Buck!" you ran out the gym, he was waiting at the elevator, "Bucky!" he panicked seeing you ran to him.

"Doll," your fingers interlaced with his dog tags, you stopped the motion your face inches from him, his eyes fall on your lips. A tug on his dog tags and your lips collided, his arms circled your back, a hand splayed on your waist the other slowly going up your spine to your nape as your free one caressed his face, feeling the pricks of his beard under your delicate fingers.

“Bucky, I .. “ the ding of the elevator distracted both of you for a second “I’ll have to tell you something,”

“you’re okay ?” the worry in his eyes had you tongue-tied, your hands tightened on his shirt. “Yea, yea just .. be careful out there,” the smile you gave him unknitted his brows, his hands brushed your arms. You couldn’t bare to tell him, not now, he will know the truth soon enough anyway. He hesitantly leaned in pecking your lips before getting on the elevator.

“What’s going on ?” Sam squinted his falcon eyes at Bucky who did everything to avoid his scrutinous look. “Oh, oooh you and Y/n finally!!” Sam let out a proud laugh, clasping Bucky’s shoulder.

“Y/N what do you make of their duo?”

“It works somehow. I know it seems unbelievable especially when you see them from the outside. The thing is, they both lose Captain Rogers, the person that believe in them both and now they can only count on each other and believe in each other that’s why it works. Sam believe in Bucky being able to heal and get redemption, while Bucky believe in Sam being worthy of the Shield. The constant bickering is their way of showing their affection. They have a strong teamwork.” you conclude.

Noach nods, all the while analyzing your features.

“Thank you, they’re another mission coming up_”

“Yes ma’am. But I’m not allowed to join them for this mission,”

“I know, I’ve talked with the Director, that’s a shame, it’s a big one,” you both stand up and she walks you to the door “Y/N” she stops “I’m planning on ending the therapy when they come back from this mission.”

“What is it?” she says seeing your face fell.

“You know exactly,” you passes your badge on the elevator sensor.

“It was necessary,”

“They won’t like it,”

“They? Or he?” you gave her a grave look, “You want me to say that I shouldn’t have engage anything with Bucky,”

“No, I don’t blame you, you’re both human attraction is normal. Though now a long discussion with him awaits you.” Your head tilt back knowing too well she was right.

Sam and Bucky were back from Lettonia, you had some undone work back in the cave you didn’t have the time to greet them yet.

“Now, in order to round off our work here, I needed a closer look at your teamwork and general relationship,”

“You bugged us, Doc?” Sam scoffed, you facepalm behind the one-way mirror.

“Not exactly. I need you to know it was necessary to prove that your duo was fit for combat,” she turned to the mirror behind her nodding. Your cue, clenching your hand on the door handle, the voices inside increased as you pushed it.

“Agent Y/F/N mission was to evaluate your compatibility and capacity to work as a team, outside those therapy sessions. Agent Y/L/N beside her I.T work is a trained therapist,”

“That’s some fucked up therapy,”

“Mr, Wilson,_” you blocked their discussion as you were focused on Bucky’s reaction. His clenched fits on his thighs, his locked jaw and his gaze fixated on the wall before him. You jumped slightly as he stood up and left the room. Noach and Sam looked at you stopping their discussion. “I’ll be right back,” quickly walking out, you breathe in deeply. Bucky’s back facing you, the tension in his stance visible.

“Bucky,..” he glanced on the side

“I’ve been lie too for a longtime Y/n, ..” taking a step forward carefully you observed his side profile “I guess you can hurt me in the end,” his voice melted with anger and sorrow stopped you, the lump in your throat getting bigger, the prickling in your eyes accentuating.

Biting your lower lip, you tried to find your voice back. Like approaching a wild wolf, you were on edge yet cautious, reaching his shoulder you softly pulled on it “Please look at me,” he turned around but his eyes never reached yours, his hands on his hips you took them gently, interlacing your fingers with his. Against what you thought he didn’t reject you. His eyes still cast away, you rested your forehead on his chest, closing your eyes, you felt his hands twitched in yours, his chest heaving a little faster.

“You have to understand,…” your murmured feeling your throat tightened.

“you could have told me!” he spoke quietly yet the tightness in his voice showed his anger.

“Really though,” an anxious smirk reached your mouth for a millisecond “it was my mission Buck. I .. I didn’t plan on falling for you, it changed a lot of things.” He stayed silent at your confession; panic took over, his silence giving you the chills. Clearing your throat after an odd silent long second, you let go of his hands, taking a step back, and took your most serious professional voice “Please come back in the room, Dr Noach has some more questions.”

Noach arched an eyebrow seeing you enter the room alone, you sat next to her, facing Sam. Like Noach predicted Sam was “easier” to get by, he was still reluctant obviously but not closed to discussion. Bucky never came back in the room, before leaving Noach gave you gentle smile squeezing your upper arm.

“You won’t have to see much of me now, don’t worry,” you said to Sam who slowed down to a stop next to the elevator.

“Well, we’re not through it yet, the director of intelligence asked to see the three of us,” you stepped into the elevator with him.

“As you know the image of super-heroes is not at his best. After the few events with the flag smashers and the chaos in Lettonia” he looked at the boys gravely “the governments are not willing to brush this away as nothing happened. Moreover, rumor has it flag smashers are still quite upset about the docks operation. I suggest you lay low for a few days, weeks maybe. I can’t have you fighting flag smashers around the country, and cause much more mishaps,”

Sam clapped is hand all of sudden, turning to you and the silent Bucky next to you “Mi casa es su casa,”

You look at them wondering, Bucky avoiding your eyes. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” you left the room after the director dismissed you.

Starting your way to the elevator you paused hearing your name, “Sam’s house is safe, and you will be safer with us,” Bucky’s concerned warmed your heart.

“Hurts me to say it but tincan’s right,”

Although you knew they were 100% right, spending 24/7 with them, moreover around Bucky, it would have been great if it wasn’t for the fact that he totally despised you at the moment.

Passing by your place you grabbed a backpack and shove a bunch of random clothes in it. Sam and Bucky were waiting in the car. Seating down on your bed, the exhaustion caught up with you, your mind going blank, staring into the void.

Bucky look in the rear-view mirror “She’s taking too long,” Sam hummed. “Maybe we should check on her,”

“Maybe,” Sam looked at Bucky, pushing up his sunglasses onto his nose, reclining his seat and crossing his arms. Bucky rolled his eyes opening the door with a bit too much force that it cried out.

A knock on your door made you jump, blue eyes met yours, he was standing there at your bedroom door. He looked around taking everything in, if you were both in another mindset it would be thrilling.

“We have to go, the longer we stay here_ “

“I know, sorry,” grabbing your pack you slide down your bed, opening on your drawer near the door you grabbed the gun in it, slipping in your pants. Bucky eyed you, hands in his pocket.

He didn’t budge as you passed by him. His aura embracing you, overwhelming your senses. Daring a glance behind at him, his eyes were lost on you, his lips moved as he was about to say something but as soon as he refocused his jaw clenched a second. “Let’s go,” he walked to the door, you squint your eyes unwilling to see him past you so coldly. A warmth enveloping the hand holding your bag brought you back, his flesh hand brushed yours as he grabbed your pack, then left without looking back.

“So, we’re just going to follow orders?”

“It cannot hurt,” Sam glanced in the rear-view mirror “we all need some time off...” The ride was so awkward Sam was trying to loosen up the mood every so often, you tried to keep up with him but at one point you were too exhausted and fell asleep.

Bucky kept glancing at your sleeping form curled in the backseat. “When we get there you two will talk!” I’m not spending a week or more with a depressed cyborg and a torned beautiful woman!” Bucky frowned at Sam, “I haven’t dealt with that kind of problem, in a while.” he sighed the all sentence.

“Well, get with it!” Sam’s voice woke you up, “Good timing, we’re here!” The light blue and white big house appeared before you. “Sam that’s a really nice place!”

“Thanks, in the family for generations!” he was rightfully proud of the building.

“Rooms are upstairs,” he turned around letting his duffle bag hit the ground, the both of you standing awkwardly 2 feet apart.

“I don’t want to hear anything…” his look paused on you then Bucky his look insisting. You rolled your eyes at the insinuation. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” You drag yourself up the wooden stairs.

“Dinner at 9, Everyone pitch in to cook, house rule,”

“Believe me Wilson, you don’t want me near fire and sharp knives.” You yelled from the landing, missing Bucky hiding a smile as he joined Sam in the living room.

“Here,’ Sam walked down the pier, handing a bottle of beer to Buck who was watching the sunset.

“You know she had to keep it from us,” Sam calmly said, his VA side resurging.

“I know,”

“And that she wouldn’t feel so bad if she didn’t care about you,” Seeing Bucky staying silent his brows knitted, Sam stood up “Man, you got to talk to her, she reached out it’s on you now,”

“You realized it’s not that easy,”

“It is, you walk up to her, show or tell her what’s on that cyborg brain of yours, and that’s it, avoiding her it’s not the right way to do it.”

After a good shower you sat by the window overlooking the pier, the boys were on the dock enjoying a beer. “It’s gonna be fine,” you pep talked yourself eyes trained on Bucky’s silhouette.

Session #5

MASTERLIST

Published: 2021-02-21 Completed: 2021-03-30

#Chaos Therapy #No spoilers #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws #tfatws imagines #tfatws fanfictions

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gloriafc · 3 years

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Single Dad

Paul never regretted having a kid at 21. He loves his daughter with his soul. He never had a relationship with his daughters mother, but he manned up and took responsibility for the baby. After a while the mother dropped her off with him and a letter. She gave him full custody and was never able to be contacted again. She sent child support, but she explained in the letter she didnt have what it took to be a mother but she'd be able to provide. It was later found out that she was doing drugs and was sent to a rehabilitation center.

You're a surgeon, you took a job as a pediatric surgeon at Forks. You only moved to La Push because your grandmother lived near the beach, leaving you her house when she passed away.

You met Paul when his daughter just turned three. Paul was lightweight scared, he never pictured having an imprint after his daughter was born. And he thought maybe the fact that he had a kid would scare you off, because he knew he'd never be able to pick anyone over his kid. He was relieved to find it didnt bother you one bit. "It kind of makes sense. Most guys I've dated tried to get me in bed on the second date. You didn't."

It didnt bother you that Paul was a few years younger than you, most people didnt even realize how old you actually were since you could pass as an eighteen year old if you did your hair a certain way. Paul was the one that had to keep up with your energy since you were used to working with kids all day.

After a few months of dating he finally decided to introduce the two of you and it couldn't of gone better. The two went to your house for dinner, your dog greeting them at the door. "Daddy. She has a doggy!" "His names Turkey, because he likes to eat a lot of Turkey." You left the screen unlocked knowing Paul was coming, he easily let his daughter in and helped her out of her coat as Turkey started sniffing her making her giggle as he licked her face in greeting. "Come on Letty. Y/Ns in the kitchen."

The evening went well in Paul's opinion. He watched as you listened to whatever story Letty was telling you as she played with Turkey. She made herself right at home, finding your movies, "You actually have happy feet 2?" You shrug and look at Paul, "I have a big family, and lots of nephews, a few nieces. Doesnt hurt that it's a good movie."

When Paul and Letty are back home and hes tucking her into bed she looks at him, "Daddy?" "What baby?" He smiles as she yawns and rubbs her eye, "I like her. Shes nice." Paul chuckles and smooths some hair out of her face, "I like her too." "I like Turkey too." Paul cant help but laugh, "I think Turkey liked the treats you kept giving him."

As a few more months have gone by you and Letty have gotten comfortable around each other, to the point where you'll watch her if Paul cant find a babysitter or if she just wants to play with Turkey.

When things start to get serious between you and Paul he decides to tell you about the legends and the imprint. You've been introduced to the pack, but you get overwhelmed with everything. You take a couple days to think about it, realizing everything makes sense. How nothing feels rushed or like it's wrong. You spent the few days you were alone baking, and baking, and even more baking. You knew you had to talk to Paul, but that he wouldn't find you to avoid making you feel pressured so you headed to his house.

After knocking you stare at the Tupperware of desserts over thinking how everything is gonna go. You dont hear the door open and jump when you hear, "What's that?" "I uh. I was thinking. And when I think I tend to bake and cook." You continue to stare at the Tupperware as he fully steps outside, "I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything, but I." You finally look up at him, "I know that I want to be with you." "Come here." Paul easily pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on your head as your arms wrap around his waist.

You don't know how long the two of you stay like that until you hear, "Are those brownies?!" You both turn and see Letty standing in the doorway, Paul grabs and lifts the Tupperware before Letty can grab it and run off, "Nice try kid. You gotta be quicker than that." Everything goes back to normal, besides the fact that you now know your boyfriend and his friends turn into giant dogs.

Paul can see Letty loves having you around, especially if she wants her hair done a certain way and knows hes useless with braiding hair, especially French braids. If you spent the night, Letty loves watching you do your makeup, even if it's just something super natural and basic. She also loves visiting you at work, the few days her and Paul would go to town theyd take a detour for lunch and bring you something. You had your own office, being the chief of peds, and Letty took any opportunity to spin in your chair.

When Letty starts school, Paul's absolutely bored without her there keeping him on his toes. "She's only gonna be gone for a few hours a day. Its preschool." "And then she'll be in highschool." You can only laugh, "And then what? Bringing home a boyfriend?" Paul can only groan making you laugh and shake your head, "Its preschool. You'll go to pick her up in a couple hours and you'll still be her favorite person."

After a couple years Paul and Letty move in with you. Your house was bigger and paid off, making it the best decision and Letty loved the idea of getting to decorate what would be her room. It took a couple days for you to get used to hearing cartoons in the morning and little hands pulling you inside after work to the kitchen where dinner is waiting.

By the time Letty is six shes calling you mom. You love her as if she was your own. The first time it slipped out of her mouth she got upset thinking you'd leave like her mom did. Paul talked to her and got her to tell you how she felt about your relationship with her. The next day you took her out for a girls day and she told you over lunch. When you returned home both exhausted, and after Letty showed everything she got to her dad, you were climbing into bed ready to knock out.

Paul slid into bed after tucking Letty in, pulling you into his arms letting you snuggle into the warmth his body provides, "How'd today go?" You yawn and let out a chuckle, "I think I became a mom today." Paul chuckles and kisses your shoulder, "Congratulations. It's a girl." You let out a laugh before rolling over and press your face into his neck before letting sleep consume you.

The next morning both Letty and Turkey jump on the bed to wake you and Paul up making you groan, "I didn't sign up for this." "You have no choice you're a mom now." You give Paul a death glare but he can't take you seriously with your bedhead making you roll your eyes, "Don't you have pancakes or some dad thing to make?" "Oh you're pushing it now." Before you can process what's happening Paul's attacking you in tickles and kisses, "Eww gross." You both stop and look at Letty before looking at each other. Paul shrugs, "Pin her hands, I got her feet." Not even a second later the three of you are laughing, even Turkey is happily wagging his tail and occasionally letting out happy barks.

When Letty is eight Paul asks you to marry him. Of course Letty is there to put her input on everything, especially the ring. "You know it's not for you right?" "Dad you don't have any style. Mom can't have an ugly ring. It has to be pretty just like her. She has to wear it everyday." "You don't think I don't know that? And shes beautiful not just pretty." "Dad. You're whipped." "Where'd you learn that?!" "Uncle Jared and Uncle Sam." Letty even tries to con her way into being there when Paul proposes, but luckily for Paul her uncles have super hearing, strength, and speed so she cant even attempt to escape Emily's house.

Occasionally Paul catches you and Letty cuddling on the couch as you watch a movie. He loves seeing Letty lay on top of you, no matter how big she gets she loves to have her head resting on your chest as you're both covered with whatever blanket you dragged down from her bed. Your hand is always on her back, rubbing soothing circles or just rested there depending on the day you've both had. Paul's heart skips a beat when he can see the engagement ring on your finger still unable to process the fact that hes going to marry his imprint and that you and his daughter have an amazing relationship.

#twilight imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight

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imnotwolverine · 3 years

Text

The Accidental Family - Chapter 7

Henry Cavill x OFC - multi-chapter

< Chap 6 | Chap 7 The Accidental Family

Disclaimer: fluff and mild bit of angst

Word count: 1.790

Author’s note: Okay, this was so much fun! And, I know it’s a little early, but let me hereby send you my well wishes for the new year. May the new year be accident-free, healthy, happy..and hopefully involving some much missed hugs with friends and family! ❤️

(Link to my Masterlist)

How much can change in three months? Apparently everything. Just three months ago Henry had been the lead actor in a successful tv hit-series, father to a brood of children at home whom he barely ever saw in between shoots. Then, one unfortunate accident on his motorcycle later, he forgot about the life he had led the past 5 years, the scars beneath his hairline reminding him that it wasn’t a dream; this was real. One day he was a single man, the next he was a husband and dad.

And now here he lay, in bed, four kids sprawled atop him, a slight sheen of sweat covering his hairy chest as he woke from a restless dream, his limbs all tangled with his children who were still fast asleep.

It was the end of summer and they sure felt like tiny little furnaces, their hands and feet poking awkwardly in his ribs and thighs.

Not that he’d ever complain.

They had been the most happy little outcome of one not so happy accident; where he had dreamed and wished and hoped for a family five years ago, here it was. All feet, clingy, sweaty hands, and drooling, snotty noses that prevented him from moving, even if he wanted to.

Trying his best to reach out his right arm, he blindly searched for the soft skin of the other adult in this bed; another happy outcome of the accident. A wife, her fingers entangling with his as she slowly sat up a little, Piper, one of the twins clinging to her neck like a little koala bear.

‘Hey,’ She murmured, squeezing his hand.

Henry grumbled something indiscernible, Phoebe’s chuckle warm in Henry’s heart as she slowly shook her head, falling back into her pillow. All the while, Piper could not give a damn about her mother waking up; she remained completely knocked out, arms hooked around her mom’s neck as she dreamed about becoming an elephant trainer..or perhaps an equestrian - the strong headed little girl hadn’t quite decided yet.

‘We need a bigger bed.’ Henry yawned, trying his best to stretch out his legs, only to be welcomed with groaning children and even meaner hands fisting into his chest hair. ‘Ooooph. Okay. Max. Maxxy-max. Wakey-wakey.’ Henry tried.

‘No.’ The youngster said, smiling with shut eyes as he kept his hand firmly fisted into his father’s chest hair.

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

‘Well, what I say goes. And it’s a yes from me.’

Max finally opened his blue eyes, his lips jutting out in disagreement. ‘But you told us we could be in bed ALLLLL day.’

‘I said all morning. Since you all slept the whole night through, the lot of you. But now it’s time for some food. And Kal needs a walk - as do you.’

‘But he’s a big dog,’ Max whined, splaying out his limbs, hitting little Cole smack-bang in the face.

‘WAAAAAAAAA.’ The young one cried, but Max didn’t care, continuing undisturbed:

‘..and big dogs can take care of themselves.’

‘Ah, so you did listen yesterday. Haha. Now..Is this you telling me you’re going to make us breakfast? Are you a big boy?’

‘No!’

Henry snickered as the young boy shot an annoyed look at Cole who was crying his eyes out. Cole seemed to have an endless supply of tears - and every single little thing could get the toddler to show just how good he had gotten at crying.

‘Pfft dadddyyyy.’ Max sighed.

‘Yes?’ Henry smirked as the boy let go off his chest hair.

‘Only if its pancakes.’

The other children also blinked open their eyes; ‘PANCAKES?!!!’

Yawning with mild exhaustion, Phoebe shuffled into the kitchen, being welcomed by the smell of pancakes, freshly ground coffee and something sticky that was now dragging behind her slipper.

‘Shit,’ She mumbled, looking down at the sticky wrapper that had stuck to her slipper, smearing something honey-gold over the kitchen floor. ‘dammit.’

Looking up, she wanted to ask Henry for a wet cloth to clean up, only to notice that he had totally zoned out, slightly melancholic eyes staring out at the kitchen island as he leaned into the kitchen counter.

‘Babe?’

Henry looked up, blinking away his thoughts.

‘You okay?’ Phoebe kicked off her soiled slipper, walking with one bare, one slippered foot towards him, the children all somehow keeping it relatively quiet at the kitchen table as they snacked on their favourite breakfast.

‘Yea..’ Henry’s melancholic eyes wrinkled as he forced a gentle smile, hiding what was going on being those crystal blues.

For a moment Phoebe felt her heart sink at the sight of this. She knew there could be relapses. That it was still very likely that Henry would become overwhelmed, forget again or decide this life was not for him.

With a hesitant hand she touched his arm, his eyes looking down at where her fingers traced his skin, burning him with the gentlest of touches.

‘I could have died that day.’ He said softly, looking at the long trail of honeyed residue that had smeared out over the kitchen floor. He sighed. ‘I could have never woken up. Left you alone in this mess.’

‘Hey..where’s all this coming from?’ Phoebe quickly looked at the kids sweetly munching on their pancakes, their faces messy with powdered sugar, before hinting they’d best have this conversation in the hallway.

‘No, no. It’s…’ Henry sighed and opened his arms for her to melt into, her body eagerly doing just that; she could never get enough of his hugs, especially now she had to savour every moment she got with him - the gnawing fear of him leaving her was present everyday, especially now the kids were back home. It wasn’t easy to fall into a life of taking care of four very demanding kids. Let alone suddenly having a wife.

Even if he might have always wished for it, it could still be too much. Would he tell her if it was too much?

‘Feebs..don’t worry. I just, I mean. I was thinking, this morning, in bed, with the kids in our bed, I...’ He sighed and let his hand trail over her cheek, brushing a rough thumb over her smooth skin, some blond hair catching between his fingers. He looked at the gold in his hand, twirling it a little through his fingers as he felt his wife’s arms tangle around his back, pulling herself even closer to his chest.

Perhaps it was better that he lost the Witcher gig. Had to look for a different career. Perhaps he could be..home more. Could..

His eye caught the movement of one determined four year old climbing off his year, mug of juice precariously held in chubby little fingers. Anddd…

‘Sam!’ Henry called out for him, but it was too late, blue eyes looking up from his little task of walking over to his mom and dad, to miss the slipper that his mom had discarded in the sticky residue, his little mouth making a comical little “o” as he tipped forward, plastic mug falling from his fingers and…

Henry snorted out laughing as the juice flew all the way up to Phoebe’s legs, her lips letting out a little squeak as she quickly looked around.

In moments the calm kitchen was chaos again, the other kids wanting to leave the table, Sam crying out loud for thinking he had done a bad thing, Phoebe trying to clean up the mess and Henry squatting down to console the crying wee one.

‘Hey hey hey - it was only an accident. I’m here...daddy’s here.’ He wrapped his large paws around Sam’s little shoulders, pulling him in for a hug that was eagerly accepted.

Sam snottily nodded into Henry’s shirt; it was like laundry day never ended with four kids ruining every piece of clothing one could own. But, in that moment Henry didn’t care, his arm lifting up Sam before he looked back at Phoebe, who was now rinsing out the juice-soaked cloth, her midnight blues looking back at him with curiosity.

‘And in case you wondered; I’m not going anywhere mama-bear.’ He stepped in and waited for Phoebe to dry her hands before he could lean in for a kiss.

Phoebe hung the drying towel back on it’s hook, mischievous eyes looking back at him.

‘You better not. Memory or not..you did kind of knock me up with four kids.’

‘Mommy..what’s knocking up?’ Sam blinked up at Phoebe, who now used both hands to grab Henry’s jaw and pull him in for a kiss. Henry half chuckled into the kiss, his face leaning back again so he could look down at Sam, Sam’s mouth and nose a mess after something that must have been close to inhaling the marmalade he had smeared onto his pancake.

‘Matter of fact..I think I can’t remember, either.’ Henry’s face kept a playfully unabashed facade and Phoebe couldn’t help but gasp.

‘OH! No you…’

‘Maybe mommy could refresh my memory when we have some alone time again? Hmm?’ Henry cheeks turned up in a most mischievous smile.

‘And accidentally get me knocked up..again? Hmm? You want that?’ Phoebe laughed as Henry shrugged indifferently, not minding the idea one bit - what else was he to do with all this free time? Leaning forward she kissed him again, Sam squealing now he felt it was just a bit TOO much mommy-and-daddy-PDA for the moment.

‘Who said THAT was an accident?’ He grinned, before swiftly adding: ‘Later?’ Henry winked, carefully putting Sam back down on the clean floor. Clean for now.

Phoebe laughed and pulled him back in for another delightful mommy-daddy snog, shirts covered in kiddy drool, marmalade and what not.

‘Mmm..Sounds like a plan. I’ll make sure to ..refresh your mind.’

Henry tugged down his shirt to be somewhat presentable after having spent most of his Sunday stretched out on the couch, reading. He wasn’t sure who’d be at the door, but he had a hunch it were the neighbours who wanted to apologise for the slightly too loud birthday party they had yesterday.

Honestly, he hadn’t minded it one bit; he enjoyed a little bit of life in his ever quiet house.

Turning the lock, he swung open the door, expecting the apologetic face of Rita or James..but it wasn’t either of them. Instead he was greeted by a very different apologetic face, golden locks making his heart do a confused little flip in his chest.

Biting her lip, the blondine - Bee, was it? - shyly shuffled on her feet.

‘Hi.’

Henry quickly straightened up, scolding himself for looking so terribly disheveled in his sweatpants and wrinkly white t-shirt.

‘H-hi..Bee.’

‘Remember me?’ She smiled - she didn’t wear any make-up and he liked it.

‘Of course. Ha..Eh..’ Henry felt a slight blush creep up his cheeks. ‘Want to come in?’

Bee smiled. ‘I hope I don’t interrupt any..-.’

‘Oh no. Please..’ He stepped away to let her inside and blabbed on: ‘I was rather bored actually. Home alone..the usual. It’s nice to see you, I thought -’

Bee halted before him, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to quiet, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink. And Bee? She laughed. Of all the scenarios that had played out in her head, this one was the sweetest, funniest, bestest thing that could have happened. For a moment she didn’t scold herself for getting much too drunk three months ago. For a moment she thought that perhaps this one tiny accident in one bathroom stall at an after party, was the start of something good.

‘Tea? Wine? Eh...’

‘Oh! No wine...no..wine.’ Bee quickly followed Henry out into what she learned to be the kitchen. And what followed next was the most life changing cup of tea she ever had.

The End

(For now. I maybe kind of enjoyed writing about these two and their kids a bit TOO much 👀😸Would you like to read more, dear readers?)

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira @tillthelandslide @elinesama

@tryingtoliveonmywishes @ceilingfann @do-youseeme

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x ofc #the accidental family #fluff #memory loss

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nicb0723 · 4 years

Text

Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

Notes: Depression trigger warning

Word Count: 11,754

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Before work you go grocery shopping and run some errands. You clean up a lot and wonder how the hell John’s personality will fit in your tiny apartment. He doesn’t say much but he can be so intense. You can’t imagine the two of you together, alone, in this tiny space.

In the bathroom you hesitate as you pick up your prescription. The doctor thought it would take the edge off your anxiety, and make the depression manageable. She also made sure you were seeing someone for therapy. For now, the pill once a day does work. You can breathe. You can function. You’d be a fool to think all of your problems would disappear overnight. You still have a long road of recovery ahead, but this makes it less overwhelming. You place the little plastic container in the medicine cabinet, somewhere John won’t see it. You wouldn’t put it past him if he snooped, but in a way you're proud that you were able to talk about your problems and get some help.

At work Sam is with you and currently making fun of your limp after you tell him why there’s a bruise on your foot. He’s asking if you want him to go buy you a cane when John waltzes in, hair slicked back and suit jacket blowing from the wind. How someone can look like a model in a gas station you’ll never know. He stares until you go to him and ask what the hell he’s doing here.

“Getting gas.” He answers and reaches for his wallet.

You don’t say anything and ring him up, glancing outside to his car parked in spot one.

Sam is watching you two interact and he has the biggest grin on his face. Is that your boyfriend? He mouths behind John’s back and you cough in shock. No, and yeah right, like you could ever get a guy like John in a million years.

“Hello!” Sam says loudly and teasingly bumps your hip with his behind the counter.

John raises an eyebrow and glances to you first, then nods to Sam. “Hi.”

“John, this is Sam my co-worker and Sam, this is John my um… friend?”

True surprise flickers in John’s brown eyes and he looks pleased, a slow small smile spreads on his lips.

“She’s actually my boss, but nice to meet you.” Sam says and his attention is drawn to the classic car outside and the gushing begins.

You let the two of them talk until you hear John offer to show him the engine and they both move to go outside. “Hey, I’ll see you later?”

Sam smirks and you nod at John, wondering how he knows where you live. It’s a little weird that he broke into your place just to fix a leaking faucet and he was in your apartment without you even knowing. In the back of your mind, you think that it’s actually pretty thoughtful. You mindlessly wonder why he would waste his time though. Why he would do any of the things that he did. He said that he would help anyone in the same situation as you, but you’ve been thinking about that question since the day at the lake, and you’re too scared to ask him. You’re scared to see the look on his face, the look of pity because that’s all you can think that he’ll say.

You hear John’s car peel away and Sam comes back inside, still grinning like an idiot.

“What?” You ask, not really wanting to know.

“Nothing.” Sam hops up on the counter and he knows he’s not supposed to sit there. “I think he likes you.”

“And what makes you say that.” You deadpan, pushing at his butt with the tip of your pen.

Sam slides down and knocks over a display of gum. “He told me to look out for you.”

“Oh yeah? I can see you’d be very threatening.” You point to the packs of gum all over the floor.

He bends down and starts to pick up the mess. “What’d you need looking out for anyway?”

“Nothing, he's just being protective I guess.”

Sam looks at you with concern. “From what?”

“Nothing. I promise, okay?”

For the rest of the night Sam shows you his karate moves and chops up air until closing time.

John is folded up in the corner of your couch with his legs crossed at the knees and his black leather shoe tapping your coffee table. He’s reading one of the old magazines you have laying around.

“How was work?” He asks, folding the magazine shut, like this is the most normal thing in the world.

You check the locks on your door to see if they’re broken, but they’re not. You turn the handle again to make sure the door is shut all the way.

“I should probably give you a key if you’re going to let yourself in.”

John shrugs. “If you want.”

Tossing your purse on the kitchen table you make your way to the living room and sit on the chair across from the couch. John looks so out of place, but you can tell he’s trying to blend in, make himself belong in your little apartment.

“Who’s taking care of your dog while you’re here?” You ask, kicking your feet up.

“Pooch? The little girl next door. She loves him.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Don’t tell me you actually named him Pooch. I don’t even think that’s an actual word, I think my grandma made it up.”

John shrugs again you can tell he’s definitely not a man to waste any words. “It stuck. It’s... cute.”

“Cute? I can’t see you thinking anything is cute.” You grin and stand up to take your jacket and shoes off to get more comfortable. You can hear him mutter something under his breath, but can’t catch it. “So do we know if Max is officially out yet?”

“No, I’m waiting for the call though. I’ll know as soon as it happens.”

You don’t have any doubt. “Do you want something to eat or drink?” You open the refrigerator for some juice. ”I usually have a snack when I get home. Feel free to take anything you want.”

John tries to settle back on the couch but he seems stiff. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You can take off your tie and your jacket at least. You’ll probably be here for awhile.” You call out to him, your head sticking in the cupboard looking for the popcorn you put in there earlier.

John doesn’t move and you gesture for him to get up as you crawl back in your chair with a bag of food.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes of course I’m sure. Why would I not be sure?” You look at him like he’s crazy as he slowly stands and oh… that’s why.

The suit jacket comes off and he carefully lays it over the side table. His slender waist is circled with a large utility belt with three guns, two clips, and probably a knife. The sight makes your eyes widen. He stares at you as he slowly unfastens the buckle and gently places it on top of his jacket.

“Don’t go near that.” He points sternly and sits back down, this time more comfortable. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and sets it on the couch next to him.

“Definitely not. Are you planning on using any of that?”

“Scare tactic.”

Silence fills the room as you crunch on your popcorn and you’re actually feeling pretty tired. You’d like to go to bed, but you’re not sure what John’s plans are exactly.

“So how is this going to happen?” You ask. “Are you going to come to work with me too? Are you going to run my errands with me? I mean, I’d love the company but I don’t see you wandering around Target for an hour.”

“I don’t mind going to Target with you.” His voice is so serious you can’t help but smile. “I don’t think he’ll come around during the day though. He wants you alone. Scared. Vulnerable. And I have my cop friend keeping an eye on you at work. It’s on his beat anyway.”

“Okay.” That all sounds reasonable. Dread and doubt suddenly take hold of you. “Look, maybe I’m wrong? Maybe he won’t bother with me and we can just forget about it? Maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all.”

John shakes his head. “I read his record. It’s not good.”

Well, crap. You don’t want to talk about Max anymore and you don’t want to ask the one question that’s been hounding your mind. You’re still too scared to know the reason John is here, so you ask something else. “Are you ever going to sleep? You can’t stay up all night waiting.”

“I’ll sleep until I know he’s out.” John says easily. “Then after that I have motion detection alerts on my phone from the camera outside your floor.”

You blink at him. “There are cameras on the door of the elevator?”

“There are now.”

“How’d that happen?” You’ve never noticed any security cameras anywhere.

“I talked to Francis, the apartment manager. He’s a nice guy.”

You blink at him again. “I know, but he only speaks Russian. How’d you talk to him?”

John smirks and says, “Bez truda.”

It’s all a little too much and you get up, shaking your head in disbelief. “How is this my life right now? How do I get myself into these things? I have an assassin in my apartment… I’m going to take a shower!” You announce after a minor anxiety attack. “Feel free to turn on the TV, get comfortable, whatever you want.”

The water feels good as you scrub away the day. It relaxes you until swarming thoughts of John sitting on your couch make you hurry out of the tub and wrap yourself in the flannel bathrobe you always wear. Before you lose your nerve you walk back into the living room and find John where you left him, now looking at his phone.

“They’re just starting to process paperwork. That means it’ll be a few hours.” John’s talking, but doesn’t look up. You start to brush your wet hair out and twist it loosely on top of your head for the night. Usually you’d smear face cream all over but that obviously is not going to happen.

“Look, John. I know we hardly know each other, but you can sleep in the bed, okay?” You start to turn off the kitchen lights and check the front door one more time to make sure it’s locked. “It’s plenty big enough and I would just feel better.”

He’s looking at you with warm eyes now, his mouth open but nothing is coming out. It’s like his brain turned a switch and decided something important. Whatever he’s thinking must be big because his whole demeanor changes. You can’t quite figure it out, but he seems content to be here with you, where just a few moments ago he had a guard up and was struggling with something on his mind. Somehow and unknowingly, you sense that you’ve just started to break down his wall. You have no idea what you did, you’re just being yourself, but for the first time John is vulnerable. He’s blinking slowly, as if he’s seeing you for the first time in a new light, or finally giving himself permission to really see you.

It doesn’t matter though, because you know you look like a complete dork in your bathrobe and suddenly you feel incredibly stupid. Shame floods your stomach and you almost feel sick. Of course, this man wouldn’t want to be in the same bed as you. He’d probably rather die. You can’t believe you even suggested it. Also, your therapist would be terribly disappointed in you for talking down to yourself like this.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

He stands up and grabs a small leather bag you hadn’t seen by the widow. “Yes. If it’ll make you feel safer.”

No. No. That’s not how you wanted it to happen. You wanted John to want to sleep in the bed, not because you asked him. “Listen, I didn’t mean… I’ll take the couch, okay? You probably don’t want to share the bed with me, I totally understand. And you’re doing me a favor and I just want you to be comfortable.”

Utter confusion crosses his handsome face. He scratches at his beard with long fingers, trying to make sense of what you want. “What good would that do? With you sleeping on the couch?”

You stammer and can feel a flush develop on your cheeks. “I just thought… I don’t know.”

“If you rather, I can book you a room in a hotel for a few nights. I won’t… do anything to you. I can promise you that.”

Oh God. This conversation could not get any worse. You’re horrified that he thinks something like that and you try terribly to explain. “No, no that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to go to a hotel. I just meant that um, you probably don’t want to share a bed with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

The flush is creeping up to your neck as you become more embarrassed. You point at your bathrobe and general dorkiness. “Yeah, like someone… not… exactly… uh… cute?”

He seems to realize what you’re trying to say and laughs a little. “Well it’s a good thing there’s no one not cute in this apartment. I don’t know how I could ever sleep.” He walks towards you and gently tucks the hair that had fallen in your eyes behind your ears. It’s very intimate and you feel yourself start to smile. “Can we go to bed now?” He moves his arm out for you to lead the way and you feel silly. John is a nice guy. Even if he really didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you, he probably still would because it’s what you wanted.

“Yeah, sorry.” You mumble and walk into the bedroom with him following. There’s not much clutter and it’s pretty bare besides the newly bought self help books on the nightstand and regular girly stuff littered on the dresser. John throws his bag on the floor and you grab some pajamas for yourself, heading to the bathroom to change.

When you come back John is wearing a white t-shirt and soft blue sleep pants. He’s incredibly adorable and you can’t believe your luck of having him in your room right now. He must’ve grabbed his phone and weapons because they’re both on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

He looks you up and down in your tank top and shorts as you plop on the mattress, quickly getting under the covers.

“This okay?” He asks and points to his own clothes. Was he expecting for you to want him to sleep in his suit?

“Yeah of course. But... can you fight in pajamas?” You wrinkle your nose and tease him. “That’s not very assassin-y.”

He barks out a laugh and lays down, but he doesn’t get under the sheets. His feet are bare and long, and you keep peeking at his toes. “I think it’ll be fine.”

You roll over and face him. He’s looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

He doesn’t move. “Why?”

Your eyes start to become heavy and you watch his chest move up and down in slow rhythmic breaths. “People don’t usually do nice things for me. I’m used to being on my own.”

With that he shifts on his side, towards you. His hair falls in his eyes and you long to brush it away. “I can tell.”

“I don’t like asking for help.”

“You never asked me for anything.” John points out. There’s plenty of space between the both of you and flop your arm towards his side, pointing at him teasingly.

“Oh, I distinctly remember asking you to do one very specific thing and you failed.”

He squirms from the quick stabs of your pointer finger at his ribs. “I don’t know, I think things turned out pretty perfect.”

You scoff and roll to your stomach now, sliding your arms under the pillow. “Perfect? Yeah right, I’m sure this is the last place you want to be.”

“It is perfect. This bed is very comfortable.” John finally gets under the blankets and you giggle sleepily. His cologne is stirred by his movement and you savor the spicy smell.

“It’s new. I got a raise at work. I’m an assistant manager now.” You tell him proudly, even though you know it’s not that big of an accomplishment.

“Oh excuse me, Miss Assistant Manager.” John smiles and acts extremely impressed. “Congratulations, by the way. I should take you out to celebrate.”

You have no idea if he’s serious or not so you just laugh and snuggle down more into the bed. After a minute you ask, “Do you think Max will come tonight?”

John pauses, thinking. “Hard to say. He doesn’t have a good past. He has friends in high places who will probably help him. How’d you meet a guy like that anyway?”

“How is that you know my name, where I live, my phone number, where I work, what car I drive… literally everything about me and you don’t know that?”

John brushes the hair from his eyes and you can see the tan line around his ring finger has started to finally fade. “That’s just part of the job.”

“Fixing leaking water faucets is part of being an assassin?” You ask, teasing again.

A sweet pink flush spreads on John’s cheeks. “Shush.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He pretends to glare. “Maybe it is. You don’t know.”

“You’re right, I don’t know.” You yawn and let your eyes fall close. “Can I tell you tomorrow though? I’m gonna pass out.”

You hear the click of the side lamp turn off and you want to stay awake, to soak in this moment a little more but sleep is overpowering and you drift off into a peaceful rest.

Until about two o’clock in the morning, and then you start to toss and turn. You swear there’s a noise out in the living room but you also know you’re probably being paranoid. You can see the shape of John’s body just a few inches away and you want to reach over to him.

“Hey.” He whispers and his voice startles you still. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You sit up a little and look towards your bedroom door. There’s a stream of light from the street lamps coming in through the window, but other than that it’s dark. “I thought I heard something.”

“It was just the air kicking on. You’re fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You feel John’s palm rest on your arm and squeeze. “Positive.”

“Is he out? Did you get a text or anything?”

“Hey, don’t worry about anything, okay? I promise you’re safe.”

You fall back on the bed with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

You're wide awake and this whole situation is baffling. John Wick is in your bed, squeezing your arm and comforting you.

“Isn’t being an assassin illegal?” You blurt out, the darkness giving you courage, and you instantly regret asking the question because he pulls away.

“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” He says quietly. “Trust me, I tried to retire and I got sucked back in somehow. People seem to want only me for really hard jobs.”

“Couldn’t you get arrested or something if you got caught? Could I get in trouble with you being here?”

“No. Sometimes cops need bad guys to go away too. You won’t get in trouble.”

“Oh.”

“Feel better now?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I just don’t always get myself into the best situations. I feel really safe with you, I just…” You don’t meet an assassin everyday. You have no idea what it really means.

“It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to offend you.”

He laughs softly and his fingers brush the back of your arm now. “Nothing you ever ask will offend me. It’s actually quite refreshing. I just hope…”

You wait for him to finish, but he seems to be gathering his thoughts and you don’t want to rush him.

“I hope you can think of me as a friend before an assassin. And I hope that I don’t scare you.”

“I don’t scare easily.” You mumble and yawn, glancing back to your bedroom door. You ignore the friend comment because you feel like you’ve already been through hell and back. You don’t know if you could consider John as a friend and then lose him someday. It might break you all over again. But then you think of how far you’ve come. “I could probably take Max. I could get him to leave me alone now that I have my mind straight.”

“You think so?” John is sincere and you can hear he’s happy at your mental growth.

“Yeah maybe. As long as he’s clean and not hopped up on something. Then it might be harder.”

“I guess we’ll see.” John checks his phone and puts it down again after looking briefly at it. “Are you going to be able to get back to sleep?”

“Yes. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Stop apologizing.” He shifts to his side, with his back to you.

It’s a strong, solid back with his shoulder blades poking out from underneath his t-shirt. You stare until your eyes feel heavy again. You feel safe.

The next time you wake up the sun is blaring from the window and John is gone. His leather bag is still by the bed though, but his suit jacket and all of his guns are gone too.

You start to go about your business, not believing John would leave you alone if you were in any kind of danger. It’s almost creepy how your phone alerts a few seconds later with a text, like he knows that you’re up.

No need to worry. I know where he is. I’ll see you later tonight. Let me know if anything happens.

You text back sounds good and John tells you to have a nice day.

It just so happens that you have the next two days off from work and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your foot still hurts from the baseball bat incident so you zone out in front of the TV for a while, trying to forget all of your problems. That doesn’t really work so the next best thing is to venture through the kitchen. You have snacks but not much else. Maybe it would be nice if you could fix John a nice dinner or something, for hanging out with you and like, protecting you from a shitty ex boyfriend.

Some nice meat might do the trick. A nice steak with a potato and veggies. One thing grandma did that was awesome? Was to teach you how to cook. Wanting to actually cook was a different story for the last few years, the thought making you ill when you were practically a walking zombie, but now the thought excites you. It’s also different to cook for someone than just yourself because it’s usually not worth all the hassle.

Quickly, you get dressed and head out to the nearby grocery store. It's quiet and you take your time walking down the aisles with your cart, wondering what sorts of things John likes to eat. He probably stays healthy but a part of you thinks that he might have a sweet tooth. You grab everything you need, including some pie for dessert and head back home to get started.

There’s a ton of food so you text John to come over hungry and don’t eat any dinner.

He doesn’t reply back immediately and your stomach starts to sink. What if this is too much? Is this weird? It’s just dinner, right? Friends have dinner together. John has to eat sometime.

He eventually texts back a simple okay and you take it for what it is. There’s nothing you can do about it now, and since you’ve never really cooked in this kitchen before, if it turns out terrible you can always order pizza.

It doesn’t turn out terrible, in your opinion, and you’re actually impressed with yourself. There’s a knock on the door right when you're finishing setting the table and John scolds you for not asking who it was before opening the door. He’s still in the middle of his speech when he gets a whiff of steak and sees that the table is set nicely.

“What’s all this?” He asks, smoothing down his expensive silk tie.

You pull out a chair for him to sit down. “It’s just a little thank you.”

He doesn’t look happy with that answer.

“It’s me making my friend dinner… randomly?” You try again.

He laughs and nods, accepting that instead and removes his suit jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. “Do you mind if I…” He points to his waist and waits for you to nod before unclipping the belt, putting it in the bedroom for the night.

“Wine? Beer?” You ask, debating which you want.

“Usually I would, but…”

You understand that he’s working, even though he’d hate it if you said it aloud, and put them both away. “How about some ice tea?”

“Sure.” John sits and folds a napkin in his lap. He’s watching you and when you bring over a plate full of food there’s an unmistaken gasp. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” You sit down too and pass him the salt and pepper. “I forgot how much fun it is to cook. I haven’t made anything since grandma was sick and I stopped eating. But today it was like she was in the kitchen with me.” You stop and close your eyes, embarrassed. “Sorry, that was weird to say.”

“Not the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He reminds you hesitantly, but with a small smile.

Heat warms your cheeks and you have to chuckle in agreement. “True. I feel like that was so long ago though. I’m like a different person now. You must’ve thought I was crazy.” You don’t say that you’re grateful you accidentally gave your phone number to a police informant. That it was John who showed up that day. That it wasn’t some crook who could’ve used a few hundred dollars.

“I didn’t think you were crazy.” John takes a big bite of steak and moans a little. “This is really good. I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time.”

“You don’t cook much?” You ask, waiting for him to make another noise of pleasure.

“I hate cooking for just myself.” He says, but otherwise he is disappointingly quiet.

You take a bite of vegetables and nod in agreement, trying to hide your swelling of excitement. Well, that’s that. He is single. No big deal, you tell yourself to calm the hell down in your head. It doesn't matter anyway. It’s not like anything would ever happen. “So, you didn’t think I was crazy? What did you think?”

John puts down his fork and looks at you, his chin resting on his hand thoughtfully. “I thought you looked really tired. That you needed help and had nowhere else to turn.”

You gently rub a finger under your eye, where you know there used to be darkened circles. Now your eyes are bright and alive. You blush at his observation.

“What’d you think when you saw me?” He asks, interested again in his steak but keeping an attentive ear to everything you say.

You don’t know why, but you feel a surge of confidence. “I thought I was talking to the most attractive hitman in all of New York and that there was no way I could afford your... business.”

John raises an eyebrow and laughs. “Really?”

Shrugging, you take another bite of food and swallow. “I don’t know what I was really thinking, honestly. It was not my best day. I just wanted to get the conversation over with. I wasn’t in the right mindset.”

“But therapy is going well?”

You’re not surprised that he knew about that, but it does make you pause that he actually asked. “Definitely. It’s going very well. And she’s a fan of you, by the way.”

“Me?”

“Don’t worry, she thinks you're an undercover cop.”

John leans over his plate, trying to get closer to you. “What exactly do you say about me?”

“That’s personal!”

“Fine.” He leans back now in his chair and crosses his arms, fake disappointment in a pout on his lips. “Then I won’t tell you about what I found out today.”

You glare at him. “Isn’t that blackmail?”

“Or extortion.” He shrugs, waiting for you to answer.

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes and sigh. “I told her about all of the nice stuff you did for me, even though it was creepy, and how you probably saved my life.”

He blinks at that, obviously not expecting you to be so forward. “Oh. And what did she say?”

“She said to be careful about you breaking into my place and stealing my car… but that it sounded like I made a really good friend.”

John is suddenly silent and tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear. His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. “Just… just a friend?”

Your stomach does a little flip and you’re not sure where he’s going with this. “I’m pretty sure all I can have is friends right now.” You tell him slowly, trying to get all of your words exactly right. “I need to find my worth, be happy with myself… before I can do that for someone else, you know?”

John nods and his eyes are sad for a brief second but when he looks up at you, he’s proud. “I think that’s great. And I’m happy to help remind you that you’re pretty awesome.”

“Reminders are nice.” You tell him with a small smile. “Especially considering they come from a bad ass assassin.”

John chuckles and finishes his steak. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his dress shirt. He looks a little tired and you wonder what he did all day.

“So what were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, right. Max. He seems to be doing well. He’s living with his mom across town and he was spotted going into an AA meeting.”

You’re stunned. In a good way. “Really? He was always such a heavy drinker. That’s where I met him. At the bar across the street from the hospital. When visiting hours were over and I didn’t have to work, I’d go there a lot. And well, I guess he spotted a weak one.” You think back to those days when he was nice to you at first, which quickly changed into becoming manipulative and controlling. The final straw was when he said that you couldn’t visit your grandmother anymore. You lost it and he raised a hand at you, several times. You never want to be that weak. Ever again. “Well that’s good news, right?”

“Yeah.” John rubs at his beard. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t relapse.”

You stand up and start to clear the dishes from the table. “So you don’t have to stay the night, probably.”

“No, I’ll stay at least one more night. Just to be safe.”

You give him a disapproving look. You really hate to waste his time.

“Seriously, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here. One more night and I’ll be out of your hair.”

That’s not at all what you meant by giving him a look so you just shake your head. “It’s nice to have the company. I just don’t think my apartment is where you want to spend your nights.”

“And where exactly do you think I spend my nights?”

The sink is full of soap and John stands to clear the rest of the plates and cups. “I picture this really fancy nightclub or rave with techno music and neon lights and beautiful women dancing around you.”

John hands over a plate and looks at you like you’re nuts. “You have a very vivid imagination.”

“Oh, like that’s never happened.” You deadpan.

“Well, I can’t say never... “ John leans against the counter and offers to help you.

“No, I got it but thank you. And also, I knew it. I just don’t see you like… dancing to techno music.” You make a face and stick out your tongue a little. You hate techno.

John laughs. “I don’t go there to dance. If I’m at a club or something it’s usually for work.”

“Ah, I see.” You move to get the dish rag to dry the silverware. “So, where do all the beautiful women throw themselves at you?”

He’s not really paying attention when he answers and he’s looking at something on the ground. “Well lately it’s been at a lake and a local gas station. Is that a bruise?” John bends down and slowly traces the swirls of black and blue colors on top of your foot. The touch stings a little but you hold still.

“Oh uh... “ God, how stupid. You didn’t think it was that noticeable. “Yeah.”

“Your whole foot is swollen.” His eyes are huge when he stands up and looks at you, his hands on his hips. “What happened?” He growls out and you push past him, considerably embarrassed and turned on all at once.

“I did it to myself, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re limping.” He exasperates, but he gently puts an arm around your waist and helps guide you to sit down. You put your foot on the coffee table and it does look worse than it did yesterday, puffy and colorful.

You grimince and don’t want to tell him. “It was just a silly accident. Sam at work already made fun of me, so let’s just forget it.”

John disappears to the kitchen and you can hear ice being gathered. He comes back and sits on the coffee table, slowly moving your foot to his lap and putting a towel full of ice by your toes, where the worst of the purples are blooming.

“You really don’t have to do that. It’s not that bad. I was just on my feet all day and I didn’t think about it. It’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

His fingers are so gentle around your ankle and you can’t help but to stare at his big hand surrounding your delicate bones. “Hey.” John taps on your skin until you look up at him. “You’re worth being taken care of, okay?”

Well, he got you there damnit. “Oh, that’s a good one.” You’re impressed and you let him hold your foot, sitting back to relax. Your therapist would be really pleased that you let someone help you.

“Are you going to tell me or are we going to sit here all night?”

You briefly tell him how you got the bruise and his fingers stop tracing over your skin long enough for him to laugh. Loudly.

“It’s not that funny.” You scowl at him.

“It’s really funny.” He’s snickering now and you swear there’s a tear at his eye. He moves to wipe it away and mumbles something like, “you are the cutest... “ and then clears his throat and straightens up. “You’ll have to show me your moves.”

“Uh, no, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for tonight, thank you.”

John rubs at your ankle again, squeezing around your leg lightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be mean to the patient.”

“Exactly right.” You agree and smirk when you think of payback. “You gonna kiss it better?”

Without hesitation John takes off the towel and presses his lips to your cold skin. All you can do is stare at his beard and then at the teal nail polish on your toes. You’re speechless.

“It didn’t seem to work.” John says, disappointment in his voice. “I guess I’ll have to work on my technique.”

He says that last part suggestively and you sit up in the chair, ready to change the subject. “I got dessert. You like pie, right?”

“Do I like pie? What kind of question is that?”

“Can you get it?” You smile sweetly at him. “It’s on the counter.”

He gives you a knowing look but lifts your foot to get up. You can see his reflection in the window as he moves around in your kitchen and you watch him in disbelief. You realize you’ve never had anyone in your apartment. Not even grandma, she was already too sick when you got it. Max always made you go to his place. John comes back with one plate and two forks, a big slice for both of you to share.

“This is the best anyone has ever paid me to do a job.” He jokes and you smile back, taking a fork and scooping a bite for yourself.

You point to an envelope on your desk. “Speaking of getting paid… I know it’s not much, but I did promise you--”

“I was kidding.” John cuts you off. His face is instantly annoyed and hurt.

“John, please.” Your foot is still propped up on the coffee table and you can’t really move. “I just thought I’d offer.”

“Well, take it back.” He says and you put your hands up in defense, silently telling him not to be mad. “And you just lost pie privileges.”

“What?”

He stands up and walks over to the couch, as far away from you as possible. “Yeah that’s right. I’m eating all of this myself.”

You huff and struggle to sit up. “That is a radical punishment.”

“You need to learn your lesson.” He takes another big bite, making a show of it.

“That’s it.” You get up and hobble over to him, practically falling into his side and he lets out a grunt when you accidentally lean into his ribs. You decide to just lay where you are for now, you can’t move if you wanted to. “John, seriously. Pie please.”

He shakes his head with amusement and feeds you a small piece. You take it happily and let your head rest on his shoulder while he finishes and feeds you some more until it’s gone. Both of you are quiet. This is the closest you’ve ever been and you just want to feel his warmth. You know eventually you have to move so you peer up at him and smile. “You have blueberry on your lip.” You tell him, reaching to smudge it off with your thumb. At the same time he licks at it and you both laugh.

“C’mon, cripple. I’m helping you to bed.” He tells you, putting the plate and fork down on the coffee table. You use his thigh to get yourself up and he steadies your waist as you balance on one foot. You’re standing between his legs and he’s looking up at you with the sweetest eyes.

“Thank you for dinner.” His voice is sincere and determined to get his appreciation across.

You put your hands on his shoulders and lean some of your weight on him. “John… thank you. Thank you for everything.” And with that you let yourself drop down and you hug him hard. He pulls you close and rubs his hands over your back. His hair brushes your cheek and you breathe in deeply, his scent rushing to your head in the most pleasant high.

Awkwardly, you push yourself away and he grabs at your hands. “You want me to carry you to bed?”

You shoot him a glare and he laughs, letting you wobble towards your bedroom while he takes care of the dishes and turns out all the lights.

When he’s satisfied everything is in the right place, he walks into your bedroom and stands in the doorway, watching you while you sit on the bed and tie your hair up over your head for the night.

“What?”

John breaks his stare and walks around to the other side of the bed. “Nothing.”

“Do you want to watch TV or something?” You ask, grabbing the remote to the set up you have on your dresser. You tend to fall asleep to sitcoms rather than complete silence with thoughts running through your mind at full speed.

“Actually do you mind if I take a shower?” He asks. “I did a lot of running around.”

Your mouth goes dry and you try to get it together before he notices. “Did you get all sweaty tracking Max today?” You guess, smiling when he looks impressed that you got it right. “See, I could totally be an assassin!” Your smile fades when he points to your foot. “Okay, well I could be an assassin’s secretary. I could like, get all the payments and make appointments and travel arrangements and get your guns cleaned and all that stuff!”

He walks around to his bag and gathers a pair of clean sleep clothes. “And take care of all the dead bodies too?”

You gulp. That’s so disturbing. “Yep. And I could take you to the doctor if you get hurt real bad.” You think back to the bruised knuckles and the dried cut on his face.

He cocks his head to the side and thinks for a minute. “That does sound helpful.”

“Really?”

“Yes and also dangerous. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You stand from the bed to get him a towel. “Um, just to let you know, I’ve seen all the assassin movies.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert.”

Opening your closet, you pull out the softest towel you own. “That sounds very sarcastic.” You push it to John's stomach and he grabs it from you, but you don’t let go and tug it back gently. “I’ll have you know I’m a very quick study, Mr. Wick.”

John briefly closes his eyes and takes a step closer to you. He leans in to whisper, his mouth close to your ear, “You better get off that foot.”

A giggle escapes and you sit down on the bed. “If I didn’t have a bruised foot... then could I be your secretary?”

He walks into the bathroom, and right when he closes the door he stops to tell you no.

Frowning, you crawl back to your pillows. You notice John forgot his pajamas on the bed and you’re about to get up and give them to him, but you decide not to. This should be interesting.

You’re watching TV innocently when the bathroom door cracks open ten minutes later. Steam is hovering around John’s form and you hide your smile.

“Um… I forgot my…” He points to the clothes on the bed and you point to your foot.

“I would help you, but I’m a cripple.” You tell him, now smiling because you can’t hide it anymore. You’re trying not to laugh.

He glares at you when the door opens and you see the towel wrapped around his waist.

“I swear I won’t look.” You tell him, covering your eyes.

“Are we twelve now?” He mocks, stepping out and picking up his clothes.

Your smile fades when you look at him because damn. “No, we are definitely not twelve.” You murmur to yourself, and you don’t mean to gock, but he’s fresh out of the shower, glistening skin and tight muscles, toned and strong. He pushes his hair from his face and notices you watching him.

There’s a smug grin when he turns around and your heart completely skips a beat. All you see are flashes of tattoos, black lines and shading on his back. Maybe on his arms too but it was so fast. If you could only make time stand still.

Now you’re glaring when he comes back into the bedroom a few minutes later. He’s glancing at you very casually. “What?”

“You did that on purpose.”

He laughs and gets under the covers. “What? Forget my clothes?”

“No. Showing off all of your…” You gesture to his body. “Never mind.” You can’t believe this is happening and turn towards the TV, trying to forget the hotness laying beside you. Nope. You can’t. “John, why are you doing this?”

He sits up a little. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? Why are you helping me?” There. You finally asked it. Here comes the pity party.

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks, confused. When you don’t say anything, he asks another question. “Would you help me if I needed it?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes, of course I would.”

“Well,” he lays back down and looks blankly at the TV. “There’s your answer.”

“But you hardly know me.”

He briefly glances at you. “Does it matter? I would want to help anyone. What are we watching?”

You laugh at how simple it was all this time. You should really stop overthinking everything. “Do you want to watch Friends or Seinfeld?”

“Who and what?” He asks, not knowing at all your favorite shows.

You caress his cheek and pet him softly. “You poor, innocent man. I have a lot to teach you about laughing.”

He shoves your hand away playfully. “I watch TV… sometimes.”

“When you’re not doing assassin-y stuff.”

John sighs and closes his eyes. “Yes, when I’m not working.”

“Mmhm.” You don’t really believe him. You figure he reads a lot or studies, or does something really smart. Never really does anything just for fun. “We should totally go to a movie tomorrow!” You say it jokingly, like he would ever agree to something so mindless, but you can hardly believe it when he nods and says okay. “Really? You would go to a movie?”

“Isn’t that what friends do together, right?”

You wouldn’t have any idea. You don’t have friends and you haven’t been to the movies in ages. You hate going by yourself and you never had enough money.

“I think so?” You respond, not really knowing.

He lets out a little yawn. “All of my friends are… well, you know. I don’t see any of them going to a movie.”

“But you would?”

“With you? Yes. You’re not in the business, clearly.”

You throw a pillow at him, but he quickly catches it and puts it behind his head. You mumble to yourself of course and turn off the light. “Just for that, I get to pick.”

He groans and you laugh as you tuck yourself in under the covers. You feel excited for tomorrow. Your therapist was right, you did make a good friend. Even if both of you have no idea what exactly that means.

You’re still in bed when John is getting coffee from the kitchen, looking at your phone for movie times. “Don’t worry, I will not make you sit through a chick flick… or a disney movie… or a musical.”

“Do you take cream and sugar?” John asks, popping his head into the bedroom. You nod yes to both and he disappears again.

“Oh! There’s a new sci-fi movie out. You like aliens, right? It looks scary too.”

John comes back into the room with two steaming hot cups. He hands one to you carefully and you take a slow sip. “Mmm. This is really good, thank you.”

He looks pleased with himself as he gets back into your bed, sitting with his legs crossed under him. His hair is messed up a little and he’s still in his pajamas. The sight is really cute. You’re kind of sad that it was the last night he’s here. You quickly got used to him in your apartment and having someone to come home to was so nice. He already mastered your crappy coffee machine and he does the dishes. But the sleepovers are done and you wish it had lasted a little longer, purely for selfish reasons.

You must be staring at him for too long because he stops drinking his coffee and gives you a small smile. “What?”

Dunking your head, you’re embarrassed that he caught you. “Nothing.”

He grins, like he can read your mind but doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “What time’s the movie?”

“Let’s see…” You tap at your phone, scrolling through the options. “How about this afternoon? Then we could get something to eat or whatever.”

Now he’s really smiling and now he really does call you out. “Wouldn’t this be like… a date? Did you just ask me out on a date?”

“What!” You shriek and put your coffee down on the nightstand, stretching your leg over to try and push him off the bed, but he doesn’t move an inch and just laughs at you. “Oh. My. God. Absolutely not, you weirdo. Why can’t two people just hang out? Jerry and Elaine do it all the time!” You point to the TV in your defense, trying to remind him of the show you watched last night.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” John puts his coffee down too and grabs your foot to inspect the bruise. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, still not being able to fathom John Wick flirting with you. It’s probably all a joke to him anyway so you continue to ignore it. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”

He slides your pant leg up and takes a closer look. “Well, it’s not as dark as it was yesterday. Still a little swollen.”

“Told you it would be fine.”

“You’re welcome.” He cracks a smile and you remember the kiss he placed there last night. “Do you need anything else to feel better?”

“Ugh, gross.” Rolling your eyes even harder. “Your flirting is terrible.”

He grabs at his heart like it hurts. “I take offense to that.”

“Good, that was the point.” You get up from the bed and open the closet, searching for something to wear today. “It’s probably the one thing you’re not good at.”

“I could be good at it.” He says, sipping his coffee again. “I’m just rusty. I need to practise.”

You don’t turn around. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He repeats slowly, and then horrified, “Wait.. I’m not skeezy am I?”

That makes you laugh and you sit back down on the bed. “No, John. You’re not skeezy. You’re like the opposite of skeezy. You’re too nice to be skeezy.”

“I’m too nice?”

“Yeah.” You get up again and fiddle with your hair that’s fallen in your face. “I know you say these things just to be nice to me. I know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s sweet though, it’s fun. I get it.”

Slowly, he shakes his head, trying to comprehend your thoughts. “So, you’re saying I could never be serious about flirting with you?”

“Ha, not in this lifetime.” You gather your bathrobe and head for a shower. “Don’t worry, I’m not that stupid. I know exactly how far out of your league I am.”

Now John is the one rolling his eyes. You don’t give him a chance to say anything though and close the door to the bathroom, finally able to catch your breath a little. He still makes you nervous, you realize, and you hope the feeling fades the more time you spend with him because it seems like he needs a friend just as much as you do.

You’re brushing your teeth when John taps a knuckle on the door.

“Do you mind if we stop at my place before the movie?”

“You don’t want to wear a suit all day?”

“Not really.” He smiles. “And I have to pick up the dog.”

“Oh right!” You spit into the sink and wash your mouth. “I want some puppy kisses.”

John looks at your lips and then to your eyes. It’s fast, but you still see it. And if you didn’t he mutters, “tease” and leaves to go out the front door.

You grab your purse on the way out and he waits patiently for you to lock the door behind you. He has his bag with him and you’re disappointed it’s not still in your apartment. You wonder if he’s wearing all of his guns and try to sneak a peek under his suit jacket at his waist. You’re not paying attention so you run smack into his back when he stops for the elevator.

Yep, he’s wearing one gun because you feel it hit your stomach. He looks at you oddly and reaches a hand out to steady you.

“Do you always carry a gun when you go places?”

“Usually.”

“Do you ever have to use it?”

“Sometimes.”

The elevator ride down is quiet and you wave to Francis walking by in the hallway. John nods towards him too, like they have some sort of secret understanding.

His car is glistening in the sun and you have to admit, it is a pretty sweet ride. John opens the door for you after he throws his bag in the trunk and you move carefully, afraid you might scratch the paint job. You fold yourself neatly in the seat and stay still.

He smoothly gets in and before you can process about how annoyingly attractive he is, the engine roars to life and he’s speeding out of your complex onto the main road. You have a hard time not watching his hands because his fingers are long and look good around the steering wheel. He drives fast but not enough to make you nervous and glances at you a few times to make sure you’re okay. You don’t say much but it’s a comfortable silence with the windows down. You watch the town go by as you start to relax.

It’s only about a ten minute drive until the car pulls up to the most gorgeous house you’ve ever seen. Of course, this is where John would live. In a house built with huge windows and high ceilings, with a big open yard that’s perfectly manicured.

He parks in the driveway but still pushes a button so the garage door goes up.

“C’mon, I’ll only be a minute.” He tells you and curiosity gets the best of you because you had planned to stay in the car.

“Are you sure? I can wait here.”

“Why?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, obvious that he thinks your question was dumb, and he moves around to open your door again.

“Such a gentleman.” You praise, not being able to help yourself. You can’t remember the last time anyone opened anything for you.

He smiles and leads the way into the house. “Well, I try.”

“This is really pretty.” You tell him, stepping into a long hallway where you can see the living room off to one side and the kitchen off to the other.

“You want the tour?” He asks, throwing his keys into a glass bowl and taking his suit jacket off. There are actually two guns on his belt, the one on his right hip you hadn’t seen.

“No, it’s okay. Just seeing the downstairs is enough to make me depressed about my small apartment.”

John scoffs and opens the front door to let in some air. “I like your place. It’s comfortable there. And the cooking’s really good.”

You laugh and he steers you more into the kitchen, which is huge with a tile floor and what looks like all new appliances. “I’d love to cook in this kitchen. There’s so much room!”

“Yeah?” He stops and looks at you very seriously. “You officially have an open invitation to cook here any time.”

“Ha ha.” You push at his shoulder and walk to the big wood dining table, looking around. There are a bunch of picture frames, but they’re all in a pile on a shelf by the coffee maker. You wonder what kind of pictures he has and why they aren’t on display. You don’t want to be nosy though, so you run your finger over the espresso machine that looks like it cost more than a month of pay. “Marry me?” You bend over and ask it, breathing in deeply the scents of coffee.

John laughs and points at a smaller hallway. “Laundry is through there.” He points at a door. “Basement.” He walks through the kitchen and into the living room, which is sparse but still lovely. You wonder if he decorated this place himself or if he had help.

“Evening entertainment.” He points to the TV even though you see a stack of heavy books on the coffee table, some of them well read. “Upstairs?” He asks, starting for the staircase. You shrug, trying not to seem eager and interested.

The amount of sunlight the house gets is incredible. There are windows everywhere, but you can’t see any neighbors and it’s fairly quiet. This is like your dream house.

“Wow.” It’s all you can say when you enter the master bedroom. A huge bed in the middle that looks so very soft. There’s a sitting couch and table, with a bureau next to the walk in closet. The view is fantastic and you can even see the lake from here. You walk to the other side of his bedroom and almost press your face against the glass. “You live right across from the community college campus! That’s so cool!”

John is in his closet, probably getting new clothes for the day, but you can hear him say, “Yeah?”

“Yeah! You could walk there if you wanted to! Save a ton on parking.” You mutter, more to yourself.

Suddenly he’s right behind you, now in a white cotton shirt with long sleeves. “What do you mean?”

“I applied to go to school in the fall. I want to take some classes, maybe try for a degree or something. My place is far, so it’ll be a hassle but that’s okay.” You tug on the hem of his shirt as you walk by him, throwing your purse on the bed. “What else is up here?” You ask, peering down another long hallway.

He has a proud look in his eyes and he’s still gapping at you a little. “I didn’t know you’re going back to school.”

“Oh, something you finally didn’t know, I can’t believe it.”

“Well, I saw the application on your kitchen table but I didn’t want to assume.”

You laugh because of course he did. “Were you snooping, John Wick?”

“Never. I just observe.”

“Oh, I see.”

He opens the door to an empty bedroom with no furniture. “This was supposed to be a guest room but I never got around to it.”

“What about that room?” You point to the door at the end of the hallway.

“My office.”

“Ooh. Do you have assassin secrets in there?” You smile teasingly and walk back to his bedroom to get your purse.

“No, those are in the basement.”

Laughing, you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You don’t think he is.

The windows are calling again and you can’t help but to take one more look of the view. “This is just so nice. You have everything in walking distance. The lake, the school…”

There’s a beat of silence before he says, “You should move in here.”

That makes you throw your head back and really laugh. How funny. “John, don’t be stupid.”

“How is that stupid?” He asks, his tone is serious but kind. “There’s an empty room. You can walk to school. You can watch the dog for me when I go on… work trips. You would have a kitchen to cook in.”

This man seems to keep surprising you. “You’ve only known me for like a month. What if I smell bad or something?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You smell amazing.”

“What if I play loud music really late at night?”

“You can’t keep your eyes open past ten.”

“What if I have parties all weekend long?”

“While you work and go to school? Be my guest.”

“What if I’m messy and leave my clothes everywhere?”

John’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “Did you just pretend to be neat while I was at your place for two days?”

He’s right, you do like a clean house. “Whatever, John.” Hoping that he drops it. “Don’t you have to get the dog?”

“Damn, stay here. I’ll be right back. Their house is just down the street.” He runs down the stairs and you can hear the screen door open and shut.

You look around the bedroom again and take it all in. What a completely different life this would be. Not that you don’t like your apartment. It’s cozy and you’re proud of what you’ve established for yourself. This is too fancy for you anyway. Plus, you like having your space. John would be the weirdest roommate ever. You can’t even imagine.

You jog down the stairs to wait on the couch. You spot some more picture frames stacked nicely in a pile and you’re just about to sneak a look when you can hear them approach the house.

“Puppy kisses!” You cry out and kneel down to gather a happy dog in your arms. If you had any idea this was the dog driving you mad all those nights, you would have taken him for yourself.

“Pooch! Get down.” John’s Alpha voice is hot and both you and the dog stop everything.

He trots over to his doggy bed anyways and plops down. “Cassey, the little girl, wore him out at the park this morning.” John says. “Are you ready to go?”

The movie! You had almost forgotten with all the excitement of being in John’s house.

“Yeah, let’s do it. And don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Don’t get scared.” You tell him, in a bravado voice.

“Can we get gummy bears?” He asks and you crack up on the way back to the garage.

“You’re a grown man, you can get whatever you want.”

John hurries to open the car door for you again. “I meant, would you have any or would you like something else?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, that’s a big decision.” You slide back into the car and think to yourself that you could really get used to the chivalry John is showing. You wonder how long it could last. “I think I have to see all my options.”

John smiles as he starts the car and lowers the garage door. “This is really serious.”

You fasten your seatbelt and get comfortable. “When’s the last time you went to a movie?”

He turns his head to back out of the driveway, putting his arm around your seat. His face is very close to yours and you notice that his eyes are a very pretty brown when he’s not working.

“Good point.”

You grin, breaking the eye contact because it’s making your stomach fill with butterflies that you mentally quiet down.

The theater is busy and you realize it’s a Friday during summer, so all the teenagers are here. John’s phone rings as he parks and tells you he has to take it, so you decide to get in line and buy the tickets. He’s leaning against his car, chatting while looking around at his surroundings and smiles at you when he catches you checking on him.

You quickly see that the movie is sold out and not knowing what to do, you walk back to John and the car just as he’s finishing his conversation. It sounds like he was speaking in Russian, but you can’t be sure. “All set?” He asks, sliding the phone in his pocket and reaching to put his hand on your back. He hardly ever really touches you, but his hand hovers over your body constantly.

“It’s sold out.” You tell him. “Do you want to see something else or maybe come back another day?”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed. “But you really wanted to see that movie.”

“It’s okay, shit happens, right?” You shrug it off easily. This is not the worst thing that could happen. Plus, you’re hanging out with John, so you could be going to the town dump and you’d be happy.

“Hold on. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He takes off towards the theater and leaves you by the car. You watch him go and it’s almost like he’s in slow motion again. You wonder how just his stride oozes that much confidence.

In a few minutes he’s back with two tickets. “Here we go. C’mon.”

“How’d you do that?” You dumbly follow him to the theater doors and he guides you to walk in front of him.

“It’s a secret. What do you want?”

You’re still staring at him in a silent awe as he looks at the refreshment stand. A beautiful young worker comes to help and John’s gaze is just on you.

“Um… gummy bears? Right?” You ask him, trying to snap out of it. “That’s what you wanted?”

He leans in close, dark hair falling into his eyes. “I’m asking what you want.”

You don’t really remember what the hell you say, but somehow John pays and leads you down a long hallway and to your seats. Now he’s really close to you and the smell of his cologne is making your legs weak.

“You okay?”

“Yes!” It comes out too fast but you realize you’re acting weird and need to get with it.

John nods and crosses his long legs, sitting back in the chair and shifting towards you, whispering as advertisements play on the big screen. “I have a question.”

“Yes?”

“Do friends hold hands at the movies?”

You close your eyes. “No, John. They do not.”

“Not even when I scored tickets that were sold out?”

You lean in to him and smile. “If you tell me how you did that, I might reconsider the answer to your question.”

“Hmm…” He runs fingers over his beard as he thinks. “I talked to the manager.”

“And?”

“And I paid him.”

“John!”

“What? You wanted to know, so I told you.”

You shake your head in disbelief as the lights lower and the movie starts. “You’re crazy.”

He doesn’t disagree with you, but he does turn towards the screen, still touching your elbow throughout most of the first half of the movie. When it gets really creepy, he covers his mouth every time you jump in your seat, hiding his smile.

You somehow get closer to his shoulder, shielding your eyes and turning into his body when you jump again, grabbing onto his arm. The muscles you feel are solid, and you technically knew they were there, you just never really considered them before. And you are definitely considering them now.

John lets you hold on to him, and even offers to hold your hand when the movie winds down and you link his pinky with yours, not wanting to totally turn him down. He seems satisfied with that and smoothes his thumb down your hand a few times before the credits roll.

“That was so good!” You exclaim, getting up from your seat and stretching. “I forgot how fun the movies are!”

“You were scared.” John teases, playfully shaking your hand with his.

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Whatever, you were scared too.” You tell him, pushing the heavy doors open and heading to his car. The sky is darker now and the wind has picked up, chilling your arms. You wish you had brought a sweater.

“I was definitely not scared.” John laughs, his hand hovering over your back again. You feel it because you stop for a car and his arm is suddenly pressed into your waist. He moves quickly though, opening the door for you to get inside.

He turns on the heat as soon as he can and asks where you want to eat.

“It’s up to you. I could go for anything.”

“Sushi?”

That surprises you and you can’t help but look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t know John Wick likes sushi. I see you more of an all meat kinda guy.”

“I have a very sophisticated pallet.”

“Oh, my mistake.” You laugh and tell him to lead the way.

He takes you to a really nice place and you talk about the movie and the food all throughout dinner. It’s nice, not forced, and fun. These past two days, even with the weird circumstances, have been really fun. You want to pay for the dinner, but of course John beats you to it without you even realizing until it’s far too late. You glare at him and tell him that friends usually split the check. He apologizes with a sparkle in his eye and you know he’s not sorry at all.

When John pulls up to your apartment you thank him for such a great day.

“Are you sure you’re not going to be scared?” He asks, after telling you he had fun today too.

“Yes, John.”

“I could spend the night again, just to make sure.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. And you have to get back to Pooch.”

“You could spend the night at my place.” John offers, completely innocent but realizes what he says and adds, “I could take the couch, of course.”

“Good bye, John.” You tell him and he wants you to let him know if you need anything, or if you hear from Max. “I will.” Waving, you open the car door before he can get out and do it for you. The walk up to your apartment is quiet and just a little lonely.

Once you get inside it’s worse, but you try to ignore it. Instead, you lay in bed where John had slept and cuddle the pillows.

He texts you once he’s home, to make sure you made it to the apartment okay.

You didn’t let me walk you upstairs, he texts with a sad face.

Instead of telling him that you’re a grown up or you don’t need his protection, you simply text back next time.

You really hope there’s a next time.

TBC Chapter 3

#john wick #john wick x you #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x y/n #romance #slow build #find your worth #chapter 2 #keanu reeves

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pictureofsirgalahad · 3 years

Text

Shooting Stars and Satellites

I finished it! Thank you to @apsychicmoosewithflannelforfur for beta reading, and for everyone who liked the snippet I posted yesterday.

Summary: Jody’s house is full of damn good food, and damn good people. There’s nowhere better to spend thanksgiving.

Read on Ao3

“Dean! Will you please sit still!”

Sam ran a hand down his exhausted face as his son once again jumped off his chair to go bother the dog, ruining the shirt that Sam had just finished tucking in.

“Why?” Dean asked, pulling on Miracle’s ear. Miracle, to his credit, was being very calm about the whole situation.

“Because we’re going over to Auntie Jody’s house for Thanksgiving, remember? It’s a special day, so you should wear special clothes.”

“Why?” Dean asked again. Honestly, the kid had a point. Sam sighed, giving Dean one more once over, before deciding that the shirt was a lost cause and leaving it be.

“Good question, why don’t you ask Auntie Jody when we get there. Now come here so I can do your hair.” Sam grabbed a comb and got one pull through Dean’s mess of hair before the three year old shrieked and ran from the room.

“Dean!” Sam chased the boy into the hallway to find him caught in Eileen’s arms, struggling to get free.

“What happened?” she asked, exasperated.

‘Didn’t want me to brush his hair,’ Sam signed back. Eileen grinned.

“Sounds like somebody else I know,” she replied, giving Sam a knowing look. He rolled his eyes. Eileen let Dean go, silencing him with a look. Their son hung his head and allowed his father to quickly brush through his hair, which turned out to be pointless anyway. At this point they were already running late, so there was a mad dash to get the Winchester Surprise out of the oven and strap Dean into his car seat.

When they arrived, Patience met them in the front yard. She gave Dean a big hug then ushered him towards the house. He ran ahead while she helped Sam and Eileen carry some of their dishes in.

“Sorry we’re late, things were a little chaotic,” Sam apologized hurriedly. Patience turned toward them.

“Don’t worry about it! We haven’t gotten up to much yet, though Gertie and the boys have been so excited for Dean to get here.”

Sam chuckled fondly, remembering how ecstatic Dean had been when he had told him Sammy and Cas were going to be there. Garth’s twins were six, three years older than Dean, but they all played together like they were the same age, ever since Dean learned how to walk. Someone had once made a joke that it was meant to be, Team Free Will 3.0, but people stopped saying stuff like that after Eileen threatened to break their wrists. Gertie liked to play with them too, but she’d recently hit that awkward age where she’s torn between wanting to sit at the adults table, wanting to prove she can be a good babysitter, and wanting to just run around with her brothers. Luckily that meant she tried to hang out with everyone at family dinners, which all the guests always appreciated.

Upon walking through the door they were greeted by Gertie and the twins running through the foyer, Claire following closely behind to make sure they didn’t break anything. Jody noticed them enter and straightened up, closing the oven door.

“Sam! Eileen! Happy Thanksgiving!” She made her way over to the pair and gave each of them a tight hug. She grabbed Sam by the jaw and looked him in the eyes. “How are you doin’ Sam?”

He gave her a somewhat forced smile. The five year anniversary of Dean’s death had been just a few days ago, and it had been rough on all of them. Jody sighed and patted his face, then turned around to head back into the kitchen. “Everyone’s in the living room, they’re excited to see y’all. I’ll catch up in a few minutes, I’ve just gotta finish checking this damn turkey.”

Sam translated this information to Eileen, who was looking at him expectantly. Their friends tried their best, but it was difficult to lipread so many people, sometimes people forgot they had to be looking directly at her to be understood.

They entered the living room and were greeted by a lot of women. And Garth. Bess and Donna were watching the game with rapt attention, while Garth and Kaia sat off to the side, drinking beer and chatting quietly. Patience and Alex were helping in the kitchen, and Sam hoped to God that wherever Claire and the kids were, she was keeping them out of trouble rather than enabling it, but he sincerely doubted it.

Sam cleared his throat and everyone’s eyes turned to them. Then the room erupted in a cacophony of greetings. Donna got up and gave the both of them a bear hug, squeezing the air out of their lungs. Everyone was talking to them at once, and Sam couldn’t even think about trying to help Eileen, because he couldn’t figure out who to focus on. He just tried to say hey to everyone, and Eileen did the same. They all exchanged how are you’s, good to see you’s, it’s been a while’s. It was nice, seeing all of them, but it wasn’t long before he found himself putting a hand on Eileen’s shoulder to get her attention.

‘I’m going to help Jody and the girls. You stay and visit,’ he signed, getting up. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand, then turned back to the story Donna was telling about the nice young hunter she’d met recently, who had asked her to dinner and a movie, but don’t be goofball Eileen, he wasn’t interested in her! Sam huffed a laugh at Donna’s obliviousness.

“Need a hand?” he asked as he entered the kitchen. Jody looked over at him as she washed a potato, nodding over at the cutting board that was currently occupied by Patience.

“Sure! How about you take over for Patience over there, she’s been helping me all day long.” She moved out of the way of the sink to let him wash his hands, then went back to the potatoes. Patience gave him a grateful smile as she handed over the knife she was using to chop carrots. They worked in silence for a few minutes, the only conversation coming from Alex telling Sam to get the hell out of the way of the cutlery drawer, which he did hastily, worried about what she would do once she got the knife she wanted from it. After a while though, the overwhelmed feeling that he had been trying to escape before died down, and he felt up for some small talk.

“So, how have things been over here?” he asked, scooping up the celery pieces and throwing them in a bowl.

“Well, it’s been a little bit lonely around here with Patience in school and Claire and Kaia out of the nest. I’m just happy to have them home for the holidays.” Jody replied, and Sam nodded, drying his hands on a dish towel. The house had been so busy for so long, but now most of the girls had moved on. “At least I still have Alex, but she’s not home as much, because she got a new job.”

“Jody!” Alex squeaked, embarrassed.

“What?! That’s amazing!” Sam cheered. She had been having trouble finding work after finishing school, and had been waiting for a job to come up for a few months. “Where are you working?”

“I got hired as a nurse practitioner here at Sioux Falls General,” she replied nonchalantly, and Sam’s jaw dropped.

“Alex! That’s incredible! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly, blushing at the praise. They quickly finished up the last of the work that needed to be done in the kitchen, and everything was in the oven. All they needed to do was wait. The three of them started to make their way back into the living room, but before they crossed the threshold, Sam caught Jody by the elbow.

“You did a really good job with them,” he told her. They both watched as Alex sat down on the couch next to Patience, stealing one of the crackers she was holding.

“I barely did anything,” Jody replied, leaning against the doorframe.

“You know that’s not true,” Sam scolded, “They’re good kids, but you’re the one that led them down the right path. You gave them the love and acceptance they needed most. You’re a hero Jody. And a good mom.”

“Well then,” Jody whispered, taking a sip of her beer. They both ignored the shine of tears in her eyes. “Thank you for bringing them to me.”

They stood in silence for a few more moments before Jody cleared her throat.

“Speaking of good parents, where’s your son?” Sam laughed out loud.

“Hell if I know.”

“Well, find him, and get washed up. We’re goin’ to eat soon.”

They went their separate ways, and Sam eventually found Dean in the backyard, covered in mud and showing a worm to Cas. Claire was nearby, trying to get Sammy to stop pulling on her hair. She looked so worn out that he almost felt bad for her, but instead he just laughed at her predicament and helped peel Sammy off of her. He gave her a beer as a form of thanks, which she took gratefully.

“Cas, Sammy, it’s time for dinner.” At the mention of food, the twins perked up and immediately started running back inside. Dean made no move to get up from his spot in the dirt, tearing out handfuls of grass. “Dean, c’mon bud. Let's go get washed up.” When Dean didn’t answer, Sam crouched down to his level. “What’s wrong dude? You not hungry?” Dean crawled into Sam’s lap, and quietly started playing with the buttons on his dad’s shirt.

“Daddy?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yeah Dean?”

“There’s only one me.” Sam looked down at his son, confused.

“What do you mean bud? Of course there’s only one of you.”

“I heard Cousin Claire say I’m just like other Dean.” Sam froze. “What does that mean? There’s only on me, right?” Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and rubbed Dean’s back.

“Yeah, there’s only one you. Don’t worry, I’m not hiding another one somewhere.” Sam told the boy, knowing that was what he was worried about. Dean nodded, and uncurled himself from Sam’s lap, now confident in his own uniqueness.

“Then who’s other Dean?” he asked, going back to shredding up clumps of grass. Jody was going to kill them. Sam took a shaky breath.

“Have I ever told you the story of how you got your name?” Sam asked, knowing he hadn’t. Dean shook his head. “Well, before you were born, I had a big brother.”

“Like my big brother?”

“Kind of, but it was more like how Sammy and Cas are brothers. His name was Dean, just like you,” Dean looked up at Sam, his dark eyes full of curiosity. He looked more like Eileen than he would ever look like Sam. “But he died. Just like how Mr. Water the fish died, remember?” Dean frowned at the mention of his dead goldfish, but looked like he understood. “So we named you after him, because he was really awesome, and we knew you were gonna be really awesome too.”

“Oh.” Dean said, then looked contemplative for a moment. “Am I just like other Dean?” Sam sighed.

“In some ways. Like how cool you are, and how much you love Miracle. But you’re different in a lot of ways too. And that’s a good thing. Because that means you are your own person, and we love that person so, so much. Do you hear me?” Sam took Dean by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes to make sure he understood.

When it was clear he did, Sam decided the serious moment was over. “Come on, let’s get washed up.” he announced, trying to grab Dean by the midsection.

“No!! I don’t want to!” Dean giggled, trying to escape his father’s grasp.

“I guess if you won’t listen to me, you’ll have to listen to… the tickle monster!” Dean squealed with breathless laughter as Sam attacked him, and was quickly begging him to stop. Sam did, and got up, reaching out a hand for Dean to take.

Together they went inside and washed their hands for dinner. As they entered the dining room, Sam passed Dean onto Eileen, who watched with amused attention as her son excitedly started signing about the bugs he found outside. Garth and Donna finished setting the table, and everyone sat down. Sam started reaching for a roll, but Jody slapped his hand away from across the table.

“Sam Winchester, I swear!” She scolded, with no real heat behind the words.

“Sorry Jody!” She shook her head at him, then stood up to address the group.

“Since this is Thanksgiving, I wanted to be stereotypical for a second and tell all of you just how grateful I am that we have each other, and that everyone could make it up this year. And of course, we should remember that those who couldn’t be here, are here in spirit, and we miss them every day,” Everyone bowed their heads. It was a hunter gathering, after all. They had to acknowledge the ones they lost.

“We’re all so lucky to be with each other and eat this food together, this food that we slaved over, so you better damn well enjoy it! Dig in.” Everyone cheered as Jody finished her speech and sat back down.

All of them started loading their plates with delicious smelling food, and the whole room was full of laughter. Sam got Dean some strips of turkey breast, some mashed potatoes, and roasted broccoli, which was the only part of the meal he ate. Eileen had to force him to eat two bites of turkey before he could have desert. There were three kinds of pie, and a dozen chocolate chip cookies that Jody had made specifically for Dean, because Dean didn’t like pie. He never had.

The night started to die down after desert. Jody recruited Claire and Kaia to help with the dishes, as they hadn’t helped with cooking earlier. The Fitzgeralds headed out first, because the kids all had school tomorrow. The stragglers were all lounging in the living room, trying to recover from the meal. Sam had an arm around Eileen’s shoulder, Dean curled up in between them. Eileen exchanged hunting stories with Donna, but Sam could see her yawning, and he felt about the same. Dean looked like he was going to be out for good if they stayed any longer. He patted her on the back, and she looked at him. He removed his arm from her shoulder and straightened his posture.

‘Ready to head home?’ he asked. She nodded, and they moved to get up. Sam scooped Dean into his arms, and they said their last goodbyes to Donna, Alex, and Patience. They made their way into the kitchen to let Jody and the girls know they were heading out. Kaia waved from her spot on the counter. Claire gave an enthusiastic goodbye to them, and gave Dean a high-five to send him off.

They grabbed the dishes they had brought along, and their coats to protect against the November chill. Jody followed them out to the front porch.

“Bye Jody! Thank you so much for dinner.” Eileen said, and Jody gave her a hug.

“Have a nice night Eileen,” she said once they had broken the embrace. Eileen nodded, and turned to Sam.

‘I’ll wait in the car,’ she signed, and put a hand on his shoulder as a way to tell him to take as long as he needed. Sam nodded, and turned back to say one last goodbye to Jody. Dean was half-asleep in his arms, his head rolling around on Sam’s shoulder.

The warm light and far-off clatter of dishes inside poured through the still-open door, fading softly into the quiet night air as calming background noise.

“Thanks for havin’ us today Jody,” Sam said quietly, hoisting his son higher up in his arms.

“Of course Sam. You know you’re welcome anytime.” She gave Sam a tight one-armed hug and kissed Dean on the top of his head. “You take care of yourself, okay Sam?” Sam smiled.

“Always do,” he replied. Jody chuckled.

“Uh huh. Dean?” Dean lifted his head to look at Jody, his tiny hand letting go of Sam’s neck to rub at his bleary eyes, “Take care of your daddy for me, will you?”

“Kay Auntie Jody,” Dean mumbled. Sam grip on him tightened minutely. He sounded like Dean.

“Good boy.” Jody whispered, and ruffled his hair. Dean batted her hand away, grumbling. Jody laughed and switched to ruining Sam’s hair, and he made a very indignant noise, which made Dean giggle. They all took a deep breath, inhaling in the scent of the damp grass that surrounded them. “Good night Sam,”

He nodded, and Jody gave them one last look before turning around and heading back into the house, closing the door behind her. They were left in a gentle silence.

“Did you have fun?” Sam asked as they made their way towards the car. Dean nodded against his chest, his thumb in his mouth. They were trying to break him out of that habit, worried about the long term effect on his jaw, but Sam decided to let him be tonight. They leaned against the car door for a moment.

“Let’s say goodnight to your brother.”

Dean looked up at the moon, then raised his hand to give a small wave.

“Night Jack,”

A breeze came through the trees, the stars seemed to shine a little brighter, and Sam felt every blade of grass reach out to them in recognition. He sighed.

Goodnight.

#spn spoilers #supernatural #sam winchester #eileen leahy #jody mills #wayward sisters #dean winchester junior #spn fics #my writing #post-series

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keelywolfe · 3 years

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.9 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting a chance to meet the local Sheriff and to say he is not excited would be an understatement.

Read chapter 9: ‘Addressing the Public’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

For his first day off from the grocery, today sure seemed like it was determined to make its mark so he couldn’t possibly forget it. At this point, it was about burned into Stretch’s memory, for sure.

First there was Doris who added her clues into his trick r treat bucket, then the town assholes showed up for their serial killer practice. Then, as a treat, he got to have the double punch of a lunch with Edge, a sweet and sour mixture of possibly flirtatious revelations coupled to an unwanted chat about his own traumas, served warm over some delicious pie.

Now it looked like he was about to get a sequel to the Assholes: Part Deux, the Assholes’ Revenge, in the form of a sheriff filled with blustering indignation and accusations, and all Stretch had was a mouthful of pie to defend himself. Worse, his only witness had already paid the bill and left.

Stretch swallowed his last bite, chasing it down with water when it tried to stick in the back of his throat as he went over possibilities. He could try to explain the situation, but if there was one thing he’d learned from living in Ebott, it was that if a Monster was talking to the cops, it was best to keep it short, sweet, and polite. Don’t try to explain or admit to shit, ‘cause they’d be more than happy to add another line to the list of things to harass you about.

Seriously, he missed being able to shortcut, this whole facing trouble head-on thing wasn’t for him.

The sheriff huffed again, loudly, and it fluffed up his broad mustache like a human-shaped walrus. He propped fists about the size of a baby’s head on his broad hips and growled out, “So? Is that it? You’re here startin’ some trouble in my peaceful little town?”

Stretch looked up into those mirrored sunglasses. If they were standing, Stretch would probably have a couple inches on the guy, but sitting here in the booth the sheriff loomed over him ominously, his own distorted reflection showing back his nervous face.

“no, sir,” Stretch said politely. Stick with the basic, that was good for a start, and hopefully Red would be willing to bail him out if that became necessary. At least Red wouldn’t have far to go.

The rest of the diner was staring, not a single fork was engaged as they watched the latest scene in the town drama unfold. Not that he blamed them, this was probably about the most action they’d seen in weeks, but he did sort of wish someone would be a little concerned rather than eagerly interested. Waiting to see if maybe the local sheriff was gonna slap on some cuffs so they could whip out their phones for a nice tiktok video while he was getting read his rights?

“No?” the sheriff demanded. His sunglasses reflected the overhead light, making Stretch wince back. “I heard you were out there riling up the corn yesterday. And today you were playing dog days with the doggerel boys?”

That was true, except how it wasn’t, and a trickle of sweat was winding its way down Stretch’s spine despite the air conditioning. Before he could wheeze out another ‘no sir’ or any other answer at all, a sudden, booming laugh filled the entire diner, loud enough to echo from the greasy grill before rolling back out to rattle the windows. The sheriff hooked his thumbs into a belt with a buckle so big that could probably double as a satellite dish, guffawing loudly, “Aw, you ain’t in any trouble, I’m just joshing ya, boy!”

Oh. Ohhhh, this was only a little goodnatured small-town hazing, that he could deal with, if he managed to swallow his quivering soul back down where it belonged. Stretch tried on a smile to match the sheriff’s ongoing laughter and found that it fit pretty well, all things considered.

“can’t be joshing, my name is stretch,” Stretch said with cautious humor. “but i guess stretching me would be an entirely different meaning. think they gave that one up in the middle ages.”

The sheriff bellowed out another laugh that practically shook the silverware, actually bending over to give his knee a loud slap. Around them rose other chuckles around mouthfuls of pie and how strange was it that he could feel the difference between people laughing at him and laughing with him. There was a certain fondness in that laughter, in the warm expressions coming his way from townsfolk that he sort of knew; these were people who’d bought their toilet paper and fresh apples from him on any given day, who’d give him waves and smiles when he passed them on the sidewalk and maybe it was an unusual form of kindness, but their humor still made unexpected tears prick in his sockets.

Stretch grabbed his napkin and dabbed hastily at his face as if he were wiping away sweat before anyone could see and misunderstand. How could he explain to them that in all his life, he’d never felt such a wash of overwhelming fondness from anyone except maybe his own brother.

(Not even from the person who’d told him so often and so tenderly that he loved him…until he didn’t, fucking hell, he wasn’t thinking about that right now, he wasn’t.)

The sheriff was obviously no fool and already his expression was softening into remorse, maybe coming up with an apology that Stretch desperately did not want, not for this. Rescue came almost too late and from an entirely unexpected source. Granny Collemore was so short Stretch could only see her steel-gray hair piled up in a messy bun over the top of the booth as she approached, but he heard her hollering well enough.

“Buford, you let that poor boy alone!” There was a smacking sound of a cane hitting flesh and Stretch couldn’t see where the blow struck, but the sheriff, Buford, let out a yelp, hopping on one foot as he frantically rubbed his shin.

“Sam Hill, granny, I was only playin!” he grumbled. He pulled up the leg of his trousers to examine his granny-inflicted wound. There was a reddened welt on the skin, already shading to purple.

“You hush yourself,” Granny huffed, “I’m half-past give-a-shit today and you may be the sheriff in these parts, but you ain’t too old for a hiding!” Granny shuffled into view, her cane hooked over one arm. She reached out with her wrinkled hands and Stretch leaned over obediently to let her to cup his face gently in her palms as she clucked with concern. “Does he look like he’s up for your shenanigans?” she groused loudly, “‘specially since this feller is working over at the grocery with Red, bless his heart.”

“That a fact?” Buford pushed his hat up and offered a crooked smile. “Must be a brave soul, then. Well, you tell that sonavabitch I’m gunning for him this Sunday. He better be there with silver bells on and you tell him that whatever aces are up his sleeves, better make sure they ain’t spades, ‘cause that’s the reverend’s favorite cheat.”

“i’ll do that,” Stretch agreed, a touch bewildered. Hell, he’d thought Red was joking when he said the sheriff was his poker buddy.

That sounded like an exit line, it was starting to look like Stretch was going to make it out of here unscathed, and he might have if Granny hadn’t put in, happily, “Anyhoo, Buford, you just miss seeing Edge. He was here sharing a slice of pie with our new fella.”

Dark eyebrows rose up over those mirrored lenses and Buford hooted a laugh, “Oho, that how it is. On a date with our Edge, were ya.”

Great, that was exactly what he didn’t want getting back to Red. Enjoying a little flirting was one thing, but not if it started the wheels of the gossip train turning. With his luck, it would crash right into a dumpster fire. “uh, no, no dates, just pie.”

He did not expect Buford to suddenly look a little offended, those eyebrows drawing down into a frown behind his glasses. “Why in the Sam Hill not? Ain’t he your type?”

“Uh.” Stretch looked around a little wildly, away from Granny and Buford to see the rest of the diner was still watching them with interest. No, not just interest, there was an awful lot of sly looks there and whispering behind hands, along with soft expressions and doe-eyes…

Oh. Oh, shit, it was worse than he thought. They were invested, everyone in this diner was taking sides and they were choosing the romance option, this was bad, this sort of thing was infectious and the last thing he needed right now was an entire town of matchmakers trying to hook him up with the local hottie. It was like an unsolved Agatha Christie took a sudden, sideways turn into a Hallmark Gyftmas movie.

Buford and the rest of the diner were all waiting for him to explain why he and Edge weren’t dating and Stretch was sitting here, fumbling around at the pass.

“we’re not dating, we’re just—” Stretch coughed awkwardly, hesitating. The truth was ‘it’s complicated’ was probably most accurate, although ‘barely met acquaintances’ was a close second, or even the generic, ‘he’s my boss’s baby bro whose ass i am definitely not staring whenever i see him but also his smile is really nice and—' “—friends,” Stretch finished, lamely.

Buford nodded like he’d offered not a nugget of wisdom, but an entire ten-piece with the tangy sauce. The light reflected in his mirrored gaze as he said, kindly, “That ain’t a bad thing.”

Relieved, Stretch let out an unsteady laugh, “kinda surprised you don't think i'm a cousin or something.”

Buford snorted loudly at that, “Son, you boys don't look a thing alike.”

And that there was another surprise to add to his daily total. In Ebott, Stretch was constantly getting mistaken for Papyrus or Sans, even his own brother once or twice. Half the time, people either didn’t know his name or didn’t care to, and Backwater was a strange place, no question, but that sure didn’t mean it was bad.

Buford didn’t seem to notice his shock as he went on, “Now there’s a boy who could use some en-ter-tainment. Works too hard, damned if he don’t.”

Now that was a clue looking him right in the face and Stretch took the Velma leap and pounced on it, trying for a little discreet nonchalance, “yeah? what does he work so hard at?”

A shame Buford seemed to be pretty quick on the draw. He gave Stretch a shrewd look, “He ain’t told you?”

“no, sir,” Stretch sighed glumly. Seriously, he was the worst Velma ever.

Buford went ahead and poured salt into the open wound with another short laugh, “Naw, I’ll ain’t stepping in that cow pie. I’ll let him talk to ya about that. But see if you can’t get him to slow down for another--” Buford gave him a sly wink and actually hooked his thick fingers into air quotes, “’friend date’, wontcha?”

Then he grunted as Granny Collemore jammed her elbow into his soft gut, tutting loudly, “You never did shake the ants outta your pants did you, Buford! Let those boys alone, they'll go at their own pace.” To Stretch she offered sunny, toothless grin, “Come on, and walk an old lady out.”

“yes, ma’am,” Stretch said. Hey, he might be an idiot, but he was no fool. He stood up, ready to make his getaway, halted only briefly by Buford snatching up his hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake, though his grip was gentle on the delicate bones.

“Welcome to town, Stretch,” Buford told him. For once he was completely serious as he said, low, “and don’t you worry about those boys.” He tapped the side of his nose, his broad finger reflected in his sunglasses. “I know what happened, it’ll be taken care of.”

“i appreciate that,” Stretch said, and he meant it. He turned and followed after Granny, only dodging ahead to hold up the door so she could shuffle out.

“Thank you, sonny,” Granny huffed as she made her slow way through the door. “These old bones ain’t as spry as yours. You should head on home now, there's a storm a’comin'."

Stretch looked up into the cloudless sky in confusion, greeted by endless blue.

“Oh, you can trust me," Granny grimaced and rubbed at her hip, "these joints don't lie."

“i will,” Stretch agreed. After his lesson with the corn, he was taking the townsfolk at their word and if granny said a storm was heading this way, he expected to see clouds blowing in any minute now.

He left Granny to make her way home and headed back to the store. Red only grunted when he came in, didn’t even look up from his book as he hooked an absent thumb towards his apartment. There was a bag sitting on the table and when Stretch looked inside, there was a sandwich neatly covered in plastic wrap, a bag of chisps, and a bottle of juice. He was still full up on pie, but it would make for a nice, simple dinner, good thing he had Red up there looking after him. Maybe he should suggest to Red that he get a tattoo, a nice heart engraved on his arm with ‘Mom’ in the middle, since now he had one.

Stretch took the bag upstairs with him and opened the window. He took a moment to breathe in the already cooling air, a herald to the coming storm.

The book was sitting where he’d left it last night when he’d dragged himself off Red’s sofa, limbs spaghettied from sleep and his mind noodly mush. He’d brought the book along without even thinking about it and now the hardcover seemed to mock him with the necessary knowledge hidden somewhere within those pages.

Welp, there was only one way he was gonna get the info out of it and that didn’t mean beating it against his skull until the words shook out. He picked it up and settled to sit cross-legged on the bed, bracing himself for what might well be hours of boredom as he turned it to the first page.

And frowned. At the top of the page was a family name, ‘Anderson’, along with the date, ‘1884’. There was a short selection of first names beneath it and next to each was what looked like a telephone number and an address.

“what the hell?” Stretch muttered. He flipped to the second page and it was the same thing, only the name was ‘Armstrong’ and there were a lot more first names to go with it, someone was getting busy on the weekends, for sure.

Stretch flipped to the next page, and the next. All of them had the same thing, a last name, then a collection of firsts with a number and an address. Finally, he flipped back to the title page. There, right underneath the scrolling text declaring the book ‘The Informal History of Backwater’ was a tiny addition he hadn’t noticed before, stating in a small, stark font, ‘Municipal Directory.’

For a long moment, Stretch could only stare at it, until the words started floating in his sight. Laughter bubbled up suddenly, fizzing in him like a shaken soda. "sonofabitch," Stretch burst out, snickering madly. The damn thing was a glorified telephone book and Edge had flat-out given him his damned address already, practically gift-wrapped it! And he'd almost refused to take the damn thing! Guy wasn't only sexy, he had jokes and if he wasn't already a treat to the senses, that would have upgraded him to a bone-ified snack.

Address had to be in here, all Stretch needed to do was find it. The book was bigger than he would’ve thought from a small town, but from the look of it, they never took anyone out, only kept adding on. Occasionally next to a name he saw an abbreviated ‘dec.,’ so maybe this was a bit of town history, after all, kind of a family tree, anyway.

It still took him awhile to find their names, flipping through the book. The names were alphabetized, but that didn’t help much when the family he was looking for didn’t have a last name. Finally, under the surname ‘Skeleton’, he found them.

“should’ve tried that to begin with,” Stretch muttered. He read the entry, following along with his finger, only to pause in confusion when it came to the date recorded neatly by their names. It listed them as arriving in town over a decade ago and if that was when they came to Backwater, then whoever printed this needed to proofread a little better, because that was impossible. Monsters had only been on the surface for a couple years, not quite three now, so it had to be a mistake.

Except, Edge struck him as the kind of guy who was pedantic enough that there was no way he wouldn’t bitch until it was fixed; anyone who ate their pie like it was a military maneuver wouldn’t be able to stand such an egregious error. And he’d made sure to give Stretch the book, so he damn well knew he’d be seeing this. So what the hell did all this mean?

What did any of this mean?

Stretch sank back against the wall behind him, tipping his head up so he could stare at the ceiling. There was a crack in the plaster in one the corner, spidering off into a shape like a lightning bolt and that was exactly what Stretch felt like he’d been struck with.

What the hell was this place? Some kind of fairytale, where one day in town was a week on the outside? If he hopped on another bus and made his way to the next town over, would the papers tell him it was next Tuesday or the next century?

It was enough to inspire him to check his messages. Stretch fumbled for his phone, opening the text app for the first time in days. The amount of alerts made him wince but it was the last message that roused that endless ache in his soul back up to true pain.

I understand that you’re hurting, brother. You don’t have to tell me where you are. You don’t even have to call. All I ask is you send me a message every once in a while to let me know you’re all right. Please.

Stretch closed his sockets and swallowed against the sudden knot in his throat. Before he could rethink it, he typed a hasty, i’m all right and sent it, then lurched over to shove his phone into the nightstand drawer, slamming it shut.

Even so, he couldn’t help listening, straining to hear but there was no vibrating buzz, nothing to indicate a return message.

Good enough.

Stretch took a deep, shaky breath, then dragged the book back over and studied the entry again. Red’s address was the store, no surprises there, but Edge was listed under 637 Wood’s End Drive.

Wood’s End. Seriously?

Welp, it was one mystery solved, anyway, even if he’d skipped the meddling kids part. Now all he needed was to plan a field trip.

A sudden flash of lightning lit the room, putting the fake bolt on his ceiling to bitter shame and the sky outside seemed to burst, rain pouring down and pelting through his open window. Stretch scrambled over to slam it closed, shaking away the damp on his hands. All the sunshine from earlier was gone, the sky darkened into angry, swirling storm clouds as the downpour drenched the parched earth.

Yeah, field trip was postponed on account of rain, but not for long. He’d get there and maybe once he showed up on Edge’s doorstep, he’d finally get some real answers.

For now, though, all Stretch wanted was a towel.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

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dumbchickwrites · 4 years

Text

office affairs -- part 4

Pairings: CEO!Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Sam is the CEO of the Red Wing PR agency where Reader has been working for the past two years. Problem is, they both think one hates the other. However, when their friends set them up on a blind date, they’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: language, Reader is still thirsty, fluff, Mimi wants to gossip.

A/N: This series is part of @marvelmaree‘s birthday challenge. You can find the masterlist on my blog and hers! Enjoy!

Brunch with your friends and your sister is always a good time. You can’t complain. You have drinks, food and some of the people you love the most. And on this particular Sunday, you still feel the euphoria of your date with Sam.

All weekend you tried to let it go already, telling yourself that you were acting like a middle school girl. But at the same time, who cares, right? Once again, you reminded yourself to let yourself be for a moment, without your self-consciousness stopping you from simply feeling.

“Is she daydreaming again?”

“I bet she’s thinking about Sam.”

“Who’s Sam?”

“No one, baby. Eat your food.”

Someone snaps their fingers in front of your face. You blink a couple of times before frowning at the owner of said hand. Maria doesn’t flinch under your glare.

“Where did you go?” Noelle asked.

You take a sip of your mimosa before you answer.

“Back at L’Orage.”

“Annnnd…?” Natasha pushes.

“We—” you begin, but your gaze meets Michelle’s.

She’s looking at you like she also wants all the tea. Your eyes lower to her empty plate, hers follow your gaze. You know what she’s thinking, and she knows what you’re thinking.

“Mimi, you’re done eating right? Why don’t you go watch some TV inside?” you say before her little hand reaches the basket of pastries on the table.

“But—”

“Auntie Henny is right,” Noelle cuts her and you roll your eyes at the nickname. “We don’t want you to get sick, right?” she says, rubbing her belly.

“Okay, Mommy. Can I get more juice from the fridge, please?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you!”

Just like that, she’s back inside the house.

“I thought the use of that nickname was forbidden in this house,” you say.

“We’re in the backyard,” your sister gives you an innocent smile.

You throw your napkin at her but she easily catches it.

“Anyways. We kissed.”

“Huh,” Natasha crosses her arms over her chest and lays back on her chair. “But?”

“What?”

“There’s a but. There’s always a but with you,” Maria says.

“There’s no but. We kissed, that’s it. It was a very nice kiss. Then he took me home—Back here!” you add quickly when you see how big Maria and Natasha’s eyes got. “He said he’s down for a second date.”

“So how do you feel about him?” Maria asks.

“Do you want me to tell you you were right? Because that’s not gonna happen.”

Maria gives you a look. You sigh.

“It turns out he doesn’t hate me at all. He was actually kind of shocked when I talked to him about that. He thought I didn’t like him,” you take another sip of your drink. “I like him a lot. He’s nice, funny, he listens to me when I talk.”

“Annnnnd…?” this time it comes from Noelle.

“And I kinda want him to bend me over a desk some time.”

The four of you burst out laughing like madwomen.

“More seriously, I guess I should thank you guys. I had a really nice time.”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie,” Natasha rubs your arm. “Personally, I think you guys are a match made in heaven. Literally.”

“Don’t jinx it, Nat!” Maria exclaims.

Natasha makes a zipping motion over her lips with a little smirk.

As Noelle refills your champagne flutes and you move on to another topic – here Noelle and Laetitia, the mother of the new kid in Mimi’s class --, you can’t help but feel grateful for this moment.

You were lucky to find people you can rely on other than your sister after so many years. After everything that happened. Sure your sister is your best friend and vice versa, but sometimes you can’t help but feel guilty about all the stuff you dump on her.

It’s not easy for you to interact with people and maintain healthy relationship. You try your best to find a nice balance between over communicating and totally isolating yourself. You’re still a work in progress though.

That’s why all this dating business was pushed aside for a few years.

Maria and Natasha end up spending the rest of the day at your house. You order takeout, drink some more – responsibly though, all while binge-watching Disney movies and playing board games with Michelle. It’s the nicest day you’ve had in a hot minute.

When the girls leave and it’s finally time for bed, you go to sleep with the ghost of today’s smiles still dancing on your lips.

In your opinion, Mondays are overrated. You never understood this whole thing anyway. Sure it’s the beginning of a new week, but it’s still a day like the others.

This particular Monday though, is a bit special. You’re excited to see whether or not Sam had the flowers delivered in your office. So excited that you’re walking around with a huge grin, your face beaming as you step into the elevator.

“Well good morning m’lady,” Scott from HR greets you when you step off the elevator. He’s at the front desk, talking to Rumlow.

“Morning Scott,” you say, still smiling.

“You got a secret admirer, huh?” Scott asks.

“Excuse me?”

“Your office is filled with flowers. And I mean filled. Janet walked by ten minutes ago and she hasn’t stopped sneezing since. Y’know, allergies.”

“Oh, um… I—” you stutter, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m just messing with you, kiddo. Just—If it’s a dude from around here, just make sure you stop by my office some time, ‘kay?”

Okay… You need to end this conversation now. You can feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Honestly, it’s not that you don’t like Scott, everybody likes Scott. It’s just that he can be a bit too much sometimes.

“Sure thing, Scottie. You have a good day, okay?”

You don’t wait for his answer before you keep walking towards your office, climbing the stairs leading to the first floor with ease.

A woman you don’t recognize is standing in front of your office, staring at the glass wall. The cleaning crew must have left the blinds open again despite your multiple notes.

“Hello,” you greet her before you reach your office. “Can I help you?”

You can’t see the inside yet but Scott was right, the scent is strong. Just how many flowers did Sam send?

Her gaze meets yours as she whips her head towards you, her long burgundy hair following the movement. She’s wearing a green suit, a bold but beautiful contrast with her skin tone.

“Hi!” she smiles. “I’m sorry, is this your office?”

“Yes. You’re new here, right?”

“Yes, yes. My name is Gamora, I’m the new Digital Manager,” she offers her hand for you to shake.

You introduce yourself as you shake her hand. “… I take care of—”

“Events, yes. It’s written on your door. Anyways, I was just looking at the flowers in your office. Must be nice. My boyfriend… He’s not really that kind of guy.”

“Um…”

Once again, you don’t know how to talk to people.

“Sorry if I’m being weird.”

“Oh, no, it’s… Don’t worry about it. So where are you from?” you ask.

You figure you should at least try to make small talk with her. She seems nice, she has a very kind face. There’s something about her eyes though… She’s clearly been through a lot.

“I’m from New Asgard, in Norway.”

“Wow, how did you end up here?”

“My boyfriend, Peter. He lives in the US and he asked me to move in with him. I couldn’t say no.”

The name makes you flinch, but you wipe the discomfort away as soon as it appears. Peter is a common name. In this city alone there are hundreds of them. You need to get used to it, it’s been years already.

“Well, on behalf of the entire Red Wing team, I’d like to say welcome,” you give her a genuine smile.

“Thank you so much. That means a lot.” With a sigh, she throws one last glance towards your office before she starts walking away. “I better find Scott, we’re not done with the tour yet. I’ll see you around, I guess?”

“Sure. Have a good day!”

Once she turns around the corner, you take the last few steps that lead you to your office.

“Oh my God,” you whisper.

Your office is filled with flowers all right. It’s not just fifty like Sam said. At least a dozen of bouquets of red roses, tulips and peonies are scattered around your office. On your coffee table, the empty spaces on your bookshelf, the floor… everywhere but on your desk. Thank God, the scent isn’t disturbing to you.

“Oh my God,” you whisper again.

You can’t believe your eyes. You set your bag on your desk and draw the blinds over the glass walls to keep the prying eyes out of your business. Walking around a bit, you take the time to inhale and admire every single bouquet.

“Wow, he really wasn’t joking.”

You turn around to find Natasha and Maria standing in your doorway, holding huge mugs.

That’s right the morning coffee. Morning coffee is always in your office on Monday and Wednesday.

“Aw sweetie, don’t cry!” Natasha grabs a tissues from the box on your coffee table and hands it to you.

You didn’t even realize you were crying. Damn, he really had you in the palm of his hand, huh?

“It’s just, no one has ever done something like this for me before, and I feel stupid now because I’m crying for fucking flowers.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid, okay?” Maria chips in. “From what you told us, you’re not used to this kind of treatment, so it’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed right now. Here,” she hands you one of the mugs she’s holding. “Mantis told us you just got in so we figured you didn’t have time to make your cup of tea yet.”

“Thank you.”

You take a sip of the beverage, the hot liquid helping with the lump in your throat.

“Is… Is he here?” you ask.

Their offices are located on the floor above yours along with Sam’s, so you rarely see him during the day.

“Not yet,” Natasha replies. “He’s late. Something about getting Falcon a new cone.”

Oh yeah. He mentioned his dog’s surgery Friday night.

“Good morning, ladies. You talking about me?”

There he is.

Sam is standing in the doorway, a smirk on his lips, always handsome. A warm feeling spreads in your chest at the sight of him, and this morning’s grin is back in an instant.

“Samuel,” Maria greets him. “You’re late.”

“Ah shit. The boss wouldn’t like that, would he?”

“Whatever,” Maria rolls her eyes at him.

“Maria, come to the kitchen with me, I want to see if the pastries have been delivered already,” Natasha says, grabbing Maria’s arm.

“But shouldn’t we go with—” her sentence is cut short by Natasha’s pointed look. “Ohhh. Right.”

The girls shut the door behind them as they exit your office, you and Sam left alone.

“Morning,” he says, slowly approaching you. “Do you like the flowers?”

“I do, very much. What happened to the fifty flowers, though?”

Sam shrugs. “They were supposed to represent the number of times I wanted to kiss you. But as the weekend went by, I lost count, so…”

Goddammit.

“Come here,” you mumble.

You grab his hand and pull him closer to you, your free hand finding its place at the back of his neck. The kiss you give him is slow and sweet as you do your best to express your gratitude. You’ve been on one date, yet he has managed to make you feel more special than you’ve ever felt. He really is something. Sam kisses you back, and you can feel him smile as he does.

“Thank you,” you say when you break the kiss. “This is… wow.”

Sam keeps your body close to his, not wanting to let you go just yet.

“You’re welcome. So… about that second date. How do you feel about roller skating?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“I kind of like it. I haven’t skated since I was a kid, though.”

Sam nods. “Dinner and roller skating. Let’s say… Wednesday?”

“Wednesday sounds good,” you smile.

“Okay.”

Sam peppers small kisses on your lips and the corner of your mouth before letting you go. You instantly feel colder.

As he walks to the door, you seat at your desk and power up your computer, ready to start the work day.

“Wait, I need one more,” Sam says.

He rounds your desk and spins your chair so you’ll face him, before giving you another kiss. Once again, he peppers small kisses on your lips and cheeks and this time, you can’t help but giggle.

“It’s not even noon yet and I’m having the best day I’ve had in a while,” he whispers.

“Stop it. You’re gonna make me blush,” you joke.

“Now that would be my greatest achievement.”

Sam leaves shortly after that, leaving you to start working with the same dumb smile from earlier on your lips.

***

Tags: @marvelmaree @ljstraightnochaser @blackmissfrizzle @youdonotghostnickfury @minillamakeup-blog

#maree's29thbirthdaybash #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x black reader

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colorsicantsee · 3 years

Text

Seblaine- Present Day (June/Year1)

Para: All's Well That Ends Well To End Up With You

Rating: PG-13..

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Year One: Present Day- June. About a month after- I Don’t Wanna End It When We’re Only Just Beginning; Part ONE and Part TWO.

Location: Brooklyn, New York

Info: Sebastian knows how lonely Blaine can get when he’s gone so he surprises him with a trip to the Animal Shelter. Blaine makes a new friend and starts to think he might not be giving enough of himself to his wonderful person.

Warnings: This particular para includes- Brief mentions of sexual situations and mentions of past abuse. This rp as a whole mentions past abuse(Physical, mental and sexual), possible unwanted sexual situations, anxiety, depression, negative body image, drug use, alcohol use, cussing, death(parents).

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Title taken from-Taylor Swift- Lover

NOTES: Some canon events remain in place while others have been changed. Some things may even be out of order. You can consider this sort of canon divergent AU. A few changes are that Blaine’s parents are different from the show (His mother is Filipina), he didn’t cheat on Kurt or date Dave and Sebastian is younger than Blaine. Feel free to send a message if you have any questions!

Under Cut for length. As usual the para’s are mostly unedited.

Sebastian’s POV:

Things had been okay. Sebastian was getting his school work done and hadn’t touched alcohol in months. Blaine was going to work and therapy sessions regularly. The two of them had been comfortable and open with each other and things were just...calm. Calm was a feeling that Seb hadn’t known for a long time. Even when he was a teenager and spent his days hanging off of Blaine’s words and soft touches, his emotions felt so dizzy and intense. Calm was nice, it was welcome and not something he had known he craved for years.

Though Seb felt some sort of small slice of peace, he wondered if B felt the same way. Of course he knew that his boyfriend was happy and satisfied with their relationship and the way things were going. He knew that Blaine was, to be cliché, fighting an uphill battle mentally. The other man had been through a lot in his young life and Sebastian accepted that. He understood that some things took time to fix and it wasn’t his sole responsibility to stitch up B’s sadness. That didn’t mean he couldn’t help, couldn’t hand the other man the tools.

Sebastian wasn’t sure where the idea had come from. Maybe he had heard Sarah McLachlan croon from an elevator speaker, maybe it was the grey, grumpy cat that hung around the chip aisle at his local bodega. But, it had popped in Seb’s head that maybe Blaine might benefit from a pet. He had personally never had one, but he had always wanted a dog. He didn’t think he could ever take care of anything but he knew that B would be a natural.

Seb picked up the phone and shot the other man a quick text. He had made an appointment at the animal shelter nearest Blaine’s place; This Saturday I have a surprise for you.

The day arrived and Sebastian wouldn’t give in to any of Blaine’s questions or distracting bribery techniques.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

They had arrived at the large brick building and he watched his boyfriend’s face as he figured out where they were.

“Before you say anything, I’m paying all of the fees. I’ll take care of the pet rent, too. I also wanna get everything else you need for you new pet”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine felt good. If someone had told him a month ago that he’d feel this good after having one of his worst, irrational panic attacks he’d have mirthlessly laughed in their face. Yet here he was, feeling the best he’d felt in a long time. It was almost alarming. A big part of him was so scared that it was all going to go to shit at any second now, that he’d fall apart and panic over nothing once more and he’d have to beg Seb to help him calm down with reassurances that he already had to begin with. He hated those thoughts, hated that a big part of him still couldn't grasp that he deserved this happiness and that nothing was going to take it away.

On the other hand there was another part of him that knew he deserved it, knew that things were finally falling into place for him and that he was finally living the kind of life he thought he’d be living when he was a teen. Sure, he still hadn’t ventured out to Sebastian’s apartment in Manhattan yet and a few of his classes were still online, and he was still overworking himself to make up for his guilt over taking Cooper’s money afraid that his big brother might think he was slacking off or didn’t appreciate the loan- even though once he turned twenty-five his parents trust would come through and he’d be okay. Still, he was happy and he wanted to cling to the good feelings and hold them close to his chest in case he ever forgot or to remind him when he had bad days.

He’d been taking his medicine as he should. And even though there was nothing wrong with it he had stopped drinking wine with his meals. He wanted to encourage Sebastian and he’d noticed a difference in how he felt when he woke up in the morning. No more dull headaches or shame over what he might have said while tipsy. He’d been meeting up with his friends more- Sam and David were both surprised when he’d reach out to them to invite them to lunch or even just video games in his apartment. He hadn’t realized how much he was actually neglecting them and it took feeling better to see his errors.

He’d even been trying to call Cooper regularly though his brother was always suspicious when he did so. And of course he’d been spending time with Sebastian. It was like the two of them had just fallen into place with each other, like they just fit and should have always been this way. And as cheesy as it sounded, Blaine was no stranger to cheesy, they just felt meant to be. And that made Blaine feel all the more happy.

His happiness was edged with nerves and excitement as he sat in Sebastian’s passenger seat and his boyfriend drove them to his surprise. Seb rarely drove, but he had picked him up and had been mum about what they might be doing. Blaine had even pressed a playful kiss to Seb’s favorite spot in his neck to try and get an answer, but all that did was get a wicked grin and a promise for maybe later. Blaine settled for holding Seb’s hand and trying not to let his brain overwork itself with what it might be. As they pulled up to a big red bricked building with the worlds Animal Rescue in big white letters across the side, Blaine’s heart did a flip as well as his stomach. He turned to look at Seb who had prepared an argument.

“Seb, that’s too much money! I can’t take that!” But once Seb had his mind made up there really was no changing it. He took a deep breath and let his boyfriend lead him into the building, the sounds of dogs barking echoing off the walls and into his ears. Blaine had always wanted a pet growing up, he’d had a puppy when he was very young, but his father proved to be allergic and he was such a busy kid he found it hard to be there for his canine friend. He still remembered his sniffles as his mom and him dove away after dropping him off at his new home. Sure, Blaine was still just as busy, but he had his own space now, and the thought of having something to come home to instead of an empty, lonely apartment sounded wonderful. Sebastian couldn’t just live there.

He was nervous as the person whose name tag read Matthew showed them around and explained how adoption worked. And when they asked Blaine if he’d like to see the dogs or cats first Blaine surprised himself by asking for the cats.

“I’d like to see the cats, if that’s alright?” Matthew smiled and led the two of them into a room where about a dozen cats were free to roam. It was a playroom of sorts, set up to look like trees and leaves. He’d never really seen a place like this before, most of the cats were sad looking and locked up in cages. He found out soon enough that all of the cats in here were kittens and it was better to let them roam and play together. Blaine sat down in one of the chairs so as not to scare them away but was a little overwhelmed by all the darting fluff and every time he’d settle on one, they’d run away in a blur of white or grey or orange and flip themselves onto one of their playmates. He was just about to ask to see the adult cats when he felt tiny paws on cheek. He looked up and was met with a pair of too large orange eyes in the tiniest black furred body. The little thing was batting at his cheek as if saying- hey, hey I’m here, look at me! It was so small and tucked into one of the little fake leaves that stuck out from the wall, that Blaine had completely missed it at first glance.

“Hey there little one.” Blaine said softly, and reached out to gently pull it into his arms. The kitten instantly stuck his face into Blaine’s and nuzzled against him before batting at one of his curls. Matthew spoke up- “That’s Soot, she’s about six months old, yes, I know she looks so much younger. But, she was born here. She’s been adopted twice and both times she was brought back. It’s a shame. The first person said it was because her child had accidentally stepped on her because she was too small, and the second one said that his girlfriend didn’t want a black cat because they were “bad luck” and feared if she got out she’d be sacrificed or something. She’s naturally tiny and no one seems to want her. If you ask me they just weren't the right fit for her, and their loss because Soot is the sweetest kitten here. And I think she likes you.”

No one wants her? Blaine’s heart squeezed at the thought of someone hurting this sweet little thing and he had to blink back a swell of emotion as she lifted her head and stuck her nose against his lips as if to kiss him! Her head bobbing like she was drunk. She was probably just smelling him but it almost broke his heart in two and he knew that he wouldn't be leaving without her. She had already snuggled into the crook of his arm and was purring so softly, the vibrations tickling Blaine’s arm. The sensation instantly calmed him. He was half in love already. And even though he was worried about taking Seb’s money he looked up at his boyfriend pleadingly, the words getting stuck in his throat, his eyes bright. His voice was shaky and his emotional display would have embarrassed him if he were really thinking about it, but all he could think about was her cold little paws pressed against his arm, her tiny claws kneading him slightly.

“I-I do. I mean, I want her. Please, Seb?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Seb had had a feeling that Blaine was going to visit the room where the cats and kittens were kept. From what he understood, cats were pretty low maintenance and despite what people might say, could form loyal bonds with their owners. Plus, B wouldn’t have to take a cat down the many flights of stairs to go outside at random hours of the day. A cat could watch itself while he worked and went to school and even if he ever spent the night at Sebastian’s.

Blaine’s eyes lit up when they walked into the room covered in acrobatic leaves and man made branches for the cats to climb and lounge on. Sebastian crouched on the floor next to where his boyfriend sat and observed the tiny creatures wrestle and bathe themselves. The older cats that were awake in the cages meowed and pressed their wet noses against the bars trying to get Matthew’s attention. They were probably looking for some new food, he thought to himself.

He hadn’t even caught the moment that the little black ball of fur ended up in his boyfriend’s arms. It seemed as if the two of them had known each other for years, the little thing was emitting little trills of pleasure as it worked its claws into his sleeve. B’s eyes were glossy when the attendant mentioned that Soot had been returned a few times. Sebastian bit his lip and knew that this was the one.

“Of course. This is the whole reason we came.” He smiled at his boyfriend and reached over so the kitten could sniff his fingers. Sebastian looked up at Matthew, “Where do we fill out the papers and pay the fees? She’s ours.”

Soot was loaded into a cardboard box with little holes poked in the side. She didn’t like it and kept poking her black nose through and basically screaming at them to let her out. Blaine filled out all of the paper work with giddy energy and Sebastian handed over his card for them to swipe. He hadn’t been worried about how much it would be but she was surprisingly cheap since she had been brought back a couple times.

Sebastian wrapped an arm around Blaine as he clutched the noisy box in his arms. He sat in the passenger seat smiling as he gently held onto his new pet’s carrier. They drove around for a few minutes before they found a pet store.

“Don’t be shy in here. There’s no limit.”

Blaine blushed and began to protest.

“You need litter, a cat box. Food, she obviously needs some toys, too. Don’t forget about a water dish.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s heart fluttered against his ribcage, a feeling he couldn’t quite place fell over him when he heard Sebastian say ‘She’s ours’. She was theirs now. They had done something big together. He let out a little laugh and fought the urge to pull Seb into a thank you kiss right in front of Matthew. He nodded, barely believing that he was actually going to get to take a living creature home with him and as he signed the paperwork and Sebastian paid he felt even happier than he had when the day started and that was saying something considering he didn’t think he could feel any happier. Instead of something terrible throwing a wrench into his joy he’d been gifted the most adorable thing.

Blaine settled back against Sebastian’s comforting arm as his boyfriend drove away so they could shop for her. She sat on his lap in her little cardboard crate, screaming for attention and slipping her tiny little paw out through the holes before shoving her nose through it. She did this over and over again. Blaine pet her nose and her paws to calm her, but didn’t let her out for fear that she’d get lost in the car. He was so excited, he couldn’t wait to share his apartment with her. Wondered if she’d like his music, or if she would sit in the window and stalk birds, wondered if she’d cuddle up on his pillow as he slept. He realized then that the thought of Sebastian having to go home and leave him alone for the night later on wasn’t as hard to stomach as it had been the day before. Of course he hated that part. When Seb couldn’t stay because of early classes or whatnot. He wanted his boyfriend there all the time, he felt safer and more whole, had gotten used to letting Seb’s arms be around him, letting his hands touch him without tensing up and he loved it, but maybe, just maybe, with Soot in the picture he wouldn’t stay up too late wishing he wasn’t alone. Maybe she’d help take the edge off his nighttime loneliness away.

The store welcomed animals so he was able to put her little crate into the cart Seb had gotten for him and he was thankful, couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her out in the car. He was still nervous about the cost, animals were not cheap and he was on his own now, Cooper’s year of “free” rent was pretty much up and almost all of his extra money went into his apartment and food. He knew he was lucky, most college kids had to stay in dorms or be extremely well off to make it like this. But when Cooper had helped get him out of his horrible situation with Kurt, a dorm wasn’t an option. They both knew Blaine couldn’t handle all of those people around him, couldn’t handle a stranger in his room. His severe anxiety wouldn’t let him. Maybe luck wasn’t the right word actually considering, but either way, Blaine got to live alone and that money added up. He hadn't gotten a pet in the first place despite desperately wanting company that couldn’t hurt him over the last year and a half because he couldn’t afford it. It was like Seb had read his mind, finding thoughts that Blaine himself didn’t really think of often.

“Seb, this is all going to add up. Are you sure?” Seb was sure and Blaine had to really look at him before he let himself put anything in the cart. He meant what he said. He’d help. And Blaine would find a way to come up with vet money so he could get her fixed, he’d find a way. Even though he had a feeling Sebastian would try and help with that too. Over the next half hour he and Seb had managed to get her about twelve new toys ranging from mice to a wand with a fish on the end to a scratching post with a fuzzy heart hanging off of it. She had a giant bag of food meant for kittens under a year old, a food bowl, water dish, litter box, and a little red collar with a bell so small Blaine was sure he’d never hear it. The total was too much, and Blaine instantly felt like a bad cat dad because he wouldn’t have been able to afford that if he were doing this on his own. But when he voiced it Seb shook his head and reminded him that this was a present.

On the way back to his apartment Blaine made the appropriate call to inform his landlord that he’d gotten a cat and that he’d bring in the money first thing. He tried not to cringe when he was told the deposit price. It’s a gift, Blaine. Let him do this for you. He made it through the call without much resistance, the landlord seemed hesitant at first, but since they didn’t have a no pet policy she had no choice but to let him do it. The two of them set up the little apartment before letting the little lady out of her crate and Blaine made sure the bathroom door was shut so she couldn’t go hide there. He wished he had a door to his bedroom, but it was so small there weren’t many places she could go. She let him put her new collar on without struggle, pressed her forehead against his cheek and squirmed to be let down. She sniffed around the room, and made her way across the small apartment, poking her nose in everything before settling on her food, took a bite, then a drink and then promptly darted across the living room floor and dived right into the scratching post and busied herself playing with the fuzzy heart hanging off of it. He couldn’t help but laugh from his spot on the couch. They were quiet for a moment as they watched her play.

“I think I’ll keep the name. I mean look at her, she looks like a soot spot against the wood floor. It’s pretty perfect.” He paused, his eyes glued to her little body. She was playing so hard, it was like she hardly noticed she had been taken to a completely new place. She seemed at home, and when Blaine clicked his tongue against his teeth and said her name softly in a high voice, she actually came over to him and rubbed her scent all over his hand and leg, she went and did the same to Sebastian before once again darting and diving. This time at once of the little mice. She flipped onto her back and she rabbit kicked it before doing it all again, her micro bell tinkling as she moved. Guess he could hear it after all.

Blaine was fucking obsessed.

“God, I can’t believe no one wanted her. “ He finally turned his gaze to Seb and reached out to take his hand, linking their fingers together. He scooted so he was close to him, his hand sliding up to his chin to bring his face down to his before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He did it again, his own lips slipping into a small, bright smile.

“Thank you. You have no idea how happy this has made me. I-I didn’t think… well, I didn’t know I needed this. I still feel like it’s too much money… But, I’m gonna accept it, she’s perfect.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian helped Blaine unpack all of Soot’s new toys. He helped set up the cat box and insisted on pouring the litter even though he had never done it before. I mean, how hard could it be? A giant puff of grey dust surprised him and made him cough and flail a little bit. The scene had made Blaine laugh, though and that had made the mess worth it.

Soot seemed to fall into an easy playful mode immediately. She looked like she had always belonged in the apartment. The two of them watched her, laughing at her ridiculous belly flops and wobbly jumps.

“I think the name is perfect. She’s like a little smudge.” Sebastian pressed in closer to Blaine’s side. He could not only see his boyfriend’s happiness but he could feel it radiate off of him. Sebastian felt pleased. B now had a little companion to warm the lonely nights he had to be away, to hold on to when he felt upset.

Blaine never had to come home to an empty apartment again. Seb thought that that sounded great, his own empty apartment felt cold and haunted at times. Not literally, of course (he’d fucking move.) but by the past. The stench of vodka would sweep by him when he felt bored. Sometimes his sheets didn’t feel clean enough, seemed matted with bad nights and past lovers. He was thankful that Blaine didn’t have to experience that, that he could walk into the tinkle of a little jingle bell and the flash of orange eyes looking for their food bowl to be filled.

Sebastian shook his thoughts away and focused on the kitten again. “I’m glad. You guys are a perfect match.” He pressed into the kiss, he could feel Blaine’s smile against his lips. Sebastian loved that feeling.

“You’re welcome.” He wanted to insist that the money didn’t matter but didn’t want to come across as braggy. Sebastian found that his careless feelings about spending offended some people. He used to not care, would swipe his card with a smirk and casually mention his big purchases. Seb had grown so fucking annoyed by himself after he started getting cleaned up. He had become better and knew that B spent a lot of time worrying about money. Sebastian found it better to just let that part of the conversation go. “Always glad to help. I wanted to do this.”

“Do you think she’ll tucker herself out soon?”

Blaine’s POV:

“You wanted to make me the happiest man ever? God, you’re so good to me, I really don’ t know that I deserve it.” He smiled up at Seb after their shared kisses, relishing in the simplicity of the moment. He wondered if Sebastian ever thought of getting a pet himself, he wondered how big his apartment was. Sure, it was New York, but as he knew, Seb had money and his parents never taught him to shy away from it. Did his home ever get lonely too? Blaine had never even been there before. Had a hard time imagining himself there, letting himself be touched or kissed there, or undressed and bare. Because it wasn’t a space of comfort that he’d built himself. And spending too much time in Manhattan was difficult for Blaine to think about, sure, he knew how to avoid Kurt, knew his spots, knew Rachel’s spots. He’d known how to avoid Seb for three years before this too. But there were so many memories attached to the place, bad ones. Spots where Kurt would drag him and then humiliate him. So many places to avoid. It was also the place where you and Seb reconnected, he reminded himself. You managed to go to that Warbler party, you could totally go to his apartment.

God, everything with them really had happened just so fast. Both times they’d been together and Blaine knew, without a shadow of doubt that Sebastian was the only person he’d ever want to touch him again. He still tensed up sometimes, still loved that Seb showed his hands before reaching for him even though they’d done so much together, it helped him. He still got nervous before intimate moments. They’d had sex a couple more times since he’d panicked and he loved every minute together. He trusted Sebastian and only Sebastian with his body and even more, his mind. He knew that he always had trusted him and maybe that meant that he could trust himself to be intimate in a new place. Sebastian’s space. The man had just given Blaine an incredible gift that he otherwise couldn’t afford and had uprooted himself to spend all of his free time over here, in a shitty small Brooklyn apartment in a shitty neighborhood. Blaine felt he needed to give him more. Why was the thought so hard?

He looked over at the kitten, Soot was still hopping around, her little paws making the daintiest sounds on his scuffed wood floors as she jumped and landed on her feet. Little Soot showed no sign of stopping, but then again, from what he knew about cats and the countless animal videos he’d watched over the years to cheer himself up the creatures seemed to play hard and then promptly pass out like a loaf of bread.

“I don’t know, she’s going pretty hard though.” He reached out and grabbed the stick with the fish on the end and she instantly started to chase it. She grew bored when Blaine wasn’t fast enough on wiggling the string and pounced over to a new mouse, and as the two of them laughed at her, she visibly started to slow and then she sat down on her tummy, hiding the mouse under her little body and then she tucked her paws under her chest like they were cold, then her eyes started to close and she was purring loudly as she fell asleep, her head pressed into the scratching post mat.

“Well, I guess there’s your answer… I mean, could you imagine falling asleep that fast? And we’ll never be that fucking comfortable.” Blaine chuckled, looking back up at Seb in amazement, his smile so big his cheeks kind of hurt from the happiness.

And there it was- the tiniest bit of clean litter dust clinging to Sebastian’s cheek and it reminded Blaine of the snowflake that had clung to Seb’s cheek that nerve wracking, miserably bittersweet New Year’s Eve night on a Manhattan rooftop, six short months ago. The night that had set this whole relationship back into motion. The night that un-paused their story and dusted off their beautiful and imperfectly perfect book cover and set them back on their path. He sometimes wondered what would have happened if he didn’t accept, how bad off would he be now? He took a deep breath and reached out to brush his thumb over the spot. His skin tingling as he brushed it away. It wasn’t as pretty as a snowflake, but the way it had gotten there had made him laugh and he wanted to hold onto this moment just as close as the snowflake moment. That night could have ended them in further disaster, but Blaine had taken a chance because Seb had done the same and had reached out.

They had come so far since that night and yet it felt like they’d always been here. The four years they spent apart were the worst ones of Blaine’s life, and while it wasn’t just because they were apart, there were many factors, but not being together was a big one. A mistake that had cost them greatly. As he leaned against his boyfriend now, in this moment, he knew that he’d made the right choice in accepting Seb’s invitation after that night. He bit his bottom lip, his smile taking him out of his what- could- have- happened memories and putting him back in the now because Seb was here and there present day choice had gotten them this far. The ‘what ifs’ didn’t matter anymore.

“You had cat litter stuck to your cheek.” He tried to laugh but his voice came out a bit breathy. “I know you can’t stay tonight, and I’m okay with that, I’ll have great company and it’ll feel a little better here. But, you don’ t have to leave just yet do you?” He felt selfish even asking, he knew Seb had a lot of studying to do and that he studied better in his own place without distraction. “I mean, just for a few more hours? We don’t have to do anything big. We could just hang out? I can make us dinner and we could watch one of your trashy shows you love so much. Just for two hours even, maybe by then she’ll be awake and I'll have some entertainment.” He tried to keep his tone teasing, but Seb had done so much for him today and he didn’t want him to go yet. So he laughed and then swallowed, working himself up for his next question.

“And maybe soon, um, like in the next month or so I could, well, maybe spend the weekend at your place? I could make you your first home cooked meal in your actual house. You could show me your favorite spots around your part of town, I mean, we’re always here. Your place is just as important as mine.” He gave a smile showing he meant it, his thumb tracing over Seb’s long fingers in a comforting rhythm to the sounds of his cat's sweet purrs. It may have seemed a simple request, but it was a big deal for him and Seb knew that because Blaine had never asked to go before, and Seb had never asked him there either. They both knew it would be a task creating a new comfort space for Blaine to be in and for Seb to share his life. But their relationship was more than this apartment and this part of New York, it was everywhere and Blaine wanted to show that.

It was out there now and he found he didn’t want to take it back.

Sebastian’s POV:

“I wish I could just imagine what it felt like to fall asleep that fast.” Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and watched the peaceful scene. “Your floor is a mess. I guess you better get used to it. There’s probably no need in picking it up, right? It’s really taking a lot for me to just...not start picking all of those mice up.” He laughed, “maybe we should get a tote or something for all of this crap.”

Sebastian could sense the change in Blaine’s honied eyes. He thumb brushed against his cheek, reminiscent of a snowy New Year’s Eve. He would have felt mortified for having fucking cat litter on his face if it weren’t for the look on the other man’s face. Blaine looked hopeful and was looking at Seb like he was the most perfect thing his eyes had ever fallen upon. Normally he’d say something sarcastic or witty but no words fell from his usually silver tongue. God, Blaine could make him feel so much better with just a glance of those damn eyes, the color of dead leaves, chrysanthemums, and sun tea. Seb swallowed the lump in his throat and tried for a sly smile, but instead his just for B grin spread across his face. “Of course. We can do whatever you want.” He cleared his throat, “Umm. I can make a pot of coffee when I get back and dig into my schoolwork.”

He was a little taken off guard when Blaine mentioned visiting his place. Sebastian could swear that Blaine could see his thoughts painted across his forehead or something. Maybe it just came with knowing somebody for so long or maybe Sebastian didn’t have as good of a poker face as he thought.

“We can do that. There’s no rush.” Sebastian laced his fingers with his boyfriend’s. “But, what will we ever do without Ms. Katy Perry watching over us like our very own gay Goddess?” He laughed and pointed at the candy colored poster on Blaine’s wall. “I don’t own anything quite that colorful. Just imagine like...an updated version of the apartment in American Psycho. God, that’s a terrible description isn’t it? But, my father did hand pick it after all so I suppose it’s on brand.” He took a breath,” all jokes aside, I’d love that. Now, what were you planning on making for dinner? I’d ask if you need my help but we both Know I would start a fire or cut my finger off or something.”

Blaine’s POV:

“It’s alright, Seb.” He shook his head and gently squeezed his boyfriend's hand. “I promise at bedtime I’ll pick all the toys up. I think I have a small container up in my closet that I can use until I can get something better. And the next time you’re here they won't be spread out like that, I just wanted to give her options for her first day here.” Of course Seb was worried about the little tornado of toys around his miniature apartment. Adorable.

Blaine noted the way Sebastian cleared his throat, his voice a little wobbly and emotional as he told him they could do whatever he wanted and he wondered if it was because he was thinking about the night they reconnected too. Seb was looking at him adoringly with his big grin, the one that only Blaine really got to see, and big green blue eyes that told him he’d done something right. He looked up at his boyfriend, and gave him a relieved smile as Seb relented and said he’d stay. He wanted nothing more than for Seb to always look at him that way. It wasn’t something he was used to, maybe years ago, but now, he had the chance again and he wasn’t going to let it drift away. And maybe wanting him to stay was selfish, but Blaine was never selfish and today he wanted to be.

“You’re right, what will we do?” He teased as he thought over what he had to cook in his small refrigerator. He laughed over the American Psycho quip because of course Seb’s house was sophisticated and plain. “I guess I’ll just have to decorate your house up with various pop stars, won’t I? I’ll make sure there’s an extra pop of fluorescent pink just for you. I’ll make sure your fairy lights are a delightful shade of purple. You can pay me back by keeping your axes in your car for the night.” He paused, giggling at their jokes before pressing another kiss to Seb’s lips. “I’d really love to be there, too. Let me go see what I can put together.”

Blaine didn’t have much, but he had ground turkey, pasta and cheese, red pepper flakes and some bread from the deli so he put together a simple spaghetti and meat sauce with a little bit of a kick and made his own garlic bread. Over the next three hours they sipped on coffee and iced water and watched one of Seb’s terrible reality shows while Soot snoozed away, exhausted from her busy day. And after the dishes were cleared and they were settled back on the couch they kissed and giggled and messed around a little bit. They didn’t get too serious, but their lips were swollen by the end of the night and Seb let Blaine put his hands all over him- teasing and touching until Blaine was sure Seb went home for the night completely satisfied.

After he’d gone, Blaine sent Sebastian a photo of all Soot’s toys cleaned up and tucked under the little coffee table so she could get them out when she wanted; See, all clean! To which Seb sent a photo back of his homework spread out in front of him, yet another cup of coffee just visible in the frame; Yes, looks so much better! And a bit later, in bed, right before falling asleep, Blaine sent Seb a photo of Soot curled up next to him against the wall by his head. Blaine angled it to show the empty space where Seb was absent; The only thing missing is you. <3. A bit later, Seb sent one of himself back, lying in bed, his chest exposed, with a little grin on his face. The spot next to him empty; Ditto. Your spot is waiting.

And then they fell asleep with declarations of I love you’s and wishes of goodnight’s from both of them.

/fin.

#Para: All's Well That Ends Well #Seblaine #twoblueheartslocked #colorsicantsee #para #seblaine canon divergence

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huntertales · 4 years

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Part Three: You Are What You Eat. (Dog Dean Afternoon S09E05)

Episode Summary: While investigating two bizarre murders, Y/N and the boys realize there is an eyewitness to both gruesome deaths–a German Shepard. Anxious to find out what monsters they are dealing with, the three look up a spell that can help communicate with the dog. When Dean decides to be the one to perform the spell, he quickly realizes it comes with side effects no one saw coming. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Mentions of blood. Word Count: 4,647.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“So, what can you tell me about the man with the cowboy hat?”

You had to be honest, at the beginning of this plan you were excited for the chance to go around each kennel so Dean could personally speak to the dogs and get a potential eyewitness of what happened the previous night. Your enthusiasm slowly trickled away when you realized how this was turning out to be a complete waste of time. All though you could only hear one side of the conversation, the homeless pups were turning out to be less helpful than the Colonel had been for you. You watched from the other side of the shelter as Dean questioned another dog that looked almost to be the exact same breed as the famous Lassie. However she wasn’t capable of much of anything due to her fleeting eyesight due to her old age. Dean listened anyway.

“Honestly, I couldn’t see much. Damn cataracts. And you know no one is going to pay for my surgery. Just another casualty of the system, I guess.” The dog followed up her story with a complaint about how her final days would be spent in a cage. Dean offered a sympathetic smile from the lonely end she was most likely going to face. Almost no one adopts older dogs. The man felt it was time to cut the conversation short when she tried to guilt him into taking her home. “I don’t belong here, you know. I’m Pedigreed.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be out of here soon.” Dean tried to offer some hopeful words to the dog that better days were ahead for her. She shot him down when she told him her age of fourteen. In human years she was in her seventies. She didn’t have much time left on this Earth. He winced at the awkward situation he put himself in. “Good luck…ma’am.”

Dean shut the cage and placed the latch back down so she couldn’t try and escape. As he passed by a labrador, he overheard the rough conditions they were living in. “One a day they clean these cages. Once a day!”

“A biscuit. Just one biscuit.”

“I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer.”

“I’m shaking the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence.”

Dean wasn't sure what to expect when he took the spell that would make him be able to communicate with the Colonel. He didn't think it was going to lead him into being able to speak to every single animal that would end up in him getting mocked by a pigeon and hearing the complaints from the dogs living in the shelter. He let out a quiet sigh from how overwhelming it was to hear all their voices ringing in his head for different reasons that all varied out to the same reason. They wanted to get his attention for a chance at going home with him. You gave him a curious expression as he approached you and Sam after trying to speak to another dog.

“Any luck?” Sam asked his brother, hopeful for some kind of breakthrough.

“Hardly.” Dean admitted. “And I’m not just getting any clues—just a bunch of complaints.”

“Hey, pretty boy.” The older Winchester might have spoken too soon when he heard another voice pop up into his head, making him look over his shoulder to see who was speaking to him. A small yorkie jumped on his hind legs and leaned himself against the fence to try and get the hunter’s attention. “Over here.”

“Yeah, sorry, pal.” Dean said, shrugging off the dog for whatever excuse he was about to try and throw his way to get him over there and chat his ear off. The man thought he already knew what was going to happen if he wasted more time on yet another dog. “I’m done for the day.”

“But I saw everything!” The dog shouted, saying exactly what the hunter wanted to hear. It was enough for Dean to make his way over the kennel. You and Sam followed behind, figuring this was the lead all of you had been looking for. “And I’ll tell you, but…it’ll cost you.”

“What? Are you kidding me? I’m being extorted by a dog.” The older Winchester scoffed at the sudden shift of the conversation. No one else had given him much help. This was the only major lead you had going for you. Dean rolled his eyes and unwillingly gave in to listening to whatever the dog might try and bribe out of him. “Well, what do you want, huh? What? Beggin’ Strips? Snausages?”

“Bitch, please. If I’m gonna rat someone out, it’s got to be worth my while. I want…a belly rub.” The dog gave his final demands to make him speak. Dean once again rolled his eyes at the presumption that it was going to be him who was going to be forced to do the deed. However the yorkie wouldn’t let just anyone come near him. “Not you, sweetie. The short one.”

“The...Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath when he turned his direction to the short person he was talking about. You were standing next to him, wondering what was making him grow annoyed now. “He wants a belly rub. From you.” Dean informed you of the pooch’s request. You felt your lips stretch into a happy smile. As if this hunt couldn’t get any better. “Get to it. You’re like some kind of dog whisperer.”

You pushed up the latch to the cage and opened up the metal door to greet the yorkie with a big smile at how happy he was from the way his tail was wagging. “Hi there, cutie. You wanna belly rub, huh? Come here.”

The dog wanted his end of the bargain before giving any sort of information about that night to Dean. You started off enjoying giving the pooch what he wanted. He was cradled in your arms like a baby as you scratched his stomach like he requested. His tongue poked out from the side of his mouth as he panted in enjoyment from the rare affection he was being given after spending most hours locked in the small confidments. The human side of Dean was growing annoyed at how much this mutt was trying to milk this bribe for his own benefit. And the canine side of him was growing territorial at how much you were giving someone else affection.

“Ohh, a cowboy hat, leather pants.” The dog managed to give a basic description of the man of what he was wearing on the night of the murder, occasionally breaking his concentration from the bellyrub long enough to do so. “The dude's a total closet case.”

“Okay, what else can you tell me about the guy other than his outfit?” Dean pressed for more, knowing that it was useless to the three of you.

“What does he want with the cats?” Dean asked.

“Ooh, attagirl, yes.” The dog was once again delayed on responding to the question, too caught up in the euphoric feeling. “Hell if I know. But he took all of them, except for the one he ate.”

“Ew.” Dean mumbled to himself from the twist he wasn’t expecting to come from the story. You momentarily stopped scratching the dog to hear what made the man reaction that way. It was for a reason you never would have guessed "Apparently, our guy has a sweet tooth for kitty cats."

You felt your lips stretching into a childlike smile from the information, feeling the need to crack a joke. “So you’re saying he likes to eat p—”

"Keep scratching." Dean told you, cutting you off from making a distasteful joke.

"Oh. Oh, and the sack had something written on it." The yorkie added, giving some information that might help make it easier to track down the man.

"Okay, what did it say?" Dean asked. The dog decided at that moment to go silent. He went limp in your arms as he let out a yawn, acting as if it was Dean who was wasting his time. "Hey, come on. We had a deal."

“Well, you tell that to your friend.” The dog said “She’s the one who stopped rubbing.”

You rolled your eyes when Dean tossed you a look to keep going with the deal he made with the dog. You could only do this for so long before you complained of a hand cramp. Not to mention he was starting to make your arm grow numb for holding him in the same position for a long period of time. Dean didn’t seem to care for your complaints.

“He’s not talking.” The older Winchester said.

“I’m sorry, do you want to do it?” You asked him, nodding your head to the needy dog.

“You’re the one who volunteered.” Dean reminded you. “Very happily.”

You let out a quiet sigh and continued on with your end of the deal. The dog’s tongue poked out of his mouth in happiness.“Attagirl. It said ‘Avant-Garde Cuisine.’” He continued on. “Lucky for you, I read French.”

“That's a café on Main Street.” The Colonel said, jumping into the conversation to lend a helping paw. “No dogs allowed.”

“Well, no wonder he smelled like hamburgers and dish soap.” Dean mumbled, seeming to be still talking amongst the dogs. You raised your brow slightly, wondering if he found a possible lead afterall. “We got to go downtown. Apparently our guy works at a restaurant.”

Dean nodded his head to put the yorkie back into his cage after getting the information you needed from him. “No, no, wait, wait, wait. Sure you don't want to adopt me?”

“No, thanks.” The older man shot down the offer with a smile. “We'll pass.”

You bent down to grab the Colonel’s lesh with your good hand as you tried to stop the cramping in the other. While the little yorkie was a pain, you had to admit it was sort of fun spending some time with the pooch. Even if he was a pain.

“It’s kind of sad, don’t you think?” You wondered out loud, looking around at the kennels filled with dogs you would have loved to adopt. Sadly not all of them might get a chance. “All these poor things might never get a proper home. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life in a cage.”

Dean found himself reflecting on what you said for a moment. He didn’t like dogs. Hell, he wasn’t the one for pets. But being able to hear their thoughts and struggles they faced, spending some time walking in their point of view, gave him a better perspective. Every creature, human or animal, deserved a loving home. He felt his lips stretch into a smile from what he was about to do. He knew it would make you happy. Maybe this spell wasn’t such a curse after all.

You and Sam were left baffled at what the man was doing when he went to every kennel and opened up the cage doors to let the dogs free. A scurry of four legged animals went running past you and straight out the door. You might not have been able to hear the excitement of their freedom, but you could tell from how they raced out of here. Dean was pleased with himself at the little act of kindness.

“I didn't peg you for a softy.” The Colonel said.

Dean merely shrugged his shoulders as his response for the German Shepherd. There were a lot of things that were out of character for him today. He spent his entire life saving humans. It felt like a good change of pace to lend a helping hand to man's best friend for a change.

+ + +

It wasn't too hard for you and the boys to track down the restaurant of the crazy lunatic who murdered two people and catnapped all of the shelter's felines for reasons you still weren't sure of. Sam was the one who picked the lock of the back door and headed inside first, you and Dean following after. You wondered the reason why the place was closed when you were still in the early evening, it should have been booming with business. A closed sign wasn’t going to stop you and the boys from breaking into the place and taking a look around for yourself. It was going to be easier knowing there would be no lingering eyes to disrupt you.

"I'm sorry. Who can afford to be closed on a Monday these days?" Dean wondered out loud.

“Homicidal maniac?” You guessed.

Sam brought your attention over to a door that was marked private. after passing a few unmarked ones. All of you stepped inside and began taking a look around through the scope of the small flashlight you pulled out. You noticed it must’ve been extra storage for the restaurant from the walk-in freezer you spotted across the room and shelves filled with different canned goods and spices and doubled as an office space for the staff. The younger Winchester approached a desk that was near the door and spotted a framed photograph of a man that was dressed in a chef's uniform with a cowboy hat as an accessory. He smiled for the camera while sharpening a knife. It was oddy suspicious at first glance, but it didn't exactly scream psycho killer to you.

"Check this out." Sam said. He pulled your attention away from exploring more of the room and to the picture he found. You furrowed your brow slightly at the potential suspect you might have. "Chef Leo. Think he's our guy?"

Dean shrugged at the coincidence, "It's Okie town. Lots of dudes wear cowboy hats."

Sam decided to stick around the desk when he pulled up a chair and began rifling through some papers and drawers to see if he might be able to find anything suspicious about this Chef Leo. Dean continued on walking through the place as you stuck around to help Sam to cut down the process faster. You flipped through a folder full of important documents for the restaurant that ended up being meaningless to you and dropped them back down where you found them. You pulled out one of the drawers out of curiosity and stumbled upon a little pharmacy Chef Leo had kept for himself.

“Whoa.” You mumbled to yourself. You counted at least eight prescription bottles in the drawer that were all for him. You bent down slightly to get a better look at the drugs to see what he was taking. "Oxycodone, tramadol, methadone. Jeez. Guess he likes to cook perfectly numb.”

"Help us."

"Please, mister."

Dean found himself stopping in his tracks when he heard the sound of high-pitched voices coming out of nowhere. He looked around to see where they might have come from, but the only people around were still you and Sam, who were busy looking deeper into Chef Leo's desk. He kept on trying to find the source of the voices when they talked to him again, trying to get him to find them.

“Did you hear that?” Dean asked, curious if he was the only one. You glanced up and gave the man a confused look as to what he was talking about. You shook your head before continuing on your search. “Sounded like little kids.”

"Help!" The voice called out again, close enough for Dean to stop again and point his flashlight at a table that was holding something that was hidden behind an apron. "If you don't free us, the chef will eat us."

“She’s not lying.”

“We’re in a cage!”

Dean managed to find the source of the distressed voices when he pulled off the apron and saw a small cage big enough to be holding a few mice that were unhappily crawling around in their mental confidements. He bent down slightly so he was at somewhat eye level with the rodents so he could speak to them properly. "Eat you?"

One of the rats told him to look in the refrigerator behind him to discover what else the chef was hiding. He did as he was told, making Dean stumble upon several tupperware containers stacked on top of one another with labels of unusual ingredients he had a feeling weren't on the menu. You wandered over in curiosity to discover what Dean had found while Sam found something suspicious on his own. You glanced inside the see through door to see the chef was stocked on animal organs of all kinds.

"'Owl brains.' 'Cheetah liver.' 'Grizzly heart.'" Dean listed off just a few of the strange organs that made you grimace as the possible reason why the chef needed these ingredients. And how he managed to acquire such an array of organs for such a diverse palate.

"Ah, a spell book." Sam said. He figured out what kind of book he had been reading through, and why the chef has so many organs on hand. "Shamanism."

"What's a chef doing dabbling with witchcraft?" You asked.

"It says here whatever animal organ you ingest with the right mix of hoo doo and spices, you temporarily gain the power of that animal." Sam read off some information from the book to help explain what was going on here. Your nose wrinkled slightly as you looked back over at the fridge. The thought of ingesting any of those organs made you feel slightly queasy. "So, okay, if you're munching on owl brains..."

“Your head spins around like ‘The Exorcist’?” Dean wondered, deciding to take a wild guess.

"Close. Bolsters your IQ.” Sam said. He turned his attention back over to the book and began to read through the effects of the organs you and his brother discovered. “Okay, eat a cheetah liver for speed, bear heart for strength.”

"Okay, so if he's chowing down on this stuff—”

"Then it would make sense why he constricted the taxidermist and clawed the guy at the shelter." Sam said, finishing his brother's thought.

"Well, no offense," Dean turned his gaze back over to the cage with the mice. They were bottom of the food chain compared to the other animals Chef Leo had on stock. "But why would he want to eat you guys?"

"Uh, we have collapsible spines." The rodent said.

"Look at this." Sam said. He found several index cards with what appeared to be some kind of recipe with the organs the chef harvested. You grabbed a few from the pile to flip through them yourself. "'Lion liver plus eagle heart.' 'Rattlesnake fangs plus anaconda bladder.' 'Baboon brains plus black widow abdomen.' He's mixing ingredients."

“What the hell for?”

Dean’s question went unanswered when the focus in the room went straight for the closed door after hearing what sounded to be metal crashing to the ground. You tossed the cards back to the desk as Sam turned off the small lamp. The rodents were spooked as well from the noise as they began to argue amongst each other.

“Shoo! Quiet!”

"Don't shush me! You be quiet!"

"I am quiet. Now."

You and the boys headed for the door with your guns dawn, unsure of who might be out there. It might have been the chef back for a snack. You followed behind as Dean opened up the door and swiftly stepped outside to the hall, taking a quick glance around before you and his brother joined him. There was no one around the hall you came down, but there were echoes coming from the kitchen. All of you slowly headed there, expecting the man you heard so much about. Instead Dean found himself lowering his gun and hiding it quickly as he could when he spotted an unfamiliar face at work. It took no time at all for the chef to look up from what he was doing and to the three strangers disrupting him.

"Who the hell are you?" The man asked in a slightly frustrated tone of voice. He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting impatiently for your answer.

"We're from the health department." Sam explained to him, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans. "Stopped by for an inspection."

"I wasn't aware we had one scheduled." He said.

"Yeah, no, you wouldn't be. That's the point." Dean replied, continuing off with the lie his brother made up on the spot. "Besides, I thought you were closed."

"We are. Chef's having a private dinner." The man explained to all of you. One of the waiters working tonight pushed open the swinging doors to the dining area and walked in, only to stumble upon the confusing sight that was unraveling. "In fact, he'll be here any minute,"

"Oh. Well, then. In that case, the kitchen's shut down." You declared. The chef's expression dropped at hearing the news. Clearly he demanded answers as to the sudden dramatic information without a proper warning. "Because you're both in clear violation of penal code 8.14. And what's that? Mice. You people have mice. You call yourself fine dining. The only thing people here are getting served is mice droppings."

"Out. Come on. Get out." Dean instructed the two men, waving for the swinging door the waiter came in from. All though they weren't exactly happy about the change in plans, there was little fuss. "Both of you. We'll let you know."

You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the two men inform the guest about the change in plans for the evening. While they didn’t appear to be pleased at the ruined evening, everyone scurried off the property in the matter of seconds. "All right." You directed your gaze back to the older Winchester when he devised a plan. "I'll take the front. You and Sam take the back."

“Do we even know how to kill this guy?” You asked, wondering if you were going into this situation with the wrong weapon. You hoped this wasn't going to be like poking the bear with a stick and getting mauled to death like the other victims.

"Well, empty one of these in his head." Dean suggested, gesturing the gun he pulled back out after the staff left. "See what that does."

You let out a faint sigh as you watched Dean make his way to the front of the restaurant as Sam continued searching through the rest of the kitchen, leaving you alone. This wasn't the first time you were going up against someone with strange abilities and an unsure way of how to take them down. You found yourself turning back on your heels to the hallway you came from when the sound of metal clanking wandered through the air again. You positioned your gun in front of you as you quietly followed the noise from where it came from.

You began making your way down the hallway again to see where the noise was coming from. All though you were cautious and on high alert, when you reached the end of the hallway, something still didn't sit right with you. You learned to trust your gut instinct when it kicked in. And right about now it was telling you something was wrong. You turned around to see that you weren't alone anymore. Chef Leo stood in front of you after appearing out of thin air. Whatever he had taken made him be able to blend into his surroundings and get the jump on you. You had no time to react at all from what he did to you next.

You felt a sudden sharp pain like claws dig into your neck scratching the skin deep enough for you to realize that it wasn't a simple scratch. You pressed your hand to the side of your neck when you felt blood starting to pour out from the wound at a fast rate. The son of a bitch slashed your throat. You had little time to react before you bled to death on the floor. You tried to steady yourself as you made your way down the hall, keeping as much blood in your body as you could. Chef Leo watched on as you struggled to stop yourself from falling down, he found it all amusing in a twisted way.

"Chameleons aren't all that bad.” He said, a hint of humor in his voice. “Kind of tastes like chicken."

You struggled to get your feet moving again when you finally pushed yourself off the wall you had been leaning on. The logical part of your brain was yelling at you to get moving before it was too late. You already lost enough blood from just standing here trying to get your head on straight. There was no way you could scream for help, but you might be able to find Dean if you moved fast enough. You tried to get your vision from going blurry as you managed to take a few steps. With each passing second you felt your body starting to grow weaker as you struggled to breathe on your own.

You dealt with severe blood loss before, you knew the way your body was reacting. You forced yourself to try and keep going, despite your breathing turning heavier and your sight growing weaker with your body. You felt yourself starting to lose consciousness as your fight was slowly dwindling to the end. Right as you were on the edge of death, someone pulled you back from taking the plunge.

Ezekial, the angel who had been hiding himself quietly in your body over the past several weeks, needed you alive. He preferred to keep his meddling to a minimum. Most of the time he was lured out from hiding by Dean due to some situation he put himself in that needed his help. He felt you slowly choking on your own blood from the slashes you endured on your neck. A simple touch to the wound when he took control healed your wound in the matter of seconds before he vanished quickly as he came. You were left gasping for air, and finding it was easy to do so.

You felt something sticky and warm covering the hand that was wrapped tightly around your neck. That was it. No excruciating pain. No gasping for breath. You felt...normal. You quickly felt around the skin for some kind of indication that the slashes on your throat were still there. But there was nothing. Your brows furrowed together in confusion as you turned around to face Chef Leo, who appeared to be perfectly normal. Not a drop of blood was on him. You were covered in your own blood. But not a single scratch was on your body. The man stared at you with bewilderment at what you did in front of him.

“How the hell did you do that?” He questioned you.

“Do what?” You asked him, sounding confused as he was.

"Don't play coy with me." He snapped at you. "I want to know what you are."

"Buddy, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." You shot back at him, trying to turn your anxiety into anger. Despite the fact that you were without a weapon, you knew you could defend yourself against him. But your mind was still stuck on the fact that you were miraculously healed after he clawed your throat.

"Oh, screw the sharktopus." Chef Leo muttered to himself. Your focus finally went back to the psychopath standing in front of you, and before you had a chance to get yourself out of the situation you landed yourself in, he was faster. All it took was a swift punch for you to fall to the ground unconscious. "You’re my main course."

[Next Part]

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astarinthevalley · 4 years

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It Was Bound To Happen

Siblings get mad at each other, it happens. Siblings fight for silly reasons, it happens. Things can get out of hand, it happens.

Sebastian glanced at the clock on his computer and blinked a couple of times. Was it really 9:45 PM? It was only 4:30 PM a couple of minutes ago.

He pushed his chair away from his screen and looked around his abyss of a room, barely being able to make any piece of furniture out. He’d usually turn on the small TV by his bed for background noise and a source of light--one not too intense, but not too dim either--since he despised getting up and traveling across his room just to flip a light switch.

Sebastian stretched his arms high over his head, listening to the clicks his wrists made as he rotated them. He turned his head and his neck released a loud, satisfying crack.

He got up and heard his feet land on what remained of his lunch: empty, crumbled bags of chips. When did he eat those again? 11 AM? He should be hungry, his stomach should feel like it’s being ripped to shreds like it always does when he forgets to eat, but he felt fine. ‘I should eat something anyways.’ He thought to himself. His mom, Maru, and Demetrius probably already had dinner together, and had stored the leftovers in the microwave for him as they always do whenever he couldn’t--or didn’t--join them.

Sebastian began maneuvering his way through the dark room, shuffling his feet across the floor so he wouldn’t risk stepping on whatever trash he had tossed and forgotten about. He kept his eyes focused on the spot where his door stood and reached his hand out. The moment his fingers came into contact with the cold metal of the knob, he wrapped his hand around it, swung the door open, and was immediately blinded. Why were the house’s lights still on? His mom always turned them off at 9:30.

He walked up the stairs, hand on the railing, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden shift in brightness. As he ascended the stairs, he could hear his step-sister, Maru, talking aloud with the occasional giggle in between her pauses. She must be on the phone.

He reached the hallway and took a right, journeying straight to the kitchen, not interested in whatever Maru was blabbering about. Unfortunately for him, Maru also decided she wanted to spend some of her time in the kitchen. She was sitting on top of their kitchen table, wrinkling the pink cloth covering it that mom had washed today, phone pressed against her ear, and a big, stupid, punchable smile on her face.

Whoever was on the other side was taking their time talking, so Sebastian decided to ask “Where’s mom?”

Maru peeked at him and whispered a ‘Hold on’ to her friend. “They’re at the saloon, and hello to you too.” She said in a tone not nearly as enthusiastic as it was a moment ago.

His mom would always pop into his room to let him know she was heading off somewhere, why didn’t she this time? Or maybe she did and he had forgotten about it.

He brought himself to the microwave and opened it to see a bowl of pesto pasta sitting in the center. ‘Warm it up for a minute, stir, then cook again for another minute.’ His mom’s instructions rang through his head.

He shut the microwave again, set the timer up, got a fork from a drawer, then stood and watched the bowl rotate while listening to the low buzzing and the tiny pops coming from his dinner.

Sebastian always found the noise rather calming in a strange sense--that is until time had run out and his trance would be disrupted by the blaring beeps--but Maru’s rambling was impossible to block out.

“... And I got a letter from another college today--Yeah, yeah! I didn’t expect so many to be interested, I’m really overwhelmed!”

Sebastian couldn’t hold back his groan. She was bragging about her damn robot again. Normally he’d be mildly annoyed but understanding when it came to bragging about accomplishments, he was guilty of doing so himself, but to constantly hear someone praise themselves for well over a month would start to drive anyone insane. Maru had built a robot--with the help of Demetrius--that was about the size of a small dog. It was able to pick up certain objects, respond to commands, and write. She showed off it’s abilities to the whole town, and everyone, even Sebastian, was impressed with what she had created.

“... My dad said he was going to help me with future projects, but I need to be more independent.”

He expected the never-ending praise from his parents, and had prepared himself for the constant compliments Maru would receive throughout this month and the many months after. She could mop the floor and they’d shower her in affection for the whole week, it was something they were both used to. But what he wasn’t prepared for was everyone to constantly talk about Maru and her invention. Maru makes a dingy droid and you might as well have told everyone the second coming of Christ was happening in this very valley. Sure, they lived in a small town, and when anything slightly out of the ordinary popped up, it was bound to be talked about for a couple of weeks, but conversations about Maru have barely dwindled.

“... I still need to make some improvements on the little droid.”

The continuous praise at home was exhausting enough, so to hear her name in every passing conversation was a nightmare. He liked to leave his house to get away from her, to get away from his parents gushing, but now it felt like there was no escape. Even his best friends, Sam and Abigail, had mentioned both Maru and her machine during their nights at the saloon.

Three loud, obnoxious beeps finally escaped the microwave. That had to have been the longest minute of his life.

He took out the dish and stirred the contents recklessly, his fork clashing against the sides of the bowl and scraping the bottom, before placing it back in and setting the timer for another minute.

The second the dish is done, he’ll snatch it up, and rush back into the basement away from Maru. He wouldn’t care if the scalding ceramic would melt his fingers off, he couldn’t stand being in the kitchen with her for a second longer.

“... That’s the problem, I don’t know if I want to move out yet! I really love it here, and I know my parents would support me no matter what I choose, but…”

Is she capable of talking about anything besides herself? Everything has to be about her, her inventions, how her parents can’t get over her, her problems, her success, her feelings, her. Her. Her.

Sebastian hated it. When he stayed up countless nights programming with no help whatsoever, fueled by several cans of energy drinks and stress, all he’d receive were lectures. ‘Stop spending so much time on the computer’, ‘Stop playing games’, ‘Stop browsing the web’, ‘Staying in here for so long is unhealthy’, shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Then when he was given the chance to share what he was doing, explaining how he tests and develops software with enthusiasm and bright eyes, he could see his parents’ lack of interest in their dull eyes. Their amazement and fascination was all used on whatever Maru had been doing that day, and all that was left for him was boredom and exhaustion. Even on the days he went outside to work on his motorcycle, Demetrius wouldn’t hesitate to bicker about how much noise he was making, how he was distracting Maru from her work, how he was making a mess. The man was impossible to satisfy.

“... Yeah, I’ll be able to come over tomorrow!”

Sebastian stared at the timer. There were 10 seconds left.

“... I was thinking of bringing some gadgets over--Oh! We could try…” He hated her. Perhaps that was a strong word, but it was the truth. Nothing good had ever come from Maru.

9 seconds.

“... I don’t mind what we do, I just hate being cooped up in my room all day…” He hated the bragging, he hated the never-ending praise, he hated how the moment she was born their parents shoved everything he had into the basement.

8 seconds.

“... My parents don’t mind…” He hated how she always acted so high and mighty.

7 seconds.

“... As long as I’m home before it gets dark…” He hated how Demetrius would treat him every time he was near her.

6 seconds.

“... I need a break anyways…” He hated how he was always blamed for any argument or feud that came between them.

5 seconds.

“... My wrists have been killing me…” It was never her fault. Maru can’t do anything wrong, it’s always Sebastian.

“... I swear, my projects will be the death of me...” He hated the mere sight of her.

4 seconds.

“... Oh, did I tell you about what I’m currently working on?” He hated her voice.

3 seconds.

“... I’ve been making these blueprints…” He hated her.

2 seconds.

“... For a new robot…” He hated her.

1 second.

“... And I’m hoping it’ll be able to do even more than my first--”

Without his command, his legs took him straight to Maru. He tore the phone from her hand and held it with a crushing grip.

Maru’s mouth hung open, processing what had just happened in those mere, few seconds.

“Please.” Sebastian started in a frigid hush, “Shut. Up.”

Maru blinked a couple of times and stared at him, dumbfounded.

She shook off her surprise and reached for the phone, “I was talking with somebody!”

Sebastian pulled it away and hung up on whoever she was speaking with, “Not anymore. You can call them another time.”

Sebastian turned back to the counter, ready to grab his dinner and leave. He threw her phone aside and heard it land with a gratifying ‘crack’.

Maru scrambled to pick it up, checking the screen to make sure it hadn’t been ruined, then looked back at Sebastian.

“What is your problem?!” She raised her voice, face tinting red.

Sebastian ignored her as he opened the microwave.

She placed the phone on the table and stood up, snapping her fingers to get her step-brother’s attention.

“Hey, hey! You can’t just treat me like garbage one second then pretend I don’t exist the next!”

“I said shut up.” Sebastian repeated coldly, facing away from the girl.

“No, I won’t!” Maru stepped closer, “I can deal with you acting like this most of the time, but these past few weeks you have been really, really--” She scrunched her face, struggling to come up with a word to perfectly describe his recent, foul behavior. “--Vile!” She finished, pointing a finger at him.

“Sorry I’m not kissing your ass like everyone else.” He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the hot dish. He set it on the counter and scanned the kitchen for napkins.

Maru watched him search for a minute, then the gears in her head started turning.

Her eyes widened, “It’s because of my robot, isn’t it--”

“No, that damned robot isn’t the issue,” He clutched the edge of the counter, “it’s you! That’s my problem, it’s always been you!” He growled.

A genuinely hurt expression flashed across Maru’s face before it was replaced with anger. Her hands curled into fists.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” She muttered, her voice was shaky. “You’re… You’re just…” She hated these moments with Sebastian. She hated how often they’d come. No matter what she did, no matter what she said, the two of them always ended up arguing. She’d always lose. She’d always be given a repulsed look and grumbled cusses as he’d walk away. Sometimes her parents would intervene and defend her, but they weren’t here right now.

She can’t keep letting herself get stepped on.

“Because you’re jealous, aren’t you?” She finally said, her voice still unsteady.

Sebastian’s body stiffened.

“Because you’re in your basement all day, staring at your--your stupid computer, pretending everyone doesn’t exist…” She breathed in, “And while you were sitting around, being angry, I was out there doing something. I’m actually getting somewhere! I actually have the chance for a successful future, I have potential, and you--you--y…”

The confidence she was finally building up had been shattered into millions of pieces as she watched Sebastian reach over to the knife block. When his fingers curled around and held the grip of the nearest knife, she felt her blood drain from her face.

The world had stopped. Maru had stopped. She couldn’t move. She only stood and waited, hoping Sebastian would let go, tell her he’s kidding, or for him to go outside to smoke, anything. Anything.

Sebastian began to turn his head in her direction, the hatred in his eyes burned greater than the flames in the depths of Hell. The more he kept turning his head, the louder her heart banged in her ears. Her horrifying hypnotic heartbeat was soon overtaken by a single thought booming in her head: He’s going to kill me.

Maru made a dash to the hallway, hearing her step-brother’s footsteps right on her tail as he started shouting a slew of curses and threats. She had never heard Sebastian shout in such a terrible tone in her entire life. Even during their absolute worst fights, his raised voice would sound pissed at most. But here? Now? He was screaming. There were moments where his voice would strain as he swung the knife she barely avoided, threatening to hack her head off. Whatever restraint he had built up over the years, whatever had kept him sane throughout the entirety of their relationship had been thrown out. All that remained was a man who looked like her step-brother screaming bloody murder, fueled by pure hatred, and wanting nothing more than to see her bleed.

Maru saw the door to her parents room on the right and instantly ran inside. She locked the door and took lungfuls of air, hot tears running down her face as she almost choked on her own spit.

The knob began to wriggle faster and faster until Sebastian resorted to banging and kicking. He’d slam his body against it, causing the door to budge and Maru’s life to flash before her eyes.

“OPEN THIS DOOR!” She heard him scream, “OPEN THIS DOOR, OPEN THIS DOOR! I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

He kept shouting those words and other horrible threats at her. She needed to get out.

She whipped her head around, hoping to find any possible escape route, but a pit began to form in her stomach as she realized she had trapped herself in her parents’ room. This wasn’t like her bedroom, there wasn’t another door that led outside, and the only window in here wasn’t big enough for her to crawl through.

The banging on the door grew louder, so did Sebastian’s yelling.

“YOU BITCH.” Sebastian threw himself against the door again.

She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think straight. Block the door. She needs to block the door.

She saw two wooden chairs beside her parents’ bed that sat in the center of the room and grabbed one. She wedged the back of the chair underneath the doorknob, praying it’d be enough to hold back Sebastian.

She suddenly saw the blade of the knife jab through the crack of the door and watched it dragg up and down before being pulled back in. Whatever Sebastian was attempting to do didn’t go as planned; he resorted to charging against the door again, shouting, and now sporadically stabbing the door itself.

Maru would watch in horror as the blade made its way through the other side of the door with every other stab. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the door. She wanted to throw up.

“I HATE YOU.”

As Sebastian’s screaming and thrashing grew more and more voluminous, Maru backed herself against the wall, sat down, and brought her knees to her chest. She covered her ears, tears clouding her vision, as horrid thoughts and questions filled her mind. She remembered watching so many documentaries about serial killers with Penny, fascinated with how sick people could be. She never imagined her own step-brother would be the end of her.

“DO YOU HEAR ME?”

She wondered what it’d be like to have a knife plunged into her chest. Would it feel like a quick sting? Would it burn? Would her adrenaline prevent her from feeling anything at all, and she’d be stuck staring into her step-brother’s wild eyes? Would he drag out her demise? Or would he end her life as fast as possible?

“I HATE YOU.”

Maybe she deserves this. Maybe she should have treated him better. Maybe she could’ve tried harder. She should’ve kept her stupid mouth shut. She shouldn’t have said anything. None of this would’ve happened. Sebastian feels this way because of her. She deserves this. She deserves this. She’s going to die. She’s going to die.

She suddenly heard the front door open through Sebastian’s banging. Footsteps and muffled voices, which soon turned into shouting, grew near.

“Sebastian? Sebastian--oh my God, what are DOING!?” She heard her mom shout. Sebastian was rather too consumed with wanting to kill Maru, or no longer cared about the consequences, as his screaming and thrashing became more severe.

Demetrius’ shouting started clashing with Sebastian’s, and another, quieter male voice could be heard as well.

Sebastian’s ruckus came to an abrupt stop. He must’ve been pulled away from the door. She could hear his yelling, his legs kicking about, and--somehow--his knife swinging wildly.

Someone knocked on the door. “Maru, honey, are you in there?” Maru heard her mother ask through Sebastian and Demetrius’ shouting.

“It’s safe to come out,” Her mom said, “Dr. Harvey called the police. You’re going to be okay.”

Maru slowly got up and pulled the chair away. She cautiously unlocked the door and listened to the yelling grow louder as she opened the door more and more.

Maru was hoping seeing her mother would cause a wave of relief and security to wash over her, but Robin wore a false smile in a poor attempt to mask her fear, making Maru feel sicker.

Robin pulled her in for a tight hug and placed her hand on her head, whispering to Maru that they’re going to be okay, everything will be fine, it’s all over now.

Maru forced her head to the right and saw an enraged Demetrius and a terrified Harvey restraining both of Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian had finally stopped shouting. He was sitting on the floor, panting through gritted teeth, tears running down his face, and staring at her with those horrible, loathsome eyes that wished to see nothing more than Maru’s demise.

#stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley maru #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic #sdv sebastian #sdv maru #some swearing!#fun sibling fight :)#wrote this cause why not ya know #if tumblr format is not your style the lil #description/summary above has a link to the Ao3 if that's nicer!!

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