#we even got meaningful eye contact and a kiss blown after the fact these two make me ill. he really is the work boyfriend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flanelltees · 5 years

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hey writer side of tumbler can you please critique this i need help bc it reads weird to me. its a section of a rough draft so keep that in mind. feel free to comment directly on the post or send me an IM or inbox msg.

it is billy/steve from stranger tings

Eight beers in for the both of them, and they were falling into each other’s orbits over and over until meaningless teasing morphed into an interrogation. Steve’s whole face was warm, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol, or Billy prying deeper and deeper into his personal life with each new question he posed.

“So you are a queer?”

Steve lunged forward to clap a hand over Billy’s mouth, eyebrows furrowed with all the control over his face he had left.

“Alright, watch your fucking language, Hargrove. I don’t—” he cut himself off to rummage around in his brain for some dodgy answer that sounded even a little resolute. His train of thought was interrupted when Billy wrestled his hand away and gave him a full-bodied shove into the wall nearest the two of them.

God, Steve should just stop trying to brute-force things with this guy. He kept coming out on the bottom.

His head was swimming from the shove, but despite it practically knocking a few brain cells out of commission, the heat in his face persisted as Billy’s question remained hanging in the air. Steve pressed his palms against his eyes, thinking momentarily about one of the little shits, Will. Steve wanted to do right by him, if what Henderson said about which... team he played for was true. But admitting the truth to yourself had to be a little different when you hadn’t really known it for sure until you were nineteen years old and absolutely plastered, right?

“I—”

“And you wouldn’t have anything against fucking me?”

Steve held a hand up, but all he could say was to stop being so fucking crude.

“Listen, I-”

“I told you what I’d do for you, Harrington. Nobody’s around. And I wouldn’t pussy out of this.”

It was baffling how quick Steve was losing his resolve. He pressed out a sigh.

“... I—… just... didn’t think... you’d be part of this… equation.”

Truthfully, confronting himself about the feelings that, in vague iterations, rolled in and out of his conscious, wasn’t something Steve was planning on involving Billy in.

The two had been a very loose definition of friends for most of the summer, being in silent agreement that it was nothing too meaningful or involved, and that they would treat their routine converging as a means for neutral territory. Just somebody to talk to.

They were both nearly braindead from the monotony of their jobs, Steve had a big empty house and a lot of free beer, and the rest was practically history. And that should’ve been the end of it, if Steve had the goddamn foresight to know that Billy Hargrove would never make a good companion to somebody he just got done hating.

So, of course, Billy was just being fucking Billy, wedging himself into Steve’s business at the first sign of an open door. And Steve had always been a painfully emotional guy.

If Steve wasn’t sure he had been trapped between Billy and the wall before, he was sure of it now. Billy was stepping closer, crowding him flat against the cool plaster until the only way out was the way he got in.

With what defensive instinct he had left, Steve clumsily searched for cracks in the facade. If he caught one, it was for a split second and it made him falter, in an unrefined hesitance flashing across Billy’s expression.

Steve wasn’t gonna fuck Billy, he firmly reassured himself. Billy wasn’t gonna fuck Steve either. Steve just didn’t have enough restraint left to stop mirroring the way Billy was starting to look at him. His stomach swooped but he didn’t feel anything coming up, so it had to have been his glance at Billy’s mouth coming closer, and the fact that Steve couldn’t find it in himself to want to draw away.

If Steve was being honest, Billy was by no means a sight for sore eyes. When their lips finally touched, for a second the kiss wouldn’t have been half-bad. If only the entire situation hadn’t been riddled with a whole shitload of new rules Steve had no idea how to navigate.

While Steve’s brain tried to logically supply that this kiss shouldn’t be any different from the dozens of others that came before, it also made his hands clammy and awkward in their approach at what to do with themselves. The heaviness from the alcohol didn’t do much for how ungracefully he decided to take Billy’s face into his hands.

He was starting to really feel the ruthless hammer of his heart against his chest.

When Billy began to tilt his head into the kiss, Steve felt his hands slip underneath his jacket, finding his hips. They rested there for a few moments, before Billy gave Steve a squeeze. At the movement, Steve flinched, then broke the contact with a jerk.

“Okay, time. Just to put it out there, there’s a whole fuckload of—of emotional, internalized bullshit I’ve got running laps in my head right now. I mean, I—” he paused to briefly run his thumbs against the grain of Billy’s stubble. “I’ve never made out with a mustache before. It’s like I’m shooting at half-court with a fucking blind fold on—”

“If you could make up your mind we might actually get to making out tonight, Harrington,” Billy cut in.

“Look,” he said, releasing his grip on Steve, then taking a step back, netting Steve’s full attention. He watched as Billy went and pressed himself against the wall alongside him, the gesture seeming to spell out his surrender of control. But when Steve assumed he’d stand in front of Billy then, positioning himself across the way, Hargrove’s blue eyes had leveled on his. His pupils were blown wide open. They were gushing something balmy and fierce.

It took the wetness right out of Steve’s mouth.

“Are you in, or are you out?”

All of a sudden this new formation they were in was falling a little more comfortably within Steve’s range. Didn’t Billy know how to get what he wanted.

Steve’s hands found purchase on Billy’s waist, his stomach starting to churn. Billy’s middle was solid and thick, and filled out the whole palm of each hand. Steve pressed his fingers into corded meat through thin fabric, and oh man. He was starting to think Billy was a lot smarter than he gave him credit for. Something nameless flickered to life below Steve’s skin when he leaned over to find his way to Billy’s lips.

Steve hadn’t ever felt the type of deep upheaval Billy started to kick up on the inside of him before. Billy met Steve’s parted lips with an open mouth, and it made Steve’s whole head red and heavy when Billy started working into it like he was born to kiss that good. The way Billy flexed his jaw made every little bit about his tongue and lips so much more stupefying. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut.

It was so, god damn hot in there, Steve thought. He figured that it had always been, all of Billy, his inside, his outside, but Steve never believed he’d ever touch it like this. Never really wanted to, that is, until he got the chance. All at once, the searing heat of him made Steve want to bask in it.

Steve nearly tipped over as he started to get caught up in chasing after that mouth. His breath came out of his nose in short puffs when Billy started to pull on him, with his teeth then with his tongue. Steve licked back in answer, his jaw falling open wider to touch and slide more of his own tongue into Billy’s mouth. He turned his head down when Billy leaned back from him, breath ragged.

Steve dove into Billy’s neck, sucking feverish kisses along the length of it. Sweat mixed with spit and Steve never remembered it tasting so good. When it felt like he couldn’t hold on to enough of him anymore, Steve dragged Billy closer to him by his middle to press their bodies flush and push his flattened hands into the dip in Billy’s lower back, then up to grope at the other hard muscles flexing under his skin.

#flanelltalks #stranger things #stranger things season 3 #st season 3 #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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gauntie-o-dimm · 5 years

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Hosea Matthews X Reader | Before, After What Happened In Saint Denis | Chapter 9-16

Originally posted this on AO3. This post is a continuation of the story, so you should read part 1, first. These are NOT spoiler free, but part 1 is. Read at your own risk, you gonna be sad.

Part 1

Word count: 2300+ Warnings: Swearing, spoilers, death, pregnancy, angst

Chapter 9 - Preparations

'What have you and Dutch been discussing so often lately?' you said with genuine interest as you took a bite from the stew Pearson had made. Hosea looked up from his dish, raising an eyebrow before putting his spoon in his plate. 'The bank of Saint Denis turns out to be loaded with money, so we are planning out a big heist.' he explained after wiping his mouth with a piece of cloth.

Concern made your stomach churn. 'A heist? Again?' 'Dutch said we need the money, and trust me darling, we really do.' he reached out over the table, putting his hand on yours for a moment. 'But Saint Denis is huge... And there will be so many Pinkertons there!' 'We'll be fine, really. As long as we have each other, being on the run from the law isn't all that bad.' he said with a wry smile. 'All that is left are some preparations and a distraction to be planned.'

'Can I come too?' The question had slipped from you before you even realized it. As protective as he was, Hosea shook his head. 'No, darling, I don't want to risk losing you.'

You sighed, looking at him with a thoughtful gaze. For a moment, your hand went to your stomach.

'Listen, Hosea, there is something that I need to tell y--'

'Hosea!' Dutch's voice hollered through the camp, beckoning for him to come over. Hosea sighed. 'I am sorry, (Y/n), please hold that thought and I will be back in a moment.'

You exhaled deeply as you watched him leave towards his friend, knowing that the moment he spoke about would most likely become an hour or two. In silence, you finished your stew.

Chapter 10 - Don’t Do Anything Stupid

Hosea’s hand rested on your cheek so sweetly that yours went up to hold it right where it was.

‘Will you be careful then?’ He looked painfully handsome in his suit. ‘Of course.’ he reassured, ‘I will come back to you, my love.’

‘Hosea.’ Dutch said with a stern voice, ushering him to hurry up. You embraced the older man in front of you, inhaling his scent deeply. ‘Just... Don’t do anything stupid.’

‘Robbing a bank is kind of stupid, (Y/n)...’ Hosea said with a small chuckle, leaning in to kiss you. ‘I love you...’ he whispered, ‘I love you, too...’ Softly, you pressed your lips a bit tighter against his. You didn't want him to taste your worry.

He pulled back, giving you a small smile before turning to the wagon, climbing on the driver’s seat, next to Abigail. ‘Be careful!’ you exclaimed as the caravan of outlaws started to move. Hosea made meaningful eye-contact with you for a moment. You kept looking as they disappeared into the distance until you couldn’t see them anymore.

‘(Y/n).’ Susan Grimshaw reassured, ‘Don’t you worry.’ You nodded, looking at the ground.

‘Hey, are you OK?’

‘I... I am pregnant.’

‘With Hosea’s?’

‘With who else? I haven’t had my period in nearly three months, my breasts hurt and I can’t keep in any breakfast I eat. Plus, I’ve been gaining some weight at my stomach...’

Susan hummed, nodding a little. ‘I already thought so... It is slightly noticeable, you know. If you’re a woman, that is. Men don’t see such things... Have you told him yet?’

‘What?’

‘Have you told Hosea that you’re probably expecting?’

‘No... I tried, but something came in between. I’ll tell him once they return.’ Susan smiled at this. ‘Good. Then we’ll have a huge party! After running to another camp, probably...’

You hummed in agreement. ‘But until then, all we have to do is wait.’

Chapter 11 - The Crash Of The World

The returning group was awfully thin. In the depth of night, two figures appeared at the horizon. Horse hooves trembled through the ground. You stood, wiping the creases from your skirt. Judging by the two postures, Hosea was not among them... Maybe something came in between, or those two had forgotten to bring something...?

All of camp gathered at the horse stations as the exhausted Abigail and Charles dismounted, out of breath and most certainly not followed by anyone - Abigails answer to Susan’s panicking question.

‘Arthur, Javier, Micah, Dutch and Bill are on a ship to God knows where, it was their only option to escape. As for—‘ Charles halted in the middle of his sentence.

Abigail and Charles shared a glance and the woman sharply nodded towards you. Worry filled your veins as said man put a calm hand upon your shoulder and lead you away from the group. ‘I am sorry, (Y/n)... We were surrounded by Pinkertons, and they had grabbed him as a hostage. Before we could do something, Milton just... I am so sorry, (Y/n), but Hosea didn’t make it, he... ... ...’

Charles’ voice sounded like a blurred mumble now as you felt your heart break into a million pieces. A cry of agony escaped your lips, startling the group that was standing somewhere away, also just taking in the horrible news of the fallen ones—

—You fell to your knees in the dirt, but you didn’t care—The only thing you knew how to do was how to cry, and so you held your face in your hands as an endless stream of tears and misery shattered your soul.

There was no comfort in the gang’s words, nor in their arms that were thrown around you so friendly - You could hear nothing of their words and couldn’t regain consciousness after chugging two— three cups of water — no, your entire world was taken right then and there.

This had to be a nightmare, you assured yourself after finally falling asleep against Susan’s shoulder, and when you woke up, you would see him right away, with the newest paper in one hand and some fresh coffee in the other — yes, you were sure!

The rest of camp packed up in chaos, putting you in the back of a wagon alongside some tents and bedrolls.

Chapter 12 - A Proposition

‘He didn’t even know that he was going to be a father.’ The sudden remark that you whispered to Sadie hit you so hard that it took your breath away. ‘Holy fuck...’

The blonde girl put a hand on your shoulder. ‘Please just don’t say such things.�� ‘That day they left... That was the final time we saw each other!’

Sadie noticed you were about to break down again. ‘Hush now. Say, what do you think if we sneak into the morgue and get him and Lenny out? Give them a proper burial, would that comfort you?’

You had no idea of the state Hosea could be in, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to see him once more. You nodded eagerly, ‘If you’d do that, I’d be eternally grateful!’

Chapter 13 - Last Rites

He did in fact look dead, you pondered as you hold his limp body in your lap, and his skin was icy cold - not only from being in the icy morgue for a few days. You didn’t dare to kiss him, afraid of the taste, the smell, the feel...

‘(Y/n).’ Charles softly spoke, ‘It’s time.’ You weakly nodded, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you carefully laid Hosea’s head from your legs onto the ground again, standing up and dusting down your clothes. With much care, Charles lifted him up, laying him in the grave next to Lenny’s.

Abigail put an arm around you as sobs started to leave you, making you unable to hear the last rites Swanson read to them. Perhaps this was something that could help you cope, you wondered, but maybe it was not. Whatever way, it was fucking miserable.

Chapter 14 - Betrayal

It had been weeks before they returned, Arthur finding Lakay at first. The rest soon followed - And then, a Pinkerton attack filled with blood and bodies pumped full of lead.

The gang had to move once more, the stress taking a toll on your body. As your stomach started to grow, so did your longing toward Hosea - you missed him dearly and still clung onto his clothes to inhale his smell.

But it was fading, much to your dismay.

Ruckus at the camp caused you to let go of the light blue striped shirt, putting it down carefully before moving towards the commotion.

Molly’s red hair was messily braided as she stumbled around, slurring her words thickly. It turned out that Uncle had found her drunk at Saint Denis. The fight was already full blown, with Molly throwing insults at Dutch's head, about how she is not his to own. He had it coming, you mused to yourself, before she muttered something that made the hairs of your neck stand on end.

'I told them!'

'I'm sorry? Dutch grumbled, and Molly soon responded: 'Yeah, I told 'em and I will tell 'em again! Now I've got Gods ear!' 'You told who what?' a demand came from Dutch's chapped lips. 'Mr. Milton and Mr. Ross... About the bank robbery! And I wanted them to kill you!' 'You did what?!' Dutch drew his revolver, pointing it at her.

'I loved you, you goddamn bastard! Go on, shoot me!'

Arthur put his hand on his shoulder: 'She's crazy, she ain't worth it.' 'You know the rules!' the leader of the gang grunted.

'You aren't so big now, are we your majesty?!' Molly said with a mocking bow.

The feeling of betrayal became too much for you to keep quiet.

‘You!’ You suddenly spat, causing all attention to go to you. You approached her directly, holding one hand under your swollen stomach, the other pointing at her in a confronting way.

‘Because of your stupid fucking egoism, I will have to raise this child without a father! Because you were too self-centered, all of us have to live with the grief that this left behind - My child will never know the great man Hosea was! This gang will never feel the same again without the men we've lost, all because of you! The only damned bastard here is you!’

Molly was silent, looking at you with a confused gaze as you started sobbing loudly. All Susan needed was one glance at your broken form before she took the shot. With a thud, Molly O’Shea fell to the ground, blood as red as her curls.

Chapter 15 - Mourning Never Ends

A heavy cry left your lips as you pushed as hard as you could. The sharp smell of blood and sweat was thick in the dark room. ‘Come on, (Y/n), just a little longer. I think I can see the head...’

You clenched onto the sheets, wishing all the more that his hand was there to hold and squeeze as pain overwhelmed you—

— ‘There it is!’ The pain reduced and you felt the baby slip out of you — ‘It’s a boy!’ Tilly cheered in delight. He immediately started wailing. She pushed him into your arms right after cutting the umbilical cord. He was still slick and grimy, but you held him to you nevertheless. The blanket you had around your naked upper body slipped from you and you laid him against your bare chest, shushing him to calm him down. ‘I know, my boy. That is what I want to do too so often when I see what a shit-hole the world has become...’ you whispered, only loud enough for him to hear. ‘There was happiness in here. But it has all faded away as the innocent folk died, like your father, Arthur, Molly O’Shea, Miss Susan... Yet you make the world a little better... Maybe you can be my new happiness...’

Tilly smiled at the motherly scene as she took a bucket of water from above the fire. It wasn’t boiling - just warm enough to be pleasant for a newborn. As the child had calmed, Tilly took him from you, gently rinsing his skin in the bucket for he didn’t need much more space.

‘Have you decided on a name yet?’ she asked as she handed him back to you, taking a clean rag, dampening it and dabbing it against your sweaty forehead. A tired smile came over your features.

‘Melvin. Melvin Hosea Matthews.’

‘What a wonderful name that is.’ Tilly whispered. You wryly grinned at the thought of your passed significant other and all the great memories you had of him. Time heals all wounds, they say, but you doubted it far from being true. However, if this was a final gift from Hosea to you - a child with his features, a new purpose - it was everything you could’ve wished for.

Chapter 16 - Epilogue

Melvin looked more like Hosea every day. You squinted against the light of the lowering sun, enjoying the glass of red wine in your hand, watching ever closely over your seven-year-old who was darting around the field of flowers.

‘Careful with her, Mel!’ you warned him as he took the hand of Tilly's little daughter, wanting to drag her along to play. A sigh left your lips at the sight of both of them laughing - how proud Hosea would’ve been.

‘You know,’ Mary-Beth began, looking up from her writing, ‘I am sure that somewhere in the universe, if you hope hard enough along with having a little faith, that he watches upon you and Melvin very closely and protects you from evil.’

You rolled your eyes before sipping some of the drink you held. ‘This world is damned.’ you spoke, ‘And every day it will get damned more, because Hosea is getting further and further away.’

‘I disagree.’ Tilly Pierre said softly, nodding towards Melvin. ‘Within him, he lives on.’ You kept silent.

‘Every day Melvin will be more like his father. You will tell him plenty stories of him, about who he was, about what he fought for. And as time passes, you will find your Hosea within him. Melvin is part of both you and Hosea, which makes him worth living for.’ Mary-Beth mused.

And for once, you found comfort in Mary-Beth’s words.

#red dead redemption x reader #hosea matthews x reader #hosea matthews #red dead redemption #major spoilers #spoilers #get some tissues ok #when i wrote this i cried

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wordsinwinters · 7 years

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Then Again, P9 Peter Parker x Reader

Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! My author’s note is a little long (it’s about the fic as a whole), so if you’d like to read it, I’ve just posted it as a separate text.

Still, however, I wanted to write an enormous thank you to those who have reblogged this fic recently! Thank you so much! It means more than I can say to know you guys wanted to share this with others 🌷🌷🌷

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 10, Part 11

Without further ado, a Peter P.O.V. chapter:

Then Again, Part 9

Words: (1,864)

As the millionth text from Ned buzzes my phone, I consider chucking it off the roof. Maybe myself with it.

It only took an episode of yelling with Y/N and a door slam for him to finally answer me back, as if the five minutes of me pounding on his and MJ’s door earlier hadn’t been a concern of his. Now, given the timing, I’ve decided to respond with his own stubbornness and refuse to even open the messages. I can guess what they say. Probably what Aunt May said when she called forty minutes ago.

Something like: Maybe it’s time to be straightforward and tell her. What’s the worst that could happen? It has to be better than how you’ve left it. As long as you handle this properly, I think the Peter Parker Gets a Girlfriend initiative is still in the running!

I know I’m not handling this well. I know it’s bad. I know. I mean, it’s kind of impossible to feel how I feel about her and not understand that I’ve probably - definitely - blown all my chances at this point. I wish Aunt May understood that. Trying to explain what it was like back there, how bad I made it, how angry we both were... all it did was make me want to throw up. And Aunt May didn’t exactly listen, really listen, to that part anyway. If I hadn’t gotten choked up, she probably would have called Y/N herself. I’ve never been so relieved to start crying on a rooftop while talking to someone. At least she’s backing off. For tonight, that is.

I can’t stop thinking about how it happened. It was so fast. Even though I knew it was building up all week, I had no idea I would snap like that - and at first, I really didn’t mean to.

I mean, it’s been hard keeping everything in. Aunt May and Ned have been putting so much pressure on me to “tell her how I feel” lately and then she was always so happy the last few days that every time I was around her, which was constantly with all of our studying, I kept finding myself balanced between wanting to burst out and finally tell her, consequences be damned, or else call Happy and see if Mr. Stark had any potentially lethal missions available. Instead, I kept my mouth firmly shut and avoided eye contact with her and Aunt May. After this morning with Flash, last night with Flash, the thought of her kissing Flash (even at six years old, which, I know, is so stupid to be upset over, but it’s… it’s Flash) and all the private texting between everyone, the pool was the last straw.

I tried to get out of it earlier. Maybe I should’ve. But Y/N asked me if I was coming in a voice that warned me something was off, so I went. I didn’t want to be there. But I worried she might need someone. (Ironic, given how I behaved in the end. God, I was such an ass.)

Plus, after she hugged me and ran off, things got really weird. I knew why she did it, even if Aunt May keeps denying any involvement. It’s awkward to imagine what Aunt May must have said to her to make her do it. She obviously didn’t want to. Not to mention, I knew I got her stuck outside with Flash when Aunt May called again.

In my defense, I really thought Ned and MJ would let her in the other room.

Anyway, the point is: things were never more unclear with Y/N than they were an hour ago. I’ve been so worried about letting myself get too excited around her that I’ve probably been leaning too far into reasons to be upset with her (Ned thinks it’s some “self-preservation” thing and I’m starting to agree). I must have been coming across as a rude asshole all week. If Aunt May and Ned have been trying to push her towards me, it must have been super confusing for her, it probably made my behavior even worse.

All that aside, it still doesn’t make any sense why she would try to get me to play that game in the pool.

With Abe it was easy. We were just pretending, like acting punches, pretend shoves. Y/N knows that if I really hit someone it could go seriously wrong. I can’t risk it. I would never risk it with any of my friends, not ever, even if it’s a game. So when she started getting angry, I figured it was just a way to get angry with me like I’d been doing with her. Do something! I can still hear her saying it. I just don’t understand what she wanted me to do, though.

The more she said it, the more I worried she was hinting at something bigger. Was she trying to poke me into letting some Spidey secret out? I have never suspected that type of motive from her, but why else mock me with something she knows I can’t do because of it? Could it really have slipped her mind? She’s always on top of everything. It doesn’t seem like something she’d forget.

I guess - no, I know - I let fear get the best of me. I should never have shouted or gotten angry or splashed her like I did. It doesn’t matter if I’ve been nervous this week around her or scared of everything I’ve been feeling or frustrated that she invited Flash to the dinner or even panicked about her practically yelling a phrase I didn’t understand: I should have kept my temper and waited to talk to her later, like she said.

That’s the shittiest part. Out of everybody, she’s the person I wish I could to talk to most about this - about everything. But I can’t.

I’m torn into two parts right now and neither of them is concerned with securing Y/N as my girlfriend. (I know that isn’t how Ned and Aunt May meant it, but “winning the game” or “accomplishing the mission” is not even on my radar at the moment.) First, I’m still frustrated. Not angry, at least, but everything we talked- well, yelled- about didn’t just dissolve. It’s still in my head, even if I’m trying to erase it. Second, all I want to do is go back and apologize like an idiot. Even if we’re fighting, I don’t want to make her feel bad about anything. I want to go make sure she’s alright. All I wanted in the first place was to finally hear the truth about her and MJ, to get through to her about Flash, and to just... feel like I’m a real part of her life... even if not in the way I want.

I don’t think I accomplished much in the way of those three things, but then again, I’m still reeling. There’s so much to go over. My brain’s on overload.

I need to think this out.

I need to be rational.

Okay.

First: Y/N said she and MJ aren’t dating. Ned and Aunt May always thought I was looking too far into little things when I brought this up. Maybe they were right. She did seem seriously surprised. Why deny it when confronted? And why else would MJ have been texting me today, hinting that she knew I liked Y/N? If Aunt May or Ned told her, wouldn’t she have gotten upset about it and said something to my face, had they been dating? It did make me paranoid today that she was playing with me, but now the tone of her messages doesn’t seem threatening like it did before. It seems... curious, if not supportive. I... I guess that part is settled. Y/N did say, I’m not dating my best friend.

Did she mean none of her best friends, though? It felt coded. It felt like shit. I know I don’t have a chance in the first place, but it still stung like a slap to the face.

That phrase keeps playing in my head.

I’m not dating my best friend.

I need to stop thinking about it.

Second: Flash. That hasn’t moved anywhere. He’s still a dick and she’s still too forgiving with him. Thank God she doesn’t like him, at least. But the other things she said when I brought him up are definitely significant. What did she mean about Liz? Liz doesn’t have disagreements with many people and if they didn’t like each other, I certainly never noticed. But she said that too: I never noticed it. I’ll ask her about that later. Not too soon, definitely not tonight, but when - if - things get better.

There’s something more important to focus on.

She thinks about me. All the time. I can’t dwell too much on this; I know it doesn’t mean what I want it to mean, but it is meaningful in a thousand other ways.

She cares. She worries. She waits. She thinks about me. She really, genuinely, seriously cares about me. And she thinks about me, all the time.

How many times has she thought of me while I was thinking of her?

This thought is too dizzying. My legs feel like they might fold in.

I wind my towel up and put it behind my head to lie on it like a pillow.

I picture her walking home from school and sending me a text, thinking of me. All the while, I’m on the opposite side of Queens assuming her message is just a usual kindness, something she would do for anybody.

I think about you all the time, more than anyone else.

I nearly fainted when she said that, I swear to God.

So third: I am a real part of her life - proven by what she said. I think that’s enough. Knowing she genuinely, seriously cares is enough. I’d rather she thought of me in a more positive way, but if worrying reflects any sort of dedication to our friendship, that’s plenty. Though I will, from now on, respond to her messages immediately... even if it makes me feel desperate and lame, just to make sure she isn’t stressed out anymore. She worries about me.

Conclusions combined, I have no idea how I feel. I was so angry today. Flash’s stunt, the fact I thought Y/N actually wanted to defend him, thinking she and MJ were in a secret relationship, the pressure Aunt May and Ned have been putting on me this week, especially since that hug thing... overall, the entire idea of their “mission.” (Honestly, calling it a mission did not make it any more appealing, despite what they may have hoped.)

It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m on unstable ground, but at least I know that when I go back to the room, I won’t feel claustrophobic, like I can’t get enough air. I’ve got fear to spare in gallons, but there’s hope mixed in too. I can fix this.

It’ll be okay. I can do this. I’m Spider-Man, for fuck’s sake.

I just need... a few minutes longer to get my head together.

Holy shit.

Part 10

Next Update: Friday, November 3

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hurricane-jenn · 7 years

Text

Bullet Proof- Chapter 9

Hey guys. I am so so sorry this update has taken me so long. Moving really made a disaster of my life, and I have had next to know spare time in the last few weeks. As I mentioned before, we are nearing the end of Bullet Proof, most likely only one, maybe two, chapters left. I have plans for sequels, if people are interested. As always thanks to @jordan202 for the support!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

“Uhhh guys, you know there are cameras in here right?”

Amelia and Owen sprang apart. Owen searched aimlessly for his shirt, eyes fixed on the camera.

“Your shirt is behind you man,” Henry laughed enjoying seeing the two panic.

Owen spun around and threw his shirt back on in one swift motion. Amelia crumpled into a fit of laughter.

“Amelia,” Owen hissed. “This is not funny!”

“Actually man,” Henry’s voice replied. “It kind of is. But don’t worry; I’m the only one in the security office right now. Just copying the footage to take back to the lab, I’ll make sure this part gets left out.”

Amelia and Owen let out collective sighs of relief.

“Don’t worry,” Henry continued. “I won’t mention this to anyone, but don’t think this is the last you’ll be hearing about it from me.” Henry teased.

Amelia and Owen sighed knowing Henry would not let them live this down.

“Alright, alright,” Amelia groaned. “Just leave us alone so we can come upstairs and see the crime scene.”

Henry piped down and Owen and Amelia road the rest of the way up in silence.

When Amelia and Owen reached the 32nd floor both were trying hard not to make eye contact with each other.

"Well there you are!" Henry smirked sensing how uncomfortable they both were. "What took you so long? Teddy said you guys left her downstairs, yet somehow she beat you here." He spoke loudly purposefully drawing attention to the two.

"Uhhh elevator troubles..." Owen mumbled.

"Wow, good thing I caught the other elevator," Teddy teased knowingly, appearing beside Henry.

"Henry," Amelia hissed. "You said you weren't going to tell anyone!"

"I can't keep anything from Teddy," he protested. "She's my wife." The two shared a sentimental smile.

"Ugh you two are gonna make me sick!" Amelia groaned.

"Oh really?" Henry laughed. "We're making you sick? Should we talk about what I just saw on the security cameras?"

"Henry!" Teddy slapped his arm playfully. "Leave them alone."

"Alright, you're right. We should get back to work." With that the two of them headed back towards the crime scene.

Owen and Amelia shared an awkward smile not knowing where to go from there.

"What the heck do you think is going on with them?" Amelia asked breaking the silence.

Owen chuckled, "Honestly, I have no idea." They shared a smile about their friends' complicated relationship status.

"Alright," Amelia said stepping away from him. "I should probably go take a look at the body..."

"Right, yeah that makes sense," He replied, clearly not wanting to part ways with her.

"I'll call later," she assured him. He nodded. He wanted so bad to kiss her, but they were surrounded by colleagues, and they'd already blown their cover once today. They settled for sharing a warm smile.

But she didn't call him, and he didn't call her either. The minute they parted ways at the crime scene the case spun out of control. Both of them were running nonstop for 3 days. Of course they spoke occasionally to share details about the case, but it was strictly professional. Over the next 3 days, five more employees of the company were found dead. Some in the office, but after the police shut the building down they started turning up dead in their home, their cars, public places. They were dealing with a mass murder and had no clue how they were going to find him. The company, a law firm catering to Seattle’s elite, denied any knowledge of who might be behind all the attacks, and the managing partner seemed to have no regard for the safety of his employees, continuously inquiring when they could go back to work.

At the end of the third day, after next to no sleep since that night at Owen's, Amelia sent her team home for some much needed sleep. She went home as well, but she was too wired to get any sleep. She paced her apartment trying to wear herself out. She turned on the TV, flipped though the channels, nothing catching her attention. It was two in the morning and she still hadn't managed to get any sleep. Grabbing her keys she decided maybe a drive would do her well.

Owen and Teddy finally dragged themselves home a little after midnight. They had been going for days without any rest. They were both starving, and because neither of them had been home lately, they really didn't have any food. Owen ordered a pizza and they scarfed it down. Teddy announced she was going to try to get some sleep. Owen relaxed onto the couch cushions trying to clear his mind to sleep. He thought about what had happened over the past week. The breakthrough of feelings he and Amelia had had. That amazing moment in the elevator that was interrupted too soon. The promise of more that was never fulfilled. Not that it was anyone's fault; work had gotten in the way. He wondered what she was doing now, did she finally go home to get some sleep, or was she still at work? He knew how stressed this case was making her. He could hear it in her voice when she called with updates, and he could see it on her face when they arrived at another crime scene. She was taking this personally, like somehow buy not finding the truth she was failing them. He wished he could wrap her up in his arms, tell her this wasn't her fault, that she is doing the best she can, and she is not to blame for this; but they are trying to keep their relationship private and he couldn't do that. Relationship. He didn't even know if he could call it that. They had shared one date, two very great make out sessions, and one confession of feelings in a restaurant. Let’s mess some things up together. That's what he had said, and she had jumped in, they had jumped in together. But what did it all really mean. Were they in a relationship? All he knew was he got butterflies every time she walked into a room, something he would never admit as a macho cop, and that these three days apart had been horrible for him. He felt bad for his team because they got the brunt of his frustration. He played it off as a lack of sleep, but he was pretty sure his team suspected it was more than that. He knew Teddy sure did.

A light knock on his door brought Owen out of his thoughts. Looking at the clock he realized it was after 2am, he had been sitting on the couch for over an hour. He was confused as to who could be knocking on his door at this hour. He crossed the apartment towards the door and peeked out the peep hole. Seeing no one there Owen cautiously opened the door. Years of being a cop made Owen suspicious of everything, but this was definitely fishy. Looking down the hall he saw a retreating figure that spun around at the sound of the door opening.

"Amelia?" he asked, noticing that was in fact who was now coming back towards him.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry, did I wake you?" she rambled. "I thought maybe when you didn't answer that you were still sleeping and I didn't want to wake to you. Sorry I'll just go." She turned as if to leave, but Owen grabbed her hand before she could go.

"You didn't wake me, don't worry," he reassured her. He pulled her by the hand inside his apartment and shut the door. As soon as the door was closed she threw herself into his arms burying her face in his neck. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and held her. He didn't know exactly what was wrong, but something must be up for her to show up at his door this late.

"Amelia," he soothed trying to meet her eyes. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I... I can't sleep." And with that she broke down into a fit of sobs. Owen held her, running his hands through her hair and whispering reassuring words. He knew that these tears had little to do with the fact that she couldn't sleep and more to do with the fact that she hasn't slept much at week and was carrying the weight of this case and all the victims on her own shoulders.

When her tears finally subsided, she pulled back and met Owen's eyes. She looked so beautiful and vulnerable, and Owen was so thankful she chose to seek comfort from him. Suddenly embarrassed at how vulnerable she was, and how she must look, she pulled away. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have come. You probably want to sleep and here I am soaking your shirt." She averted her gaze to the ground.

"No, Amelia it's fine," Owen said sincerely, urging her to look at him. "I'm glad you came to me, and that I could be here for you."

She finally met his eyes offering him a weak smile. "You know," she started. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about what would happen when I finally got you alone. When this case was done and we could pick things up where we left off. This is definitely not my how I imagined it."

He laughed at her confession, "me neither, but it doesn't matter, because this is real. Everything is not always sunshine and rainbows, and I want you to know that I will be here for all of it."

She blushed at his blunt honesty. "I want you to be here for all of it too."

He pulled her in to his arms again but this time angling his face towards hers. He captured her lips is an intimate kiss. Somehow this kiss felt more real and more meaningful than the others they had shared despite the taste of her salty tears. This was something real they were building together, and they could both feel it. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her as close as he could, pouring his feelings into the kiss. Neither wanted to pull away, but when they had to for air they simply gazed into each other’s eyes revealing in the raw emotion they saw.

"Well Doc,” he broke the tension. “As much as I would love to continue this, someone here told me she couldn’t sleep.”

Amelia laughed at his statement. “Yes, I am very tired and my staff have started complaining that I am cranky.”

“Well we best fix that then shouldn’t we?” He led her back towards his bedroom. I haven’t really been here the past few days, so you were probably the last one to sleep here,” he said awkwardly.

She noticed the clothes she had slept in still folded neatly where she had left them.

“Uh, I think you know where everything is,” Owen stammered. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said heading towards the door.”

“Wait!” Amelia exclaimed surprising herself with her voice. “Stay.”

He looked at her surprised, but didn’t protest. He was already in sweatpants and a t-shirt so he just sat down on his bed.

“Alright, you know where the bathroom is. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Amelia left to go change, leaving Owen in his bedroom. When she returned he was already under the covers eyes closed. She turned off the light and crawled in next to him. She knew this should be awkward, and she probably shouldn’t have even asked him, but it just felt right. She scooted herself back until she knew she was inches from him, this was dangerous territory. He reached his arms out and pulled her closer enveloping her in his grasp. They both sighed contently as sleep took them.

#Omelia #Owen Hunt #amelia shepherd #teddy altman #henry burton #tenry #grey's anatomy #omelia fics #omeliafics #omelia fanfiction #greys anatomy #my fan fics #Bullet Proof

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