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zepskies · 5 months

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Smoke Eater - Part 16

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Run to You” by the Pentatonix

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: Physical altercation, perilous situations, fire hazards, injuries, angst, Nick and Azazel being evil psychos.

Part 16: “Break Down the Gates”

The holiday couldn’t last forever. Eventually, you had to go back to work.

Dean didn’t like it, and neither did you. Hell, even Sam had tried to find an opening in the district attorney’s office for you. Unfortunately, all of the positions you were remotely qualified for were filled.

And as your bills had to get paid, it meant you had to take Betsy all the way up to the 22nd floor of the Savage & Co. building on a Monday morning.

Dean was already calling you.

You couldn’t answer until you got off the elevator and away from its shitty reception, but you let out a sigh before you called him back.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” Dean asked.

“I’m good. I just got to my office,” you replied. I was also fine 20 minutes ago on the road.

You had to be patient though. You knew he was worried about you, now for more than one good reason.

“Good. Got your taser all charged up?”

“Yep, it’s in my purse,” you said. You closed the door to your office and locked it. “Which is going in my desk. You’re at the station?”

“Yeah, having my coffee right now.”

“Okay, tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do,” said Dean. “You need anything, just call me. If you can’t get ahold of me, call Cas, or Sam, or even my dad.”

“I promise I will,” you replied. “I have to get to work here, but I hope you have a good day. And be safe.”

“That I will,” he promised in turn. “You too, baby.”

You smiled.

Once you hung up with Dean and got settled at your desk, you started by powering through your work emails. All too soon, however, there was a knock at your door. You fought against the tremor of unease that ran up your spine.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“It’s Marv,” replied your coworker, through the door. “Since when do you lock yourself in your office?”

You let out a breath and smiled. You got up and went to let him in. “I’ve found that people are less likely to interrupt me when they can’t get in.”

When the door opened, Marv gave you a look of begrudging acceptance.

“I hear ya,” he said. The man was a hermit himself, so if anyone was going to understand your self-barricading, it was Marv.

He handed you a hard-copy manilla envelope containing his monthly report, because he also had a disdain for email.

“Why don’t you give this to Nick yourself?” you asked with a frown.

Marv held up placating hands. “Because he’s an ass, and I can only deal with so much idiocy in my life.”

“Then give it to Josh! He’s the new Senior Manager,” you pointed out.

“Josh kisses Nick’s ass. Therefore, he’s become an even bigger idiot,” Marv replied. “I’m telling you, my constitution just can’t bear it.”

You rolled your eyes and took the folder from him. “All right, get outta here. I’ll deal with this.”

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head. He soon left to return to his hole of an office. You’d only been in there once. It had been stacked to high heaven with books and loose papers. You didn’t know how the man functioned, but you assumed it was equal parts caffeine and Prozac.

So you took the report, and you went up to the 30th floor for the first time in months.

You went down the hall to Josh’s office first, but you could hear from the other side of the closed door that he was locked in a meeting with one of the more difficult clients.

You could come back later, or just drop the folder off with Nick’s assistant.

You went back down the hall and found that Nick’s office door was cracked open, but you weren’t about to go in, even just to deliver a simple report. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone enter his office.

His assistant was out on a break, it seemed, so you couldn’t just give it to her. You contemplated leaving it on her desk with a note. But that’s when you heard the voices coming from within the office.

“As you know, my father’s back in town,” you heard Nick say. You inched closer to the door and cautiously peeked through the three inches of space in the doorway. There was another man inside, slightly taller than Nick, but leaner. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a plaid shirt. His long arms were crossed as he listened.

You could tell by the way he stood, however, that this wasn’t an associate from one of their accounts. He didn’t look like a businessman or a lawyer. The way he stood was sharper, more calculated even in his laxness.

Your brain caught up with the conversation as Nick continued to speak.

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Keep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.”

“Together, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?” the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.

Your gaze widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!

“Dad agrees with me. The guy’s not getting the hint, so we’ll need to remind him who really makes the rules,” Nick said.

You blinked in shock. Holy shit…Nick’s father is Azazel.

You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The men’s heads began to turn, but you did as well—away from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.

Your heart pounded while you searched for a way out of the hallway, out of plain sight. You found the nearest bathroom and went into the women’s. It seemed empty, at least.

There you rushed into one of the stalls and locked it. You realized that you had your phone in your pocket, and you took it out with trembling hands. Your thumb hovered over Dean’s name as panicked breaths escaped you.

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

“He’s Nick’s father,” you hissed. Trying to contain yourself and speak quietly was not easy. “I met him once at a company networking event, like a month after I got hired. Daniel Savage. He built Savage & Co. from the ground up. But he handed off the reigns to Nick years ago.”

It seemed to take John a moment to compute on that one, but he eventually replied.

“You’re at the office now?” John asked.

“Uh, yeah!” you replied testily. “I’m hiding out in a bathroom stall.”

“Okay, take it slow, all right?” he said. “You’re gonna go back to your office, calm. Like you didn’t just hear what you heard. You’re gonna take an early lunch, and you’re gonna come straight to the precinct for me. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Okay. I need to call Dean,” you said.

“I’ll fill him in. Just focus on getting out of there,” John said.

You agreed, but you still felt shaky when you ended the call. No one had entered the bathroom, and it had been a few minutes already, so you chanced stepping out of the stall and into the hallway. That too was empty.

You sucked in another steadying breath. This time you went down the stairs to get back to your office. It felt unusually warm in the stairwell. Hot enough that you actually started to sweat on the way down to the 22nd floor.

Damn, did the AC break or something?

You made it back to your office, though when you opened the door, you were unable to be relieved. Nick sat in your chair at your desk. He gave you a smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get out,” you snapped. You had no patience for another tête-à-tête with him today; especially after what you just saw.

And it hit you then. You were a witness.

You eyed Nick more warily. He had one of his gold golf clubs in his hand, and he leaned on it as he stood. He set up a putter’s stance next to your desk and hit a golf ball with a gentle swing. The ball rolled into your flat shoe.

“I want to go over that report you brought upstairs,” he said.

You shook your head and went cautiously over to your desk. Your purse was inside (you were kicking yourself for not taking it with you upstairs). Nick was too close to your desk for comfort, until he moved to retrieve his golf ball. It allowed you to move farther into the room.

“Anything you want to discuss can be done via email. Right now, I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” you lied. Your gaze was off the man for maybe a few seconds while you grabbed your purse from inside the desk. Another realization hit you in that moment.

How did he know it was me who brought the report?

By the time you looked up, Nick was shutting the door to your office. He tilted his head at you with a darker edge to his smile.

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he said.

You steeled yourself with a breath. You felt inside your purse, and your hand wrapped around your taser. You pulled it out and switched it on, pointing it towards him.

“Step away from the door or I’ll fry your ass,” you threatened. It lost its effect somewhat, with the way your hand was shaking, but it was a threat, nonetheless.

Nick raised his brows at you. He still had his golf club in hand. His movements were slow as he stepped away from the door, and closer towards you.

“Sure you know how to work that thing?” he teased with a shrug of his shoulders. “If I were you, I’d take a breath. Relax a bit. Come sit on my knee.”

That last bit was teasing, despite the way he eyed you, even now with a shade of desire. The kind that claimed and stole in its taking. It made you want to spit in his face.

“You’re a bastard,” you replied. “Turns out, the bastard apple doesn’t fall far from the bastard tree.”

“Watch it,” Nick warned. You saw the dangerous edge in his blue eyes. “That’s my dad you’re talking about.”

He swung the club at your head.

You managed to duck, yelping as it crashed into a lamp instead. You tried to run for the door, but that was when Nick grabbed you by the hair and nearly yanked the hairclip right out.

A short scream escaped your lips as you grabbed for his wrist. He shoved you hard into the wall, where you lost your footing and fell. Your head cracked against the accent table that once held the lamp, and your vision blurred on the way down. Glass crackled under your arm and bit into your cheek.

A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It must’ve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nick’s eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.

But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.

It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.

On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nick’s ribs with your taser. His hands fell away from you and he went down like an elephant, jolting and writhing on the ground. You gasped for breath above him while you realized what you’d just done. You tilted your head down at him.

No, you weren’t done.

You grabbed his golf club with your free hand. When he tried to reach for your ankle, you jammed the heavy club into his hand until he shouted in pain. For every moment of frustration, anxiety, and fear this man had caused you, you gave it back to him with one heavy swing of that club into his stomach. (And maybe one more for good measure.)

He doubled over, groaning, coughing a bit of blood. You tossed the golf club and grabbed your purse with a shaking hand. You left him where he laid.

As soon as you open the door, however, you were pushed back by the cloud of incoming smoke. You coughed and squinted against it, but your eyes widened again when you realized what was happening.

The building was on fire.

For some reason the alarms weren’t going off, but it was clear to see what was in front of you. Smoke was clogging the halls. People were rushing out of their offices for the stairwell. You couldn’t help glancing back at Nick; he was slowly pulling himself to his feet.

Part of you knew he might not make it if you left him, but when he looked up at you, with pure hatred, your fear overrode any mercy that might’ve made you turn around.

So you fled for the stairwell behind the small crowd. There were flames making their way down along with the smoke. That was all right, because you all were running in the opposite direction.

You had to blink a drop of blood out of your eyes, and you raised a shaky hand to a cut above your brow, which was also tender to the touch. You were bleeding, clearly, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You were just trying your best not to get pushed or trampled while you hastened down several floors.

The signs pointed to Floor 10 when you felt a buzzing in your pocket. It was your phone, you realized. You were about to fish it out of your pocket, but you were forced to stop short on the stairs, along with everyone else.

The flames were coming from the floor below as well, blocking your exit.

Once again, Dean frowned while checking his phone. You still hadn’t answered his text from an hour ago. Benny came to sit beside him on the couch in the firehouse common room.

“What’s got you spacin’ out?” Benny asked, noting his friend’s mood.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But I’ve got a bad feeling, Benny.”

Benny’s brows furrowed. “Why, what’s wrong?”

Before Dean could answer, his phone rang in his hand. He perked up to answer it, until he realized it was his dad calling. He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean greeted.

“Thanks to your girl, we know who Azazel is,” John said. “Daniel Savage. Nick is his son.”

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach; his shock was followed swiftly by worry.

“What? How’d she find that out?”

“She called me this morning. I told her to come straight to the precinct, but she’s not here yet. That was an hour ago,” John said gravely.

Dean’s eyes widened.

And then the alarm sounded overhead. Over the intercom the dispatcher reported a working fire at a commercial building. The address was the same as your work building: Savage & Co.

“Is that you?” John asked, once the intercom message was finished.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He was already up and out of the firehouse, getting his turnout gear on with the phone pressed to his ear. His heart was hammering in his chest, but his tone was rock steady.

“If she’s still in that building, I’m gonna find her.”

Firehouses 18 and 20 had already arrived by the time Firehouse 25 got to the scene of the Savage & Co. building. The flames were sky-high, consuming from the top and the bottom. Just by looking at it, Dean thought there had to have been at least two points of origin (where the fire was started). He doubted this was an accident.

“Okay, 25,” Chief Singer said to the entire Truck 79 and Rescue Squad crew. “House 20 got here first, so Chief Sanderson’s calling the shots. He requested our help in clearing the first five floors. Their crew is already on floors 30 through 20. House 18 has the middle.”

Dean went up to Bobby and spoke just loud enough for him to hear. He filled him in on what John had just told him about Azazel, and that you were most likely somewhere in the building.

“She’s in there, Chief. I have to find her,” Dean said.

Bobby saw the desperation in the younger man’s eyes, and he sympathized. “Have you tried calling her again?”

“She’s not answering,” Dean replied. “If he found out what she knows, he could be after her. That means she could be somewhere near the top.”

“Or she’s in the middle. Or she’s already out of the building,” Bobby reasoned. He quelled Dean’s protest with a raised hand. It then fell on the younger man’s shoulder. “I understand, son. But I’ve got a protocol to follow, and so do you, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s lips pressed together. He knew his rank and his responsibility, but you were in danger. You could already be hurt, or trapped, or…

Dean rounded up Truck 79 with swift, barking orders. After donning their helmets and masks, his and Benny’s team made their way inside. The first floor was wall to wall rolling flames. The heat was nearly overwhelming, like entering the gates of hell.

There was no moving safely through the first floor, so they had to move on to the closest stairwell and try to make it up to the second. Dean held Benny back for a moment.

“I’m going up! Stick with the guys,” Dean said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony inside the stairwell.

Benny frowned. “What’re you doin’? You heard the Chief!”

Dean shook his head. He knew he was about to defy a direct order, but he couldn’t shake the gut feeling that you were still in the building somewhere.

“I’ve gotta find her,” he said.

“You think I don’t want to find Andréa?” Benny said. “She hasn’t answered my calls either. They could be anywhere, Dean!”

Dean clasped his friend’s shoulder. “You’re making my point, man.”

And he took off up the stairs before Benny could stop him.

“Damn it, Dean!” Benny shouted after him.

“Where’s he going?” Jack asked. He and Gordon were the only ones to hang back while the rest of their crew followed their orders and searched the second floor, not realizing that their Lieutenant was no longer with them.

“To go be an idiot,” Benny growled. But he wasted no more time. He followed Dean up the stairwell.

Gordon shared a quick look with Jack before he started his own climb up the stairs.

“You can follow protocol, or you can back up the Lieutenant,” Gordon called down.

In that moment, Jack made a decision. He followed Gordon and Benny.

You had to follow the rest of the crowd after you all couldn’t make it down the rest of the stairs safely. It landed you somewhere on the 10th floor, where the group scattered. Your head was aching, your heart pounded in your ears, and you didn’t know where to go.

You fled for the stairwell on the other side of the building, and in turning a corner, you smacked right into Andréa. You gasped when you caught hold of each other.

“Oh my God!” she cried, and she grabbed you into a hug. “Are you okay? Why’re you bleeding?”

“Catch up later,” you choked out. It was so hard to breathe; you were coughing every few moments.

She looked on you worriedly and let out a cough herself. “Come on.”

She pulled you along with her by the arm. You joined a smaller group that were heading for the opposite stairwell. Unfortunately, not all of you would make it there.

A piece of the weakened ceiling crumbled and fell in a fiery heap. Andréa had been just a couple steps in front of you, and it meant you saw it before she did. You pushed her forward so she would make it across. You were forced to stop short and protect your face from the embers.

You nearly tripped and fell back, but you used the wall to steady yourself. You looked up at the sound of Andréa calling your name. You found her terrified face. There was now a wall of fire separating you from her and the rest of the group.

“Keep going!” you coughed. “I’ll find another way.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” she called back. She pushed away the man that tried to urge her on towards the stairwell.

“Go!” you shouted, even though it raked across your throat. You forced yourself to straighten up and turn away from her. The only chance you had was if there was a way around this hallway that still led to the stairs.

Oh shit, you gasped when you turned the corner. The fire was only getting worse. The building was being consumed, and you almost couldn’t see past a few feet in front of you with all the smoke. It stung in your eyes and clogged your throat.

You stumbled along until you found a room that you could escape into. It was another restroom. The fire hadn’t yet reached inside the women’s bathroom on this floor; maybe you could wait it out like you would a tornado.

Okay, clearly I’m fucking delirious, you thought. You huddled in a corner under the sink and tried and failed to take even breaths without coughing or panicking. You pulled out your phone with shaking hands and tried once again to call Dean. The reception was absolute shit in the entire building now.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Tears slipped down your cheeks.

But despite your dismayed thoughts, he actually answered.

“Hey! Baby, are you there?!”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You clutched at the phone. “Dean!”

You coughed, and you realized smoke was rising under the bathroom door now. The fire would spread here soon enough.

“Where are you? I’m here at your building!”

“Bathroom, 10th floor!” you managed to reply. “I couldn’t get out.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming right now,” he said. “Stay put for me.”

“Yeah,” you said, with a shaky breath. You couldn’t exactly leave. “Dean, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Where’s…r—oom?”

He was glitching in and out. You gripped the phone tighter in panic. “Dean?”

“Can…ear m…”

“Dean!” Your tears fell anew. You had another reason to struggle for breath as you tried to reach him.

You slid out from under the sink to try and get better reception, but it was no use. The call failed.

“Shit!” You nearly tossed your cell across the room out of sheer frustration.

Then you paced back and forth, trying to think of what to do. Should you leave your momentary shelter to go and find him, or would that just run the risk of him never finding you.

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to do.

God, I’m so fucking screwed…

You slumped against the wall and tried to stifle your coughing, all while you also tried (and failed) to form some kind of a plan.

Until the bathroom door bursting open startled a scream out of you. Was the fire coming in?!

The move did allow more smoke to infiltrate the bathroom, but instead of the fire, you saw a firefighter in all his gear. This time, it did include the helmet.

“Fire Department!” he called out.

You would know that voice anywhere. And even through the mask, you recognized the man’s eyes when he went to you.

“Dean,” you sobbed. It was halted only by a series of lung-wracking coughs and wheezing. He quickly took his helmet and mask off so he could fit the mask over your soot-covered face.

“It’s okay, deep breaths. I gotcha, baby, just breathe,” Dean encouraged. His arm was around your waist, holding you close while the oxygen finally allowed you to take in slower breaths and relax against him.

“Okay, let’s get out of here, huh?” he said. He put his helmet back on.

You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Don’t you need the mask?”

You were still having trouble breathing, coughing on every other word. Dean shook his head.

“You need it more right now,” he said.

You realized that Benny was holding the bathroom door open.

“We gotta go!” he said.

“Benny, Andréa was here,” you said. His eyes widened behind his mask. “She got out, I think. She made it to the west stairwell.”

“Okay, yeah, because no one’s getting out the east wing,” Gordon said. You noted him standing just behind Benny, with Jack in tow.

“There’s a block,” you said, pointing just ahead where you saw the pile of debris. More parts of the ceiling had crumbled around it, making it a fiery minefield. There was no other way around it at this point—only through it.

Gordon and Jack went through first, followed by Benny. With their jackets and protective gear, they were able to jump through like a flaming hoop. And they would be able to help catch you and Dean from the other side.

“Okay, you ready?” Dean asked.

“If I say no?” you said, holding onto him tighter. His hand soothed over your hair. You’d lost your clip a long time ago (along with your purse), so your hair was probably wild and frizzy and covered in soot, along with the rest of you.

Dean grinned down at you. “Then I’d say, don’t you worry. I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Even now, through your fear, he could make you smile. You steeled yourself and took a breath. You could hear it so clearly with the mask on. That, and your own heartbeat.

He counted down to three, and on the last beat, Dean covered your head and shoulders and ran with you under the flame-covered ceiling. He managed to help you jump over the fiery debris on the ground. On both of your heavy landings, a wooden support beam fell.

There was a shout from Benny, but it was too late. All Dean could do was cover you. The beam broke over his back and knocked his helmet clean off. He took you with him when he fell.

Your scream rang out—half at the fall, but mostly for Dean. It was Benny who dragged you and Dean out first. Gordon and Jack took over hefting an unconscious Dean, while Benny hauled you up onto your feet and led you to the west stairwell.

You passed out just as you felt fresh air hit the mask.

You woke to bright, fluorescent lighting that made you wince. An oxygen mask covered your mouth and nose and was strapped around your head. You made a sound of discomfort and tried to take it off, but a hand stilled yours.

“Don’t.”

Eileen’s concerned face came into view. You were confused, though happy to see her.

“You’re in the hospital,” she said. When you tried to speak, she held up a finger to you. Wait, said her eyes.

She took out her phone from her jean pocket to text someone.

“Sam is coming,” she told you, before she drew closer to sooth a hand up and down your arm. You felt tears in your eyes at just that small comfort.

They fell in earnest when Sam entered your hospital room. His eyes held the concern of a friend and a brother as he approached on your other side.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You wheezed a breath and rasped, “Water.”

Sam nodded and grabbed you a plastic cup filled with cold water. It felt like literal heaven once the mask was off and you were able to drink. He helped you while Eileen held the mask away from your face.

After you’d had all you could drink, he took the cup and Eileen placed the mask back over your face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked, after clearing your throat. You still sounded like a chain smoker, and your head was pounding. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” Sam said, with a sigh. But when he didn’t offer anything more, you raised expectant brows at him.

“What else?” you said. Your tone told him not to skimp on any more details.

Sam’s gaze met yours. “The beam burned through his jacket, on his back. It hit his head. They…had to perform a minor surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain, but he’s stable in recovery now.”

He was quick to add on that last bit when you began to crumble. Eileen encouraged you to breathe through your tears. The oxygen could only do half the battle if you didn’t breathe properly.

“I want to see him,” you said.

Sam frowned and held up a placating hand. “I don’t think that’s—”

You ignored him and tried to sit up. With or without his approval, you were getting out of this bed.

“Okay, you’re not listening,” Sam sighed, though he immediately went to help you. He shot Eileen an imploring look over your head.

She got the hint and helped you on her side. Together they helped you stand while you removed the mask, then the heart monitor and other wires taped to your torso.

The Emergency Department team had left your pants on, thank goodness, but they’d clipped through your blouse and bra. So the paper gown was mostly to cover your top half like a light blue poncho. It was a bit airy in the back, but Eileen held it closed for you. Right now, you didn’t care much about your modesty. You were also walking around the hospital barefooted.

At least Dean was on the same floor. It was just a long walk down the hall.

“Can you call Benny and ask how Andréa’s doing?” you asked, coughing a bit.

Sam eyed you in thinly veiled concern, but he agreed. The last he’d heard from Benny was that Andréa had been cleared by the paramedics with minor smoke inhalation. You were clearly worse.

Sam held you upright when you finally saw Dean. He had to guide you into a chair beside Dean’s bed, where he slept on his side. On his back was a large stretch of white gauze across his upper back, from nearly shoulder to side at an angle.

“The doctor said they’re only second-degree burns. It looks worse than it is,” Sam said quietly.

Eileen rubbed your back in the hopes that you’d stop crying.

You could only focus on the gauze, the smaller nicks and burns around Dean’s face, the bandage and thick gauze near his temple where they’d apparently had to drill into his skull. He also wore an oxygen mask, because if all that wasn’t enough, you were sure “smoke inhalation” was on the list, thanks to the way he’d given you his SCBA mask.

Gently, very gently, you took his hand. Your thumb swept over the back of it, over each knuckle.

“Did they say when he’d wake up?” you asked. You rubbed at your aching stomach. Does smoke inhalation cause nausea too?

Your chest was also tight. You’d head back to your room sooner or later and get the oxygen mask back on.

Before Sam could reply, you heard a groan below. You looked down at Dean with wide-eyed hope. It took a moment, but his eyes slid open. They were unfocused and dark, until they found your face.

You smiled tearfully. “Hey, baby.”

Your free hand caressed his cheek. His eyes briefly closed at your touch. When he realized you were holding his hand, he squeezed a bit. That was enough for you.

Just then, however, you had to let go of his hand. Whatever was left in your stomach from this morning seemed to be revolting. You turned your head quick to throw up onto the hospital floor.

Both Sam and Eileen called your name when you slid out of your chair and onto the floor. You blinked tears out of your eyes…or actually, it was black spots encroaching on your vision.

Sam pushed the chair out of his way to get to you. He gathered you into his arms and shouted for a doctor while Eileen went for the emergency button on Dean’s hospital bed.

The last thing you saw was Dean’s worried face out of the corner of your eye, before the blackness took you.

Dean could barely speak behind his oxygen mask, but Sam saw his worry as the nurses carried you away in a stretcher with Eileen following close behind. Sam crouched in front of his brother and clasped his hand.

“She’ll be okay, I promise. I’m gonna look out for both of you,” Sam said. “Right now, you need to sleep.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. In that small gesture, Sam also saw his stubbornness. He almost smiled. You and Dean were a match made.

“Just rest, Dean. I’m going now to check on her, but not until you close your eyes,” Sam said. It took another stubborn minute, but Dean eventually relaxed as well as he was able. His eyes closed as he fell back under the pull of medication and painkillers.

“How’s he doing?” came the voice of their father in the doorway. Sam’s expression morphed from gentle to austere. His head turned towards his father.

“How does he look like he’s doing?” Sam asked. “He had a burning ceiling fall on him. He has the mother of all concussions, and he just saw his girlfriend collapse.”

John was quiet, in contrast to his youngest son’s ire. He stepped into the room and watched his eldest. Sam saw the man’s age in the lines around his eyes, in his slow gait when he raised a gentle hand to comb through Dean’s greasy hair, mindful of his injuries.

“This shouldn’t have fucking happened,” said John. His voice was tired and gruff. Sam knew what the weight of guilt looked like, but what he didn’t yet see was regret. If John hadn’t kept digging, digging, Azazel wouldn’t have taken it this far.

Okay, Sam didn’t yet have proof that Azazel burned down the Savage & Co. building…but he didn’t believe in coincidences.

“No,” Sam said. “It shouldn’t have.”

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick shouted.

He was still dusted with soot and sporting some cracked ribs from the day’s activities. He’d stumbled into his father’s house, taken a bottle of bourbon from the man’s shelf and started drinking straight from the crystal glass.

Daniel eyed him coolly from the balcony, smoking a cigar. “Whatever do you mean, son?”

Nick was furious. He stomped over, not caring how expensive liquor was splashing on him.

“Why’d you burn the whole damn building?” he demanded to know. “I could’ve died!”

“Alistair got you out, didn’t he?” Daniel pointed towards his son with the hand that held his cigar. “See, unlike you, I think ahead.”

“I’m serious,” Nick hissed. “Our company is still important—”

“My company,” Daniel interjected, “is not that building. However, the building itself was a liability.”

Nick’s brows knit together in confusion and anger. “What the hell’re you talking about?”

Daniel took a long drag of his cigar, puffing in Nick’s face. The latter coughed. As if he hadn’t had enough smoke in his lungs today.

“Don’t you see?” Daniel asked, with a sigh that also said he wondered how he could’ve produced such a moron. “It puts distance between you and ‘Azazel’ if you’re also a victim of his threats. It destroys any physical evidence of me having been there, along with any files you would’ve eventually had to turn over to the police and the FBI.”

Nick let that idea sink into his brain. He realized that it did make sense…but he deflated as something else occurred to him.

“Uh…see, that would’ve worked, but, we have a problem,” Nick scratched his head. “Someone knows who you really are.”

By the time Nick finished explaining about you, and what you’d overheard, Daniel’s sharp gaze managed to strike fear into Nick’s heart.

Yet to his surprise, the other man’s temper didn’t blow. Daniel kept it all inside as he continued to smoke. Cigars tended to pacify him better than cigarettes.

His lips twitched at a humorless smile. “Well, that is a problem.”

“But she probably died in the fire, so we’re good,” Nick shrugged.

“No, I doubt she did,” Daniel sighed. “You’re not that lucky.”

He rolled his shoulders. Then he grabbed Nick’s arm and twisted, until his was crying out and pinned to the nearest wall. Daniel threatened to put out his cigar in the soft underbelly of the arm he held.

Nick looked up at his father with wide, pleading eyes.

“Like everything else, that girl is a problem I’m going to fix,” Daniel said. “Along with the whole Winchester brood.”

AN: 🫣 Don't hate me lol. It gets better for them, I promise. But we have a few more chapters left to go and a few more twists in store!

Next Time:

The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.

Sam wasn’t surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.

Keep Reading: PART 17

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Break Down the Gates #Smoke Eater #Part 16 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #john winchester #sam winchester #eileen leahy #zepskies writes

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ninyard · 25 days

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are u an Aaron Stan? If so, would u mind sharing ur Aaron hcs?

I don’t have many but what I do have is:

- Once Aaron actually starts trying in his sessions with Betsy, a few months or maybe a year in, he says something that really shakes Andrew to his core. Maybe something about how it made him feel to walk into that room in Nicky’s house and see what he saw, how for just a moment it felt like he was looking at it happening to himself. They talk about that one right up until the end of the session, but when they get back to the dorms, it doesn’t feel right to split off and go their separate ways and pretend like nothing was said. I like to think at one point, maybe then, Andrew takes him up to the roof and listens to him talk. And Aaron does, because he’s kept it inside for so long, not even talking to Katelyn about it, because it didn’t feel like his business to share. It felt like something he couldn’t say because it did happen to Andrew, not him, and it feels selfish to say there was that tiny part of him that can’t get over seeing it because of how identical they look. Andrew gets it, because the twin thing alongside the drake thing is a touchy subject. Maybe Andrew shares a little bit back, and that’s when they actually talk to each other for the first time about ~stuff~ outside of their sessions with Betsy.

- He also cries when he hears Andrew talk about his past with Drake on the stand at his trial. Andrew doesn’t look at him, not even once, but it absolutely destroys Aaron to hear what he went through. Andrew is outside having a cigarette by the time he’s leaving, and Andrew accepts the comforting hand that squeezes his shoulder, because as much as Aaron feels like he should hug him, that’s the best he can offer.

- I’ve shared it before, but Aaron loves German music. He’s into techno music/house music, and loves a good rave.

- Aaron is a normal or angry drunk on most alcohols/spirits, but on wine he’s a bubbling baby. Two glasses of white wine and he’s crying. He doesn’t drink wine.

- Once he gets qualified and graduates med school, most of the foxes text him about their medical questions. Andrew would just text him a picture of a cut that could be infected, or a digit that could be broken, and he’ll just respond “go to the ER” or “get a cream, ur good”. He’s passionate about his job, and secretly loves that his friends and family trust him enough with their medical problems to ask him for advice. Unless it’s Nicky, because he’s a hypochondriac, so he’ll happily tell him that a simple bruise on his foot that will that will heal in a week will need to be amputated. It’s like preparation for being a Dad and having to say the same thing to his kids.

- It wasn’t a hard decision to make, but when he gets married, it’s really really difficult for him to call Andrew and asks him to be his Best Man. Katelyn is on his ass for MONTHS to just say it to Andrew, but every time he tries to pick up the phone and ask, he thinks of an excuse not to. They’re together for Christmas or Thanksgiving a couple of months before the wedding, and when Neil and Katelyn are tidying away dishes, he asks Andrew out onto the porch for a cigarette. Andrew doesn’t say much, and winds him up about it because he can tell how anxious he is to ask, but he agrees of course. It’s a huge weight off Aaron’s shoulders, but Andrew just calls him stupid when Aaron tells him he was afraid he would say no.

- He has half of a fake tooth because one got chipped during an Exy match. He is really self conscious about it even though it’s barely noticeable at all. It’s the one regret he has about having played Exy in college.

- someone made a post recently about him being allergic to some type of fruit and honestly. He seems like the type to be allergic to kiwis.

- He’s a paediatric doctor once he gets certified. He’s really good with kids, and keeps stickers in his lab coat.

- He shaves his head at one point after Andrew goes pro, mostly because people keep coming up to him on the street and asking for pictures, thinking he’s Andrew.

- He goes to the Olympics the first time Andrew plays, and he can’t help but feel hugely proud watching his brother play. It’s the time that it really sinks in for him how much his life has changed since they first met, and how much purpose Neil has given him.

#short and sweet #but a couple of Aaron hcs for you #there’s probably more but that’s all I can think of right now #I have a soft spot for him somewhere in my heart #so misunderstood #mine #Aaron minyard #aftg

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fungusgnat444 · 2 months

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It might as well be spring (1945 post war König au)

SFW, slight xenophobia (someone calls König a Gerry because this is set in 1945), non canon König, implications of size difference, implications of trauma and anxiety, mentions of war, reader gets kinda harassed a little by a customer, reader’s name is Marlina, mentions of smoking, fem reader, I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. This chapter is relatively short 2.2k words

“Hey! You listening?”, your friend asked exasperatedly as she waved her hand in front of your vacant eyes. You were daydreaming as you often did on your criminally short coffee break. After all, Bill's Diner wasn’t exactly the most enriching place to work. “Jeez, Marlina. Always off with the fairies, huh?”, she huffed, rolling her eyes at you. Betsy was a good friend but, by God, she was chatty. You often thought if she kept prattling on, her bottom jaw would end up falling right off her pretty little heart shaped face. Unfortunately for you, her jaw always manages to cling on somehow.

“Sorry Bets. You were talking about Tommy again right?” You sighed as you raised your coffee mug to your lips.

“Hey! Don’t say it like that, mopey Marli. I’m just excited, is all. He’s coming back today”, she whined as you shot her a perturbed look at the mention of the ‘fun’ little nickname she always used when she wanted to get a rise out of you.

”I know. you’ve been talking about it all week”, you chuckled weakly as she pouted at you. Boys in uniform had been coming in all day. The place was alive with their loud, cheerful chatter. The jukebox blaring, one song after the other; It Might As Well Be Spring by Dick Haymes had played more times than you could count. “… I am happy for you, Bets. I promise”, you reassured as you offered her a soft smile, patting her hand with yours. Although her chatter could get awfully repetitive, you did understand why she did it deep down. She was worried about him and for good reason. Your older brother had come home the week prior. You knew what it was like to worry yourself sick over someone; sleepless nights whenever you’d read something in the paper about the war over the shoulder of someone’s worried father as you served him coffee, waiting impatiently for the mail every Tuesday, desperately hoping another letter would come. You were just glad the war was finally over. The diner was no fun but it sure beats the monotonous work at the ammunition factory. ”… You think he’s really going to propose?”, you asked quietly as you leaned closer, a cheeky smirk washing over your face. She blushed and cast her eyes down to her lap shyly.

”He says he got me a pretty little ring from Paris”, she chuckled gleefully looking back up at you.

”Well, whatever your answer is just please, for the love of god, don’t pick those hideous lilac bridesmaid dresses you showed me. If I have to wear that I might not even show up”, you jested. She slapped you on the arm playfully as she tried her best to protest through the laughter that erupted from the two of you.

”That’s quite enough, girls. Back to work”, Bill’s gruff voice warned joylessly as he waddled past you. He was such a tubby, little grouch of a man but at least he paid well. You both stood reluctantly, rolling your eyes and groaning an annoyed ‘yes sir’.

As you tightened your pinny around your waist, you heard another groan from Betzy’s lips. “Ugh, great… More army boys”, she sighed. Your eyes followed hers out the large windows, seeing several more cars full of boisterous men pulling into the car park. You huffed as each of them bustled into the diner in their shabby green clothes. God, you were sick to death of that stupid muddy coloured fabric. A group of about five of them sat at one of your tables and whistled you over. Great… more touch starved boys for you to serve.

“Hey fellas. What can I get for you?”, You chirped with a faux-polite grin on your face.

“Coffee and apple pie all ‘round… maybe throw in your number just for me, sweetheart”, one of them jeered with a cheeky grin, making all the others burst into shameless laughter. It took every ounce of your remaining energy not to roll your eyes. You just stared back at them bemused as you jotted down their order. You knew they probably hadn’t seen a girl in ages but that didn’t stop you from fantasising about spitting in every cup of coffee you served them as each of their greedy eyes stripped you bare.

”Sorry, hon. My boyfriend came home last fortnight, so it seems you’re all out of luck”, A bare faced lie. The lie was worth it though; their greedy smirks all turning into butthurt pouts. You strutted away trying your best not to giggle. You walked behind the counter and Betsy’s eyes met yours knowingly, as you grinned. “Order up”, you said cheerily to Bill, handing him the order so he could fetch the pie.

As you returned to the table with the pie and began to pour their coffee, you noticed something quite peculiar out the window. At first the sight annoyed you but eventually your annoyance transformed to curiosity. Another man in uniform pulled into the car park, but this one was different. He was all alone. All day car after car had rolled in from the military base nearby; all packed to the brim with jolly, cocky boys in green. He was the first to arrive alone. Not even a hint of a smile decorated his face; a sad half finished cigarette hanging from his glum lips. His uniform was different too, the green was a deeper, forest green. On the shoulder of his jacket was a patch with red and white stripes; maybe a flag, you thought but a flag you weren’t familiar with. Maybe Poland? You couldn’t quite make it out. As you finished pouring the last cup of coffee the men sitting at the table all looked out the window and collectively groaned.

“Oh Great. Giant Gerry’s here”, one of them grumbled. You looked at him confused.

”Giant Gerry?”, you asked curiously. All their heads turned to you, an unwelcoming look on each of their faces.

”Yeah… that's what we call him anyway”, one of them said bitterly. “He’s built like a horse and about as talkative as one. Our lieutenant says he was some kind of double agent. He’s from… um… Belgium… or something. I don’t really remember, I don’t really care either. He’s a miserable freak”, he explained, taking a sip of his coffee.

”yeah most of the time he’ll just sit there silently watching everyone at base. Gives me the willies”, another one adds as ‘Giant Gerry’ exited his car, flicking his now spent cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with his shiny black boots. It was only when he stood that you truly understood his nickname. From where you stood his head blocked the sun like he was a great big oak tree. Now that he was out of it his car looked almost comically small; like one of the toys your little nephew would play with. You quickly looked away and retreated behind the counter to get more coffee. As the giant strode slowly to the door you poured the last cup of coffee for the men, trying your best not to stare at the way he had to duck his head to fit through the doorway. As he sat at one of the only empty booths in the place, he removed his cap, revealing a full head of curly copper locks. That’s when Betsy noticed him. Her eyes wide as she approached you.

“Jesus… Who the hell is that?” She whispered to you. Looking back at him as he pinched the bridge of his nose and slouched slightly against the table.

”I don’t know but you’re about to find out. He’s at one of your tables”, you chuckled softly with a mocking wince.

”Marli, please. You do it. He looks like he’ll eat me alive”, she said clutching your arm. Always so dramatic. You looked at her, annoyance and a hint of fear in your eyes.

”Bets, no! I- … okay fine, but you owe me big time”, you folded, as you always do. You knew that if you made her do it, you wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks. Plus you couldn’t deny your curiosity. She nodded emphatically and you went on your way to face the giant. As you approached you sighed shakily and mustered the most convincing smile you could. He was even more intimidating up close. His face was littered with scars, the biggest of which started at his clenched jaw, ploughed through his right cheek and finished after cutting through one of his thick, low eyebrows. His eyes were different, however. Big, bright blue pools, glistening in the afternoon sun as he stared out of the window; heavy lidded and gentle. Eyes that didn't belong on a scarred giant like him.

“Hello, sir. What can I get for you today?”, you ask quietly. No answer. He just kept staring out the window, his thick fluffy lashes fluttering every time he blinked. Your eyes flicked down to a badge laying against his broad chest. König. A name. Maybe that would get his attention. “Um… mister König, sir?”, you asked tentatively. Suddenly his spine straightened and his eyes snapped towards you; like a dog catching the smell of food. Now his eyes were wide and his brows were furrowed in confusion. He looked down at his name badge and back up at you, still silent. You tilted your head slightly and shifted your weight from one leg to the other. “Sir… you alright?”,

“Sorry, miss”, he said quietly as his eyes fluttered down to look at his hands resting on the table. “Most people here don’t say my name right. I was… surprised”, he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours again. You offered him a small chuckle. “Well… there’s a fella who works at the library. I think he said his parents were… Swedish..- Anyway, his name’s Björn. I figured your O was pronounced similarly… I can't remember what those dots are called… an amulet or something”, you rambled. Oh god, you were starting to sound like Betsy.

”Umlaut… An amulet is a type of necklace, no?”, he said softly, his eyes still boring into you. His voice was deep and velvety and his accent manifested itself in throaty, rolled Rs like the purrs of a kitten and long, clear vowels. Giants aren’t meant to sound like pretty little pussy cats, are they? “I’ll have to find this library, hm? I haven’t had anything good to read for months”,

”Oh… here”, you said cheerily as you leaned forward to grab a napkin from across the table. You were about to start writing on it when he spoke again.

”what are you doing?” He asked. As you turned to face him you realised that hunched slightly over the table like this you were now at his eye level, face to face and much closer. Close enough to smell his musky cologne and feel the warmth of his brutish body. He almost looked frightened, like you’d pulled a gun on him. A giant scared of a little mouse; it would almost make you giggle if he wasn’t so imposing.

“Just giving you directions… to the library”, you uttered quietly, offering him a smile. Finally his expression softened, although his body remained rigid. All he gave you was a short little hum of acknowledgment as his eyes fluttered down to the napkin. He was probably the strangest man you’d ever met. Maybe it was a European thing, you weren’t sure but his disposition was so opposite to his appearance it was honestly a little unsettling. You started to write, trying hard to ignore the unfamiliar knot forming in your stomach. “Here’s the address. It’s right across the road from the town hall so it's pretty hard to miss”, you said gently.

he smiled gently down at the napkin for a moment. “Danke, Fräulein”, he said as he slid the napkin into one of his pockets. You stared back at him confused for quite a while before he registered that you had no idea what the hell he was saying. “Oh- thanks, miss”, he stuttered as his cheeks reddened slightly. You tried your best not to laugh.

”Anyway. What can I get for you?”,

”I haven’t looked at the menu yet, my apologies”, he said with a deep chuckle. “Hmm… what do you recommend?”, he asked.

“Well, the cherry pie here is alright. I wouldn’t touch the coffee if I were you. It’s pretty awful”, you said absentmindedly.

“Water then. Hopefully that won’t ruin the pie, yes?”, you wrote down his order with a little chuckle.

”Any cream with the pie?” You asked. He nodded and off you went, pleasantly surprised by the polite giant. When you returned you were met with a smile.

As you went on with your work you couldn’t help yourself from casting curious glances at him while he ate his pie. Then suddenly one of your glances was met with the sight of an empty booth. His car wasn’t even in the car park anymore. He’d vanished like a phantom. However as you approached his booth you saw what he’d left for you. The sight almost made you faint. Three dollars lay in a neat little pile on the table with a little note. Thankyou for being so kind. König. You called over Betsy who let out a dramatic gasp at the sight. “Jeez, Marli! I guess he liked you”

those words would end up being truer than you could ever imagine.

Hope y’all enjoyed it. I’m already working on part 2. 3 American dollars in 1945 is the equivalent of about $50 today btw. Our big Austrian boy is so silly sometimes hehe. Title comes from a song called it might as well be spring by Dick Haymes. It’s pretty cute hehe

#konig #konig imagine #cod konig #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x you #cod mw2 #konig fanfiction #konig mw2 #Konig #konig fluff #sfw #1940s #au #konig au

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redcoralpot · 2 months

Note

we NEED fluff of our boy glenn !!! /nf

like the aftermath of S6 EP3, male!reader comforting glenn after finding him traumatized from an certain act after the herd (unless you know the actual event im not tryna spoil anyone here)

and a lil canon divergence? like we and glenn get to talk enid in a respectful manner

hope that's enough for you to work with !! mwamwa!

Quick practice to help me recover from writer's block!!

Left to My Own Devices - Glenn Rhee x M! Reader

Summary: After Nicholas' unfortunate demise, Glenn is alone with his thoughts, but not for long.

Warnings: Blood/gore descriptions, violence, suicide, and death.

Word Count: 1.1K

Ten hours.

Glenn had been stuck under a dumpster for ten hours. What had been a deafening amount of shuffling and groaning had slowly trickled down to a few every once and a while, though he could tell at least one walker was feasting on Nicholas.

His heart had never stopped pounding since he slid under the bin, a crude attempt at keeping his body and breathing under a tight hold, but exhaustion was starting to creep under his skin. Yet still, Glenn did not dare to relax. One squish… two squish, three– it was never ending. He doubted that Nicholas was even recognizable at this point, but he had to have known that before he put a gun to his head. Right?

On the opposite side of the dumpster, there were a pair of work boots, attached to stained jeans that covered any skin. It smelled disgusting; mud, blood, and rotting guts coming together to make an odor that was impossible to get away from. Glenn’s stomach grew uneasy, the image of his friend stained into his mind. Chances were that it was just a straggler from the main herd that had crowded the two of them before, but he couldn’t risk using his gun to get rid of it, not if the others were still within a mile.

Glenn slipped a hand into his pocket, flicking a sturdy knife open in his palm. It was sharp enough to cut the tendons of its ankles, making it an easy kill, even for someone in his state. His jaw clenched, ready to strike. However, right before he raised his knife, movement caused him to pause. It was starting to stumble away, around the dumpster. Towards Nicholas.

A thump, a gurgle, as if the walker fell on its knees in relief for the free snack. In any other situation, Glenn would have chuckled to himself. Through the crack between the asphalt and his face, he witnessed something similar; a corpse was on its side, facing him. Its eye twitched, completely limp, but it had nothing similar to the hefty shoes the other had. Sneakers, the kind every kid was required to have for gym class, only loosely hanging on to its feet. Glenn’s gaze followed as the boots firmly kicked the walker away from him, a deep grunt coming from the perpetrator.

“Huh,” they said, crouching beside Nicholas’ body, “this doesn’t look good.”

He recognized that voice, back from Alexandria. Glenn briefly considered the prospect that this was a dream at best, a hallucination caused by exhaustion at worst. He ultimately decided against it.

Glenn knew his voice was rough from dehydration and disuse, “Hello?”

“Rhee, is that you?” You perked up.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

You hissed, reaching a hand out for him to take, “What the fuck happened? Everyone thought you were dead!”

“There was a herd and Nicholas…” Glenn trailed off, bile rising in his throat. He couldn’t look at you, choosing instead to stumble onto his feet on his own.

“Got caught?”

“Nah, something else.”

You eyed the gun besides his remains, a sense of understanding settling over your face, “Do you need to sit down?”

“We need to get away from here– did everyone else make it back?”

“Not that I know of,” you hesitated, “but Alexandria was attacked while you were gone, by Wolves. I don’t recall seeing David, Annie, or Sturgess come back, and Betsy is in shock.”

Glenn bit his cheek, “Sturgess didn’t make it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but a creaking noise behind you made your head whip around. Perhaps instinctively, you moved your body in front of him as you scanned the area. Two dark eyes were peeking from around the corner, wide and scared, wisps of brown hair falling from the girl’s ponytail. Though your muscles were still tense, you lowered your weapon, clicking your tongue against your teeth.

“Enid.”

“Alexandria isn’t safe,” she whispered.

You shook your head, “So you followed me? That was at least ten times more unsafe than whatever went down back there.”

“I could’ve handled myself!”

“You’re thirteen or something, you can’t.”

“I’m sixteen–”

Glenn finally spoke up, “Being inside a walled community is always safer than going on your own.”

You patted his back, “We’re going to Alexandria and you’re coming with us.”

Enid seemed to know better than to argue, instead choosing to peel the gun out of Nicholas’ hands. The three of you set off, slipping through a hole in the wire fence, flies buzzing off of a familiar face. A stained piece of paper was laid inches from his fingers, the blood spread onto it dried into a crusty brown. You blocked the view from the other two, but Glenn was too observant for his own good at times. Suddenly, the bags under his eyes seemed more sunken, and he looked like a shell of the energetic Glenn you grew close to after the farm burned down.

“Do you need some food?” you suggested, trying to keep his attention.

“I honestly don’t think my stomach can handle it, man.”

You peered at his pale face, “Well, the offer is always up; I stole some chocolate chip granola bars from a lovely bald man.”

“Morgan? He’s not even bald.” That got the tip of Glenn’s mouth to quirk upward.

“I can see his scalp shining from a mile away, don’t lie.”

Enid rolled her eyes, “There’s a difference between being bald and having a buzzcut.”

“Please, there’s a centimeter of a difference!”

“You stink.”

You shrugged, a piece of human intestines making a bloody trail behind you, “I had to blend in somehow.”

Her nose scrunched up, and a reminder of the predicament they were in made Glenn grimace. His limbs were starting to feel heavy, the sides of his vision fading in and out, his stomach gurgling– Glenn didn’t know how much longer he could keep going. He was not about to give up, unlike Nicholas, never like Nicholas. Nicholas whose body pushed them both to their deaths knowing only one would actually suffer from it– until there was a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. A spark of anger was the only thing he could muster up before an immense sadness washed it away. Your hands were calloused, firm, from being one of the most hardworking men in the community Glenn knew, constantly repairing the wall or training the incapable.

While you were here, it would be okay. If anything at all, nowadays, Glenn could put his faith in that with full certainty.

Want to join the taglist?

@cannabrisano

#x male reader #male reader #lgbtq #gay #male y/n #the walking dead #twd #glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee #glenn twd #glenn rhee x male reader #twd x reader

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louismoncher · 3 months

Text

100 unforgettable movie scenes: Robert de Niro as Travis Bickle & Cybill Shepherd as Betsy in TAXI DRIVER (1976)

— Via Characters on the Couch: The more Travis talks to Betsy, the more disturbed we see his obsessive fantasy is. Yes, Travis’ arrogance covers deep insecurity. But, Betsy looks hypnotized. When he asks her if she felt it too, she says: “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you. You remind me of Kris Kristofferson, ‘piece of truth, piece of fiction, a walking contradiction.” He has no idea who this Kris Kristofferson is.

#taxi driver #martin scorsese #robert de niro #cybill shepherd #filmedit #moviegifs #filmgifs #userbbelcher #dailyflicks #cinematicsource #cinematv #bynisa #moviescenes #junkfoodcinemas #usersakshi #userrobin #usernara

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flwrbo · 10 months

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thinking about being phillip graves’ sweet next door neighbor... you don’t know too much about the older man but you do know he’s gone practically half the year. you don’t ask questions though. you meet him one day when it’s raining hard out, and you’re struggling to bring in all of your groceries in on one trip, not wanting to be in the downpour any longer than you have to. he scares you at first , rushing to your side when you nearly drop your milk on the floor. “sorry, darlin’ , didn’t mean to spook you,” he supports the bags under your hand, looking down at you with his grey-blue eyes. you nearly drop them again when you notice how handsome he is up close.

you stammer over “thank you”s , graciously accepting his help when he lifts the bags from your hands seamlessly, ignoring your pleas to let you carry something. “just worry about getting your pretty self into the house, i wouldn’t want you comin’ down with a cold.”

you invite him in for some warm tea, sweetly demanding you pay him back for his kindness. “what were you even doing out there in that rain? that was perfect timing,” the kettle whistles behind you, and you begin to assemble the drink.

the kind stranger sends you a handsome smile, running a hand through his damp hair. “i’ve got a rowdy girl who likes to run out in the rain. betsy,” he sucks his teeth and let out a chuckle. “my golden retriever. i was makin’ sure the coast was clear before i let her run about and imagine my surprise when i see my sweet neighbor wrangling seven grocery bags at once,”

bashfulness creeps over your cheeks and you let out a small laugh. “my knight in shining armor,” the mug slides over your counter.

he sticks a hand out at you to shake, and introduces himself. you do the same in kind. he can’t help but notice how soft your hands are.

“it’s wonderful to meet you.”

#<3.p.g #<3.phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #<3.fluff

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dyke-ulaura · 4 months

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It’s so important to me that Charlotte cares about what’s happening with the AIDS crisis and its coverage before Marvin and Whizzer get sick. Before it directly affects her. Yes she is fighting for them, but also because that’s just who she is, reading whatever medical journals she can for any information they may give.

And I guess because of this, I don’t really like the changes made to Something Bad Is Happening for the revival. In both Falsettoland and the obc Falsettos production, Charlotte and Cordelia are both on stage for the entire song - not just Charlotte. While Charlotte desperately searches for any answers on the mysterious disease, Cordelia trials new recipes (presumably for the bar mitzvah).

And I think this really exemplified the conflict Charlotte was facing, how completely oblivious the rest of the world seemed to what was happening and how isolated she must have felt. When she does notice Charlotte’s mood, Cordelia assumes she’s sick because of something she cooked, and then goes back to the kitchen where she cries “woe is me” until Charlotte forces her to look at the magazine because people are dying. And I think the clear frustration in Charlotte’s expression and the look of absolute shock Cordelia shows as the realisation finally sinks in are incredibly powerful.

In the revival Cordelia stays with Charlotte and is much more attentive to what she’s saying, she picks up the magazine herself. And this - while great for Cordelia’s character - kind of diminishes Charlotte’s struggle and the idea that she’s been fighting this alone because nobody else cares. And how could they? There’s very little information available even to Charlotte. Not to say Tracy Thoms and Betsy Wolfe don’t do an amazing job, this scene is still very powerful as the turning point of the show.

Anyway Charlotte is just incredibly important to me as a dyke in medicine, the world needs more doctors like her.

#i have so much more I want to say comparing Charlotte to the rest of the cast but this was getting too long #anyway she’s incredibly strong and amazing and i love her #falsettos #charlotte falsettos

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cardinalcringe · 3 months

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(And in case you don’t have a NYT subscription, here they all are):

“We don’t take an oath to a country. We don’t take an oath to a tribe. We don’t take an oath to a king or a queen, or to a tyrant or a dictator. And we don’t take an oath to a wannabe dictator.” - Mark Milley

“The president has very little understanding of what it means to be in the military, to fight ethically or to be governed by a uniform set of rules and practices.” - Richard Spencer

“President trump and other officials have repeatedly compromised our principles in pursuit of partisan advantage and personal gain.” - HR McMaster

“Donald trump is the first president in my lifetime who does not try to unite the American people- does not even pretend to try. Instead, he tries to divide us. We are witnessing the consequences of three years of this deliberate effort.” - James Mattis

“ I have a lot of concerns about Donald trump. I have said that he’s a threat to democracy.” - Mark Esper

“ a person who admires autocrats and murderers dictators. A person who has nothing but contempt for our democratic institutions, our Constitution, and the rule of law.”- John Kelly

“ I think the events of the capital, however, they occurred, were shocking. And it was something that, as I mentioned in my statement, I cannot put aside.”- Elaine Chao

“Unfortunately, the actions and rhetoric following the election, especially during this past week, threaten to tarnish these and other historical legacies of this administration. The attacks on the Capital were an assault on our democracy, and on the tradition of peaceful transitions of power of the United States of America, brought to the world.”- Alex Azar

“Moron.” - Rex Tillerson (re: trump, repeatedly)

“It’s more than just a bunch of papers and what big deal is this and so forth. Lives can be lost.” - Dan Coats

“I didn’t feel he did what he needed to do to stop what was happening.” -Betsy DeVos (a stupid bitch overall, but still right)

“It will always be, ‘Oh, yeah, you work for the guy who tried to overtake the government.’” - Mick Mulvaney

“The fact of the matter is he is a consummate, narcissist, and he constantly engages in reckless conduct that puts his political followers at risk and the conservative and Republican agenda at risk.” -Bill Barr

“By the time I left the White House, I was convinced he was not fit to be president… I think it is a danger for the United States if he gets a second term.” -John Bolton

“We need more seriousness, less noise, and leaders who are looking forward, not staring in the rearview mirror claiming victimhood.” - Mike Pompeo

“He asked me to put him over the Constitution, and I chose the Constitution, and I always will.” - Mike Pence

“He went down a path he shouldn’t have, and we shouldn’t have followed him, and we shouldn’t have listened to him. And we can’t let that ever happen again.” - Nikki Haley

Stupid. Selfish. Divisive. Authoritarian. Unserious. Tyrant. Professional Victim. Insurrectionist. Narcissist. Dangerous. Moron.

Trump’s best people sum him up.

#fuck trump #fuck maga #january 6 #jan 6th #jan 6 #jan 6 insurrection #nyt #nytimes #new york times

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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One of the other Time Travel fic ideas that lives in my head rent free STARTS very very sad but then quickly moves onto sheer hilarity. I thought of most of it while listening to New Kings by Sleeping Wolf.

It starts with Wymack’s funeral and all of the Foxes are grown up and off living their professional lives. They’re all gutted that their Exy dad has passed away and it is all sorts of unreal that he’s gone. Abby’s driving them all in the old Fox travel bus to go to the burial as a sort of an ode to their importance in Wymack’s life (he had other teams he was close to but nothing will really compete with his most problematic team, he always loved them the most even if he denied it until his dying breath)

Except, in true time travel/world travel/etc. fashion, they get T-boned on their way to the burial and the ‘Miracle Team’ of Foxes all die there.

And then they wake back up and it’s disorienting because they’re still on a bus but they were pretty sure they were hurt a lot worse than they are now. Then Wymack’s voice is loud and concerned asking everyone is okay.

He looks just like how he did back when they were in college but when they all take a look around, they all also look exactly like they had in college too. Andrew is on the court mandated drugs, Seth is alive, Kevin’s hand is still healing from Riko crushing it, and Neil isn’t there.

Kevin, Dan, and Abby barrel into Wymack and it quickly becomes apparent that this Wymack is also the Wymack who had died 20 years later. Meanwhile Andrew is not handling being back on the drugs well at all, especially when Neil is not around.

He’s freaking out that at this point (the beginning of the spring season) Neil is all alone in Millport. He wants to go right now and get his Junkie and there’s the question of whether or not Neil even remembers because Wymack is pretty sure it takes a hard whack to the head or some sort of shock to remember. Wymack took an errant ball to the head the week after the ‘skiing accident’ that Kevin suffered.

Andrew wants to go right now and he’s fine with re-enacting his first meeting with this Neil if it means he’ll get his Neil back. Wymack promises that they’ll go and they’ll do everything they need to get Neil back. Even if Neil doesn’t remember anything then Andrew will keep him close and keep him safe because FUCK there are so many dangers to Neil’s life again.

Wymack and the rest of the Foxes also work on getting Andrew cleared to start going off of his medicine with the enthusiastic support from Betsy. They won’t put Andrew in Easthaven again but manage to get him into an outpatient program that Abby will oversee once they get Neil because Neil’s the only one that Andrew trusts to be with him and see him like that.

They get to Millport two days after the bus accident and Hernandez had sent Neil’s reel and his belief that Neil was a runaway and Wymack had said he was going to come down at some point to talk with him but the other coach hadn’t really heard from Wymack since then so he’s surprised to have Wymack, Kevin Day and some manic blond show up.

It’s pretty awkward to explain that the Ravens came and offered Neil a full scholarship a week prior to be a sub Striker with the Ravens. That Riko Moriyama himself came and offered it to him. Andrew and Kevin look like they’re going to pass out until Hernandez says that Neil had said no and he’d ran off immediately after and Hernandez hasn’t seen him since he ran away from Riko Moriyama a week prior.

Neil’s in the wind.

He might not even be Neil anymore.

Andrew is catatonic, Kevin is hardly any better, and the rest of the Foxes don’t know if Neil running was better than having Neil as a Raven.

It doesn’t make any sense on why Riko would be offering a place with the Ravens to Neil let alone why he’d offer the Striker position.

It’s Aaron, barely managing to hold Andrew together as his brother refuses to start the rehab until Neil is with him, who offers the idea that they’re not the only ones who came back. Riko had also died, he could have come back and Neil was part of his imagined perfect court he could have gone to get him for that or even just to ruin the chance of Neil being around for the Foxes because the sight of a Moriyama would have sent Neil running.

It’s a month later and Andrew’s ready to drop out of college to start hunting down Neil until a phone call comes and it’s Hernandez letting them know that Neil had shown back up at his house and asked if he could stay for a little bit. Neil was bruised and bloodied but wouldn’t say what had happened to him.

Andrew and Wymack are the two who go this time. Kevin has a history test that he can’t skip and Andrew wants to be in Millport immediately. They come up on coach Hernandez’s house to find Neil climbing out of a side window from a bathroom looking terrible and Andrew is getting ready to smack him in the gut but Neil turns and sees him and, “Drew?” comes out of his mouth before he can think better of it.

What follows is an explanation of what happened. Why he ran. Where he’d been the last month. One of Riko’s thugs hit him pretty hard to get him to agree to sign on as a Raven and that knocked Neil’s memories back into his head. He needed to get away from Riko and he had no idea that he wasn’t the only one who had come back so he’d thought he had time before the Foxes came to Millport. He went off and he killed Drake first and foremost and then set a trap for the worst of his father’s men, including Lola that left 6 dead and one alive only long enough to beg for mercy that Neil didn’t have for the woman who would play tic-tac-toe with a dashboard lighter on his arms.

Andrew cannot be separated from Neil after that. They make plans that Neil will be completing his high school education in Palmetto. Neil is 18 so he can transfer himself out and Neil’s address is Abby’s house but he doesn’t spend a single night there aside from the time spent getting Andrew off of his drugs.

The Foxes finish out their season quite well after their accident. Most of the graduating players and Seth are confused by the changes in their teammates after the crash, especially why everyone is so visibly relieved when some skinny kid from Arizona comes in and why the terrifying freshman has clung onto him so fiercely.

The Foxes have plans for the next year. There’s no need for them to ‘come together’ the way they had the first time because even Seth has chilled out now that Kevin is doing more than just bitching that they’re not enough (he’s had years to actually get good at coaching).

They’re going to make the world recognize them again.

#New Kings AU #Fic Ideas #AFTG #AFTG fic #All for the Game #Palmetto State Foxes #Time Travel Fic #Andreil #long post #David Wymack #In a Masterpost

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harley-sunday · 1 year

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Feels Like Home [03]

Summary: When an unexpected three-week break between Monza and Singapore finds Daniel back on his farm in Perth he’s desperate to use this time to clear his mind, figure out his future in Formula One, and find his way back. He didn’t expect a new neighbour, a sassy two-year old, and three alpacas would make him realise that sometimes, what you’re looking for is right in front of you.

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 4.6k

AN: Daniel in this chapter is just... Oof. I hope you like it, if you could take some time to leave a comment that would mean so much :) ♥

Masterlist

“Alright, Boss,” Daniel jokes with a wide grin, “tell me what to do.” It’s his first official day as her farmhand and even though she told him yesterday what she expects from him he might have been too busy looking at her to really hear anything she said.

“Well,” she draws out, looking from him to the alpacas and back, “it’s Sunday, so it’s time for their weekly bath, maybe you could-”

“I’m sorry, what?” Daniel eyes the girls suspiciously, not sure how he feels about bathing three killing machines who could take him out in a second. Try explaining that to Blake, he thinks to himself with a wry smile.

“Well yeah, I mean, they’re outside all week long, so I usually take them down to the river on Sundays and give them a nice wash.” She nods towards her truck, “There’s a bottle of shampoo and a brush in my truck.”

Ok. He’s got this. This is nothing compared to driving a race car at three hundred k’s per hour, right? It’s just three alpacas, and they’ve probably been bathed lots of times before, and if she can do it he surely can. Right? Daniel swallows hard, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand by taking a deep breath, trying not to show fear because he’s convinced the girls will pick up on that and- Ok. One at a time. He'll start with Blanche, she's definitely the least threatening, then Babs, and Betsy last.

“I usually take all three of them at the same time,” she says then. “They get a little antsy when they’re separated.”

Oh. Ok. He risks another glance at the girls who are huddled together in the corner of the paddock, eating some grass and probably having a better time than he is right now. But. One alpaca or three alpacas, same difference, right? So why does his voice come out all high and squeaky when he tells her, “Yeah, nah, no worries.”

Next to him he can hear her let out a laugh and he’s about to tell her that this might not be the best idea but then her hand is on his arm and she looks up at him with a mischievous smile, “I was just messing with you, Daniel.”

“Oh, thank God,” he breathes before he composes himself. Or tries to, anyway, “I mean, I was going to do it but-”

“Yeah, nah, I could totally see that,” she jokes, her hand squeezing his arm as she winks at him. “Why don’t you fill up their feeder inside and I’ll get started on cleaning out the shed?”

“That I can do,” Daniel agrees easily enough. He takes the bucket of grains out of her truck and starts making his way over to the shed. As soon as he opens the gate he can see the alpacas hurrying over to him and so he makes a quick dash to the shed to avoid being trampled to death by a herd of angry alpacas. Or at least, three very hungry ones. Still they catch up with him and he lets out an embarrassing yelp when Blanche head buts him in the back, “Jeepers, Blanche!”

“She likes you,” she says from where she’s leaning on her pitch fork.

“I like you too,” Daniel tells the white alpaca in a soft voice, trying not to spook her, “but I’m gonna need you to keep your distance, ma’am.”

***

When you hit the call button you take a deep breath, trying to settle the nerves in your stomach that have formed a nice little knot there ever since Granddad suggested asking Daniel to help you out and gave you his number, and bite your lip while you wait for the call to go through.

He answers with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Hi Daniel, it’s-”

“Well, hello neighbour,” he says then and you swear you can feel his megawatt smile beaming at you through the phone. “Everything alright? Is this you calling me to tell me what an excellent job I did today?”

“Uhm, no-” You can’t help but laugh, “But sure. Thank you for today, Daniel. You did an excellent job.”

“Thank you, that sounded very genuine and not at all prompted,” he laughs.

You nod, even though he can’t see you. “I uh-” you clear your throat, trying to get rid of your pinched voice, “I wanted to ask if you maybe could do me a favour tomorrow?”

“Hmm,” he hums in reply and you think you can hear him sit down somewhere, “that depends.”

“On?”

“On what the favour is. I’ve got no problem feeding the girls but if you’re going to tell me that because it’s Monday it’s time for Oscar’s his weekly bath I might-”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, “No.” A little cheeky then, “That’s not until next Friday anyway.” He chuckles and you can feel your nerves settle down a little, “I do have to take Granddad into town tomorrow though. The doctor wants to see him for a follow-up and so I was wondering if you maybe could watch Ellie for an hour or two? Mrs Mackenzie was supposed to watch her but she’s not feeling too well, so- Normally I would take Ellie with me but it’s right around her nap time and she gets a little grumpy when she doesn’t get enough sleep so I’d rather-”

“You want me to hang out with Miss Ellie?”

“Well, she’d be asleep for most of it,” you try to reassure him because he sounds a little- hesitant, maybe. “Really it’s just babysitting her for two hours tops but if you don’t-”

“I’d love to,” he interrupts you quickly. “What time do you need me to come over?”

“We have to leave at one-”

“I’ll be there.”

You can’t help the smile that grows ever wider, “Thank you so much, Dan. I really appre-”

“Stop it,” he counters, no doubt with a grin. “I’m happy to help out.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from thanking him again and so instead you simply say, “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yep. Catch you later, neighbour.”

***

“Thanks for another great workout, Mikey, it’s been swell,” Daniel says once they’re done with their Monday morning session. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Michael eyes him suspiciously, “You’re awfully chipper today-”

“What?” Daniel chuckles and shrugs, “Am I not allowed to enjoy working out?”

“You are,” Michael draws out, “it’s just that usually you don’t.”

“It was a good workout, mate,” Daniel says as he claps Michael’s back. Of course he knows exactly what brought on his good mood, because he’s been looking forward to babysitting Ellie all day, but he doesn’t necessarily need Michael to know that.

“Sure,”

“What?” Daniel says again. “Don’t doubt yourself, Mikey. Your workouts are great!”

“I’m not sure what’s going on here,” Michael says, circling his finger in front of Daniel’s chest, “but keep up with the flattery, mate. It’s better than your usual complaining.”

“Awesome.” Daniel risks a quick glance at his watch then and sees it’s already a quarter past twelve and he still needs to shower and- “It’s been swell, mate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yep,” Michael agrees bluntly. He narrows his eyes at Daniel then, “Do I need Blake to schedule a drug test or something?” He lowers his voice, “Are you involved in illegal activities, Dan? I mean, I’m not against the use of CBD oil but I don’t think smoking weed is-”

“Out!” Daniel pushes his friend towards the door with a shake of his head even though he can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth, “Don’t be a nosy Nellie, mate. It doesn’t suit you.”

Michael gives him the finger but then heads to his car and so Daniel turns on his heels and heads for the shower, and if he’s already picked out the outfit he’s going to wear, so what? It’s efficient.

He’s out of the house twenty minutes later and when he pulls up in front of Oscar’s house there’s still ten minutes to spare. Daniel knocks and then lets himself in like he always does, finding his neighbour in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea, “Hiya Oscar.”

“Hi Danny,” Oscar replies, his face lighting up with a smile.

“How you doing, mate?”

“Not too bad,” Oscar agrees easily enough. As always he’s a man of little words and doesn’t really elaborate. Instead he nods to the ceiling, “She’s just putting Ellie to bed, shouldn’t take long.”

“Oh, that’s ok,” Daniel says as he sits down in one of the kitchen chairs after helping himself to a cup of coffee.

“Listen, Dan,” Oscar starts and for some reason Daniel knows whatever comes next is important, “they’ve been through a lot, both of them. It wasn’t easy when Ellie’s dad-” Oscar shakes his head, “That’s not really my story to tell but I need you to understand that she doesn’t trust people easily, so for her to ask you to watch Ellie, the one person who means more to her than anyone, well-” he locks eyes with Daniel, “It’s a big ask from her and a big responsibility for you. Don’t muck about, son. Ok? Not just now, with babysitting Ellie, but with her as well. I might not be as quick as I was before but I won’t hesitate to hunt you down if you ever hurt her.”

“Understood,” Daniel says with a nod because he does. He could tell she was hesitant to accept his help when he first offered it and even more so when she called him yesterday and so he wants to do anything but hurt the trust she’s put in him.

“Good,” Oscar says, taking another sip of his tea.

When he hears her coming down the stairs he leans in a little closer to Oscar and tells him, “I’m not gonna let her down, promise.”

“That’s a big promise to make, Danny,” Oscar counters with his eyebrows raised.

“I know,” Daniel gives him a big smile, “but I intend to keep it.”

It’s then she walks into the kitchen, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Daniel beams back at her, a little taken aback by how different she looks out of her normal work clothes because even though she’s wearing jeans and a simple black top she looks absolutely gorgeous. He clears his throat and tries not to stare when he asks, “Ellie’s asleep?”

“Yep,” she nods. “Out like a light. I doubt she’ll wake up before we get back but just in case there’s a bottle of milk in the fridge that you just need to heat up and if she wants she can have a banana.”

“Gotcha.”

“You have my number so call me if there’s anything, ok?” She waits until he nods before she casually adds, “She likes you so I don’t think she’ll mind you being there but if she does throw a little tantrum-”

“I’ll call,” Daniel adds, trying to reassure her that he’s got this while still basking in the fact that Ellie likes him.

She turns towards Oscar then, “Ready to go?”

Daniel helps Oscar to her car and promises once again to call if there’s anything before he heads back inside and settles on the couch with his phone, making good use of his time by catching up on some emails.

Ellie wakes up somewhere around two-thirty and Daniel’s on his feet at her first cry, a little nervous when he walks up the stairs to where Oscar told him her room is. The little girl is sitting in her cot, looking at him with big eyes and so he lowers his voice, trying to let her know it’s ok when he says, “Hi Miss Ellie. How you going?”

Ellie looks up at him, her little eyebrows knitted together as she studies him for a moment, but then she must recognise him because she holds out her hands to him, “Danny.”

“That’s right,” Daniel says as he picks her up and kisses her cheek. “How you going, sleepyhead?”

She leans back a little in his arms, looking over his shoulder, “Momma?”

“Momma’s taking Granddad to see the doctor, sweetheart,” Daniel explains as he gently wipes her hair out of her face. “She’ll be back soon.”

Ellie seems to think about it for a second but then seems content with his answer and lets her head rest against his shoulder, “Milk?”

Daniel laughs, “Yep. Let’s go get you some milk, huh?” He pokes her side then, “And maybe a banana?”

Ellie’s head shoots up, her eyes wide, whispering a quiet, “‘Nana?”

“Banana,” Daniel confirms quietly as he turns around. He makes his way down the stairs carefully before he walks to the kitchen and sits her down in her high chair.

Ellie’s quietly singing to herself as he waits for the microwave to heat up her bottle and at first he can’t make out what she’s going on about but then the microwave beeps and it’s quiet in the kitchen again and he hears her loud and clear, “Danny, banana. Danny, banana. Danny, banana.”

Daniel presses a kiss to the top of her head as he puts her bottle down in front of her, “You’re the coolest kid ever, Miss Ellie." When she smiles up at him he grins back at her, "Don’t tell my niece and nephew I said that, ok? Our little secret.”

***

It’s close to three when you pull up to the house and part of you wants to rush inside, to check up on Ellie, and Daniel, but you know you can’t just leave Granddad behind. Instead you turn to him, “I’ll go ask Daniel to come help, ok?”

Your granddad grunts something in reply and you can’t help but smile because you know it’s nothing personal, know it’s just because he hates not being able to do something as simple as getting out of a car on his own and if anything you admire the way he still cares about his independence.

You hear him continue his rant as you step out of the car but don't really pay it any mind, music coming from the house drawing your attention instead. When you walk past Homer, who's curled up on the old couch on the front porch, he looks at you as if to say he doesn't know what's going on either. You pat his head and tell him, "Good boy," before you let yourself in and head for the kitchen.

The loud music means they haven't heard you come in and so you allow yourself a moment to take it all in - Daniel with the sleeves of his t-shirt pushed up, excitedly showing off his tattoos to Ellie, pointing at them and explaining to her what they are. Ellie seems absolutely enthralled by all the pictures etched into his skin, her little fingers now tracing the lines of a cupid on his arm. You feel something settle inside of your chest as you watch your daughter and Daniel together, both of them so at ease, and it's something you haven’t felt in a long time. Before you have time to explore it some more your daughter spots you and so you push yourself off from where you were leaning against the doorframe and walk over to where Ellie’s sitting in her high chair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Hi bub. You having fun?"

Daniel nods, "She's been like this ever since she woke up half an hour ago," just as Ellie points at Daniel’s tattoo, “Cupid!”

“Yeah, that’s a cupid,” you agree with a smile, trying your hardest not to stare at Daniel's tan arms but failing miserably and so you clear your throat to distract yourself.

If Daniel notices anything he's kind enough not to mention it and instead puts his sweater back on. Once that's over his head he looks at you with a grin, "What you do to the old man? Leave him behind at the nursing home?"

You laugh and shake your head, "He's in the car. Would you mind helping him out?"

"On it," Daniel says with a click of his tongue, pointing a pair of finger guns at the two of you before he pulls a face and turns around.

Both you and Ellie watch in silence as he walks out of the kitchen, Ellie letting out a quiet, "Danny," when he turns the corner and you letting out a heavy sigh at the same time. When Ellie looks up at you, you smile back at her, drawing out a "Yeah."

Ellie, bless her, claps her hands in response and then blows a raspberry at you.

You comb your fingers through her hair absentmindedly, "Same, bub-" Another sigh then, "Same."

Daniel and Granddad make it inside not much later, but it’s only Daniel who returns to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair as he says, “He asked me to put him in the living room.”

“He’s a little grumpy,” you whisper with a wink. “Hasn’t had his afternoon nap yet so-” you see-saw your hand and let the rest of that sentence hang in the air unspoken.

“Gotcha,” Daniel says with a grin, looking a bit unsure of himself. He shakes his head then and points at the window, “I don’t know about you two but maybe we could go for a walk? It’s nice enough outside and I don’t mind stretching my legs for a bit.”

You look down at Ellie, “You wanna go for a walk, bub?”

Ellie’s eyes light up and she whispers a happy, “Yeah,” before she looks at Daniel, “Come with?”

“Yep,” Daniel nods. “I’m definitely coming with, my friend.”

“I’ll just go get her changed real quick,” you tell Daniel as you pick Ellie up from her seat. “Shouldn’t take long.”

“I’ll wait outside for you,” Daniel offers with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to disturb the old man during his nap.”

When you come down a little later, Ellie in a pair of pale green dungarees and a fleece made from Alpaca wool, you find Daniel sitting next to Homer on the porch swing, albeit with some distance between them. You can’t help but tease, “Cautious of the dog too, Ricciardo?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a nod, rubbing his hands on the fabric of his jeans. “Although I trust him more than I do the alpacas.”

You click your tongue, “Better not let the girls hear that.” Ellie starts wriggling in your arms and so you put her down, watching as she wobbles over to the apple orchard, where Granddad put up a swing for you in one of the trees when you were Ellie’s age. You look at Daniel and shrug, “Guess we’re going that way.”

Ellie’s surprisingly quick on her little legs and already waiting for you at the swing by the time you catch up with her. Daniel doesn’t hesitate and picks her up so he can put her into the seat, gently pushing her once she’s in, drawing excited giggles from her, his own smile growing wider with every push.

You and Daniel talk about the farm mostly, how it was back when you were a kid and how much has changed since your grandmother passed away a few years ago. When he asks if you could ever see yourself moving here full time, you hesitate, “I’m not sure.” You shrug then, “I think I could manage what little livestock we have now but I’m not sure if I could be the best mum to Ellie if I have the farm to worry about.”

“Hmm,” he agrees quietly, encouraging you to go on.

“It’s a lot of work,” you explain. “I mean, if it wasn't just me maybe it’d be different but-”

“Can I-” Daniel stops himself but when you nod, because you know what he’s going to ask, he clears his throat and continues, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where’s Ellie’s dad?”

“Dunno.” You smile to let him know it’s ok, “We were together for six or seven months before I found out he was married, so I broke it off and told him I never wanted to see him again. Two months later I found out I was pregnant.”

“Does he-”

“He knows about Ellie, but he already has a wife and kids so-” You look at Ellie, “He signed away his rights when she was born and asked not to bother him anymore.”

“Wow,” Daniel shakes his head. “What an a-” He looks at Ellie and corrects himself just in time, “What a despicable human being.”

You shrug, “It’s fine. For me it’s better this way but-” you swallow hard, trying to get rid of the lump that has started to form in your throat, “I worry about the day Ellie’s going to ask about him, you know? Can you imagine? ‘Oh yeah, funny you should ask, kid, but your dad doesn’t want anything to do with you.’” You scoff, “I hate that he’s put me in that position but on the other hand, if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have her so-”

“If it’s any consolation,” Daniel says with a hesitant smile, “she’s a carbon copy of you, both the way she looks and her personality. People will always know she’s your kid.”

“That’s very kind, thank you,” you tell him with a warm smile.

Ellie decides then she’s had enough of the swing and holds up her arms, “Out.”

You can’t help but laugh and nod at your daughter, “You heard her, Daniel. She wants out.”

Daniel laughs and picks up Ellie, lifting her onto his shoulders before he turns to you, “Why don’t you show me your favourite place on the farm?”

“My favourite place,” you echo slowly, trying to choose between the little creek over in the Burned Oak paddock or- Looking at your daughter then, who is giggling with glee from being so high up, the choice is easy, “Ok. Let’s go.” You lead Daniel through the orchard to a field that at first glance doesn’t look like anything special but you know in a few months time will look completely different.

When you reach the gate you look at him from over your shoulder, “This is it.”

“Ok,” he draws out, probably not sure if you’re joking or not.

“You’ll have to come back in December,” you tell him, without thinking much of it, without fully realising you actually want him to come back, want to have him in your life for more than just the two weeks you’re promised now, “the entire place will be covered in poppies. It’s beautiful.” You poke Ellie’s side then, “It’s why her second name is Poppy.”

“Because you love the flowers so much?” Daniel guesses.

“That and because she was born on December third, when they are in full bloom.” You take your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and pull up your picture gallery, scrolling back to a picture of Ellie’s second birthday, where you took a few pictures of her surrounded by thousands of red poppies. You angle your phone to Daniel, “See?”

“Oh wow.”

“Right?” You smile at Ellie, “A very pretty girl in the middle of some very pretty flowers.”

Ellie yawns in response and when you look at the time on your phone you’re surprised to see it’s already close to five. You look at Daniel, “We should probably head back. Don’t want the wrath of Granddad unleashed on us because of dinner being late.”

Daniel laughs, “Yeah, nah, we could do without.”

***

It’s been less than a week since Daniel offered to help out on the farm, but already you’ve settled into an easy rhythm. You still do your chores around the house in the morning, make lunch, put Ellie down for her nap, and spend some time outside until your granddad calls, have a coffee break, head back outside again together with Ellie for an hour or so until it’s five o’clock and it’s time to make dinner. Or, well, warm up dinner. The meals Daniel brought you only require a few minutes in the microwave and save you so much time.

Daniel usually shows up around five-thirty, entertaining Ellie long enough for you and Granddad to finish your dinner in relative peace before you take Ellie upstairs to get her ready for the night while Daniel and your Granddad drink a cuppa and gossip about the neighbours and whatever footie game was on that day. By now Granddad is a lot more independent around the house, but getting him ready both in the mornings and at night is still something you need to help him with. He seems a bit happier though and in the end that’s all that matters.

Once Ellie is asleep, you and Daniel head outside, taking your Granddad’s ute out to Eagle’s nest to tend to the alpacas. More often than not, Homer jumps into the back of the truck once you set off, having taken a special liking to the alpacas ever since they arrived on the farm a few years ago.

It’s where you find yourself today, an unusually warm Wednesday evening, with Homer dozing off next to the fence while you and Daniel clean out the shed so you can put in fresh hay later. The warmer weather means both you and Daniel have ditched your jackets, Daniel even going as far as taking his sweater off and working in only a t-shirt and so you keep finding yourself stealing glances at his arms and the way his tattoos stand out against his skin.

Of course Daniel catches you looking, “Like what you see?”

Is he flirting with you? If he is, it’s working because you feel the heat rise to your cheeks but try to shrug it off, “I’ve seen better.”

“Hmm,” he teases and throws you a wink. “Let me know if it’s too distracting, babe. I’ll put my sweater back on.”

Babe? Oh God. He really is flirting with you. Fine. Two can play that game, you decide as you lean on your pitchfork, “Are you flexing right now?” You laugh when he seems confused and tease him some more, “Oh my God, you are. You are actually flexing your muscles.”

“Am not,” he shoots back, throwing his spade aside and taking on one of those ridiculous bodybuilder poses, one leg bent as he turns his torso towards you and pumps the muscles in his arms, “Now I am.” He goes through a whole array of poses and ends up with his back towards you, flexing his butt cheeks.

You hate the giggle that escapes you and so you try to play it cool and applaud his efforts instead, holding up an invisible sign, “Ten out of ten, Danny. You have impressed the judges.”

“Judges-” he echoes, “or judge?”

Biting your bottom lip you scrunch your nose, “It takes a lot more than that to impress this judge-” then, because why not, “-babe.”

“Oooh,” Daniel draws out and puts his hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt by your comment, “way to kick me down, boss. Jeepers.”

“You wanna impress me?” You nod towards the last of the dirty hay, “Clean that out for me and then we’ll talk.”

“Or,” Daniel starts, taking a step closer to you and making you look up at him, “I could take you out to dinner on Friday.”

You nod, your throat a little dry from how close he’s standing, “Or you could do that.”

#Daniel Ricciardo #F1 Fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo x reader #F1 imagine #DR3 #Harley Sunday x Daniel Ricciardo #Feels Like Home

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