#he needs someone to shake him out of his anxiety spiral at all times | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youremyonepiece · 5 months

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anxious mornings

sanji x gn!reader (no pronouns used), sanji's pov

anxiety has a tendency to spread, as sanji discovers unexpectedly early one morning.

warnings: mentions and descriptions of anxiety and related symptoms; unhealthy eating habits; small implied mention of disordered eating; slight angst, comfort, light fluff (please lmk if there are any i should add!)

word count: 3k

sanji runs a hand through his damp hair as he steps out of the washroom, unsuccessful in warding off a large yawn. though the early waking hour is by no means unusual for him, he is but human, he thinks to himself with a slight chuckle; some mornings are just going to be easier than others.

shaking his head slightly as though attempting to scatter his thoughts around him like the water droplets that fly from his hair, sanji starts to make his way towards the kitchen. he needs to start prepping for the many meals of the day if he hopes to stand a chance at keeping up with luffy's incessant hunger. his fingers itch for a cigarette, anything to help stave off the remaining sleepiness in his system, but he resists the urge. while he knows he has little to no hopes of quitting, nor does he really want to, smoking this early in the morning feels like crossing a line-- not before breakfast.

it's as he's walking across the planks of the deck in the 4 AM darkness that he hears a sound he would recognize anywhere: the sound of a stomach growling.

sanji's eyebrows furrow as his thoughts about the day's menu are entirely forgotten. his head snaps towards the cluster of barrels from where the sound came-- a stowaway? he wonders briefly, but they've been out at sea for days now. there's no way someone could have gone unnoticed for that long. the growl is followed by a vaguely familiar soft sigh, causing sanji’s brows to furrow further.

he's at the barrels in a few long strides and can't stop his eyebrows from shooting upwards when he peers over their tops to find-- you. you're sitting on the deck with your back leaning against the barrel in front of him, eyes unfocused as they gaze across the distant horizon.

your name escapes his lips in confusion before he has completely processed your presence. you jolt slightly in surprise, clearly not expecting to have any company, before tilting your head upwards to peer at him.

"sanji?" you ask in your voice that he never fails to swoon at. a pause, and then, "is it that time already?"

sanji can't help but smile at your question. you truly are so sweet, so adorable-- he relishes the sight of your wide eyes, your slightly parted plush lips, your mussed hair. you're still in your pajamas, which isn't unusual in and of itself (you tended to get ready for the day after eating breakfast with the rest of the crew) but something about seeing you like this, alone in the early hour, feels more intimate than the two of you had been before. which, granted, was not at all, but that's only all the more reason he feels grateful to be here with you now.

he makes his way around the barrels languidly before leaning against the merry's railing, facing you with a warm expression. "indeed it is, sweetness. good morning."

he watches as a small smile forms on your lips. “good morning," you say, and sanji struggles to keep his thoughts from spiraling into bliss.

“you’re up early,” he comments casually with a friendly smirk, though a concerned quirk of his eyebrow gives him away. “to what do i owe the fine pleasure of your enchanting presence, my dear?”

the corners of your mouth turn upwards at his question, but he notices the smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. "just couldn't sleep, i guess," you respond with a shrug, breaking eye contact to stare back out at the dim horizon.

it’s clear you aren't being completely honest, but sanji doesn’t want to push you to share if you don't want to. after all, it isn't like you guys are particularly close or anything. actually, he isn't sure if you could be considered "close" to anyone in the crew, with the exception of maybe luffy.

it isn’t that you didn’t trust them, not exactly-- despite the brevity of your time with the straw hats thus far, you’ve been through enough harrowing experiences together to know that you’ve got each other’s backs. but trusting someone with your life is one thing, especially when it’s already been proven in battle, and trusting them with your feelings is entirely another. it just hasn't been long enough yet; you’re still getting to know them.

at least, that's what he hopes it is, anyway. with the way his eyes seem to cling to you like flies to fruit, he isn't sure what he'll do if the truth is actually that you disliked him.

"anything i can help with?" he offers, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. he wants to help, but he also doesn't want to impose if you don't want him around.

to his relief, you meet his eyes again and smile. "that's kind of you, but no." you don’t say anything for a moment, holding his gaze with unreadable eyes and suddenly sanji feels as though he is gazing upon anubis instead, his heart being weighed on your scale to determine his worth. after a couple of seconds that span eternity, you say, “honestly, i’m just feeling a bit... not great.”

“not great?”

you break eye contact with him to look down at your stomach, silent for a moment again. “just anxious,” you finally sigh, your hands moving to rest at a spot right below your rib cage. “i feel it right here. it feels like... like pressure is building up, but if i press down on it then it's like i can get it to release," you demonstrate, causing a growl to emanate from your torso as though you had simply pushed air out of a bag. you exhale with slight relief again, hands still firm against yourself, before looking back up at him with an abashed smile. "i think my anxiety gave me gas," you half-joke.

sanji forces himself to ignore his ecstasy-- you’re opening up to him! he had just been thinking about it, too! you trust him!-- and to focus on your words instead. it gets easier as you continue, his frown deepening at the sound of your stomach growling again as he remembers what drew him to you a few minutes earlier.

he pulls out a cigarette with the slightest tremble in his hands-- breakfast be damned. you had just unwittingly reminded him of the fact that he’s only human for the second time this day already; some things are harder to deal with than others.

he takes a long inhale of his cigarette, letting the smoke permeate through his system and dull his nerves before slowly exhaling it in a thin wisp. "sweetness," he starts when he finally feels grounded again, eyes full of concern as they meet yours, "i don't think that's anxiety."

you seemingly can't stop yourself from releasing a short, incredulous laugh, lips curved in a smile but eyebrows furrowed and eyes guarded. "what?"

"at least, i don't think that it’s only anxiety." he holds your gaze steadily despite your spike of wariness. when he speaks again, his voice is sincere. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to say you didn't know what you were feeling. it's just--" he pulls away from the railing to crouch in front of you, faces now at the same level. the cigarette between his fingers creates a soft haze in the air between you. "when was the last time you ate?"

sanji feels the guilt spread through him again and attempts to fight it off by taking another long drag of his cigarette. he turns away from you to puff out the smoke, lost in thought.

now that he's thinking about it, you didn't show up to dinner yesterday. or lunch. your absence hadn't been odd; in the not-quite-two weeks you had been aboard, you had eaten with the rest of the crew a whopping total of four times. instead, sanji had noticed you opted to grab your dish and eat in the open air of the deck, taking shelter under nami’s tangerine trees if the weather wasn't accommodating. but he can't even remember you stopping by to make a plate for yourself yesterday. and thanks to luffy, he hadn't noticed any discrepancies in leftover food (that is to say, there was none as usual).

you had been there at breakfast, but he can't recall you grabbing anything except a mug of coffee. how could he have failed to notice? when was the last time he had seen you eat in front of him? it's been maybe two days since, he thinks, hating that he isn't certain. this had happened under his watch. and that too, with you. the person he’s trying to get closer to, to befriend and become a trusted confidant of at the very least, and at the very best... well, he finds you very attractive. but he would never cross that line unless he was wholly certain you wanted to, too.

you're silent as well, seemingly thinking back to find the answer to his question. he watches color creep up your cheeks as something dawns on you, realization and embarrassment fighting for dominance over your features. "i ate last night. at like, ten," you finally respond in a meek voice, looking everywhere but his face.

he can’t stop himself from glancing towards the kitchen. “what'd you eat?” he wonders.

you remain quiet for a moment before sighing again. "you're right. i'm hungry. i... i hadn't realized."

he narrows his eyes at you without malice, seeing through your attempts to escape answering him. “what did you eat?" he asks again, his voice’s volume softening to match yours.

you wring your hands, still refusing to look his way. "a couple of almonds," you say eventually, sounding chastised.

"and?" he prompts.

you don't respond.

"okay," sanji says, feeling his hands tremble again as he takes in your words. "okay," he repeats, "what about before that?"

"um, i think right after you cleaned up for lunch? i stole a slice of cheese, the one with the peppers in it." he can see you’re struggling to keep your expression neutral, but he isn't sure which emotions you’re fighting off.

he does know which ones he’s struggling with, though. sanji feels his stomach turn with guilt and trauma at your words. "and before that?" he asks, his voice low.

"coffee, at breakfast." your hands still but they and your eyes remain on your lap.

he exhales your name softly.

"it had milk and sugar in it," you say defensively at his meager response, voice somehow even softer.

sanji lets out a quiet, humorless chuckle before taking your hands in his. he doesn't say anything, waiting, until finally you look up to meet his eyes. "why?" he asks when you do.

you look confused. "what do you mean?"

he raises one of his hands to tentatively cup your cheek, eyes full of tenderness and concern. "are you... unhappy with the way you look?" he asks carefully, trying not to word it in a way that could be misconstrued. when your eyebrows furrow deeper, he hurries to add, "because you’re-"

"no," you cut him off before he can undoubtedly shower you in praise, "no, it's not that." and then you add, cheeks flushing, "um. thank you, though."

sanji offers you a brief smile, his hand falling from your cheek and rejoining the other with yours, before frowning again. "is it my cooking, then? sweetness, if there's ever anything you don't like-"

"no, not at all," you cut him off again, this time with more certainty as you shake your head. "i love your cooking."

“then?" he prompts lightly when you don't say anything else.

one of your feet begins to flicker back and forth like a light switch against the deck, giving away your restlessness. you’re back to looking everywhere but at sanji, at his eyes. "i'm just... not hungry."

as if on cue, your stomach lets out another low growl, causing your blush to deepen in embarrassment. sanji wants to smirk at you, poke fun at how cute you look flustered like this, but the noise reignites his guilt. reminds him how you’d gotten to this state without him even noticing.

"your stomach says differently," he simply states. sanji pulls his hands away from yours before standing up and offering one back to you. you don't hesitate to take it, and he effortlessly helps you rise to your feet. "c'mon. let's get some food in you."

your wince at his words doesn't go unnoticed by him. he gives your hand, still in his as you both make your way towards the kitchen, a short squeeze before murmuring softly, "wanna tell me about it? you don't have to if you don't want to."

to be honest, he's surprised you've been so receptive to him thus far. he doesn't want to push his luck, your grace, because if he did-- if he made you feel uncomfortable, if you began to avoid him because of it-- well, it would feel crushing, that’s for sure.

the nervousness in sanji’s chest continues to blossom as you say nothing for a few steps. however, it’s swiftly replaced with concern when you do respond, your voice heavy with exhaustion. "like i mentioned before, it's because of my anxiety." you sigh once again, weighed down by your words. "sometimes it just gets... bad. i don't know why. i'm not even really sure if there is a reason, to be honest. it just happens every now and then."

the two of you have reached the kitchen by now. he silently holds the door open for you before leading you to a barstool at the kitchen island and walking around it to the sink to wash his hands. he holds his cigarette between his lips as he begins to gather ingredients from various shelves and cabinets and places them on the island between you.

“the anxiety makes me feel... full, i guess?” you continue. “i don't feel hungry, and i definitely don't feel like eating. and i feel so nauseated because of it, too. thinking about eating makes it worse. so does seeing or smelling food." you sigh. "i know i have to eat. i guess... i just didn't notice that i hadn't really eaten recently.”

sanji turns away from you, taking a final drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out and tossing it away. “you didn’t notice?”

“...i guess i didn't want to notice." you sigh for what seems to be the millionth time and sanji feels his heart twist. “noticing means admitting something’s not... okay.”

sanji hums once you trail off, signaling to you that he heard you and understood.

you start up again after a few moments of silence, restlessness shining through once more. “it’s not really that big of a deal, though. you don’t have to worry-- don’t worry about it. it’ll pass. it always does, eventually.”

sanji doesn’t respond, instead staring at the amalgamation of ingredients he had gathered specifically for you. his eyebrows draw together as he mentally rifles through countless recipes, determined to find the right one for you at this moment. something light, since you hadn't eaten properly in a little bit. no strong scents, either, except maybe ginger since that’s good with nausea. a variety of flavors and textures, to keep it fun. it’s early, so breakfast foods-- that means the bananas, yogurt--

"are you mad at me?” you ask timidly.

he freezes, mouth slightly parting in surprise before standing straight, his attention now entirely on you. "of course not, sweetness.”

"you seem upset.”

sanji takes a beat to process your words. he thought he'd been hiding his reaction well, but apparently not. "i suppose... i’m upset at myself,” he finally admits to you.

you frown. “why?”

he offers you a consoling smile, “you haven't been eating well and i hadn't noticed." he realizes you’ve reminded him for the third time that day that he’s only human-- as much as he wants to keep it to himself, to not burden you with his thoughts, he knows he stands no chance at resisting you. who could?

“but i didn't even notice," you insist.

he feels his adoration of you helplessly grow at your rebuttal. “true, but it isn’t your job to make sure all of our crewmates are well fed and healthy. it is mine."

“fine, but we're pirates,” you shoot back almost immediately. “we should all be taking care of ourselves-- i should be taking care of myself."

he chuckles at your fervency, the warm sound filling the room. “i get the feeling you’re not going to let me win this one."

"i didn't realize there was anything to win,” you grumble, making sanji laugh harder. when he glances over at you, he sees you're smiling, causing his own to widen.

sanji works in a comfortable silence for a few moments, his smile remaining on his face as he feels your eyes on him. he takes a step back when he’s done, admiring his handiwork before proudly presenting you with a small bowl and steaming mug. “made especially for you: peanut butter yogurt topped with diced bananas and granola, served with a cup of ginger herbal tea.”

simple, but he knows that’s always best when feeling nauseous. the cold yogurt should help settle your stomach, and the peanut butter provides extra protein which he had heard could help with nausea, similar to the ginger and bananas. and the granola ties it all together with its crunch.

you give him a genuine smile as your eyes glaze over the meal he had prepared before looking back up at him. “thanks, sanji.” you pause for a moment before adding, “are you okay?”

“what?” he asks, taken aback, then chuckles slightly. “aren’t i supposed to be asking you that?”

only you, he thinks to himself affectionately. only you would share something you’d been struggling with and then ask him if he was feeling okay. ever thoughtful, ever sweet.

his question seems to embarrass you and sanji can’t help the warmth that spreads in his chest as your ears turn red. “maybe not... one hundred percent, but better.” you meet his eyes again, your smile returning. “definitely better.”

his own smile grows uncontrollably wide as he leans over the island to place his hand on yours. “then, sweetness, i’m okay, too.”

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skzdarlings · 1 year

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part iii: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: eventual smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (word count; 4800)

warning for this chapter: more explicit violence, physical abuse directed at felix.

When his dark roots start to show, Felix attempts to bleach his own hair. You ask why the aesthetic choice is so important.

“I just don’t like the dark,” he says with a toothy, too-casual smile.

You watch from the open bathroom door as he accidentally turns himself into a red-head. He fingers a vibrant red-orange strand, cocks his head, shrugs, and smiles.

His hair is a shifting mess of yellow-orange-red over the next two years. The nightmares start halfway through.

The first one frightens you awake as Felix shoots upright in a sweaty panic. A startled shriek claws up your throat and comes out raspy, your sleepy eyes darting around in the dark for an intruder only to realize the room is empty.

Felix slumps against the headboard, wiping his forehead. The fiery strands of his bangs are sticking to his face and his hands are shaking so uncharacteristically. Felix only occasionally loses his cool and even then, his retorts are curt and sarcastic rather than emotional. It is the first time you have ever see him like this, so small and so very human, and all you can do is stare until he gets his breathing under control.

“Are you okay?” you ask each other at the same time.

“Me?” you croak. “You were the one who just—”

“It was just a dream,” he says, in that clipped tone when his patience runs out. His breathing is still a little shaky. He goes to the bathroom then makes his rounds to check the security system, even though it is close to four in the morning. Your own adrenaline is still dwindling so you are awake when he gets back in bed.

You don’t know how to comfort someone. No one has ever comforted you in a substantial way. Even if they tried, you would probably rebuff it in confusion. You are certain Felix will do the same thing. He does not like focussing on himself.

But he is radiating so much stress and tension that you can feel it burning off him like a heat wave. He lays stiffly on his back and closes his eyes, pretending to sleep. You know if you say anything about it, he will ignore you.

You look at him thoughtfully, then you say in the smallest voice you can, “Felix, I’m scared.”

His eyes pop open, his brow immediately furrowed in concern. He looks at you and offers a hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, like nothing was amiss with him.

“Bad dreams too,” you say. Your nightmares have never caused you to wake so violently, but you do occasionally have them. You are in the habit of burrowing deep in your blankets and staring at Felix until you fall asleep, calmed by his presence.

Somehow, some way, you have found comfort in that silent company.

“Can you hold me, please?” you say.

You say it because his hand is clammy and cold in yours, despite all the heat of his anxiety. You say it because his forehead is still damp and his breathing is a little laboured. You say it because if you offer a hug, he will say he doesn’t need it, but he does.

Maybe he falls for it, knowing you have a good reason to have nightmares too. Maybe he sees through your ruse and doesn’t care right now. But he nods and tugs you closer.

A year of sharing a bed, not to mention every minute of the day, has made you a little thoughtless in regards to easy proximity, but this embrace is much more deliberate. You feel very aware of the way he fits around you. His arm loops around your shoulders and you hug his waist, your head fitting perfectly in the crook under his chin.

You realize you have never hugged anyone like this. You initiated contact for his sake, but the cradle of his arms and the warmth of his body relaxes your own tension. It feels like a great exhale, both of you releasing a breath you had been holding for a long time.

A part of you wants to shove him away. You think it would be very easy to find his embrace addicting and that is a weakness you cannot afford to have. You know this, he must know this, but you’re tired, so you fall asleep wrapped around him.

The next time he wakes with a nightmare, you don’t have to say anything. He pulls you close and you fall asleep with your head on his chest. By now you are used to him – behind you in class, beside you in the car, across the kitchen counter, standing at the bathroom sink, laying on the other side of your shared bed – so you let yourself drift, caught in the undertow of his comfortable presence, and you fall asleep like that.

Again and again.

His nightmares get worse before they get better. For a few months, Felix wakes every other night with a startled burst. He never talks about it. Sometimes he grounds himself and plasters on a bad smile, but it never fools you.

He always checks the security system after. One night he doesn’t return and you imagine the worst, plagued by fears that will seem nonsensical in daylight but pose a very real threat in the darkness. You turn on every light as you stumble down the corridor, a blanket around your shoulders, too frightened to shout his name as you shuffle along.

You find him in the gym. Felix is as strict with his daily regimen as every other protocol, from diet to exercise and back, so the sight of him sweating buckets in the house gym is not unusual. But it being three in the morning, coupled with the nightmares and your anxiety, makes you erupt with feelings you cannot articulate.

You are relieved he is here. You hate that you are relieved. You hate that you were afraid at all. You hate that you wanted him beside you when you should be relieved in his absence. When did it all get so backwards? He still reports to your father. You should still hate his presence. You shouldn’t be here, shaking, furious that he abandoned you.

You throw the blanket on the floor and the motion catches his eye. He turns, pushing his sweaty red hair off his forehead. His face contorts in funny ways before he forces himself to smile.

“Come back to bed,” you say before he can voice a stupid platitude. “Now.”

His smile disappears. He stands there for a moment, breathing hard, just looking at you. Then he nods.

He showers and gets back in bed. You are wide awake, but you stubbornly lay with your back to him. You say and do nothing when he slides up behind you, crossing the vast space of that big bed to curl himself around you.

“You’re safe in the house,” he says. “You don’t have to worry.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” you say before you can stop yourself.

He is silent for a long moment. He shifts behind you then exhales, his warm breath fluttering over your neck.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he says. That’s not your job, is the unspoken addition your brain supplies. Because Felix shouldn’t care about you either. This is just a job. You have no real obligation to each other.

His arm is around your waist. He breathes out again.

“The nightmares,” he finally says. “It’s not… I think it’s just… Before this, everyday, there was a lot going in my life, yeah? And not… not good things. But now things are… calm… compared to that so I think it’s just… catching up to me. Um. I was going too fast before but now I’m… I’m just here.”

You know he won’t tell you what those nightmares entail. If you ask me, I’ll tell you, I will never lie to you, he once said.

You are too afraid to ask. It is scary enough, laying in his arms, at once adrift and secure. Scarier still to turn around and hide your face in his neck. You do anyway.

He strokes your back, a feather-soft touch, up and down. It becomes a familiar pattern, absent-minded. One night he touches you with that lazy caress while talking about nothing particular. Neither of you can sleep, but his low voice and gentle touch lulls you into a hazy in-between world.

You grab his hand and put it up the back of your shirt, not really thinking. You do not mean to be suggestive and realize too late it could be misconstrued. You are too embarrassed to apologize, laying there with a warm face pressed against his chest, his hand on your back. He stops talking and his hand freezes, fingers splayed on your bare spine.

You have never spoken aloud about how this kind of hugging is too intimate, even if it is innocent, considering what you are supposed to be to each other.

After a moment, he continues, his touch still gentle. You almost forget he is not a gentle boy, that he wouldn’t be here if he was. You fall asleep soon after.

You see your father less these days, no longer in trouble with the same frequency. It makes you understand Felix, the way he spoke about nightmares catching up to him. Over the years, your wounds have seldom had time to heal before they re-opened, both literally and emotionally. Now you have time to scab.

Those poorly stitched wounds start to fester.

One night, you and Felix have an argument. It is a petty, inconsequential quarrel in the greater scheme of things, and it ends with him rolling his eyes.

Irritation is an itch under your skin, worsened by your ongoing state of aggravation. When he goes to the gym for his work-out, trusting you to keep your own routine, you simply walk out the front door. You know he will track you down but it’s the principle of the thing.

Your act of petty retribution spirals out of control when your father gets home at the same time you are trying to leave. One of his men literally snatches you in the driveway. Your adrenaline was already running high from the argument, so you are a thrashing bundle of limbs as they carry you into the house.

Your father is frighteningly quiet on the walk to his home office. All at once you recognize this countenance. It has nothing to do with you, but his business. Something went wrong today, however menial or substantial, and his rage is an icy current. You slipped and tumbled headfirst into the flood.

You stop fighting. You try to muster the same icy resolve as he seats himself on the couch in the office.

In a way, you are almost relieved. It has been so long since you last stood here, but you knew it would eventually happen. Now it isn’t hanging over you. Now your wounds aren’t festering. Now you can rip the messy scab right off and finally just bleed.

Your father pats the seat beside him on the couch. You have only just sat when he says to his own guard, “Find me Felix.”

Felix is waiting right outside the door like the dutiful little soldier he is. He is in his work-out clothes, baggy basketball shorts and a t-shirt, running shoes, his hair messy from exertion. There is a flush to his complexion and it makes him look his age, sixteen and bright-eyed. He is a stark contrast to your father’s guard, a grown man with a hardened face as stern and full as a pit-bull.

Felix looks at you, a momentary flicker of eye contact before he half-bows for your father. Then he straightens, robotic. He clasps his hands behind his back in the same pose as the adult guard.

The dramatic pageantry makes you huff. You know your father will mete out punishment regardless of what Felix has to say. You do not know what Felix includes his daily reports, only that he has kept you out of trouble, but his cleverness will not save you now. It never could, you remind yourself. The hugs, the intimacy, the careful threads of friendship unspooling strand by strand, day by day – it was never going to save you.

“My daughter is headstrong to a fault, isn’t she?” your father says.

Felix glances at you then averts his gaze entirely. He nods sharply, just once. “Sir,” he says, an acknowledgement.

“Mm.” Your father sits back in his seat, his casual posture denoting apathy. He is staring into space, rubbing his chin. You realize he has not spoken to you directly when he says, “You know what happens now, don’t you?” It seems like it should finally be directed at you, but his gaze is still on Felix.

Felix says nothing, though his brow is furrowed with some consternation. You stay quiet. Felix has seen your father punish you more than once now, and you cannot find it in yourself to feel embarrassed about it. Maybe Felix needs a reminder too. Or maybe he has known all along there was no real substance to your connection, that you would always end up here and he would always betray you with his professional stoicism.

“Sir,” Felix says again, as expected.

You roll your eyes and look away from them all. You hear the tell-tale clink of a belt. A frisson is already scratching down your spine, a phantom laceration of its own.

You have this script memorized, having played out this scene time and again. Your father’s guard will hand him a belt, the room will be emptied so you are alone with your father, and he will remove the disobedience and weakness from your body – and the frustration and weakness from his – one stroke at a time. You will leave, contrite and penitent in the freshness of pain and humiliation. It will fade with your scars. You will be back here again.

Your father grabs your face and jerks it back to him. As if reading your thoughts, he says, “It never sticks with you, does it? Not one single lesson.” He lets go with a sharp snap, your chin smarting. You refrain from touching it. “Felix brought this to my attention on his report. You know, you could learn a lesson on reflection from him.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms. You feel sick in an unusual way, more affected than you want to be. Your father does not know or care if you have ever sought Felix for comfort, so he does not know or care if it hurts for Felix to betray you. Felix is doing his job and playing his part. Your father is playing his. He will make sure you learn to play yours.

And then your father says, “I agreed with his assertion. Punishing you like a child does nothing to teach you true consequences. Being my daughter puts you in a certain position in this world. Thanks to the work I have done, your place will always be above subordinate persons. When you make a mistake, when you step out of line, there will be consequences, and those consequences will not only affect you, but all those other people too.” He waves a hand and the motion draws your eye. “Felix,” he says.

The other guard approaches at your father’s gesture. The belt is folded over in his hand. Felix glances at it, his expression inscrutable, as if a shadow has fallen over his brow. He does not look at you again, even when your attention focusses on him.

Your stomach turns over then seems to drop right out of you, a sharp plummet in your gut when Felix removes his shirt with a swift tug. His motions are choppy and automatic, his face set. He faces the large desk and puts his hands on it, his back to the guard.

“What is this?” you say, looking at your father and his impassive countenance. “What are you doing? What is—”

You flinch at the crack of the belt, a full body shudder as if you were struck. But the hit was not for you. You whip around to look at Felix, his mouth pressed tightly shut and his gaze on the wall ahead. When he is struck again, his instinctive recoil is smaller than yours, merely an eye twitch and hard exhale through his nose.

You start to stand but your father yanks you down again.

“Consequences,” your father says.

The blood freezes in your veins. Sardonic, you think about how moments ago you were wishing for that icy reserve. Now it locks you in places like a cold shackle. You watch with a bemused sort of detachment, like this can’t really be happening, and only when Felix’s arm shakes and his elbow caves, doubling him over the desk, do you snap out of it. The ice melts and water runs, your eyes filling with tears as your voice claws its way up your throat, fighting, fighting, fighting until you rasp, “Enough. Stop it. Stop it!”

You have yelled at your father many times, but this scream is so loud that it reverberates in the large room. A painting shakes. The guard actually stops.

Felix lifts his head and looks at you. His expression is pinched with fury, a barrier guarding the escape of any other emotion.

You know your own face is open with all that emotion. Felix has told you before that he can read you like a book, but right now anyone could. Your masks crack and you look at him then your father with terror.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Lesson learned, I—”

Your father waves a hand. A frantic, “No!” has scarcely your left mouth before the guard hits Felix with a ferocity never once directed at you. You throw a hand over your mouth, horrified as Felix loses composure, face screwed up with pain as he collapses on the desk. A bit of skin is torn right off his back and you look away, sick, before everything goes quiet.

The guard steps back. Felix is breathing loudly. Your hand is shaking when your father pries it off your mouth.

“Thank you, Felix,” your father says. “I’ll send someone to administer first aid.” Like this is a casual workplace injury. Like he didn’t just—because of you—and—

You can’t look at Felix. You stare at the ground, still shaking, your breathing as ragged as his.

“That’s all right,” Felix says in a remarkably steady voice. He clears his throat. “I can take care of myself.”

Whatever happens next is a blur. The room empties and your father administers a lecture, looking very self-satisfied. When other things transpire out of his control, it is clearly reassuring to exert power where he can. He just as clearly believes he has finally got the permanent best of you. He might not be wrong.

You walk in a hazy shuffle, out the door, up the stairs. Near the top step, your pace quickens. You find yourself crashing through the bedroom doorway, only snapping out of your stunned trance when you see Felix. He is laying facedown on the bed, his bare and bleeding back a red canvas of pain.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I’ll get up. Just… give me a sec—”

You shove the door closed and approach the bed, your hands hovering with no where to go. You stare at his bare backside, the angry red lines and the long stripe where he is bleeding. You reach, your fingers shaking, then you withdraw.

“I know, I know, I’m crazy,” he says dryly. “In my defense, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“That,” you say. “What was—”

Your voice cracks and disappears. You cannot find it again. Felix finally turns his head, somehow looking more composed than you despite the pain he must be in. Surprise is his most prominent emotion, deepening to confusion as he stares at you in your state. Then he exhales and closes his eyes, finally scrunching his face in pain.

“I didn’t think…” he says. He takes another deep breath. “I told your father I would… volunteer… for this… But that’s because I… I thought you didn’t…”

Your eyes meet. You stare at each other with equal intensity, your stare still rife with terror and his wet with grief.

“They would have stopped sooner,” Felix says, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “If they thought you didn’t care, it would have stopped sooner. I thought it would—I thought you didn’t—”

“Be quiet,” you finally say. You wipe the tears when they fall, then shake your head like you are scolding yourself. Your voice is shaky when you say, “Just don’t speak.”

I thought you didn’t care about me, was undoubtedly what he meant to say. He thought he could volunteer to take a beating for you and that you would be so stone-faced and indifferent, maybe even happy to see him suffering, that your father would not waste time with a prolonged punishment.

But you did care. Your father saw and your father acted accordingly.

I’m sorry, does not suffice as a reply. Sorry for running just to win an argument? Sorry for sitting there and watching them hit you?

Sorry I care about you. I wish I just hated you.

“I can take care of it,” Felix says when you fetch a first aid kit and sit on the bed. He says that, but he hisses when he tries to move. His arms shake with uncharacteristic weakness when he pushes himself up.

“Lay down, stupid,” you say, laying a clean cloth over the wound to soak up the blood.

He laughs. It is a little breathless, but it is that familiar deep rumble of mostly happy sound. Your face feels hot and your stomach rolls over with a topsy-turvy mess of feelings.

You quietly clean and apply medicinal ointment to his back. He lays with his chin on the back of his hands, staring for a while at the headboard, then looking at you. You can feel him looking, his gaze like a touch as it wanders your face, but you do not look away from your task.

When you are done, the injury still looks vicious. You know it will get worse before it gets better, the marked skin already darkening, but it will heal. You tenderly brush your fingertips over a line, gathering excess salve.

“I don’t remember what we were fighting about,” he says, “but I think won now, yeah?”

You suck in a breath to stop yourself from laughing. He laughs, still deep but more boisterous. It ends with a hiss of pain as he moves too much. You shake your head, biting your lip.

“Serves you right,” you say. “None of this is funny.”

“Uh-huuuh.” The weirdo is still chuckling.

“Well, don’t worry about the future.” You busy yourself with packing up the first aid kit so you don’t have to meet his eye when you say, “It won’t happen again. I’ll hate you and I’ll make sure he knows it.”

“Mm.” He watches you fold the cloth, over and over, his freckled cheek squished into the pillow. “I’d say you should offer to do it yourself, but I’ve seen you on a rampage, kicking a vending machine for not giving you your change, sooo… I think I’ll take my chances with them.”

“Keep up the jokes and I really will hit you,” you say with no animosity.

“Right,” Felix says, smirking into the bedsheets, “because you hate me.”

“Yes,” you say, still not meeting his eye. It convinces no one when you say, “Because I hate you.”

That night Felix is restless, forced to lay on his front. He shifts and twitches and groans, tugging a pillow of his head to whine into the sheets. He can’t get comfortable.

You open your arms to him. You think he might reject you. Though Felix is trusted with his work and they never intrude, there are other people in the house tonight, so it is a little reckless.

Usually, he would be careful, but you think he might feel a certain resignation. A dam has been broken, a wall torn down. The worst has happened and you’re still here.

He looks at you thoughtfully then slides across the bed. You realize too late his shirtlessness adds another level of intimacy. Your face and neck and chest all feel hot, plus there is a sensation like butterfly wings fluttering in your belly, but you swallow it down and stare at the ceiling as Felix carefully lays against you. He also seems to realize the awkwardness, the tips of his ears red hot with embarrassment when he puts his head on your chest.

You both lay there, stiff as boards, awkward and young and ridiculous.

Eventually, your nervousness bubbles out of you in the form of a strangled laugh. Your emotions are swinging on a rapid-moving pendulum and all that terror and sadness turns to a random euphoric burst of laughter. Felix lifts his head and looks at you, laughing just because you are. It goes on for a while, Felix the first to recover.

“Shh,” he finally says, stifling himself. He props himself up on an elbow, leaning over you, and puts a hand over your lips to keep you quiet.

Your heart stutters, stops, starts, and you stare at him through the blue dark of your room. His mouth opens but he doesn’t say anything. He slowly slides his hand off your mouth. Neither of you move, the newfound silence covering you like a fuzzy blanket.

He flicks his head to toss his shaggy bangs out of his eyes. The red is vibrant even in the dark. You are touching his hair before you can think about why you shouldn’t touch him at all.

He looks his age again, wide-eyed and nervous. Apparently bracing himself for a beating is not a daunting task, but you touching his hair is petrifying.

You twist a dyed lock around your finger. After some consideration, you ask, “Do you like the red?”

“Uhh… I preferred the, uh, the blonde, but, uh, yeah, I guess…” His voice sounds a little lower. He clears his throat. “I just can’t figure it out. Ha.”

“Hmm,” you say, letting him go. “Maybe we can figure it out together.” That sounds like a heavy promise, implicitly about more than just a hair colour. It registers with him, his brow furrowing. You quickly deflect by adding, “Because we’re gonna be seniors soon. You can’t spend your last year of high school with bad hair.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes, smiling.

“Not like I’m a real student,” he says, “but suuure. Sounds good. Thanks.”

You look down the length of his back. You think about how he described his life now as calm, compared to whatever came before. This is the lesser of two evils, this shoving and hitting and dehumanizing. The pendulum swings back and your throat clogs with a sob. You manage to swallow it down but you have to look away from him. Your hand blindly settles in his hair, absently feathering strands between your fingers.

“You don’t need to say it like that,” you say. “You’re still a real person.”

You look at him only because he does not answer. He is staring at you, lips drawn into a line and brows knit together.

“Some people might disagree,” he says in a very low, soft voice, almost conspiratorially.

Your heart skips a beat. You roll your eyes. “Like my father?” you ask. “Well. I never agree with him on anything. You know that.”

“Yeah,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips again. “Uh, yeah, I definitely know that.” A joking tone returns and he pulls a sarcastic face, like that much should be obvious.

“Be quiet,” you say, lightly teasing. “Just go to sleep.”

Your hand is still in his hair so you yank him down. You stifle a laugh when he hits your chest with a squeak. He clears his throat, forcing a stern expression as he turns his face so he is not completely planted in your cleavage.

“Good night, Felix,” you say.

“All right,” he says. “Good night.”

You fall asleep first. He is sensible enough to slide back to his side of the bed before properly sleeping. The motion stirs you and you instinctively reach for him. Your hand falls open between you. He takes it and holds it, palm to palm, and you fall asleep once more.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #bodyguard au

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iluvies · 3 months

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I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU UNCONDITIONALLY ft. suguru geto

summary: it wasn’t only hard on him, it was hard on you too. the distance between you and the longing touches. wanting nothing but peace on his mind, you try to shoo away all of the thoughts drowning him with unease and hopelessness.

warnings — angst, fluff?, suggestive content, mentions of sex

“suguru?” you had repeated for the umpteenth time, your hand faintly grazing his shoulder. his eyes flutter a little, slowly drifting towards yours. “yes, baby?” suguru finally answered absentmindedly, brushing some hair away from your face. these past few weeks were lonely, even as he sat beside you now. his insecurities and weariness was evident in the way he’d gaze at nothing in particular, not only letting it consume his thoughts, but it had been taking up a lot of his time with you too. you hated the dull expression on his face, even as he’d try and smile reassuringly whilst telling you he’s okay.

you tilted your head slightly to the side, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “what are you thinking about?” the tremble in your voice always made him feel guilty, as did every other time. suguru wanted to spill his heart out to you, kiss your lips to shake off your worries, and hold you in his arms until someone had to pry him off. . . but he couldn’t. his throat would tighten, the feeling of an unforgiving presence squeezing his neck with rough hands, shortening his breath.

“nothing, just lost in your eyes.” he said, caressing your cheek with his thumb. ‘how many more excuses would he give you until he ran out?’ you’d think to yourself, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch with a shaky sigh.

oh how pretty you looked, how nice your warm skin felt against his. . . but you deserved better, so much better than someone like him. it was thoughts like this that caused him to spiral. the nasty thoughts that caused him to swallow back any words he wanted to tell you—to reassure you. suguru didn’t want you to worry about him more than you needed to, in fact, he didn’t want you to worry about him at all. he wanted to be the person you could feel at ease with, the person you could lean your head against, the boyfriend you could smile at without a care in the world. he trusts you, so why can’t he tell you what’s racing through his mind?

“i miss you, suguru.” you whispered softly. of course you did. he was always there with you; hands grasping your hips as he grinds his against yours in the comfort of your bed, his thigh pressed against the place you desperately needed him to touch when you two were tangled together on the floor, his lips ghosting over your collarbone while the both of you wait for your food in a restaurant, teeth nibbling on the back of your neck after you two finished chasing your orgasms.

it felt like he was getting further away from you with each stuttered breath of his, “i miss you so much.”

silence engulfed you, bringing forth a certain anxiety to well inside your stomach. your hand finds the front of his shirt, gripping it weakly as you hold your breath. tears wanted to fight their way out of your eyes, to show suguru how much it hurts to be left in the open without anything to think of him and his empty words, but the feeling of his hand pushing you forward and into his chest makes you pause. his face moves towards the crook of your neck, and that’s when you feel it. the sorrow filled droplets of water hitting your skin while quiet sobs fell from his lips.

“i’m sorry.” suguru’s voice breaking as he spoke, his eyelashes fluttering against your neck whilst he tries blinking his tears away. you felt selfish for feeling the way you did. “don’t apologize for something you can’t help. it’s okay, baby. you’re okay.” you consoled, peppering a few delicate kisses to the side of his head.

he shook his head, bringing his hand up to the back of your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. “you deserve someone better than me,” he whispered, “you deserve someone who’ll be there for you.” you wrapped your arms around him, dragging your nails against his back daintily. if you could, you would do anything to make sure he never felt sad again. obviously reality dragged you back down to your feet where you could only do so much to help him.

“i want you, suguru. i only want you.”

his head turned so that his eyes could meet your hopeful ones, the ones he found himself staring into whenever he could. “why?” he’d asked you. you could think of a million answers to that question—it came easy to you—yet to suguru, his mind was blank. why would you want him of all people when there were so many who would devote their entire being to you? “it feels right to want your touch and yours alone. i love the feeling of your skin against mine, the sound of your heartbeat in my ears, and the taste of you on my tongue.” you replied, pressing your forehead to his.

suguru encased your lips into a needy kiss, letting you hold his face between both of your hands as his find the plushiest part of your thighs. “i love you so much, y’know that?” you murmured in between quiet gasps of breaths, his own reciprocation of your words falling off his tongue in a sweet murmur too.

“i need you.” suguru said, reluctantly pulling away from the kiss for a few moments, looking into your eyes with lustful fervor, although the vulnerability you wanted to see wasn’t there. he was still hesitant. hesitant to show you how he truly felt, in fear you found him too much to handle. but you could never let go of him, not when he unknowingly had you wrapped around his finger. “i don’t want to lose you.” he muttered, sucking light marks onto your neck as he watched your expressions attentively.

“you won’t, suguru. i’ll always love you unconditionally.”

(o´ω`o)ﾉ note from luvie: happy birthday, suguru! even though this post wasn’t about opening presents or sharing birthday wishes, i finished this draft i started a month or two ago. it wasn’t supposed to be too angsty, but i needed something to move my heart a little.

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chiefdirector · 4 months

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Breaking and Entering | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Tim blinked himself awake. Heavy with sleep he looked over to his alarm clock, mentally swearing at himself for waking up at 3:37 in the morning. He knew why though, the knowledge that they could die at any moment had been plaguing his thoughts, and now his dreams.

He knew that sleep would not come naturally for him for at least another hour. I had always been a bad habit of his. It started when he was still in the military and the constant noise and activity in the base camp kept waking him; usually he would go for a run or do some housework to burn some energy but as he shifted back onto his side, he couldn't find it in himself to leave the bed.

Soft moonlight shone through the crack between the curtains and gently illuminated the (Y/N). She had changed so much in the years they spent apart, it was as if she had lost a part of her soul. When she smiled, her smile didn’t fully reach her eyes, her laugh seemed somewhat hollow, and her demeanour was very guarded. She had begun to pull herself away from Tim’s touches as if she was guarding herself from being hurt. That had briefly disappeared though.

Sleep had restored the peacefulness that Tim had fallen in love with and for a moment, he could pretend that nothing bad had happened.

Slowly, Tim reached across to run his fingers down her cheek and for the first time since he had found her again, (Y/N) didn’t flinch at his touch.

----------

Around 6:30, Tim woke for the second time. This time he was greeted by an empty bed. For a moment, he had thought he dreamed the last days and that he was alone again. His fears faded as he heard (Y/N)’s panicked calls for him echoing throughout the house. Quickly, he grabbed his gun from his bedside drawer and made his way throughout their home.

As he made his way through the house, he looked around for any signs of what could be wrong. He didn’t look long before he saw (Y/N) looking at their backdoor. “Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?”

“The lock,” (Y/N) stood back from the door, allowing Tim to get closer. She watched as he placed his firearm down as he moved to inspect the lock. “It’s been broken. I found the door open. Someone was here last night.”

Tim reached for his gun again. “Crap. Did you check the rest of the house or did you come straight here?”

“I came straight down here, I thought you may want a coffee.”

“Right okay, I'll call 911, and you call Grey. We need to stay here until this thing is reported and added to the caseload. I highly doubt this was a coincidence.”

-----

It didn’t take long for their home to be flooded with cops. Grey had turned up first, he was still in his jogging bottoms and shirt he had been sleeping in. He had rushed out of bed to get to their house, barely taking the time to grab his gun and badge.

It had taken all the reservation he had to not burst through the front door to go find Tim and (Y/N). Instead he tried the spare key (Y/N) had given him when they had moved in and tried it in the lock. He found (Y/N) sat on the sofa, her leg shaking up and down in anxiety with Tim beside her trying to ground her.

“Thank God you guys are okay’” he said, walking into the room, “What happened? I didn’t get a lot of details over the phone.”

“(Y/N) found the lock on the back door broken. Someone had broken in. Nothing valuable has been taken, not that we could think of anyway. However our cabinets have been gone through. I think they were looking for something. And if they didn’t get it, they’ll be back.” Tim said, moving away from his wife and towards Grey. As he got closer, he lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. “She’s been like this since she called you. I think she blames herself.”

Grey hummed in agreement. There had been many times where he had talked (Y/N) out of a spiral of self-loathing and distress. He also knew from these times that it was sometimes better to let herself start to calm down alone. “I saw you had a camera doorbell. Did it happen to catch anything?”

“No,” Tim sighed, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “I checked. It was disconnected. I don’t think it’s unrelated.”

“You’re right to not write it off. I’ll mention it to the detectives.” As of one cue, the sound of car doors slamming echoed from the street and into the house. “Both of you, take the day off today. You’ve got a lot to deal-“

“No.” (Y/N)’s head snapped up. “I need to go in. This is my mess. I’m the reason this happened. I need to be there to stop it.”

Grey sighed, “You know we have a whole team working on this. You need to take care of yourself. We’ll have a unit placed outside so you needn’t worry. You’ve had an eventful start to the day, take the time you need to rest.”

(Y/N)’s eyes hardened in a way neither man had seen before. She almost looked like she had been possessed by the personification of rage and determination. “I’ll rest when we catch this sorry son of a bitch.”

——-

“I’m worried about her,” Tim said to Grey after the detectives had taken his statement of events. “She’s changed.”

“It’s been a long time since she’s been home, Tim. Of course change will have happened.”

“You saw what she was like earlier. It was like a switch flipped in her mind. Who knows what she went through all that time, what she did to survive. She doesn’t talk about it; I asked once, I got no response. It was as if she left reality.”

Grey looked over to (Y/N) and then back to Tim. “Do you not think that she should be working this case.”

“No, it’s giving her something to focus on… and the closure may help her.”

“And what if it doesn’t.”

“Well that’s what I’m here for. I’ll always make sure she finds her way home.”

Part Eleven | Part Thirteen

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie imagine #the rookie #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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cait-with-luv · 1 year

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Little Leopard [4]

"If it weren't for seven men that fateful night you wouldn't be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard."

Header Credit: Me

Pairing: OT7 X Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Hybrid! AU, Strangers to Lovers! AU, Rich!BTS, Fluff, Angst, eventual smut, Polyamorous!BTS

Warnings: Mentions of murder, abuse, sexual assault, drugs, PTSD, explicit language, body dysmorphia, anxiety, body branding (Not sure if this is a warning but putting it anyway)

Word Count: 5.1K

PREV | NEXT

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“We need to talk.”

The boys pause and look at each other before Seokjin is clearing his throat and gestures to Namjoon to speak first but he holds his hand up and shakes his head. It seemed they all had things to discuss.

“You guys should go first. We have a lot to explain.” Namjoon urges his eldest boyfriend, leaning back into the couch, smiling slightly as Jungkook takes his hand into his and squeezes it reassuringly. He could see how stressed his partner was. They could all see it. They couldn’t blame him either, he had been working day and night along with Yoongi and Hoseok to try and find you in the system and find the cruel human that had left you to die in the alley and they were constantly reaching dead ends. It was like you didn’t even exist.

“Well, I’m taking her with me to the clinic tomorrow, if anyone is free you can come with me, I don’t know how she’ll react in a medical environment, I need to do a full physical checkup. Whilst we were out, we took her to get a collar so she can come out with us more often and I asked if she needed anything else, she picked up heat suppressants, she was forced to have them every day, we explained to her how bad they were and when I asked when her last heat was, guys she hasn’t had one for around two to three years, it’s dangerous, Leopards are meant to have heats every two to three months. If she’ll ever have one again is beyond me and if she does get one, it’s going to be intense, most likely more painful too. I have to check she’s physically doing okay.” Seokjin delineates watching their faces harden. The system had really failed you.

“I’ll go with you. I’m working from home tomorrow anyway, I have things to do away from the station.” Hoseok says and runs a hand through his hair, he was already in a bad mood. The things that had been revealed today had sent the usually calm and collected man into a spiral of anger and disappointment.

“You guys aren’t going to like what we have to tell you…” Yoongi trails off shaking his head, he couldn’t believe what they had found, how they managed for it to slip through the cracks. He was ashamed. He felt like he needed to do better. Because who knows how many more had managed to be missed.

“We did more background searching on her. We couldn’t find her at all in the system, so we were beginning to assume she was illegally being ‘owned’, Hobi came to help out and we had to dig really deep. We eventually managed to find her documents she was under a false name and under Snow Leopard instead of her actual hybrid breed an Amur Leopard. Meaning someone in the protection company had either been paid off to turn a blind eye or worked for the person but when we went to check her owners' files we discovered that he’s deceased, he died three years ago, cause of death was homicide so Hobi did a little digging into it but it means he was not her last owner, someone else had taken her, possibly the one who killed her last ‘owner’.” Namjoon frowns and Hoseok reaches into his bag for the file and hands it to Taehyung who begins to read it, Jimin and Seokjin reading over his shoulders.

“Yun Jong-Dae, aged forty at the time of his death, his autopsy had shown that he had strangulation, gunshot wounds, a disturbing amount of ketamine in him, enough to kill an elephant, any one of these could have been the cause, someone really wanted him dead but the case went cold, they couldn’t find who killed him. He had a criminal record too. Gang affiliation, abuse, sexual assault, drug use and possession, attempted murder. He was a terrible person. I found receipts of multiple reports made to his house too. Neighbors had called us concerned, saying they constantly heard yelling and screams coming from his house but the officers that went to the scene did nothing saying they saw nothing suspicious. I checked which officers went to the address and every single one was from my division. She was in that fucking house and my station failed her. I am now in the process of checking every incident they’ve been reported to and having them suspended.” Hoseok fumes, jaw clenched in rage. He could have had you saved earlier if it weren’t for his own colleagues turning a blind eye.

“Y-You don’t think he you know…” Jimin murmurs anxiously. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, the word left a bitter taste in his mouth, it made him nauseous to think about you having to suffer like that.

“As much as we want to think that he didn’t the chances that he did…assault her is likely. We can’t make her tell us either alright? She may tell us one day. We go at her pace okay?” Yoongi declares, he did not want you to feel like you had to do anything. He wants you to know you can make all your own choices from here on out.

They all nod in agreement and sit in silence, taking in everything that had been revealed, they were all filled with rage, guilt, and shame. For a while, you had been right under their noses and they hadn’t had a clue.

It was progress, finding out more about your background, they knew that but they also knew they still had a lot more to go. It was not going to be an easy process and it was going to be tedious but for you? They had all the patience in the world.

“Where do we go from here? What’s our next step? Because she’s basically a stray hybrid right? She’s now isn’t legally under anyone so we can adopt her? It will secure her safety with us and prevent her from being put back into the system and going through hell again. I can have the papers easily by tomorrow.” Taehyung says closing the file and handing it back to Hoseok.

“Technically yes but we can just have her sign papers Tae baby, we want her to have her own opinion on this and consent. We want to give her options not take them away from her like has had all her life. This is something we need to sit down with her and talk about and we don’t know what the process is going to be like for her, she could be put in a shelter for observations and for our pending papers to be approved.” Namjoon sighs but Taehyung shakes his head.

“It won’t be a difficult process, I can have us down as her foster home so she’ll still be able to stay with us until the papers are approved, she isn’t under a shelter, she has no owner, they can’t place her in a place she wasn’t at the beginning with. The process will be simple but I understand where you’re coming from, we want her approval before we start it.” Taehyung clarifies with a nod of his head. Yoongi opens his mouth to talk but closes it, the conversation coming to an end suddenly as they hear you walk down the stairs, giving you a soft smile as you step into the living room timidly.

“Hey Cub, did you have a nice shower? You even got some new pajamas? You look much comfier now.” Yoongi grins, almost cooing at the sight of you clutching your tail in your hands, shuffling in your spot shyly as you nod curtly, a low chuckle leaving his mouth. You were too cute.

“Want me to brush your hair and put it up for you Sweetpea?” Hoseok asks softly, patting the empty spot beside him for you to sit.

“I-It’s okay Hoseok, thank you though, is it okay if I go to bed instead of watching a movie? I-I didn’t realize how tired I was.” You whisper immediately getting smiles at you and nods. How could they tell you no? You were too sweet.

“Of course, you can go to bed Princess, you don’t have to ask, we can always watch a movie another day, there’s plenty of time to, sleep well okay? Remember if you need anything at all you can always come to us.” Namjoon cooed, giving you a dimpled smile that almost had your knees going weak. It was one of the prettiest smiles you had seen. They all murmur soft goodnights and sleep wells until Jungkook stands up and pouts at you,

“Hey, Sweet Girl, I promised I’d help you with your skincare routine and how to use the things I got you, you gotta take care of it now, Baby, come on let’s go get you properly ready for bed.”

—

“Hey, Jungkookie?” You hum as he helps with your skincare routine with the products he had gotten you before at the mall. You had figured out that you had sensitive skin just like him so he had bought you some products that he uses to help protect and soothe his own skin so now after your shower, he was helping you apply them, demanding that you have to take care of your skin so you don’t have sore skin.

He smiles softly at the nickname, gently applying a toner onto your face and almost cooing at your innocent eyes staring at him curiously, watching his every move wondering what he was doing. He sometimes wondered how on earth you were a leopard hybrid. You were more like a kitten or a rabbit.

“Yes, Sweet Girl?” He asks with a smile on his face, raising an eyebrow at your hesitation to continue with what you wanted to say. He pats your head as a reassurance that you could talk to him without worrying, nodding as you open your mouth to speak.

“What do you all do for a living?” You ask quietly, noticing the look of surprise on his face, he hadn’t expected you to ask about their careers but he was willing to answer. If it meant getting you to open up to them more and gaining your trust more then he’d answer. It wasn’t like they had anything to hide anyway.

“Well, we all work in different things but we all work together in a way if that makes sense? Our jobs link us together. Not really mine but sometimes. Namjoonie Hyung and Yoongi Hyung work together the most. Namjoon is the founder and CEO of a Hybrid Protection company and Yoongi is the deputy CEO. They help any and every hybrid who needs it, whether they be a stray, from an abusive home, fight rings, auctions, literally anything. They make sure that no matter where the hybrid comes from they are safe and get everything they need. I guess sometimes I help out if they have too much on their hands." He begins smiling slightly. He was always proud of what his partners do, he places aside the products before focusing his attention on you and continuing,

"Hobi Hyung is a detective in the police force. He works on all kinds of cases. He likes to mostly solve hybrid-related cases, knowing that other stations can usually turn them down and go for human ones. He wants them to get given justice just as equally as humans do. Jin Hyung is a Hybrid Medical Doctor. He treats all Hybrids' injuries and any illnesses they may have, he wants to save and care for as many hybrids as he can, it breaks his heart if he can’t. Tae Tae is a Hybrid Representative Lawyer. He basically supports any Hybrid in court and stuff like that, whether it be a change in adoption, abuse cases, or all sorts. Jiminie owns his own Hybrid Shelter. So he takes in any abandoned, stray, recently removed from abusive homes, even abandoned hybrid infants and children. He gives them a home they may have never gotten, and treatments for anything from medical or mentally, they have a choice of wanting to stay and live there or have a chance to have another home. He is so thorough with checking every single person’s background who comes in wanting to adopt. He’s very protective of them all.” Jungkook explains chuckling as you stare at him in awe, they were doing something barely anyone would do.

They all work with something related to hybrids. Wanting to protect them and give them more rights. Live an equal life as humans, to end the oppression and stigmas against Hybrids. Activists in a way. But you frown when you realize something. He had left himself out. He told you everything about his partners but not about himself.

“Well…what about you Jungkook? What do you do?” You ask as he sits in front of you and sighs giving you a small smile, taking your hands into his, and looking down at them. Was he uncomfortable about talking about his career?

“Mine’s…a bit more boring than theirs, Sweet girl. I don’t wanna bore you.” He says looking back up at you but you shake your head at him with a pout.

“Nothing about you is boring Jungkookie.” You murmur, a blush coming to your cheeks when you realize what you had said out loud, purring when Jungkook pecks your forehead and smiles at you in appreciation.

“Thank you, baby, that was kind of you. I’m…a hybrid tattoo artist. Yeah I know it's not as extravagant as the others huh? I was just an average tattoo artist just tattooing humans but when I worked in a studio we had so many hybrid’s coming in wanting tattoos and my boss would just…turn them away. But they weren’t coming for a tattoo for the fun of it. They were coming in to cover up something that reminded them of their past. Like a bad scar or tattoo of their number they were given from fight rings or even brandings. I felt like it was unfair, they just wanted a fresh start and they weren’t getting a chance to do that so I left and I opened my own studio for Hybrids. I don’t charge them anything so I don’t really get much profit, I get some humans from time to time and they pay because they want to keep my business running but I refuse to charge a Hybrid for wanting to cover up something traumatic to them. I know it’s not much but if it makes a difference for them to live a happier life, to show them that there are humans that care for them then I’m happy and hopefully I’ve somewhat of a difference.” He murmurs and your heart swells. His job was anything but boring, he had a job that would make a massive impact on a hybrid's life.

“That’s…the kindest thing I’ve ever heard Jungkookie. What all of you do. It’s amazing, I’ve never met anyone who cares so much about us, it’s special and I think I speak for all hybrids when I say this. Thank you. For being our voice…for being the ones to protect us and make us feel…normal. You should be proud of what you do. I may not be the greatest at expressing my emotions or understanding the simplest of things but if it weren’t for you guys. I would have had no future, I wouldn’t be able to have my eyes opened to the good in the world. I’m very very grateful and I promise to work hard on my healing and become a person you can be proud of.” You say shyly looking down, feeling your heart race.

Jungkook stared at you with a pout on his lips, squeezing your hands and taking a deep breath in. It was taking everything in him to not cry. It was the first time you had openly spoken about how you were comfortable living with them and how grateful you were for everything that they do for you. The first time he had heard someone really thank him and the boys for what they do. It only motivated him more. To give you a better life. To give hybrids around the world a better life.

“Thank you so much Y/N, I didn’t know how much I needed to hear that. But, Sweet Girl, you don’t need to thank us for what we do for you. It’s the right thing to do. And I don’t think you understand how proud of you we are already, you’re doing so well. I know how difficult it must have been for you to trust us after everything you’ve been through, it must have been scary. You are so strong and brave. The bravest person I know. You have a future now and it’s only going to get better from here on out.” Jungkook says, gently lifting your head to look at him and he gives you a look of admiration. Proud written all over his and with all your courage you quickly place a kiss on his cheek, both of your eyes going wide and cheeks flushing red. It took him by surprise but his heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting it but now he wanted more. It felt like a warm hug. Like a dew-freckled petal caught in a breeze, so soft and with the smallest hint of coolness. He will never forget this moment. This was a memory to remember.

“W-What was that for?” He stammers out and you shift in your spot and shrug, a shy giggle leaving your lips. He could have passed out right then and there, his heart was in frenzy. He couldn’t how adorable you were. It was too much.

“I…I don’t know…it just felt right to do? I’m sorry d-did I overstep?” You murmur nervously and he shakes his head quickly, a massive grin appearing on his face. He looked lovestruck. Like a teenage boy with a massive crush on his classmate. And he was beginning to feel like one. He loved six people already, and his heart had already felt full but now…now he realizes there was room for just one more person.

“You didn’t overstep baby, just nearly made my heart explode that’s all with how cute you are.” He teases making you laugh and shake your head at him before your thoughts begin to trail remembering that his job was tattooing. Specifically Hybrids. You had something you wanted gone. Something you may not be able to really see yourself but you knew it was there. Would he help you get rid of it one day?

“Actually Jungkook…you’re a tattoo artist, c-could…c-could you cover something for me one day? W-When I’m ready?” You ask, feeling your heart race with fear and insecurity. You were about to let him step into your past. Not much but it was enough to have you terrified. What would he think?

He frowns but nods slowly, noting your hesitation. He had seen many of your scars but there must be one prominent one that played on your mind a lot, one that he may have not seen but it worried me. Just how bad was it to have you practically trembling with fear? He could almost feel the anxiety coming off you.

“Sweet girl, it’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid, I will never judge you, you don’t even have to show me it yet or even tell me how you got it. I’m not going to make you, everything you do is at your own pace, not ours.” He reassures but you shake your head, taking a deep breath. You need to do this. This was something that you needed to get off your chest no matter how much it reminded you of your past. This was part of healing right? Overcoming the trauma.

“I need to do this. I’ve got to. I want to overcome this.” You murmur before slowly turning around so your back was facing him and biting your cheek to hold back the tears already welling up in your eyes, slowly lifting your shirt up to show him your back, shutting your eyes as you hear his breath hitch and the smell of anger hit your nose. This was one thing you hated. How you could sense pheromone changes. Jungkook’s once soft linen and lavender scent now smelt burnt and sour. The scent overwhelming your sensitive nose with how strong it was.

Jungkook was relieved you couldn’t see his face though. His face contorted from concern, to worry and lastly anger. Rage. People made him sick. He felt ashamed that he was human. Because all they know how to do in the world is oppress, and discriminate. Hurt others. Hurt Hybrids. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. The branding on your left shoulder blade will forever be imprinted in his mind. How the skin was slightly risen and horribly scarred. He can’t imagine the pain you suffered from it. From getting it to the healing. It must have been excruciating. He could tell it must have suffered an infection at some point from how poorly healed it was. His stomach churned as he leans closer and just about manages to read it.

‘Property of Kang Seo-Jun’’

“Baby…W-Was this who you were stuck with previously?” Jungkook whispers, feeling tears well up in his eyes. No wonder why you wanted it gone. He would no doubt cover it for you. Decorating your shoulder with something so pretty and bright, you’ll forget that it was even a cover-up for it. Not a single memory of it in your mind again. Completely erased.

“Y-Yeah. It i-is. You must be disgusted right? I am. H-He took away any of my belonging. The l-little ownership I had of myself. I will never forget him. H-He haunts my dreams every night. I feel like I can hear his voice still sometimes. He was by far the worst owner I had. T-The night he took me, he had some of his men pin me down and burnt it onto my skin. T-The pain was unbearable. I-I still feel it sometimes if I think about it long enough. H-He hurt me so much. H-He enjoyed my pain. H-He did s-so much but I’m not ready to open up about it yet. He l-laughed as he did it. Called me his ‘little bitch’, and all I was to him w-was a punching bag for his entertainment and pleasure. I-I really wanted to die. I really thought h-he was going to kill me eventually. I-I can’t go back there Jungkook. I can’t. H-He really will make sure I’m dead. I was meant to die that night.” You sob covering your face, whimpering as Jungkook lifts the shirt up again that you had let go of and soothingly rubs up and down your spine, his heart aching at how your tail sadly flicks slightly. From hearing how much you really had been through even if it was just the surface.

“Oh sweet girl, you are safe now. We will never let anyone hurt you again. He will never come near you again and he will be punished for this. Soon he will be a distant memory. Someone completely irrelevant to you. He has taken nothing from you. You are your own person. You have your very much-deserved freedom now, baby. Everything he may have ever told you is nothing but horrible lies. I am so so sorry you had to endure this and everything else you have gone through. You are so beautiful in your own unique way. I am not disgusted by you and neither are the boys. You will never experience anything like this again. You did so well telling me a little bit about your past. I’m so proud of you. You were so brave. Everything is going to be okay now. I promise you. I swear to you.” He says so softly, hesitating before placing a gentle kiss on your scar before pulling back and a small smile appearing at your little shudder from feeling his lips on your skin but it wasn’t from being uncomfortable, Jungkook knew it wasn’t from the way you relaxed.

You say nothing, too in shock from the gentle kiss he placed, from how you managed to open up and how he never interrupted you, just sat and listened to you, and then reassured you he was proud of you and was not disgusted in you. You had never felt this way before. You couldn’t put your finger on it. You didn’t know what this emotion was but you hoped that in the future you would understand it. Know what it was because it felt warm, strong yet comforting. It had your heart racing but in a good way. And you wanted to feel more of it.

“I hate to ask this but can I take a photo of this Sweet girl? Don’t panic, it’s okay, it’s just because this will be evidence baby. Against him. It will help Hobi hyung in finding him and having evidence against him to get him arrested and locked up. It will help Taehyungie in court for you. That’s all. We want to get you justice.” He elucidates when he feels you tense. You didn’t want the others to know but you knew if you wanted to feel completely safe, he needed to be prosecuted. They need to know to make it happen so you nod curtly, swallowing the lump in your throat but the nod wasn’t enough for Jungkook. He needed vocal consent.

“Words Sweet Girl. I need to hear your consent, not just a visual one. Verbal consent is very important in this home baby.” He murmurs, nodding in approval as he hears you whisper an ‘okay’ before quickly snapping a photo and checking it and quickly turning his phone off and throwing it aside, and turning you around to finally face him, wiping the tears that slid down your cheeks.

“Permission to hold you in my arms?” He asks, brushing hair out your face before gently tugging you into his arms as you nod and begin to move into his lap. You tuck your head into the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around tightly and sways side to side, biting back a chuckle as you begin to subconsciously scent him, rubbing your head into his neck, a low happy purr leaving your lips. He felt so content and happy. You were finally listening to your animal instincts and relieving any urge you may have had but never realized. The more you got comfortable with them, the more your leopard came out. And with that, you finally lulled to sleep. The quickest you had ever fallen asleep. The safest you had ever felt to fall asleep.

Not a single thought in mind.

—

“Kang Seo-Jun”

“Huh?”

“She opened up to me a little. The sick bastard that left her in that alley, his name is Kang Seo-Jun.” Jungkook grits out, opening his phone and going to his gallery, clicking on the photo he had taken and practically shoving his phone into Hoseok’s face.

“This is what she showed me, I got permission from her of course to take the photo. We’ve really underestimated how much she’s been through guys. We knew it was severe but I never imagined the actual extent.” He whimpers sitting down and holding his head in his hands. He wanted to break down in front of you but he knew he couldn’t, not when you were in tears yourself reliving the memories, he had to be strong for you but now, he could let it out.

“Can I send this to myself love bug? I need this evidence.” Hoseok breathes out, he could feel the anger boiling the longer he stared at the photo, quickly sending it to himself when he gets a silent nod from Jungkook and passing the phone to Yoongi and so on, each of their faces contorting to undeniable rage.

“Kookie talk to us, what did she tell you? How did you manage to get her to open up to you?” Yoongi asks faintly, he could visibly see the distress the boy was in. He didn’t want to tip him off the edge. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat before looking up and begins to explain to them how you had asked about what they all do career-wise, telling them how you thanked them all for what they do and how your body language had changed as you asked him to cover up the branding when you were ready which lead you to show him and telling him how you got it. By the time he had finished, he had tears falling, Hoseok was on the phone immediately demanding his colleagues to send him any information on the demented man. They were all having internal battles with their anger. Their sadness.

“Hyungs…s-she’s suffered so much. I-I just know she hasn’t even scratched the surface of her past. She deserved none of this. S-She’s too good for this world.” Jungkook sniffles, snuggling into Jimin as the older man tugs him into a hug, cradling the younger boy close and kissing the top of his head.

“She’s safe now baby, she will suffer no more. You did good. We are proud of you for how you handled it, and how you got her to open up without pushing her. It shows us how comfortable she’s getting. She felt safe to tell you. You took good care of her, well done Koo.” Taehyung reassures, snuggling into the other side of the younger boy, rubbing his arm encouragingly. It was no secret between them all that Jungkook was the most sensitive to Hybrid cruelty, having witnessed it at a young age, he understands how severe how bad it can get. He had such a big heart and they do everything they can to protect it.

“He’s right, you did great, Hoseok is going to find out everything he can on the bastard and bring him down with Taehyung, he isn’t going to get away with it, Y/N will get the justice she deserves at last. His karma is coming and it’s us. He will suffer for what he’s done.” Yoongi sneers, he could happily track him down right now and punish him for everything he’s done. He couldn’t wait to watch the twisted crook pay for his crimes. They were a step closer to finding him. A step closer to you finally having justice, and peace of mind that your trauma wasn’t for nothing.

You were their little leopard and they’d do anything for you.

-------

Taglist

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#little leopard #bts #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #jimin #jungkook #bts polyamory #bts poly #polyamorous bts #polyamory bts #poly bts #taehyung #bts hybrid au #bts strangers to lovers au #hybrid bts #ot7xhybrid reader #ot7 bts x reader

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deansapplepie · 5 months

Text

Till THE DEAD do us part |Chapter 13

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story. This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 12 Chapter 14

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 13: This group’s broken

Summary: Randall is still a problem the group needs solve and come to an agreement about. The happenings of the barn is still something shaking some people. Feelings and traumas from the past comes to haunt Y/N making her anxiety boil and overthink a lot.

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, mentions of violence, gore, suicide attempt (not narrated, but mentioned), mentions of depression, mentions of torture, mentions of execution, traumas, anxiety, mentions of abusive relationships, fear of abandonment, brief discreet mentions of sex, loss, grief. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 5,834

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. Also, there’s a bunch of warnings in this one but there’s also fluff, comfort and a bit of fun.

Finally Randall’s leg was well enough so he could survive alone in the wild that was Earth now, so Rick and Shane would carry him miles away from the farm and release him. You weren’t very happy about Rick going alone with Shane.

“Let me go with you, please.” You pleaded Rick for the millionth time, Shane wasn’t someone reliable anymore, you couldn’t risk losing your brother again and have Shane coming back with some lame excuse how he made for Otis.

“Y/N, I’m the one here with self defense skills, not you. I can handle myself well without you. I need you here.” Rick said, and that would be the last time he would tell you, he was losing his temper already. “No discussion.”

“Be careful, please. He’s dangerous.” You hugged him and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll be, don’t worry. I need this time alone with him. I’m coming back.” He assured you and hoped it would really turn out like this, because you could see the madness in his eyes, and by how we was obsessed with Lori… you didn’t doubt he would be able to do atrocities even to his ‘brother’.

After they left, you couldn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling you had on the pitch of your stomach. You were going to help around in the farm and in the house, but your mind couldn’t stop the worry. You were giving the horses water when you heard a knock on the stables door, you look to your side and you saw Daryl. As much as the idea of scaring you was tempting enough, he chose not to do so.

“Just wanted to let ya know I’m gonna hunt, maybe bring somethin’ good.” He approached you.

“Ok, be careful, please and don’t come back late. I’m already worried enough by Rick.” You said, then looked both sides and didn’t see anyone around. You tiptoed and pecked his lips.

He blushed, he had been doing way more than this with you and he blushed because you gave him a small kiss inside a stable where the only witnesses were the horses. He knew you were worried about Rick being alone with Shane, things between you and Shane had gone bad since the day of the happenings of the barn and it was just going down. When Daryl told you one night that he thought Shane had killed Otis, things spiraled really quick and you started seeing Shane with different eyes, many attitudes from him made sense actually. He wasn’t the person that you used to know anymore.

“Dun worry. Rick’s tough, he basically came back from the dead, nothing bad is happening to him.” He said, he could practically read your mind and know everything you were thinking about it.

“And you?”

“Me too. I’m gonna be careful. I promise, I’ll be back in one piece.” He gave you a quick kiss, you said your goodbyes and you went back to your chores.

Lori was inside the house helping with the chores and also helping Maggie taking care of Beth. She was still not good, she was in a state of depression that got all of you worried. Lori was preparing a lunch for Beth, so you were around the kitchen with her and Maggie. Maggie was talking about Glenn with Lori, you decided to not participate of the conversation, but you were listening to everything. Lori was more experienced on the topic of relationships, you knew what was good or not, but just theoretically. Until now you had had just one boyfriend before Daryl and it was a shitty experience, so you didn’t know if you had something wise to say even though you were older than Maggie. You thought it was a bit too much when Lori said that Glenn should man up, imagine saying it to the young man, he would be sad or really offended, or both.

“Glenn is just scared, he’s a good guy. You’re probably his first love, I can’t say it for sure, but that’s what it seems. He’ll overcome this fear of him. Don’t worry.” You passed an arm on Maggie’s shoulder and gave a little squeeze on her arm to reassure her.

“And how about you and grumpy man? Have you already said the words?” She elbowed you playfully.

“Hmm… no. Not exactly. I don’t know if it’s like this.” You said, you were always reserved about your personal matters, always keeping everything to yourself, afraid to let people know your feelings or to be exposed and feel weak. But maybe, some girl talk wouldn’t be that bad. “He said the other day I was his and I also said it to him…” You paused thinking if you’d say the other thing that came to your mind to them.

“And…?” Lori asked. “We know there’s more. Spill it.”

“He… he said that his… you know… was mine.” You blushed instantly talking about it and thinking about it. Was it correct to tell such thing to others? You never knew what was ok, and what wasn’t, but it’s not like if you were telling all the sordid details of what you two did.

Lori made a face as if she was thinking ‘wow, the man really have some balls’ and Maggie just had a fit of giggles, giving you a side hug and squeezing you. “It’s almost the same thing as saying that 3 words.” Maggie observed.

“It isn’t, this is possessiveness which is normal in relationships even the healthy ones. But anybody can have this without love.” You told Maggie, she was young, probably didn’t have unhealthy relationships she wouldn’t know. You were maybe 8 or 9 years older than her, it was a different experience, especially with broken people.

“Well… everybody can see, but we can’t stop you from being stubborn. I need to go help Glenn, but if you need anything you can call me.” She said and then turned to Lori. “Thank you so much for helping with Beth.”

“It’s nothing really.” Lori said and got the tray to give lunch for Beth.

You stayed at the house and helped Lori at the kitchen, you washed some dishes and cleaned and organized the room. After one hour or so, Lori went to Beth’s room to get the tray back. She came back with untouched food, Beth couldn’t continue like that. When she was throwing away what Beth didn’t eat, she suddenly stopped and ran from the kitchen.

“What happened? Lori?” You asked her, but she was already gone. She came back a knife in hand and in a rush.

“Go and Keep an eye on Beth. I’m gonna bring Maggie or Hershel.” She said and left.

You left the kitchen and went to Beth’s room, on your way you put the pieces together and realized Beth had hidden the knife and was probably going to attempt something against herself. Soon Lori arrived with Maggie and Andrea, Maggie asked to be left alone with Beth and all of you went back to the kitchen.

You were trying to be in good terms with Andrea again, so you decided you’d try not to talk back at her when she said stupid things, even though they were talking about Beth. You just stayed there watching while they talked Andrea thought Beth should make her own choice, which is very different from what happened with her. Beth is just a kid and she’s not dying because she was bitten, so why let her commit suicide? She should be talked to and taken care of to help her get better. You bit your tongue trying to not express yourself, but you just couldn’t contain it when Andrea brought up the fact that Lori had her husband back, her child was saved, she had a baby on the way and had a ‘boyfriend’. And Andrea had to finish bringing you up in the middle of the thing, did you disagree with her? Yes. But did you say anything about it? No, just on your mind. So why bring you to the discussion?

“And you…” She pointed at you startling you at the suddenly call. “You have your brother, your nephew, a new nibling on the way and you’re fucking Dixon like rabbits, you would never understand.”

“Andrea, are you serious? I wasn’t even in the discussion. Why do you always involve me in your shit? You don’t get to speak like this to Lori, we had a lot of blessings, but we also suffered like everyone else. Do you think we were happy the whole time we thought Rick was dead? Or that it didn’t cross our minds that Carl was going to die? You think we didn’t suffer because of Amy, Jim, Jacqui, Sophia or all the others lost we had along the way?” She said everything she wanted to Lori and now she was going to listen to you. “And why do you mind who I fuck? You’re fucking Shane, and nobody told you a word. Mind your own business.”

You almost didn’t stop to breath while the words just came out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I wasn’t going to say anything regarding Beth, but she’s only sixteen. She’s a kid, we have to protect her and try to help her get better, and not encourage the way out. Andrea, I think we’re never going to be in good terms again, there’s no way. You’re not the same anymore.”

You left the house and went back to the camp, finding Carl and Luna playing with a stick. Carl had been acting colder and colder in the last days, it was good to see him being a kid, even if it was for a brief moment. You played a little with them, but to be honest you were still nervous about Andrea and worried about Beth.

After 30 minutes, maybe one hour, you didn’t know exactly, you heard a commotion in the house. You told Carl to stay there and ran to see what happened. When you arrived to the source Lori and Maggie had just opened the door to the bathroom and there was a crying Beth, hand on her bleeding pulse, asking for help and saying she was sorry. You learned Maggie had left Beth alone with Andrea and it was her biggest mistake, because she left the girl alone and God knows what she said to her. Maggie had a fight with Andrea and told her to never again step in the house. You were done, your stress level was up on the sky already.

When it was almost getting dark you saw Daryl coming back, you walked in his direction happy to see him and have an excuse to not be in the camp, hence near to Andrea. You met him halfway, he had some rabbits and squirrels, you knew it probably wasn’t what he really wanted but you were grateful for any meat that he brought back.

“I thought you’d never comeback.” You said walking by his side.

“I said I’d comeback.” He answered and took a quick glance at you. “Jus’ didn’t wanna comeback without something.”

“We’re all grateful to you, bringing meat or not.” You said while you arrived the small camp of yours.

He took everything he needed to start to skin what he brought and clean so it would be ready for consumption. You sat near him observing his work, you never tried, but now you had observed him doing it so much that you’d probably be able to skin something if you needed or wanted to.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asked still concentrated on his job. Once again, you were surprised on how he could know something was not right. “I can see all over ya that somethin’ is bothering ya.”

“Today was a stressful day” You propped your elbows on your knees and rested your face between your hands. You recalled all the situation with Beth and Andrea, and you just wish this day didn’t happen, and it was far from being one of your worst days.

“Wha’ happened?” He lifted his head from his work and took a look at you. You looked tired, everyone was always tired nowadays, but it was not only physical it seemed that your mind was also tired.

“Andrea was a bitch. I swear I tried to be on good terms with her again. And Beth tried the way out, I believe encouraged by Andrea. Maggie left them alone and Andrea also left Beth alone.” You gave him the short story of all that happened. “I should have gone with you.”

“Yeah, ya should.” That was his way of saying ‘I missed you’.

Soon you saw the car in which Rick, Shane and Randall left arriving back in the property. When you saw Rick getting off the car you felt relieved to see him, but apparently they had comeback with Randall. Shit, it wasn’t over. As soon as Daryl finished skinning and cleaning the hunt, you went to to the camp to meet Rick and know what happened.

Once you arrived you saw that Rick had bruises and cuts on his face, no way it was the kid, walkers? No. It was Shane. Damn, he had the audacity to attack Rick. You didn’t even think, you turned around, hot headed and ready to go look for Shane and beat the hell out of him.

“Where d’ya think ya’re going?” Daryl hold your arm stopping you to go anywhere. He knew where you were going, sometimes he could read you so easily that it surprised him.

“I’m going to give Shane hell, nobody gets to touch my brother.” You yanked your arm from Daryl’s hand, just for him to catch you again, holding his arms around you so you couldn’t go. That wasn’t the moment for you to be reckless.

“Y/N, do you think I was just beaten? I also beat him.” Rick reasoned with you.

“Either way, it wasn’t enough, he deserves worse.” You said, still fighting – in vain - in Daryl’s arm.

“Woman, stop. Ya’re being more hot-head and stubborn than me.” Daryl turned you around and hold you by the shoulders. “Look at me.” He commanded, and you looked at him, right in his beautiful blue eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid. He’s uncontrollable and ya know it. If he lays a finger on ya, I dunno what I’m capable of doing and I dun wanna find out.”

“Ok.” You answered and didn’t try to go for Shane, but you still felt like ending him. “Why did you bring the kid back?” You directed the question to Rick.

“He said he studied with Maggie. Which means he knows where the farm is.” Rick ran his hand on his face. “We’ll need another solution.”

The other day, after breakfast, Daryl went to the room where Randall was, he said he was going to talk with him. It was taking a long time for him to return and you were starting to get worried.

“Ok, that’s it. I’m going to see what is taking him so long to come back.” You told your brother.

“Don’t, the kid is handcuffed. There’s nothing he can do against Daryl.” Rick said standing on your way. “I don’t wanna you close to that guy.”

“I think you had said you’d stop treating me like a child, Rick.” You looked at his face and you could see there was something wrong. “Are you two hiding something? That’s it? Now you have secret agreements between both of you?”

Before Rick could say anything, you saw Daryl coming in your direction. Was that Blood on his hand? ‘Holy shit! What the hell have you done Daryl Dixon?’, you thought. He arrived telling you all the information he got from the kid, there were 30 in his group, they were violent and dangerous, they raped women. You followed Daryl to your tent, you could feel he was still angry, so you were thinking about what should be the best approach.

“D. Let me see your hands.” You requested and he started organizing his things to leave and go into the woods.

“There’s nothing to see, I’m good.” He said with some arrows in his hand.

“Daryl.” He ignored you.

“Daryl Dixon.” He ignored you again, stuffing things on his backpack, so you just got close to him silently and yanked his backpack throwing it on the ground.

“What the fuck Y/N?” He shouted at you, now you had his full attention.

“Stop, this shit! I’m talking to you, your hands are hurt! Let me take care of them.” You told him your voice high. He looked at you impatient. You took his hand and guided him to one of the beach chairs. “Sit.”

“I ain’t a dog.” He complained while you made him sit.

“So, why are you obeying me?” You threw back while you picked the First Aid kit inside the tent. You were playing with fire and you knew it.

He tried to get up while he mumbled something in protest that you couldn’t understand. But you were faster than him and pressed his shoulder down so he would sit again. You took the other chair and brought it close to him, sitting in front of him, your legs between his so you could be closer to take care of his hand.

“Gimme your paw, I mean, your hand.” You joked one hand extended on his direction waiting for him to give you his hand. “If I’m a puppy, you might as well be one. Or maybe you’re a Kitten, you are as skittish as one.”

He gave you his left hand very reluctantly, but he knew you would not let him be if he didn’t. You took his hand and saw how his knuckles were hurt, your heart ache by seeing his hand like this, but you also felt uneasy about the young man that was on the other side of his fist. You took some alcohol and wet a cotton swab to pass where he was hurt.

“It’s gonna hurt.” You alerted him, he didn’t say anything. He just observed your small hand holding his and tendering his wounds with the cotton swab, hissing when it hurt too much. “Did Rick ask you to do this?”

“No.” He answered, short… good he didn’t want to talk.

“Did he know about it?”

“Maybe.” He answered eyes on your hands now cleaning the wounds with boric-water.

“Or he did or he didn’t. Gonna take it as he did, he was acting suspect.” You stated, looking at your first aid kit for some ointment.

“Are ya angry at me?” He asked while you passed the ointment on his wounds.

“No, just concerned and upset. Gimme your other hand.” You took his other hand and started to give the same care. “I don’t like both of you hiding things from me.”

“ ‘m sorry, ya dun agree with what I’ve done, do ya?” He asked, head still down paying attention to you.

“Torturing isn’t right.”

“I didn’t have an option, we needed the information about his group.” You cleaned his other hand. “His group… the things he said they did… he’s not someone to be around or for us to let go, he knows where the farm is.”

“So, do you think we should kill him?” You asked a cotton swab passing on his hand.

“Yes.” He said, you were conflicted. You were always taught that killing was wrong, you can’t take life from someone. Unless it’s a walker, of course. Or, if your life is in danger. But execute someone? It sounded wrong, but at the same time… you should think about the group safety. “Don’t ya agree?”

“I don’t know… I think it’s wrong, but I also see that we’re out of better options.” You passed the ointment on his hand.

“Are ya comin’ to the woods with me?” He asked a little apprehensive that you wouldn’t want to be with him because you were upset.

“Thought you’d never ask.” You looked at him and smiled, no way you’d be stuck in the farm again in the middle of all the chaos.

You were having things done to go, when you saw Dale arriving followed by Luna swinging her tail. Dale came to talk to you about the decision of killing Randall, he wanted to know what both of you thought, and of course try to convince you otherwise if you thought the boy should be killed.

“I’m not sure Dale, really. At the same time I think we shouldn’t, I don’t see any other solution.” You said, despite you thought your opinion would not be so important in the end. Dale tried reasoning with Daryl to no avail.

“This group’s broken.” He said, and when you heard that… you couldn’t help but feel bad. Was really your group broken? Did Daryl think the group wasn’t good enough for him anymore? Did he want to leave? Would he leave without you? Would he even tell you if he decided to leave? Was he tired of you?

You were so caught up in your anxious thoughts that you didn’t even saw that Dale was long gone and Daryl was calling you so you could go. “Pup, what’s wrong?” He asked, his hand waving in front of you worried.

“Nothing.” You lied, and he knew you lied. “Let’s go?”

He got his things, you got yours, Luna followed you and you walked silently until you reached the woods. You were open and comfortable with Daryl, you always were and it even annoyed you some times, because you would speak whatever is on your mind, and in your opinion you said things you shouldn’t say. But you couldn’t talk about your feelings, or you tried not to, because of a bunch of insecurities clouding your thoughts. He wasn’t also very comfortable about talking about feelings, so it was understandable, but at the same time he felt uneasy if he didn’t know everything that’s on your mind. He held your hand and it startled you from your unstoppable thoughts.

“Ya lied again.” He didn’t took his eyes from the woods searching for any danger or possible hunt. His voice didn’t change the tone, there was no anger or negative feelings on his speaking.

“I don’t wanna talk about my feelings.” You said looking at your feet attentive to where you stepped, your other hand slightly brushing over Luna’s head.

“But I want to know what ya’re feeling. I need to.” He said, damn… did he sound vulnerable? Was he weak? He couldn’t allow himself to look pathetic and weak, but he also didn’t want to mistreat you. “ ‘m not good talking ‘bout feelings, but I always need to know yers.”

You stopped walking and you turned to him, now holding both of his hands, or more like his hands engulfing yours. “Be honest.”

“Never lied to ya.” He said looking at your face while you were looking down at your hands. “Look at me, please.”

You lifted your head, looking right at his eyes and all you saw was worry. You took a deep breath taking all the courage you had to speak. “Are you…” ‘not happy with me?’ You wanted to complete but stopped mid-sentence. “Do you wanna leave us?”

“Of course not. Where did this come from?” He asked, but before you could answer his mind started to put the pieces together. “That’s because I said the group’s broken, isn’t it?”

“Yes” you said, just that. Unable to say more or add anything else that were running like a tornado inside your mind.

“It wasn’t a lie. I think the group’s broken. Shane’s crazy. Andrea’s reckless and listens to Shane. Carol’s still broken because of Sophia. Glenn… if Hershel decided to kick us from the farm, he’d stay behind and I don’t blame him. This group isn’t like it used to be, not that we were perfect befor’ , we never were.” You took all his words putting everything together and trying to reason what he said. Still feeling uneasy. “Wha’s on yer head?”

“It’s just… when you said it, it seemed like you didn’t care anymore about the group or what happens with it.” You looked at his growing bangs that fell on his forehead, or you wouldn’t be able to say it if you looked at his eyes. “Or…” You paused, no, no, you couldn’t say what you were thinking not at all. You’d scare him, he’d leave you.

“Or wha’ baby?” You looked at his eyes again, and with the worry you saw a softness that you didn’t quite know what it meant. He never called you ‘baby’ outside of the sheets and it made your heart jump and butterflies fly in your stomach.

“Or…” you shifted your eyes to look at your hands, tears threatening to fall. Shit. Why were you so emotional and making a big thing of something this small. “That you didn’t want me and would leave.”

Things had been so good between both of you, that Daryl forgot you still had traumas from your past relationship, traumas that would trigger only when you were in a relationship and could experience things again. And now, was one of those moments. He couldn’t imagine half the shit you’ve been put through so you’d think he would leave you or that he didn’t want you, after he asked you to live with him, after he showed you his scars… after both of you broke so many walls that were built around yourselves.

He let go of your hands and hugged you, you always reassured him when he had his insecurities, now was the moment for him to do the same for you. “I ain’t leaving.” One of his arms was around your waist while the other was in your head bringing your face to hide between his chest and shoulder. “I want ya, and I dun see myself not wanting ya any time soon.”

It was as if a tap was open and the tears that were in your eyes fell making you let little sniffs and hold both hands on Daryl’s vest. “I told Rick, and I’m telling ya now, I ain’t playing with ya.” He didn’t put any names on what you had, he never said ‘I like you’ or ‘I love you’, he didn’t even know how to name what he felt or if he could feel any of those things. But he knew he wanted you, he needed you and he was going to protect you. He had already told you, you were his and indirectly that he was yours, but he couldn’t bring any of those words, these simple words scared him… So he said what he could manage to come out of his mouth. “We’re together.”

You took your face from his chest and looked at his face, he was serious, this wasn’t any sick joke. You should’ve known, you knew Daryl, he wasn’t like that… and you never doubted it. You shouldn’t start doing it now just because you had a relationship. He was not him. He was Daryl and you knew you could trust him. “I’m sorry. I think my period is close, or something…” It was probably something, but you could always blame the hormones, so why not?

He kissed the top of your head tenderly and looked at your face again, now you were better. You looked more like yourself when there wasn’t all those intrusive thoughts and anxiety. “What do ya say I teach ya a little bit of hunting and tracking?” He asked.

“I was waiting for the day you’d offer me this.” You smiled, your hands now resting flat open on his chest. “I’d love if you taught me.”

When it was close to sunset you and Daryl came back to the farm, you didn’t hunt anything as he taught you were still learning so it didn’t go good. He held your hand in his intertwining your fingers and you walked in silence, Luna leading the way in front of you sometimes stopping to wait for your slow asses.

In the moment you arrived at the farm Rick made a call, he was waiting for both of you to make a reunion so everyone could say their opinions about the boy Randall. Everyone except Dale wanted to kill the young man, Dale was extremely disappointed. You still didn’t know what to think about it, but you knew Dale was right.

“I’m with Dale.” You suddenly said and walked to stay by Dale’s side, even though you knew there was no way of winning the vote, you wanted to stay true to yourself. “He’s not his group and as far as we know he didn’t commit a crime that he deserves death penalty.”

You felt like you would combust at any moment just by the stares of Rick and Daryl that didn’t quite understand why you were siding with Dale and not thinking clearly about the wellbeing of the group. Shane also looked at you like you were insane, but you didn’t give a single fuck about it, so it was ok. The others were neutral at you. Soon Andrea also said she was with Dale, but in the end you three weren’t enough to deprive the group from killing Randall.

Everybody left the room to continue their activities, it was getting dark so Daryl, Rick and Shane would take the prisoner to do what they needed to. You were ready to descend the porch stairs when Daryl held your arm slightly and put you aside.

“We need to talk.” He said, and you already knew.

“Is it because I agreed with Dale?” You asked, you knew the answer. “Do you hate me because I disagreed from the group?” All that mattered was that if he would change about you just because you didn’t agree with them.

“Yeah, and I dun hate ya.” Actually it was quite the opposite, but he was concerned about your choices.

“I knew the majority of us would choose his death, my vote would make no difference. So I decided to stay true to myself.” You said, you could see understanding crossing his face by each word you said. “Just because I don’t think it’s right, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t need to be done.”

He nodded at you. “Alright, I ain’t upset. Go stay with Lori while we do this.”

You were with Lori when you saw the three taking Randall to the barn, you held your sister’s hand as a comfort for you. You weren’t going to see the execution, but knowing someone, a human being would be killed in the same place you were was scaring. You were comfortable killing walkers, they weren’t alive anymore, they were just walking corpses. In reality you thought it was merciful to kill the monster that once was a person.

“Don’t think much about it, it’s worse if you do.” Lori tried to calm your nerves, but it was impossible to not think about it.

After some time you didn’t listen to any gun shot and soon you saw Rick and Carl arriving to camp. Wait, Carl? Shit. Shit. Shit. Rick explained that Carl went there to see and that he was encouraging to kill the man. What was happening to the kid? He couldn’t lose himself so quickly like this. Rick wasn’t able to do this with Carl looking, so he postponed the execution.

“Where’s Daryl?” You asked, you saw everyone but him.

“He’s locking Randall again, he’s probably gonna be here soon.” As soon as he finished talking all of you listened to extremely pained screams.

Dale!

You ran in the direction of the screams, Daryl being the first to arrive started shouting for help. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was bad. All of you arrived almost at the same time and what you saw was heartbreaking, all his guts coming out of his ripped stomach. No. You cried. No.

“Hershel!” Rick shouted, the only thing he thought was you all needed him there to take care of Dale.

“It’s too late, Rick.” You said, tears rolling down your cheeks. You knew as much medicine as Hershel knew, both of you vets, the old man was just more experienced and have treated more people than you, that had only cleaned T.’s wound and took care of Daryl’s hands. “There’s nothing he can do.”

Hershel arrived and said the same thing, you couldn’t even move Dale. He was agonizing. Andrea pleaded that someone did something. Everyone was in pain by seeing Dale like that. He didn’t deserve this kind of death. Rick aimed his gun at Dale, it was best if someone ended this for him. You turned your back, you didn’t want to see, you had already seen more than you wanted to see. You wait for the gun shot, but before you listen to it there’s a raspy voice. “Sorry, brother.” And soon after Daryl’s voice the sound of the shot.

You were waiting for the shot. You knew it was going to happen, but you jumped at it a cry living your lips. You covered your mouth trying to muffle your sobs. You felt a pain in your chest, everybody felt it. There were cries, sobs and lamenting.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, and it wasn’t a peaceful one, even having Daryl’s soothing presence near you.

Dale was the group’s heart and now you felt like your group were definitely broken.

Wanna be add to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

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#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x grimes!reader #till the dead do us part #deansapplepie

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steddieasitgoes · 4 months

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@steddiemas Day 24: For Someone Special

Tags: Established Relationships, Implied Sex, Christmas Sex

wc: 935 | Rating: M

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Like the chaos demon he is, Eddie gives Steve his Christmas list the week before the holiday. Not that Steve’s surprise, it’s actually an improvement from the last few years where Eddie’s slipped him the list on December 23rd. Luckily, Steve knows him well enough not to need a list.

Case in point, Steve already has all the items on Eddie’s list bought, wrapped, and hidden in the back of their small closet. Well, almost all of the gifts. Unfortunately, the cat is a no-go. Not because Steve doesn’t want one, but because their apartment complex has made it abundantly clear that animals are not allowed. He did get him a cute Garfield plushie though and a new packet of cat treats for the feral cats that linger in the parking lot so hopefully that holds him over until they eventually move out and can get their own place.

And no, he did not have to ask Jeff about what guitar strings to be. Honestly, he’s sort of offended that Eddie thinks he doesn’t listen to everything he says. A fact, he makes clear to him when he opens the box of strings on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t dwell on it too much though, because the next gift in Eddie’s hands is the one he’s been waiting for him to open since the day he found them in the little shop in Indianapolis. Okay, maybe waiting isn’t the right word for it. More like bouncing on the edge of his seat in anticipation and anxiety.

Steve usually sticks to Eddie’s list, but he couldn’t help but get a little creative this year. After all, it is their third Christmas together and first in their own place. It calls for a little celebration.

He can’t help but hold his breath and nervously bounces his knee as he watches Eddie tear into the box. Maybe this was a mistake. Sure, they’re weird, but are they this weird? Shit, shit, shit, shit.

“Oh!” Eddie shouts pulling Steve from his spiral.

When he looks up he finds Eddie staring at him with those big, brown eyes of his. The brown is hard to see by how dilated his pupils are. The tips of his ears are already red and the blush is moving fast, spreading across his cheeks before Eddie has time to undo his messy bun and pull a strand to his lips — a habit he still hasn’t grown out of.

Glancing down at the little bag of dice in his hand again, Eddie picks his head up and cocks it to the side. “I know I had new dice on my list but this is not what I was expecting.”

“Well, you did write any kind,” Steve says, confidence returning to him as Eddie continues to glance between him and the sexy dice in his hands. “But if you don’t like them I can always return them.”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie scoffs. “I think these are going to be my new favorite.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything and instead clasps his hands over the dice and begins to shake. Steve silently counts in his head, waiting with a bated breath as Eddie finally opens his hands and sends the pair of dice clattering against their coffee table. When they stop, they both lean forward to see what sides they’ve landed on.

Blow.

Nipples.

“Yep,” Eddie says, popping the “p” as he turns to face Steve. “These are definitely my favorite.”

It’s a good thing they celebrated Christmas with everyone yesterday because they spend the rolling the dice over and over and over again.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to top this gift,” Steve teases, hot and sweaty as they finally curled up next to each other in their rumpled, slightly damp bed. If he wasn’t so tired and had the ability to stand, he’d strip the bed and insist they put new sheets on. But he’s too satiated to care about the mess they’ve been making over and over and over again.

Eddie hums already nosing at the dark purple spot on Steve’s neck. “Don’t know about topping it, but you could top me.”

“I think my dick might fall off if we keep going.”

“Oh, please. He can handle it and so can you.” Eddie snorts and bites down on the sensitive spot causing Steve to yelp and shove him away. “Come on, big boy, those dice have 36 variations on them. We’ve got a long way to go.”

“Oh, so now he’s good at math,” Steve teases before throwing his left leg over Eddie’s waist.

Sitting up so he’s probably straddling him, he takes a moment to admire his boyfriend’s blissed-out state. He’s pretty sure his eyes have been blown wide the entire day and his rosy cheeks have become a permanent feature too. Steve’s marked him from head to toe — purple spots and teeth and tiny fingerprint indentions litter his pale skin. His skin is calm with sweat and cum, but Steve doesn’t care as he leans forward and steals his millionth kiss of the day.

“If I knew you were going to love them so much, I would have gotten the other set with the locations.”

“I expect them for Valentine’s Day,” Eddie says, stealing his own kiss before reaching his hand out to grab the dice from the nightstand. He hands them to Steve and nods his head. “Now roll sweetheart.”

Steve gives them a good shake before throwing them on the bed. They bounce once before revealing their next move.

Bite.

Thighs.

“Best Christmas present ever.”

#steddiemasnaughtylist #steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie smut #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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rhoorl · 5 months

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Working Title | Chapter 17

Pairing: Dieter Bravo/OFC

Series Rating: Mature, 18+

Word Count: 5.3k

Series Masterlist | Chapter 17 AO3 Link

Chapter Summary: We slow burned and now it’s the day after. Dieter and Belle have one more day to themselves before production starts back up.

Chapter Warnings: Some allusions to smut. Negative self-talk from Dieter’s POV. Body insecurity.

A/N: For those following along as I update, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get this chapter done! It was about a month between updates, which wasn’t my intention. Hoping the next chapter comes much sooner than that. Thanks for reading!

That's all you do, Dieter, fuck up. It's all you're ever gonna do.

Dieter wakes up suddenly, confused and momentarily caught in that in-between wondering whether he’s still dreaming or actually awake. He wasn’t a stranger to bad dreams and disruptive sleep, it seemed to be the only time his brain would process things. Sitting up slightly in bed, he leans over to see the time.

6:15, huh, later than I thought.

He then looks over his shoulder to see Belle, fast asleep with a hint of a smile across her face.

She looks like an angel. So sweet, so…perfect. And she … loves me. How? How could she love someone like me? She’s going to come to her senses soon. I just know it. Or, or, fuck…I’m going to do something to fuck this up, aren’t I? It’s what I always do anyway.

Dieter snaps out of his spiral when he hears Belle stir next to him. He wishes he could just push his self-doubt and insecurities aside. Everything seemed so much simpler last night, just two lovers letting their bodies do the talking. But now, Dieter’s anxiety is piqued thanks to the memories his dream drudged up.

He desperately wants to be the man Belle deserves because she’s everything he’s ever wanted. The feelings he has for her are unlike anything he’s ever experienced with another person, stronger than any drug. And that thrills and terrifies him; his mind can’t help but wander to all of the ways he would be the one to mess things up and ruin his chance for happiness.

Why can’t you shut up?

He brings his hands to either side of his face, willing his brain to stop. To shut up. To let him enjoy this. To not self-sabotage the moment something good happens to him. Because these last few days with Belle have been the best thing that has ever happened to him. He wants to enjoy this for as long as he can.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair.

This was not how he saw “the morning after” going. He would have much rather woken up with his arm draped around Belle’s waist, peppering her shoulder with kisses. She’d turn around, plant a kiss on his nose and they’d just bask in their confessed love before some slow morning sex, enjoying the continued exploration of the other’s body.

But instead, he woke up in a panic and needed to get away from the bed to process his thoughts. To think. To breathe. To try and shake this feeling of unworthiness, a feeling he’s carried for years. He gets up and hastily throws on a pair of gym shorts stashed in a drawer, his drawer, and heads to the kitchen. He reasons the coffee maker would give him a good out should she wake up and go looking for him.

Your eyes flutter open as a small beam of sunlight warms the room with a soft glow. The last 24 hours truly felt like a dream. You can’t even call yesterday a date, it was just … an experience. The whole thing, tailored for you, planned around what you liked. And Dieter was so excited to see how you were taking it all in. Then, of course, there were the evening's activities, the soreness between your legs a reminder of the countless ways Dieter took you apart last night. Confessing your true feelings, and Dieter doing the same, made you feel…lighter. Happier. Complete.

Taking a deep breath you turn around and see the bed empty next to you. But instead of worrying, you smile to yourself, figuring that your barista will walk through the door any moment with his messy curls and a smirk holding two coffee cups with a box of cookies tucked under his arm.

Sitting up in bed, you bring the sheets up around you. Normally you’d scramble to find clothes to cover up, but with Dieter, you feel more comfortable in your skin. He makes you feel like an absolute goddess with the way his eyes rake over your face and your body. The reverence in his eyes is something you’ve never experienced from a man.

You aimlessly scroll through your phone, catching up on a few texts from Indy. She and Sam were having a great time and managed to leave their hotel to do some hiking after all. There were a few posts on their respective Instagrams; it appeared they were soft-launching their relationship with some strategically stealthy photos. Sam posted one of himself sitting on a rock looking out onto the ocean while Indy posted one facing the water, her back to the camera with her arm extended behind her reaching for a man’s hand. The comment section of both of their posts was full of sleuths who had zoomed in and correctly identified the bracelet Sam wore was the same as what the mystery man in Indy’s photo had on.

You laugh to yourself, curious how Indy felt about the discourse online about her and Sam’s apparent relationship. It makes your mind wander to how things will be when you and Dieter go public with your relationship. Because that was the next step, right? While you’re on the island you can try and stay in a little bubble, but shooting for the show will wrap in a matter of weeks and you’ll both be faced with life outside of paradise and not having a built-in reason to see each other every day.

Going public with your relationship will also open you both up for scrutiny, which makes you nervous based on your limited but recent experiences. While you don’t necessarily want to be plastered all over his Instagram or in paparazzi photos, you’d be lying if the thought of being on his arm for a red carpet didn’t make your heart skip a beat and want to throw up at the same time. Those were thoughts for a different day, for now, you want to find Dieter.

You have to get back to the room, she’s going to wake up. Just shake this shit off and think of her for a minute you selfish prick. The last thing she needs is to wake up feeling alone.

Dieter takes a deep breath and starts to brew some coffee, rummaging through the cabinet to choose a box of cookies. He smiles when he sees the macadamia nut flavor, thinking about how much Belle loves that one.

He hears some shuffling behind him and turns to see Belle walking up to the kitchen island, hair thrown up in a messy bun dressed in just a shirt, his shirt. She’s looking at him like he hung the moon in the sky and Dieter feels equal parts proud and unworthy. But he also feels a sense of calm. Just her presence is enough to ground him and silence all of the intrusive thoughts.

“Hey,” she looks a bit nervous, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt.

“Hey,” Dieter closes the distance between them in a few steps, one arm wrapping around her waist as his other hand cups her face, tilting her chin up to meet his lips. They both smile into a kiss.

Belle’s hands instinctively reached for Dieter’s hair, bringing him closer. A moan escapes as he skims down to cup her ass. “Mmm, good morning,” she giggles as he trails kisses along her jaw and down her throat.

“Morning, sweetheart,” his lips pressed along her collarbone. “How’d you sleep?”

You can’t help the way your eyes roll in the back of your head as Dieter’s lips explore your throat, light nips soothed with his tongue. Being with him, surrendering your body over to him like you did last night, it's like something in your head has been…awoken. Perhaps unleashed is a better word for it. It wasn't about the sex, which has ruined all other men for you, it was about the intimacy. Being in his arms felt comfortable, like being home.

“What d’you wanna do today?” You manage to pull back, eyes fluttering open to meet Dieter’s.

“Hmm…I could think of a few things,” Dieter smiles into another kiss and tickles your side.

“Oh yeah?”

“Could stay here all day, just right here,” Dieter runs his hands down your back, pulling you closer so you’re flush against him, feeling him hardening against your thigh. His hands skim underneath the hem of your shirt and trail up. “Not wearing anything underneath huh?”

“I was…mmm…kinda hoping you’d notice,” you murmur as your brain short-circuits over how he softly presses his lips to your throat. His stubble is scratchy, but you don't mind. You instantly crave the feeling of it between your legs again.

“But if you really want to go out today, I guess that’s fine,” he teased.

You playfully stick your tongue out at him and wrap your arms around his neck. “Hmm… well,” you look over his shoulder to the time on the microwave. “It’s still early, I think we could maybe uh…explore…a few of the ideas you have in mind. Then we can go explore the island?”

“I like the sound of that,” he kisses you again, walking you back to the bedroom.

“You made us coffee,” you chuckle into another kiss, “it’s gonna get cold.”

He pulls back, his eyes darker now as he looks from your eyes down to your mouth, his chest rising and falling more rapidly. “That’s fine. I’ll make you a new cup when I’m done,” he smirks.

Before you know it, you feel the back of your knees hit the bed. Dieter gently guides you down, his arm extending behind you as you fall back onto the plush mattress in hushed giggles and kisses. He moves down your body, rolling up the shirt to expose more of your skin. His mouth trails after the fabric and you shift up slightly to help work the shirt off, fully exposed to him, again.

Dieter stills above you, a slight shake of his head as he closes his eyes and trails his hand down your body, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You move your head to the side and playfully roll your eyes. As much as you want to believe him when he says things like this, it's still hard to hear it and accept it. You can tell he’s being completely genuine, but it's unrealistic to think you could undo years of an unhealthy relationship with your body in a matter of days all because a hot guy paid attention to you and called you pretty.

Rather than say anything, you reach for his face, his lips crashing against yours. As his tongue starts to explore your mouth, you thread your fingers through his hair and pull him closer, wanting to feel the weight of his body on top of you. Dieter’s kisses swallow your moans, but it doesn't stop the low growl emanating from the back of his throat.

You lost track of time as you both lost yourselves in each other.

“We should take a shower and clean ourselves up, huh?” Dieter kisses your shoulder as you lay side by side, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest as the arm draped around your midsection draws small circles along your forearm.

“Yeah. It's our last day before getting back to the grind,” you turn your head to look at him. “As much as I'd love to stay in bed with you all day, I kinda want to see the island some more. You know, visit the stuff I've only seen in photos.”

“We can do that,” he smirks, kissing your forehead. “Whatever you want. Ok, c’mon let’s go.” He taps your hip and starts to get up.

You should have known that you weren’t just going to be taking a shower. Although Dieter wasn't quite ready for round two, it didn't stop his lips and fingers from exploring more of you. He was gentle, taking his time to see what kind of reactions he'd get from you, while also being cognizant of how you were nearing overstimulation from the morning’s activities. You’d had more sex in the last 12 hours than you had in the last 12 months, and it was starting to catch up to you.

By the time you finally finished your shower, your hands were pruney and the hot water was starting to turn cool. Seeing Dieter with his wet hair brushed back made you almost want to grab him and throw him on the bed, but you really wanted to play tourist and see some of the sites.

As you towel off, he passes you a fluffy robe. The only thing that interrupts the quiet is the growling of your stomach. Upon hearing the sound, Dieter suggests ordering some room service, which you eagerly agree to. While you wait, you make your way to the balcony to sit on a lounger, close your eyes, and listen to the waves.

“Ok, shouldn’t be too long,” Dieter walks out and plops down on the lounger next to you.

You look over with a smirk and tease, “Well of course not, they wouldn’t want to keep Mr. Dieter Bravo waiting, right?”

“Funny,” he rolls his eyes and chuckles. “There’s got to be some perks after all.”

The conversation flows easily as you wait for your food and continues once it arrives. You were opening up to Dieter in ways you typically wouldn’t, at least not this quickly or early in a relationship. He was a great listener and you felt like he truly cared. You tried not to pry, but you noticed he got a little uncomfortable whenever you tried to steer the conversation towards him. There were entire swaths of his past that he skirted around, quickly turning things back to you once you veered into territory he was nervous about. You took note, careful to not inadvertently push him too far.

As you take the last bite of your banana macadamia nut pancakes Dieter looks over to you. “So, which places do you want to go see today?”

“Ah, I've been wanting to check this place out,” you fish your phone from the robe pocket. With a few taps of the screen, you bring up a few shots of a canyon dotted with various colors of greens and browns. “Waimea Canyon,” you smiled. “I'd love to go see it.”

Dieter takes the phone, scrolling through a few photos before looking up at you with a smile. “Done. Danny told me about this place, there's some hiking we could do there too if you want.’

“I’d like that. It’d be fun to explore a bit.”

He leans forward, his hand grazing your thigh. “Good. Then it’s a plan. C'mon,” he pats your thigh. “Let's get ready.”

He collects your trays and heads for the door to put them in the hallway while you try and figure out what to wear. You aren’t sure what the rest of the day holds, so you search for a swimsuit to put on underneath your clothes. Dieter seems like the kind of guy to spontaneously want to go swimming or something, so best to be prepared.

Reluctantly, you sift through your drawer trying to quiet the voice in your head who picks apart how you look in everything you wear. You settle for a hot pink one-piece with cutouts along the sides. It’s a little bit skimpier than you'd normally be comfortable wearing in front of anyone besides Indy, but you thought why not?

She’s slipping on a pair of jean shorts, her back to the door, as Dieter walks back into the room. He smirks as his eyes rake up and down her body. He undoes the belt of his robe so it hangs open, working himself out of it and letting the garment fall to the ground. He saunters over while her back is still to him. She’s sorting through some jewelry on the dresser. His large hands find the cutout on either side of her waist, pulling her flush against him.

“This looks good,” he whispers against her ear. She shudders a bit, goosebumps forming on her arms.

“Thanks,” she giggles. “Just gotta put a shirt on and I’ll be set.” She turns around in his arms, shaking her head and laughing seeing he was completely naked. “You thinking of going like that?”

He tilts his head with a smirk and opens his arms, “I mean, could be fun.”

“C’mon, we’ll have some more fun later when we get back.” She rests her hands on his chest and reaches up to give him a chaste kiss on the heart-shaped patch in his beard.

“Sure we have to leave? Could get started on that fun now,” he winks as she rolls her eyes. He walks over to the drawer to put on a pair of light blue swimsuit trunks which are a bit on the shorter side. He pairs it with a gray T-shirt that hugs his biceps and fits taut along his back. “How’d I look?” He asks as he heads over to grab a pair of Crocs.

“Good, but I think you may want to adjust your footwear. We’re hiking after all,” she laughs.

The drive to your destination was relaxing. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and you had the most handsome driver. Feeling the wind against your hair and staring out the side of the car, you close your eyes to take everything in.

As much as you’ve loved this time alone with Dieter, you know this little bubble won’t last forever. Indy is due back late tonight and production starts back up tomorrow. And speaking of production, there are only a few weeks left of the shoot since the series only got greenlit for a few episodes. It’s up in the air whether or not you’ll return to finish the rest of the episodes.

Dieter’s hand reaching for your thigh snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn your head over to him and your breath hitches a bit. His hair is wild and wind-swept and he tilts his chin down so you can see his eyes over his sunglasses.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

You thread your fingers through his. “Nothing, just this is … nice. I’m trying not to think too far in the future, you know.”

Dieter’s gaze returns to the road and he takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I know. Truth be told, I’ve been trying to not think about it either,” he chuckles but then he gets a distant look in his eyes.

“I kinda forgot that I moved out of my apartment,” you say more to yourself than him. You see him glance over to you in your peripheral. “I needed a change. Figured if anything I’d just crash on Indy’s couch until I figured it out,” you say with a nervous laugh.

Dieter keeps his gaze on the road but you feel his grip on your hand tighten. “W-would you want to come back to LA with me?” He says it so softly you barely hear him.

“What?”

He clears his throat, “No pressure or anything, but if you wanted to you could come back to LA with me for a bit.”

“Like move in with you?”

You come to a red light and he looks over at you. He looked scared and nervous, biting his bottom lip as he nods.

“Uh, y-you’d … yeah, I mean, are you sure?”

“More than you know. Think about it, you don’t have to give me an answer now.” The light changes and he returns his gaze to the road. “I need to check with Liz, make sure she doesn’t have me going onto another project or something,” he laughs.

“Yeah. I think that sounds good to me.”

He turns to look at you as you give him an encouraging smile and squeeze his hand.

Your drive winds up the canyon, scenic overlooks peppering the side of the road. Dieter’s turned on some music and you both sit in comfortable silence, still holding his hand in your lap. When you reach the top, you get out of the car and walk to take in the spectacular vistas in front of you. The gigantic gorge is massive and dramatic. The red soil is dotted with ample greenery and you spot streams and waterfalls as your eyes take it all in.

Dieter comes up behind you, you feel his chest against your back and he rests his chin on the top of your head. His hands come to rest at your waist.

“Wow,” you manage to get out.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking amazing,” he murmurs.

Your eyes couldn’t take in all of the beauty in front of you. It was a bit overwhelming to think something like this just exists in the world.

You aren’t sure how long you both stand like that, but after a while, Dieter moves so he’s standing next to you, a hand resting on the small of your back. “We should take a picture,” he smiles.

“Yes! Here, take my phone, you have longer arms.” You hand him your phone and press up on your tip toes so your cheeks touch, both of you giving big smiles at the camera.

After he takes a few shots he hands the phone over so you can scroll through and take a look. It’s at this moment that you can start to feel eyes on you; you were too awe-struck earlier by the beauty of the landscape to notice anyone else around you.

“Excuse me,” you hear a soft voice behind you, turning to see a woman and her son, a boy no more than 10 years old. “I’m sorry, are you…Dieter Bravo?”

The little boy looked both annoyed and in awe at the boldness of his mother to just walk up to Dieter. He looked up with big eyes and his jaw agape. Dieter’s eyes softened seeing the boy’s reaction.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” Dieter flashes a dazzling smile and you’re glad it wasn’t directed at you because otherwise you’d be a puddle.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but could he get a picture,” she motions to her son. “He’s a big fan.”

“Sure, c’mere bud, let’s take a picture,” Dieter ushers the boy over, crouching slightly so their faces are level. After the woman snaps a few photos, Dieter stands back up. “What’s your name bud?”

“Ah, umm…K-Kofi,” the boy says softly.

“Well, Kofi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dieter. You having fun today with your mom?”

The boy nodded and his mom pipes in, “We watched Cliff Beasts on the plane ride over here.”

“Oh nice, well, I hope you liked it,” Dieter smiles, looking at you with a wink.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you and your beautiful girlfriend from enjoying your day. Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, thank you, Mr. Bravo,” Kofi squeaks.

“It’s Dieter. And you’re welcome. Have a good one,” Dieter waves and turns around, reaching for the small of your back. “He was sweet.”

“And so were you…boyfriend,” you tease.

Dieter moves to stand in front of you, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s blushing a bit, his eyes cast down before he looks up and takes your hand. “I like the sound of that,” he smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve been wondering if it’s okay if I call you my… I-I didn’t want to presume.”

You laugh which throws him off, “I love you. You’re so sweet, you know that?”

He smirks, his eyes give you an up and down. “I love you too.” He leans down for a quick kiss. “Did you still want to go for a hike?”

You look around and start to see more eyes starting to look your way with hushed whispers. “Yeah, sounds good. If we stay here much longer you may start an unofficial meet and greet.”

You head back to the car to grab some water bottles and then head off on the four-mile trail. There were a few people along the way who gave a customary nod and wave as you walked by. A couple of times you could hear people excitedly whisper as they passed and figured out who they just walked by. Luckily, you were left alone and you both walked hand-in-hand over the terrain, stopping every now and again so you could take photos.

After some time you see signs for Waipo’o Falls and not too long later you see a massive waterfall come into view far off in the distance. It stands out against the dry, rocky background of the red clay of the canyon.

“Wanna sit for a bit?” Dieter gestures over to a rock off the path big enough for the two of you to share.

You sit and share stories, most of them random. After all, you are still getting to know each other despite all of the feelings you’ve experienced and shared so far. Seeing Dieter relax and laugh, really laugh, was music to your ears. Seeing how his eyes crinkled and how he’d always lean into you as he laughed, touching some part of you whether it was your things or your arms. It was easy, simple.

There was still more to explore so you managed to get back on the trail. Dieter started to complain about his back hurting so it seemed like a good time to turn around and head for the car. Along the drive back to the resort, you made a few stops along the way. He saw a sign for a swinging bridge and veered off the road to go check it out.

Once you were back on the road, you saw a person selling coconuts on the side of the road. Seeing how excited you were about it, Dieter made a quick U-turn and went back for one. You shared one, drinking the refreshing water as you shared more stories and laughs.

“We should probably get back, huh? I’m getting hungry,” Dieter smirked. His tone made you press your thighs together.

Once you arrive back at the resort, you and Dieter walk arm-in-arm past the lobby. You head toward the elevators when he pulls back and changes direction.

“Want to get a bite from Duke’s?” he asks, making you smile. You’d been wanting to check out the beachside restaurant since you arrived at the resort and hadn’t found the time.

“Are you sure? People are going to swarm you.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine.” He reassures you, taking your hand as he leads the way to the restaurant.

As you walk up to the hostess stand you hear a familiar voice behind you, “Hey B! Fancy seeing you here!”

You turn around and see Rhys, his face sunburnt to the point where he looks like a lobster which makes you wince and laugh. Trailing behind him is Liz, looking relaxed in white linen pants and a powder blue tank top.

“Hey Rhys, what’re you doing here?” You reach up to hug him.

“Hi Lizzie,” Dieter walks up to Liz, kissing her on the cheek.

“Hey, champ! Hi Belle,” she surprises you with a warm hug. “You guys gonna grab some dinner?” You and Dieter both nod. “Great, we can all sit together!”

Dieter gives you an apologetic look, but you counter with a giant smile. You loved spending time with Rhys and getting to know Liz more. Plus, you still were with Dieter, so it was a win-win.

The hostess quickly seats the four of you at a table with a great view of the beach. It would be the perfect place for people-watching, but given your dinner companion, you feel a bit exposed. Dieter seems oblivious to it so you decide to just roll with it.

After you place your orders the waiter takes your menus and Liz leans forward on the table with her forearms. “So, have you both been enjoying yourselves?” She tries to suppress a smirk.

Dieter rolls his eyes and laughs. “Very much so, Lizzie.”

“Yeah, we’ve been having a lot of fun,” you chime in.

“I’m happy to hear that, I really am,” she says to the both of you but is looking at Dieter, who shifts in his seat.

“What have you both been up to?” You ask, trying to change the subject which causes Dieter to visibly relax. His hand reaches for your thigh under the table, squeezing it.

“Oh us? Well, I’ve been trying to relax, unlike Rhys. The guy’s been on the phone constantly.”

“Well, I learned from the best how to hustle for my clients,” he chuckles.

“Got some good stuff cooking for Indy?” Your hopeful tone makes Rhys smile.

“You know it, B. Promise you won’t tell Indy, but I have to spill to someone other than Liz because I’m driving her nuts.”

“He is,” Liz says with a huff.

Rhys proceeds to tell you that he managed to get Indy an audition for a franchise that has been her longtime dream. And it wasn’t just an audition for a side character, no he worked to get her an audition for a lead role. You know Indy is going to be over the moon about this development.

“So what’s the catch?” You ask as you sip on your drink.

“Well, they want her to come in person for the audition and presumably we’ll do a test shoot while we’re there.”

“What about the shoot here?” You ask, your eyes shifting to Dieter who looks a bit tense.

“Oh well, we are working on getting some stuff shuffled around in the production schedule. You’ll have some long days but it’s the only way to find time. After one of the days, you’ll take the red eye to LA, she’ll do the audition the next morning and you’re both back on a plane that afternoon just in time to shoot the next day.”

“Wait, they’re both going?” Dieter asks, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah, B is Indy’s good luck charm and this is the biggest audition I’ve ever booked so Belle has to be there for her. Right B?” Rhys gives you a big smile.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, she’d kill me if I wasn’t there.” You look at Dieter, trying to silently convey how important this is.

“So assuming she gets it, when are you thinking she wraps here?” Dieter presses on.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Rhys stops to sip his beer. “The person they had in the role had to drop out and pre-production already started so she’d be coming in late to the game. I’m trying to not get ahead of myself, but I’ve already talked with some of the crew here and it looks like we can wrap Indy up early so the girls can head to Toronto ASAP.”

“When are you planning on telling her Rhys?” You keep your eyes on him although you can sense Dieter’s shoulder slump out of your peripheral.

“Depends on what time she gets back, I was hoping tonight. I didn’t want to say anything before because I wanted her to enjoy her time with Sam. You know her, if I told her about this, they would have been running lines their whole trip. She needs to let loose, she looks so happy,” he gives a half smile, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

“Well, if we can make this work she’s going to be over the moon,” you smirk.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: So I’ll be honest, I had a really hard time on where to take things following the previous chapter. I have a general outline, but I just was a little burnt out maybe? I’m not sure. I wasn’t really feeling anything that I was writing despite trying several times. (So apologies for any of the whiny posts you may have seen from me as it related to this fic).

To give an update on “real-life inspirations” - Waimea Canyon is one of my favorite places on Kauai so I was excited Dieter and Belle got to see it. Also, Duke’s is a real restaurant, with several locations on the islands and the mainland too. I’ll be including photos of both whenever I finally finish this story!

Thanks as always for reading! Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime /@harriedandharassed / @titlee78 / @midnightraain / @poodlebae / @partyofone3414 / @guelyury / @weho2kcmo / @missladym1981 / @soapjay / @darkheartgatita

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter x reader #pedro pascal characters #working title fic

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fordchen · 2 months

Text

You deserve someone worth the effort

Prompt: Tim and Ashley broke up after his spinal surgery yet Chris and Lucy are still dating. 5x08 where Chris is looking for houses and Tim decides it’s time to have a conversation with his colleague… Please feel free to leave some feedback! you can also send me ideas :)

—

Today seemed like another day at the station. Tim arrived early as usual and got into his uniform, preparing himself for yet another busy day in Los Angeles. He met with Sergeant Grey for their daily briefing before heading to the roll call room to brief the other patrol officers. Everything is normal until now.

Well… that’s what he thought until he walked to the shop and met a rather distant Lucy. She seemed far away, lost in her thoughts which made him a bit suspicious. It caused him to now overthink too about the reason for Lucy's spiral. He walked closer to her and cleared his throat to signal his presence, seeing her snap out of her thoughts immediately.

“Ready to roll?” He asked after seeing that she had set the shop for them, watching her give him a small nod.

They both got into the car and began their patrol, doing some small talk before Lucy’s phone rang. Chris was FaceTiming her to show her a house for sale. He could not help but feel confusion as he heard the two talk. They both seemed on two very different pages. On one hand, Chris seemed excited about visiting potential houses to buy, and on the other, Lucy seemed much more reserved about the whole thing. Once they hung up, Tim glanced quickly over at Lucy, unable to shake away his confusion. “Are you and Chris moving together?” He asked after a few seconds of silence, feeling his heart tighten in his chest.

“No, uh… It’s not…” Lucy mumbled, unable to get her words together. “Yet, he seems to think you are.” Tim said, almost cutting her off. He quickly looked over at her again, noticing how tense Lucy looked. That sight caused his heart to break a little. He hated to see Lucy upset. “Yeah, I mean, he kinda sprang it on me this morning…” Lucy added, playing with her fingers as an attempt to control the anxiety she felt in the moment. Tim nodded and after some silence, he let out a sigh. “You two are happy right? Those are the obvious next steps for you.” He asked but before Lucy could answer, they received a call about a few bombs placed around people’s necks and immediately went to deal with the situation. Tim realized they needed to have a conversation about her and Chris’ relationship but knew that now was not the moment. They had to focus on their jobs.

—

They controlled the situation along with other officers and were now headed back to the station. It felt rather tense in the car as they silently sat together in the shop until Lucy’s phone rang again. Chris called to check on Lucy as well as to let her know about a property he had heard off. Sensing Lucy’s discomfort, he intervened in order for her to get off the phone, receiving a kind smile from her as a thank you. “Lucy, look, if you don’t want to move, just tell Chris that.” Tim broke the silence between them, sensing that Lucy needed some help processing everything happening. “That's... The question is, why don't I want to move in? I don't get what the problem is. I mean, Chris is great. We're great together. We never fight.” Lucy said as she looked out the window, trying to clear her mind and put her thoughts all together. Tim found a place to park and stopped the car, looking over at Lucy. She looked surprised at his action but he knew that they both needed that conversation in the moment.

“Lucy, maybe that’s the problem. But do you guys not fight because you don’t disagree on things or because you don’t think it’s worth the bother?” Tim asked and Lucy felt speechless, unable to answer his question in the moment — something that actually answered it perfectly. “Lucy, you deserve someone that’s worth the effort.” He added, a soft smile forming on his face. He meant every word. Lucy had been through hell and back ever since she became a police officer and he needed her to realize her worth. Lucy nodded at his words but stayed silent, trying to collect herself. But deep down, she knew that she had made her decision. She was scared. Of course she was. A relationship with Tim meant taking a risk that could change her life forever — for better or for worse depending on the outcome. Yet, he was worth the risk.

—

The next morning, Lucy found Tim in the Watch Commander’s office. He was replacing Sergeant Grey who was on vacation in New York with his wife to visit their daughter. She knocked on the door softly before walking in, still wearing her casual clothes as she was early for her shift. “Lucy?” Tim asked as he looked up at her, gesturing at her to close the door behind herself. He stood up and smiled at her, glad that the station was still empty at this hour.

Lucy walked closer to him and took a deep breath. “You were right yesterday about Chris and I. I was too scared to admit that we weren’t working out and felt guilty about what Rosalind did to him.” She began, looking up into Tim’s blue eyes, giving him a soft smile. “I broke up with him last night. You helped me realize that I needed better than Chris, someone who treats me right and makes me feel like the most important person on Earth.” Tim searched Lucy’s face as she spoke, feeling speechless. He could feel tension between the two, like electricity. He wanted to kiss her but knew that it wasn’t the right time. Before Lucy could add anything else, he smiled a bit wider. “Lucy, would you like to go get dinner tonight with me?” He asked.

“Yes, Tim, I do.” Lucy answered and let out a giggle, feeling like a teenager all over again. She glanced out of the office’s windows to make sure no one was watching before she kissed Tim’s cheek. “I guess I’ll see you tonight in the parking lot.” She said before walking out, leaving a blushing Tim behind. —

Years later, at their wedding, she would conclude her vows by saying: “Tim Bradford, you are worth the effort.”

#chenford story #the rookie #chenford #chen x bradford #lucy x tim #lucy chen #tim bradford #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #chenford fic #tucy #tim x lucy

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captain-mj · 11 months

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WEREBEAR KÖNIG ANON HERE, I'VE BEEN MEANING TO SCREAM ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE PART 2. Thank you so much for writing it! Of course I am here to request a part 3 too, maybe even for horror night (no pressure to get it in in for that tho, I am already excited for any of the monster/horror stuff coming out that night) I need them to go running in the woods together, fuck, them intuitively helping each other out in their own way can be so soft and so personal. KÖNIG GIVING HIM HIS FUCKING HOOD. I love the dynamic you started building here, Ghost needs and deserves a pack and people he can trust and rely outside of himself. Seriously, man, thank you for this.

Yes Yes Yes!! Part 1 and Part 2

Also I told myself I should post more and then I checked and although I post a little less, everything is like twice as long as it usually is and I feel less bad

König had gotten his hood back the next day, washed and dried. At first, he had worried that Ghost had put it through a machine and it had been shrunk but upon further inspection, he could see it had been hand washed and air dried. He brought it to his face and breathed in the smell of the soap. It wasn't his. It smelled like the one Ghost used on his clothes. Something about the thought made König's thoughts spiral.

It was close to winter, meaning König was getting tired. Part of his body wanted to eat more and get stocked up for the winter, but he doubted Ghost would let him just take up real estate in the bedroom like that. He'd also need to ask for the time off and extra rations and dozens of other little things. It was hard to explain this to his instincts, but he was a human at the end of the day and he could just ignore them. Well, most of them.

As much as he appreciated the gesture, Ghost had made the hood almost unbearable to wear. Everytime he breathed, it smelled like Ghost. He’d need to rewash it because this was hell. People kept trying to talk to him and all he could think about was his Lieutenant and what he was doing and how he was feeling.

Then, the question reappeared. How long had it been since Ghost had shifted? It had been vaguely explained to him that Ghost was rather wild while shifted. Dangerous and lethal. It’s why he was usually put on missions where it wasn’t needed to shift at all or where his nature could be used. Seeing how he went for the killing bite with no hesitation, even with the small rapport they had between them, König had no doubt it was true. The soft look in Ghost’s eyes when he shifted back showed he desperately needed to shift more. It wasn’t particularly healthy to stay locked in as a human all the time.

This led to a rabbit hole of thoughts though. If Ghost shifted, he’d need someone nearby to help him. It would have to be König of course. And that meant König would be near him. Both undressed.

His face turned so red he was worried people would see through the mask somehow. Ghost had been so pretty when he had seen him. He wanted to see more. So much more.

König made the decision without really thinking about it. He knew if he kept thinking about it, he wouldn’t do it so he had to ask as soon as possible.

“Ghost.”

“Yes, König?” Ghost looked up from where he was practicing his sniping. He had such light eyelashes.

“Do you want to go out tonight?”

Ghost paused his movements on the gun and moved so he was laying on his back and looking directly up at König. “What?”

“Tonight. Do you want to go to the woods?”

“Why?”

König shrugged, anxiety creeping in. “To shift. Blow off steam, ja?”

Ghost continued to stare at him for a few minutes before nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Seriously?”

“Ask me again and I’ll change my mind.”

König quickly just nodded before grabbing a gun and sitting next to him. They were both excellent at hitting the targets, but König twitched occasionally. He’d bounce his leg or shake his arm like he had something on it. Ghost watched him do these things, thinking of how it was clear why they wouldn’t let him be a sniper, but also finding the need to move rather amusing.

“Sorry…” König sounded sheepish.

“It’s fine.” Ghost blew the head off of one of the dummies. “Ah. They really need to improve the quality of these. They’re rather bad.” He got up and stretched, joints popping as he did. He offered König his hand and he gladly accepted, letting him pull him up. They went their separate ways and it wasn’t until after dinner they met up again.

“So how do you usually leave base?” Ghost appeared next to König who luckily did not jump.

König hummed. “Usually just walk out the back door.”

Ghost nodded. “Fair. Doubt anyone would try to stop a big guy like you.” He meant it as a compliment. König didn’t know how to feel about it but he nodded.

Ghost followed König, looking around nervously. It was odd, being switched like this. König walked around confidently. Ghost blamed everything he was feeling on the fact that he’d be shifted.

God.

He’d be shifted.

Ghost hadn’t thought this through.

König led him to his favorite spot, a thickly wooded area that had a few paths that made it easier walk around when he was a bear. He, again refusing to think, started to undress.

Ghost stared and he let his eyes roam over König’s back. Thick scars from claws wrapped around his sides, most likely from grappling with other animals. A few bites here and there. And then once the hood and mask was removed, he saw the thick scars again. Now that he could take a good look, even with the moonlight making it hard, it was clear that it was from a collar. Ghost slowly took off his gloves and then his jacket. His hands shook when he went to remove more clothing.

“Stay turned around. I’m not out here to let you ogle me.” Ghost grumbled at him.

König put his hands behind his back and stayed at attention.

Ghost pulled off his shirt and then his boots. He kicked off his pants and shifted.

König heard the thump of paws and subsequent growling and took that as a cue to shift as soon as possible. They looked at each other and König tensed, just in case the wolf decided to brawl. He was a bear so it wouldn’t be the most intelligent thing to do, but cornered dogs and all.

Ghost jumped at him, slamming their heads together before jumping back again and barking. He slammed his paws down and König was bewildered. Maybe he should’ve read up on wolf mannerisms before doing this.

Ghost barked loudly to get his attention before trotting around dramatically. His tail wagged and König realized he was trying to play. There were so many thoughts in his brain but he ignored them all to lumber after Ghost. He had to be careful. Ghost was big, but he was still bigger and he really didn’t want to accidentally hurt him and ruin the first time he had shifted for fun in a while.

Ghost ran off and König chased after him. He couldn’t do sharp turns too well but when Ghost noticed, he did them less, trying to keep them in pace with each other instead of running off. König eventually managed to trick him and pin him down.

Ghost’s tail wagged harder but he bit König’s limb to make it clear he did not want to be pinned. He rolled in the grass and looked… happy.

König rolled next to him and wiggled so the grass would scratch his back a little. The stars were pretty.

Pretty soon, Ghost was up and at ‘em again, trying to tussle with him.

Their playfighting was a little awkward but they were having fun. König noticed Ghost letting him win rather easily and wondered why. He stretched and yawned. Ghost jumped back and his ears went down, staring at König. He calmed down as soon as König closed his mouth again. Something about his teeth… Too big.

Despite how much fun they were having, they couldn’t stay out there all night. They still had things to do in the morning, so regretfully, they had to shift back.

Ghost’s body popped as he shifted back. He groaned and twisted to make the rest of his back pop, still lying on the ground.

König felt awful. Horrible. Ghost was vulnerable. The soft look on his face.

But they were shifted and they were right next to each other and then König’s lips were on Ghost’s. It was soft. Sweet. Ghost’s eyes fluttered closed and he didn’t move just yet.

König pulled away, already ready to apologize when he saw how cold Ghost’s eyes were. How blank the expression was. But he was yanked down before he could think about it. Their lips met again and König gasped into it. Ghost’s mouth moved against his own, tongue pushing past his lips to map him out.

König slowly put his hands on Ghost’s body, gently touching him like he’d shatter or snap. Ghost had no such reservations as he bit König’s lip and then ran his hands down his back. He yanked him away by his hair, feeling such a rush at seeing the bigger man let him.

“I want you. Right now.”

König blushed bright red. “We don’t have lube. Or protection.”

Ghost flipped them over and grabbed his coat. “Vaseline works right? I’m clean. Get checked every six months and I haven’t slept with anyone sense.” He forced König’s legs open, glad he hadn’t let him get dressed yet. König

König nodded, covering his eyes. His whole body had turned as red as strawberry and Ghost got the urge to bite him like one. So he did. He made pretty indents of his own teeth.

König squirmed and panted as he worked him open, not going easy on him. Ghost growled at him. “You’re too tight. Relax.”

König panted softly and tried, but it was a bit difficult. He clenched around Ghost’s fingers in a death grip and Ghost slowed down. He made circles on König’s hips with his thumb and moved his fingers steadily instead. Once he found his prostate, he brushed it gently, watching König shiver and arch his back. König bit his lip hard and he tried to press back against him. Ghost didn’t let him do more than brush against it, working him open a lot easier now that König had a goal in mind. When he pulled out, he thought König would start crying.

More vaseline and then he was carefully lining up with him. König grabbed his hand tight and his legs wrapped around his waist. Ghost pushed in slowly and had to pause to catch his breath.

König was gorgeous. All littered with scars and freckles and muscle. His tummy was a little soft, perfect to grab and his waist was definitely… what did they call it? Slutty little waist?

But he was also deathly tight. It was almost painful but König whimpered and Ghost needed to hear more of those. He slid in a little more and König let out a shuddering breath, looking anywhere but Ghost.

“So big…” His accent had thickened and the words were barely comprehensible.

“That all you can take?” Ghost meant it genuinely. He wasn’t exactly small and he didn’t want to hurt König.

König only heard it as a challenge. “No.” He pulled him closer and Ghost grunted as he bottomed out. Those damned whimpers. It took too much self control to not start rocking his hips into him. Self control Ghost didn’t have.

König’s hands gripped Ghost’s hips and at first, he thought he was trying to make him stop but he just held on to him. He brushed his sweet spot again and König moaned and then buried his face in Ghost’s shoulder to hide. Ghost learned from the prep and moved slowly, now hitting it dead on and being steady.

König was breathing pretty hard and kept clenching desperately. He clearly wanted more, but Ghost was going to make him ask for it. Took longer than he was expecting, but König was anxious at the best of times.

“Please, Simon.”

Ghost slammed into him and König bit him in retaliation. He refused to make any more noises besides the whimpers he couldn’t choke down. Ghost’s arms wrapped around his waist as they held on to each other, being more feral than they should be. More feral than they had the excuse to be. König’s raked his nails down Ghost’s back, noting the scent of blood but ignoring it. Ghost moaned when he did and nuzzled against him encouragingly. They found each other’s rhythm, slotting together like puzzle pieces.

König pushed one of Ghost’s hands to his cock and it was embarrassing how little he needed to finish. Ghost pulled out and finished on his thighs. He hadn’t asked to cum inside and he didn’t feel like asking now. They panted for a bit and Ghost shook his head.

“I shouldn’t… If I cro-” König yanked him down to kiss him. Words didn’t seem to work well with Ghost so he was trying this instead.

Worked perfectly.

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #König x ghost #König

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 month

Text

Including Sunlight

When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around.

warnings: swearing, fluff, Frank having unhealthy coping mechanisms

a/n: I'm so sorry that this update is late, everyone! I've had a wacky month and it has completely thrown me off. Huge shout out to @xxdrixx for reminding me (again XD) to post what I'd written, and to my loves @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for helping me plot the upcoming angst arc!!!

w/c: 5.9k

You hadn’t known Frank for very long, but that didn’t stop him from becoming a necessary fixture in your life. Needing Frank was similar to needing light, or fresh air. Sure, you could go without it for a bit, but it would drastically reduce the quality of your life.

Two days into his “business trip” (which you assumed was a cover for some illegal shenanigans because what sort of freelance construction worker has business trips), you were missing Frank something awful, and it seemed like Max was too. Though you’d tried your best to stick to the existing routine Frank had explained to you, the dog would get mopey in the evenings, laying his head on your lap with a dramatic sigh as he stared longingly towards the door.

Frank hadn’t so much as sent an emoji since his departure, a fact that highlighted his already glaring absence. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you refused to go down that path knowing you’d never make it out of that endless anxiety spiral. Hoping not to bother him while he was away, you’d refrained from reaching out. Until Max’s heavy sighs were too much for you to bear.

“I’ll see what I can do, buddy.” You promised, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of his pouting face.

Sending Max’s sulking portrait off to your stoic neighbor, you included a message.

You: I think he misses you. Hope you made it safely. ❤️

You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to respond, but your phone buzzed immediately.

Frank: Sorry, bud. He behaving for you?

You: He’s being a perfect gentleman. Please come back to us in one piece.

Frank: Cross my heart.

Smiling at the fluttery sensation in your chest, you set your phone down and resumed petting the pitbull taking up residence on your lap.

Come back to us. A poor imitation of your melodic voice played throughout his brain on a loop as he got settled in the motel and began recon. It had been hours since you’d texted him and Frank couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that he could ever stop thinking of you; the only thing that had kept him going through the bland, cross-state drive was the knowledge that he had you to return to.

And didn’t that terrify him. The knowledge that he had forged a connection valuable enough to anchor him on bad days should have triggered his factory reset. Cut all ties, change home and job, never look back. But you made him weak–sapping the resolve out of him with your doe eyes and intoxicating personality. He’d never be able to leave you like that, even if his proximity to you would get you killed.

Gritting his teeth, he began disassembling his rifle for the umpteenth time, hoping the familiar rhythm would provide an opportunity for his mind to claw its way out of the paranoid spiral it was currently parachuting down. Because it would do him no good to imagine the ways this could all fall apart. The high that your genuine care ignited in him was a hard one to shake, and he craved your affection more than any drug.

Frank was no stranger to being forgotten, hell, most days he wished for it. Disappearing into the shadows made his work easier and it had helped him prevent situations like this, like you, in the past. Yet here he was, three states away, feeling desired and significant because of four little sentences of fucking text. You were a goddamn miracle.

Placing the final piece of his weapon back into its place, he drew his hands towards himself, examining them. Given the nature of his work, both legal and less than, the skin was rough and littered with impressive callouses. Streaks of gun oil, dirt, and general grime lingered on the pads of his fingers and under his nails, a testament to the indelicacy of his job. How could he allow himself to touch you with these hands?

How could the universe allow him to indulge in something so pure, after what he’d done?

He’d given you his name, his real one, but there was no way you knew the extent of his crimes against the people in your city–if you did, you’d surely never speak to him again. Before meeting you, he’d never questioned his choices. Wiping the murderous, sex-trafficking and drug-dealing scum from the face of the Earth was his purpose, and he lived it with pride. Pulling the trigger, releasing bullet after bullet into the chest of some criminal douchebag, it was the only reason he had the energy to keep going after the loss of his family.

But the violence, that he’d made peace with, it separated him from the rest of society, kept him from forming attachments with people as delicate as you. Not to mention, you valued an honesty he couldn’t provide, and a stable relationship would require it…not that he was intending on pursuing that with you. Right?

Sighing wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, heart pummeling his ribcage. You deserved to know the truth about who he was and what he’d done, but Frank wasn’t sure he possessed the courage to break that news to you, to risk losing you forever.

Shifting uneasily on the fraying wicker chair, Frank studied a chip in the faux wood of the table he was seated at. Rubbing a thumb over the exposed plastic, he pondered his next move. His short recon session had verified Madani’s hunch that the arms dealers operated after dark, like most criminals, but sitting around the dingy motel room until then was a one-way ticket to insanity.

As if his body was pitying his moment of unprecedented indecision, his stomach growled ferociously. Fuck, he could use a decent meal and a hot cup of coffee. Plucking his keys and handgun from the nightstand, he shoved his arms into a black canvas jacket before braving the outside world.

Digging your glove-covered fingers into the laminated dough, you folded it over itself a few times before placing it back in its designated proofing bin to rise. Taking another lump of the yeasted mixture into your grasp, you savored the pleasant cushiony feeling beneath your hands as you worked, the slightly fermented smell of raw bread swirling around the kitchen as you flipped the mass.

Your heart thumped serenely as you kneaded the dough at a steady pace, creating a beautiful rhythm you were more than familiar with. It was music, of a sort; the pulse in your ears acting as the bass while the cacophony of rattling spice jars and cracking eggshells composed unique melodies unlike anything else.

Life was complicated, but food was simple. Customizing pastries and generating new recipes was an outlet for any emotion you could dream of. Tugging at the strands of dough helped soothe the tension in your shoulders, a symptom of the intense restlessness you’d been feeling since Frank left. Though his text had confirmed that he was alive, you couldn’t help but wallow in a feeling of gut-wrenching regret as you lived without him. If something happened to him out there, you’d never be able to tell him–

Shaking your head fiercely to clear the anxious thoughts from your mind, you raced to the walk-in, once again pouring your jittery energy into a recipe rather than letting your composure erode into nothing. Stabilizing the precarious tower of ingredients you’d stacked with your chin, you tread cautiously over to a clean station, unceremoniously dumping the contents onto the steel bench before popping your head out to the front.

“Stace, you want somethin’ to eat?” You called to the girl, who was currently standing by the register on her phone.

“What are you making?” She barely lifted her head with the question and her ambivalence made you snort.

“Oh, you know, same old.”

With a small shrug, Stacy nodded. “Sure, why not.”

Grinning, you ducked back into the kitchen and popped the lid off of the industrial blender, quickly whipping up two vibrantly colored and impeccably garnished bowls for the pair of you. Passing a spoon to Stacy, you smiled as she dug in eagerly.

“What, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?” You giggled, reveling in the way her eyes lit up as she ate.

“Had a feeling you’d be cooking up a storm today.” Stacy replied, tilting her head at you knowingly. “You tend to do that when you’re mopey, and I’m never opposed to a free meal.”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in defiance. “I’m not ‘mopey’.”

“No?” Your dark-haired friend smirked. “That’s why you’re staring at that stupid bowl like it killed your family?”

Ignoring her pointed look, you angled the bowl slightly differently before pulling out your phone.

“It’s a pretty meal. I wanted to take a picture.” You reasoned, snapping a few photos of the deep violet mixture.

“To send to lover boy?” Stacy snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“No! I mean, maybe, I guess. I mean—“ You spluttered and Stacy laughed boisterously. “Shut up!!” Pouting, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your apron and stuck a spoon into your breakfast.

“C’mon, princess, don’t let my teasing interrupt your pitiful flirting attempts. I’m sure he wants to hear from you.” Stacy’s expression was nonchalant, as always, but her gaze softened when your shoulders slumped. “I’m serious. He’s like, embarrassingly into you.”

“I think you might be confused about which of us is ‘embarrassingly into’ the other.” You whined, burying your face in your hands.

“Oh you’re pathetically head over heels for him too, that’s why you have no game.”

Scoffing, you shoved at her shoulder. “You know what, I don’t need to be insulted like this. Get out of my kitchen.”

“It’s not insulting, it’s true!” She chuckled, eating the remaining few bites of her food as you struggled to force her out the double doors.

“Out, out, out!” You panted, finally getting her across the threshold.

The whoosh of air from the batwing doors blew stray hairs from your face, giving you pause. Did it matter why you reached out to him? He seemed to appreciate it…

“Fuck it.”

Frank turned the cheap off-white mug in his hands, letting the quickly fading warmth seep through the material and into his palms as he looked out the streaky window. A gray hue had settled over the rural town he was camped out in, courtesy of the building storm on the horizon. The clouds mimicked his mental state, growing darker by the minute as the world remained stagnant.

A low buzz caught his attention, his hand shooting out to stop his phone from vibrating off of the table. Flicking the screen open, his heart swelled with affection, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the barrier in the sky.

You: *image* It’s official, I’m becoming a hipster. I was more concerned about this photo than eating my breakfast.

Not attempting to hide his smile, Frank shoved his empty cup aside to free his thumbs.

Frank: Well, it looks so good, I might have to forgive you. What is it?

You: A smoothie bowl, very easy to make and quite tasty.

Frank: Never had one of those before. Looks good though, sunshine.

You: Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll make you one sometime.

Frank inhaled deeply, imagining that you were nearby and he could smell your soft vanilla soap. The thought of you cooking for him upon his return warmed his heart while simultaneously cracking it in two. He missed you dearly. Drawing his forearms into his chest, he took a picture of his own food, frowning at the grainy quality of the picture as it sent.

Frank: It ain’t as pretty as yours, but I’m eating breakfast myself.

The remnants of a stack of bland pancakes and some tough bacon paled in comparison to the gorgeous, speckled smoothie thing you’d sent him. Why it was in a bowl and not a cup, he wasn’t sure, but clearly you knew what you were doing so who was he to judge? A few seconds passed and Frank briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. Before he could preemptively apologize, another bubble appeared on the screen.

You: Glad you are able to feed yourself without my help. I was starting to wonder…

Frank: Oh shut up, you goof. I do miss your cooking though.

You: Just my cooking?

His fingers hovered over the glass display, his brain scrambling for a response that didn’t reveal just how gone he was for you. In the end, he couldn’t find one.

Frank: Not just your cooking, honey. I have some work to do, but take care of yourself and Max for me, will you?

You: Of course, Frankie. Have a good day :)

Frank: You too, sunshine.

Clicking the power button on his phone, Frank flipped it over, settling his head against his rough hands and massaging his forehead. Coward.

The shrill ringing of his alarm shattered the remnants of his uneasy slumber. Whipping his arm out from under the sheets, he stopped the piercing noise with a frustrated growl. Sitting up was a process, thanks to the new bullet wounds in his shoulder and hip—a true testament to how sideways yesterday night had gone. Madani’s brief had implied that this would be a cut and dry operation. Get in, confirm the sale, contact her team, leave. He’d been given strict orders to not shoot unless absolutely necessary.

Which was a great plan, in theory. Frank was more than on board with it, even if the whole “no shooting” thing lengthened the process. If it kept him on Madani’s good side, and still managed to get him home before Lisa’s birthday, he could live with it.

Apparently, the rookie member of Madani’s team was not so thrilled with Frank “stealing” so much of the glory. After Frank’s recon session and subsequent confirmation of the sale, the former Marine was about to call for backup when a scrawny 20-something kid darted into the dark warehouse after the arms dealers, holding nothing but a goddamn glock. Anticipating bloodshed, Frank was grumbling and sprinting after him before the gunshots started.

Pulling the kid out by the straps of his ill-fitting bullet-proof vest was a task Frank managed by the skin of his teeth, procuring two moderate injuries in the process. Of course, the knowledge that the FBI was on their tail sent the arms dealers into a frenzy. Frank was sure they’d crossed state lines before Madani was even done screaming. Honestly, he half expected the poor woman to have steam coming out of her ears–she’d cussed at the kid with words even Frank considered impolite.

Not that he could blame her, he was fuming all the same, especially when Madani had explained that he wasn’t off the hook for the mission and should head back to the motel to await further instructions. As if he was reliving it, the conversation that followed played in his head on a loop, their screaming match echoing off the walls of his brain.

“For fuck’s SAKE, Madani, I did what you wanted–why should I be punished for the stupidity of this asshole?”

“Oh, he’ll be dealt with, believe me. But the agreement was to get Roshev and Miller into my custody. Not give my team a half-assed warning and head back to New York scot free.”

“Half-assed–you’re fucking joking. I had to ditch the objective to rescue YOUR DAMN AGENT.”

“Go back to your room, Frank. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re not–”

“That’s an ORDER, Castle.”

So here he was: waking up on a shitty mattress, his skin and hair still streaked with dirt and blood (because the crappy water pressure and freezing temperature had infuriated him to the point that he’d cut his shower short after cleaning his wounds), in pain and in desperate need of a better cup of coffee than anyone around here was capable of brewing.

On top of that, it was his dead daughter’s 18th birthday–a fact that hung over him like a cloud of poisonous gas, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to grieve for her, to do something, anything–but instead he was fucking stuck here, beneath Madani’s thumb until she tired of him.

It was naive to think that he’d be home today, maybe drinking coffee that you had made specifically for him, bringing flowers to the cemetery, taking Max for a walk, trying to have a quiet day in Lisa’s memory instead of waiting around to deal with two scumbags who got paid to arm other criminals. He should have just shot them.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a rough hand, he stalked to the bathroom to clean up–given that a man covered in blood would probably scare the poor waitress at the diner down the street shitless. As he was rubbing a towel through his hair, his phone buzzed–presumably with a curt message from Madani about something else he’d done wrong. Groaning internally, he braced himself for another argument, but it never came.

Instead, his phone had an unopened message from you. Flicking open the home screen, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he pulled up the photo you’d attached.

It was a beautiful picture of you holding a basket of vibrantly colored cherries in the midst of some sort of farmer’s market. Your delicate features were highlighted by an array of pinks and oranges, courtesy of the sunrise in the background. Your smile was bright, your eyes sparkling as you beamed at the camera.

Your first message was a simple explanation of your morning activities.

You: It’s market day! I bought these gorgeous cherries to make some tarts. I’ll save you one ;)

As he was rereading the message, allowing his general irritation to fade as thoughts of you flooded his brain, his phone vibrated again.

You: Thinking of you today. I’m just a text away if you need anything ❤️

Sinking down onto the motel bed, his throat constricted as he processed the sentiment. He was surprised that you remembered today was hard for him, even more so that you offered to be a line of support. But that was exactly who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who cared so deeply for the people around her, and for some fucking reason that included Frank.

Typing and retyping a response to you, Frank blew out a breath. He felt almost…jittery.

Frank: Thanks, sunshine. That means a lot. I’m looking forward to that cherry tart when I get back.

You: I’ll make you as many as you want, Frankie.

Lips twitching, he imagined you whirling around your kitchen in one of your signature patterned dresses making him a special batch of pastries. His heart squeezed painfully; your absence was taking a toll on him that he had not expected. Before he could consider his next message to you, Madani’s number flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming call. Lips curling into a silent snarl, he answered.

“What, Madani?” He rumbled out.

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Her response wasn’t meant to dig under his skin, she simply meant it as a superficial jab, but the inclusion of the pet name he associated with you ignited a white hot anger in his gut, feral and hungry.

“The fuck do you want,” He bit out.

“Watch your tone, Castle. Remember who owes whom a favor here.”

Rolling his eyes, he brought out a more polite tone. “Yes, ma’am.”

She huffed across the line, “Fuck you too. We found them. I’ll send the coordinates now.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.” He ended the call.

Stretching your legs as best you could beneath the hefty pitbull, you sighed.

It had been hours since Frank’s last text and you were not handling it well–the image of the little typing bubble on his side of the text chain haunting your every moment. Logically, the presence of those three flashing dots just meant he had started to type something and then forgot or had something else to attend to, but that knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety growing in your chest.

He was out there, doing god knows what, on his daughter’s 18th birthday, presumably alone and hurting–and there was nothing you could do but wait. And cook him a lasagna of course. Which you had, giving your apartment the pleasant aroma of onions, tomatoes, and ricotta cheese as the dish baked.

Your consciousness vibrated with the tenacity of an anxious chihuahua, listless with boredom and concern about your sweetheart of a neighbor. Squirming out from under Max’s head, you chuckled as the sleepy pitbull huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, bubba. I need to move around.”

In the final 30 minutes that you lasagna baked, you managed to throw together some simple pastry dough and pull out the small basket of cherries from your fridge. Popping one of the scarlet fruits into your mouth, you began to pluck the remaining stems off before removing their pits. Once they’d been sufficiently prepped, and your hands were adequately smattered with droplets of maroon fruit juice, you dumped them unceremoniously into a pot to create a compote. It didn’t necessarily pair well with lasagna, but you’d promised Frank a cherry pastry.

Originally, you’d considered making him a cherry basil frangipane, identical to the ones you’d stacked in the bakery’s display case that morning. But, after the day he’d probably had, you figured he’d want something…less intricate. The compliment you’d given him during his first visit to the cafe still held true–Frank was simple and honest. He wasn’t difficult to please, but fancy words and expensive ingredients alone wouldn’t cut it. The food had to be good. So, you pulled out all the stops, making a recipe that you hadn’t made since you lived with Leo: cherry turnovers.

Unlike your wonderful neighbor, the majority of patrons in the city needed a reason besides quality to continue giving you business. Elaborately decorated pastries and unique flavor profiles were what kept the cafe in business, so you hadn’t tried selling a modest dessert like these since your first few weeks at the Rainy Day Bakery. It was familiar, comforting even. You hoped it would bring Frank similar satisfaction.

Trading the bubbling lasagna for a tray of triangle-shaped pastries, you brushed your hands on your hips. Re-covering the pasta dish, you hurriedly cleaned your kitchen, wiping away the traces of flour and sugar that inevitably dusted your countertops after you baked. As you rinsed out the mixing bowl, a high-pitched whimper popped the bubble of silence surrounding your apartment. Sitting rigidly by the door to your apartment, Max’s dark eyes pleaded with you.

“Gosh, you’re right, bud! It is dinner time. I’m sorry, I got carried away. Let’s go get you set up, huh?”

Snatching Frank’s spare key from your counter, you attached Max’s thick leash to his collar and jogged him back to his apartment, adding an extra handful of kibble as an apology for making him wait. Stroking his short fur a few times, you slipped the key into your pocket, scurrying back over to your apartment to grab the turnovers before they caught fire and reduced the building to ashes.

Carefully balancing the pastries and lasagna in your hands, you marched back over to Frank’s apartment. Pretty soon, and with only one close call, the food was lined up on Frank’s countertop to cool. Brushing your hands together, you admired your handiwork.

“Please tell me ya haven’t been sittin’ here with the door open all night.”

The gruff voice behind you made you jump in shock. Whirling around, your fear morphed into pure joy as you took in the ruggedly handsome man before you.

“Shit, Frankie! You snuck up on me.” You practically squealed, rushing to hug him in greeting. He grunted as you slammed against him, hissing as you squeezed your arms around his hips. Eyes widening in realization, you started to pull back. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I–”

Before you could unwrap your arms from his body, his broad hands splayed across your back, muscular arms tugging you back against his firm chest.

“‘M fine, honey.” Came Frank’s soothing rumble. You felt him press a kiss to your crown before he buried his face in your hair. “Missed you like crazy, sunshine.” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear the darling confession.

“God, I missed you too, Frankie.” You chuckled, your eyes prickling with tears, your body in awe of your own honesty. With his stubbled chin atop your head and his thick arms around your waist, you felt entirely sheltered by his body. He’d created a bubble of safety and serenity for you, as he always did.

Remaining in his arms, you shifted out from under his head to examine him. Though you’d felt it across your scalp, his beard was noticeably overgrown and in need of a trim. His hair greasy and mussed, streaked with grime, just like his face. The skin of his face was tinged red, with blush or sunburn you weren’t quite sure, and the bags under his eyes were deep. In spite of yourself, your bottom lip stuck out, brow pinching in concern. Bringing a hand up to cradle his face, you stroked a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the sizeable bruise across it.

“Oh sweetheart. What did they do to you?” You asked quietly, feeling choked up as the hulking man nuzzled into your touch, his eyes falling shut with a weary sigh.

“It’s nothin’.” He murmured, his words worn out—as if he’d spoken them so many times they’d lost all meaning.

“Then it shouldn’t take long to get you cleaned up.” You smiled, the gesture not making it to your eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his prickly cheek before unwinding his arms from your waist. He started to retract his arms, to tuck them against his sides, but you caught his fingers with yours, grasping his hands tenderly. “Come sit, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.”

The poor man didn’t argue. Instead, he let you tug him to the couch and sit him down, his lips twitching with fond amusement when you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. “This ain’t mine.”

You shrugged, the hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I redecorated.”

“I was barely gone three days.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes at you.

Poorly stifling a smile as you pretended to be annoyed, you spoke as though it was obvious why you’d done it. “Your apartment is freezing, Frank. Did you want me and Max to get hypothermia while you were gone?”

He huffed a laugh. “Still bossy.” Letting his head tip back to meet the spine of the couch, his eyes fluttered shut. Your cool touch manifested on his cheek once again.

“Do you have a first aid kit, Frankie?”

“Under the bathroom sink.” He answered, his words slurred ever so slightly with fatigue. He received a slight squeeze of his arm in response, your warm fingers leaving a lasting imprint on his skin.

A year ago, he would never have let himself have this—a moment of peace. Time to let his guard down, to trust someone else to ease his pain. But the combination of his aching body, his heavy eyelids, and your fussing nature had him letting go of a tension he’d held for years, and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Soft footsteps alerted him to your presence. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear you shuffle into a crouch, your chest positioned at his knees.

Stifling a groan, he straightened his posture, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on his day old stitches. His eyes immediately focused on your adorable form in front of him, your own gaze roaming over the various bruises covering his visible skin. Dipping a washcloth into a small bowl of water, you gently lifted his wrist, washing away the dried blood on his knuckles. As you worked, a small river of dirty water–tinged pink from his scarlet blood–dripped down his fingers and onto your dress.

He watched the trio of droplets fall, time slowing as if to highlight the moment that reignited his anxiety. Splashing across the multicolored fabric, the liquid seeped into your skirt, staining it as you held his hand. Your kindness was endless, and his presence was tarnishing it, ruining it, ruining you.

Jerking his hand backwards, he cradled it close to his chest. “Lemme do this. I’m gettin’ blood on your pretty dress, sunshine.” He started to stand but you shook your head, gently pushing him back into the cushion and taking his hand in your grasp once again.

Looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that you always seemed to carry, your lips curved into a small smile. “Frank, it’s just a dress, sweetheart. I promise it’s ok. Let me help you?” With your free hand, you stroked a wayward strand of his hair off of his clammy forehead.

Despite the fact that your gaze conveyed your desire to continue patching him up regardless of his answer, your tone was stilted–giving him the option to deny your help.

“You’re too sweet for your own damn good, you know.” He sighed, letting his arm go limp in your grip to let you finish what you’d started.

“Well, you’re too stoic for yours. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?” Your eyes glimmered roguishly, your smirk encouraging him to roll his eyes.

“Whatever you say, sunshine.” He snorted, knowing full well that you were right.

You made quick work of tidying up the split skin across his knuckles, moving on to the bruised skin of his cheeks.

“Didn’t know you were growing this out, Frankie.” You quipped, tugging gently on the untamed curls of his beard.

His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse of his teeth as he smiled. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Whaddya think?”

Making a great show of shuffling back to study his face, you tapped your chin. “I like it.”

“You do? Last time it was this long, everyone thought I was some sort of hipster.”

Shrugging, you focused your eyes back on the cloth in your hand. “I always like how you look, Frankie.”

Frank’s breath caught in his throat, unable to quite make it to his lungs. Thankfully, he could blame his lack of response on the fact that you were rinsing the injuries on his face, rather than his own lack of emotional intelligence.

Eventually, you heaved out a breath, looking at him with a raised brow. “Did you want me to look at whatever’s bothering you here?” You asked, gesturing to his hip.

“If I told ya I have no idea what you mean, would ya call me on it?” He grumbles, not quite sure how he’d feel revealing that much of himself to you.

You thought for a minute. Nodding once, you answered. “I’d roll my eyes, but respect your desire for privacy.”

Swallowing thickly, he huffed a nervous laugh. “Fair enough.” With two fingers, he tugged his loose shirt up and over his head, not bothering to disguise his grimace as he rotated his injured shoulder. Pulling the waistband of his pants down an inch, he suddenly felt a surge of fear, not sure how you’d react to seeing his array of scars.

Inhaling sharply, you traced around his stitches with a finger. “Oh, Frank.”

“It’s—“

“It’s not nothing.” Taking his hands again, your intensity returned. “You mean something to me. Seeing you hurt…it’s never nothing, ok? Not to me.”

A lump formed in his throat, he nodded as he tried to swallow it down. “Sorry.”

“No apology necessary,” You squeezed his hands, placing a tender kiss on the raw knuckles of his right hand before grabbing a roll of bandages from your pile of supplies. “I’m not upset that you’re hurt. I just don’t want you to be afraid to lean on someone else for a change.”

You dressed his larger wounds in contemplative silence, your soft skin a welcome change to the rough contact he was used to.

“How’d ya learn to patch people up, sunshine? Playin’ nurse for other neighborhood menaces behind my back?”

You giggled. “You’re my only patient currently. Cross my heart. I’ve just gotten used to first aid after injuring myself my whole life.”

Bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, Frank’s brow furrowed. “Injurin’ yourself? What do you mean?”

Eyes widening in realization, you shook your head. “Not intentionally! I’ve just been a klutz for as long as I can remember.” Chuckling sheepishly, you added, “Takes a toll every once in a while.”

Laughing with relief, he traced a finger along your jaw as he withdrew his hand from your face. “Ah, gotcha. Christ, had me scared there, pretty girl.”

Your face flushed with heat at the new pet name. You tied off the fresh bandages and stood up. “You should be good to go, unless you’ve got any other areas that need to be looked at?”

Blushing as his mind traveled to less innocent places, he shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you. Really.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You winked at him, heading to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty water and trash. As you rinsed the last of the grime from the bowl you’d used, Frank moaned behind you.

“Holy shit.” His words were mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, the other half of a cherry turnover in his hand. Swallowing with another horrifically attractive noise, he lifted the dessert in a gesture. “Did you make these?”

“Yes, but they were for after dinner!” You scolded, your smile completely betraying your feigned annoyance. “Cherry turnovers. Do you like them?”

“No, they’re awful.” Frank deadpanned, shoving the rest of the pastry into his mouth ungracefully. You giggled, uncovering the lasagna before he could reach for another turnover.

“Would you like some actual food, you heathen?” You asked through stray laughs.

“You made me a lasagna?”

“Thought you might want some comfort food today. So I made two of my favorites.”

“Thank you,” Frank spoke your name gravely, as if it was a prayer. “God, sunshine, I dunno what to say.” Your heart ached as his voice cracked around the words.

“You don’t need to say anything, handsome. Just eat, so you can rest soon, yah?”

Frank couldn’t help but let the tension he’d been carrying for days roll off his back like droplets of water, his eyes crinkling with fondness as you puttered around his kitchen as if you had it memorized. You plated two hearty servings of lasagna and took a seat next to him, handing him a fork.

“I’m glad you made it back safely.” You smiled, your gaze more timid than he’d ever seen it.

“Me too, sunshine.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, he speared the fork into the food on his plate, taking a massive bite.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Frank groaned, beaming at you.

Laughing brightly, you took a bite of your own, overjoyed to have Frank to eat with again.

Thanks for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated.

Taglist: @cheshirecat484@xxdrix@smhnxdiii@mattmurdocksstarlight@danzer8705

#frank castle #my writing #marvel #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #frank castle imagine #frank castle angst #netflix the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal #fc #gray skies

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serpulalacrymans · 17 days

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(@sage-olivia-bellerose) Sage had once again managed to break in during Lawrence's work hours—it wasn't her first time, and she had no intentions of it being her last.

She quietly shadowed him, too timid to engage in conversation. The courage to speak had eluded her for far too long; her actions had escalated beyond simplicity, harmless curiosity, or plain intrigue. Yet, despite her bold intrusions, she remained too timid and apprehensive to confront him directly.

Occasionally, she'd discreetly rearrange things, hoping to offer assistance once she felt she knew him well enough to help without drawing attention to herself.

But tonight was different. Tonight, she sought solace for herself.

Feeling unwell, her heart and mind teetering on the edge of chaos, she couldn't shake off the weight of past rejections. The memories of people's stares and sudden dismissals haunted her, despite her attempts to simply be her peculiar yet restrained self around new acquaintances.

All she wanted was to find a moment of respite in his bed, to quiet the voices telling her she'd never be enough. And in the midst of her spiraling thoughts, she found herself inadvertently succumbing to sleep—tears staining Lawrence's sheets—a vulnerable moment that left her exposed, a rare occurrence in her otherwise discreet surveillance of him.

Lawrence had been bothered lately. On edge. Uncertain of what was happening, or why his things would be moved, or why the air felt heavier, or this or that, but he could never find the source of his anxiety spikes. Like it was nothing, but also something. Hidden. Creeping.

He's home. He almost doesn't want to be. He sets his things by the door. Tightens all the locks- must be protected. Kicks his shoes off his feet, slips his jacket off his shoulders, going one button at a time as he removes his shirt- tossing it onto the chair nearby. Fingers run through his hair with a deep groan, comfortably, unsuspectingly undoing his low ponytail and massaging his scalp. Lawrence then brings his hands to his pants, turning while pushing dow- Freeze.

He froze. He froze, and not even his thoughts would move. His bed is all sorts of shapes. Weight that is not his own. Somehow, someway, someone had gotten inside despite his best efforts to keep strangers out, and now they are at this standstill. Only one awake, yet both unconscious. He has an advantage he can not yet use due to.. Fear?

Curiosity?

Lawrence forced himself to move. He crept closer, eyeballing the woman in his bed. Why is she here? How long has she been here? She's.. Vulnerable. Exposed. Easy. He could feel his heart pumping and head spinning. He can't control himself. He can't control himself.

In a violent, aggressive reaction, Law slammed his hands down onto the strangers neck and back, pinning her to the mattress. He then tried to find both her wrists to restrain them- avoid the risk before it's a problem at all. He spoke not a word during his efforts. His eyes- full of fear, disdain, and curiosity, said all there was needed to be said.

#//HOPE THIS IS OK I HAD TO RUSH THE ENDING IM SO SORRY #//im sorry it took so long too aaaaaaa!!!! i have a bad habit of that!!

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centralperkchenford · 2 months

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Chenford 6x01 flip + what if Lucy walked away and has a panic attack and needs Lucy (everyone leaves him)

I hope you enjoy this! Title based off of the song during their argument scene 💔

Chenford 6x01 flip + what if Lucy walked away and has a panic attack and needs Lucy (everyone leaves him)

See how fully I've been broke And let me start again

“Tim.” Lucy says and her voice isn’t soft like it usually is with him. It’s on edge like it has been all day. It’s full of anxiety and brokenness that he for some reason cannot fix. He knows she’s struggling, spiraling but he was just trying to help. All he wanted to do was help her.

“Tim!” Lucy voice sounds again and he looks up at her. Her eyes are full of unshed tears and it’s breaking his heart. “Are you even listening to me?”

He nods and straightens his shoulders. “Look all I did today was have your back.” He says. “If you can’t see that—”

Lucy bites her lip and looks up at the sky, and then back to him. “I’m tired.” She says. “I’m going to go home. I will see you tomorrow.”

Tim watches as her eyes fill with more tears and she opens her car door and slides in. Tim swallows down everything he wants to say, scream out. Why was she walking away? Why was she leaving?

He turns around so he doesn’t have to see her leave and climbs into his truck. Usually they will come to work separately but if he got off at the same time as her they would meet each other at Lucy’s apartment and occasionally his house.

They hadn’t really spent a night apart in months and the fact that they are tonight makes his chest tighten.

He unlocks his truck and climbs inside and takes a deep breath and lets it out. Maybe walking away, giving each other some space was a good thing. Maybe they both needed it. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel and he wants to start his truck and drive home. But his house with be empty. Kojo won’t even be there because he’s spending the week with Genny and the boys. He doesn’t want to go home to an unfamiliar place, because that’s what it’s become. His home. The place he slept was just that a place. His home was Lucy. It was her apartment, small and cozy. It was her bed and her candles that she lit all the time. It was him getting up in the morning to make them coffee and coming back to bed.

Home was Lucy.

He sighs and starts his truck and pulls out. He somehow makes it to his house but he doesn’t go inside. He can’t.

He thinks back to their conversation, to the day that started out with them casually flirting and then ended with a fight and tears. It ended with them going their separate ways, for space.

What if he messed up? Why didn’t he fight for her more? Why didn’t he realize she was struggling too?

His chest tightens again and he grips the steering wheel. When did everything get messed up and so quickly too?

Damnit.

He told Lucy he couldn’t lose her like he lost Isabel and it was true. He was terrified of losing Lucy that way. Because Lucy was different, he felt a different kind of love for her. It was all consuming and passionate. He just wanted to be around her, it was overwhelming just thinking about how much he loves her.

His hands shake as he reaches for his phone, his screen lighting up. There’s no need to messages or phone calls. He’s not surprised, if Lucy wanted space he would give it to her but—

He loves her, he can’t lose her . He can’t lose someone who cares about him too. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel until they turn white and he has to release them. His chest feels tight and his breathing is uneven.

She’s going to leave him. Just like everyone does.

His mom because she couldn’t take the abuse anymore.

Isabel because she thought she had to live up to his standards and her drug addiction didn’t help.

Rachel and Ashley because they wanted what they wanted. With or without him.

Lucy had never left him, not even when she went to UC school. Sure it was awkward and weird but she came back.

And now…

He couldn’t let Lucy be yet another person who left him. He picks up the phone and dials her number. It rings once and then twice before she answers.

“Tim?”

“Hi.” He mutters. “Sorry to bug you I just—” He hears her shuffling around a little, and he hears a song in the background.

“You aren’t bugging me Tim.” She says gently. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry for not realizing you were struggling today. I could have been more supportive and just listened.” He says and he hears Lucy suck in a breath.

“You were supportive Tim. I just needed to think and I may have overreacted.” Lucy quietly. “I’m sorry too for taking it out on you. For walking away.”

Tim takes a deep breath and looks at his dark empty house. “Do you—” He pauses. “Do you still want space?”

“No.” Lucy says. “I—” There’s a tap on his window and he looks over to see Lucy with her phone pressed to her ear. He smiles despite himself and opens the door. Lucy is in his arms in a few seconds. It’s comforting just holding her against him, he knows they need to talk about what this all means but he knows they will. They always do, it’s one of the things he loves about Lucy and his relationship.

It’s worth the effort.

He pulls her close and kisses the top of her head. She turns in his arms and looks up at him. “I’m sorry for walking away.” She says repeating her words from earlier. “I just—”

“I know Luce.” He says softly. “It got in my head that you were going to leave me. Walk away from me.”

“I wouldn’t walk away from you that easily.” Lucy says. “You said I deserve someone who is worth the effort.”

“You do.”

“And so do you.” She says reaching up to cup his face. “Remember when you said we are worth the risk?”

“Yeah.” Tim says closing his eyes and going back to the day where Lucy wasn’t quite his yet but they were getting there.

“Well if it means being with you.” She says standing on her toes to give him a kiss. It’s soft and sweet. “Then I will take the risk over and over again. Because you are who I want Tim.” Tim smiles at her and brushes some hair out of her face.

“You are who I want too.” He says. Lucy nods and Tim takes her hand leading her to the house. He stops at the door, his hands traveling to her waist. “I really am tired. How about we go to bed and we will talk but—”

“That sounds good.” Lucy says and he unlocks the door leading her inside. He doesn’t know what the future holds for Lucy and UC work but he does know they will make it through anything because they were worth it.

#chenford #the rookie #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim x lucy #chenford fanfic #anon answered #chenford fic #lucy x tim

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tricks-n-illusions · 3 months

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[Reaction to this post] - [Lady Ombre belongs to @ask-noonescity]

Alts have been added for smaller text.

Silas pulled his hand away in response, he wasn't expecting rebellion towards his threats, especially one he said with such confidence. The sudden physical contact made him cringe, despite his face being hidden his body language made it obvious he felt discomfort at being touched. He didn't like that, not one bit, her lack of fear was unnerving and the sinister grin she gave made his skin crawl. It felt like the power and advantage he had over her was suddenly pulled out from underneath him. He didn't have control over the situation anymore and that terrified him.

As she leered back everything in his body was screaming at him to run, yet just as before when faced with something much scarier than himself he froze like a deer in headlights. He didn't know how to react, he didn't know what to do and he was so confused by the situation he didn't even realize the unexpected stinging pain that was quickly starting to dig into his fur. It was only when he felt his mask finally beginning to slip that his panic and self-preservation finally kicked in.

"Please stop-!" Silas yelped out in fear, his claws were franticly clawing at the vines but he did little damage to them. It was like all his efforts to escape meant nothing to her, he felt so helpless and scared. Of course, he would die this way, a victim to his own stupidity. His breathing quickly spiralled out of control as he felt the vines begin to tighten, he didn't like this. It all felt so sickeningly familiar to him, the pressure around his neck, the way he gasped for air and panicked, it was all much too close to something from his past. This had happened before? Hadn't it? This was something he was acquainted with, something he knew well. She always did this to him, just another punishment on the long list.

And for some reason, everything in his mind couldn't stop him from melting back into those moments. She was here again, wasn't she? Back from the grave to torment him? Despite everything he knew, every logical thought denying her existence in the present he couldn't shake the thought. In one last ditch effort to ease his anxiety, he opened his eyes... But that only gave him a passing glance of a face he knew well.

Lady Ombre was truly gone, her words falling on deaf ears as she lectured the fox. All that replaced her was the terrifying memory of a ghost here to hurt him once more.

Silas franticly kicked and squirmed in the air, his tiny paws were desperately attempting to tear at the magical energy around his neck. Seance merely looked on in annoyance.

"What are you good for if not? You really don't know how to do anything, do you?" Seance scoffed, her magic was slowly tightening around the fox's neck more. Her grip easily constricted his airway. "I asked you to kill... one person." She held a singular claw up as the tiny Giratina spirit drifted around her, "But you couldn't even do that little fox, could you?" "Why do I even ask you to do things, what are you worried they're going to hurt you?" She laughed as Silas struggled. "You should be more scared of me than some stranger, did you not learn what happens when you don't listen? Was the tail not enough? Do you need another reminder?" "What's next, Hm..." The ghost hummed, pacing around the fox in thought. "How about an ear, or maybe." She suddenly grinned as her eyes darted back to him. "An eye? Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you? Every time you'd open your little eyes and realize you can't quite see the whole picture, you'll remember me and think about how much you should have listened... How does that sound, hm? Or I could finally just kill you?" Silas frantically shook his head in reply, the air he was able to breathe in was getting more scarce by the second. "You're right. That'd be too merciful, someone as horrible as you doesn't deserve mercy." With the last bits of air he could get the fox gave a broken plead.

"Ugh, Seriously?" She groaned.

Silas hit the ground with a loud thud, the sudden allowance of air instantly threw him into a coughing fit. Seance however just stared down in irritation, her ears twitching with every sharp cough. "Are you fucking done now?"She asked in irritation, she obviously felt no remorse for her actions. "Stop the dramatic coughing fit, you're not getting any sympathy from me. You want sympathy then why don't you crawl your way back to your human, hm?" "I'm sure she's stupid enough to reward your misbehaviour with pets and kisses. You always did like being a little pampered pet, didn't you? Having a soft bed and food in your bowl~" She mocked. "Disgusting really, you pets are all the same." Silas only continued to cough before he made a weak effort to stand.

He only looked down in shame, despite her scolding, tears quickly began to fill his eyes. But there was no sadness, no emotion to go along with them all he felt was a disconnect from his surroundings as he drifted back into reality. [ . . . ] It seemed Lady had let go of him long ago, but he was too stuck in his head to have noticed. He only sat there in silence as his hand cautiously wandered to the place where the vines were. The presence of pressure still lingered even if the vines were no longer there. He seemed confused, unsure why Lady Ombre didn't simply kill him when she had the chance.

Just as she left the fox made a frantic scramble for his mask. Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes, all he could mutter out was faint repetitive apologies as he shakily took the kitsune mask in hand.

Once he felt it in his hands a faint calmness washed over him... He took a long moment to stare at it in silence. His claw was gently scratching at the smooth surface of the mask, a feeble attempt to help ground himself in the present day. He still seemed extremely shaken up from the interaction with her. His hands were unintentionally trembling, and he couldn't stop his tears from worsening as moments passed. He was so tired of this, he was so tired of showing weakness and letting strangers have power over him. He was getting so tired of people treating him badly, pushing him around, finding new ways to get under his skin and bring him to the pathetic tears he struggled to hide. "Everything is fine..." He muttered before he finally flipped the mask, completely set on using it to conceal any leftover tears.

"Why do I always do such stupid things…"

-> Oh? What's this? Seems Silas will remember this interaction. Lady Ombre has been added to the relationships page. -> Silas has been... slightly injured and will have minor scratches going forward.

#long post #No need to read this Its just cushion for story✨#tni: chrono #tni: silas rune #tni: seance #gif #tw: child abuse #tw: abuse #tw: flashing gif #Ah there it is! The one thing you should never do to Silas: physical contact with a side of aggression 😅#Dude has so much trauma stored in him✨#*coughs*#Someone better get him a: “So you might have [insert 50 different random headcanons]?” brochure before he blames it on being...#Pathetic (tm) again /lh #Im probs asleep rn this is queue buuuutt #ill post a cute lil palate cleanser in a bit here 🎶 Its even got some North and Wisteriaaaa innnn itttt!#Chapter 1: The Introduction #tni: little fox

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laurenairay · 9 months

Text

The slightest chance love might exist - T. Jost

Summary: Chloe is more nervous that she cares to admit when it’s time to meet Tyson’s family.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of past cheating, some bad language

A/N: again it’s been a while since I’ve written for Chloe and Tyson – but every time I do, I’m drawn back into how much I love their story. And we get a little more of a hint about Chloe’s past relationship here!

Series masterlist (if you want to sign up for the tag list, it’s in the above masterlist link!)

Title: Standing outside the fire, by Garth Brooks

“So, Chloe…”

“Well this is ominous,” she cut in dryly, raising a sharp eyebrow.

Tyson flushed heavily, huffing out a laugh, but she wasn’t going to apologise for interrupting. She’d been chopping vegetables for a stew – it was her turn to host and cook dinner – when Tyson started awkwardly hovering next to her, fingers picking at his nails in a way that silently showed her he had a lot on his mind. Chloe may only have known him for 9 weeks, and only been his girlfriend for one of those, but she knew him well enough to notice when he had something on his mind.

“I have to tell you something. Don’t get mad,” he said hesitantly.

I have to tell you something.

Don’t get mad.

That choice of words made her put down the knife she was holding next to the raw carrots, resting her hands flat on the counter to hide how they were trembling ever so slightly. He was not off to a great start. It didn’t help that this wasn’t the first boyfriend to say something like this to her.

I have to tell you something.

Don’t get mad.

The last time she heard those words, her two-year relationship ended. Her last relationship. Years ago, sure, but the words haunted her all the same. She never thought she’d hear them from Tyson. Surely he couldn’t have…

“What did you do?” she asked quietly.

She didn’t know if it was the question or her tone of voice, but his face immediately shifted into confusion, only making her swallow heavily.

“Was there someone else?” she asked, not daring to look at him.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear the thought of Tyson, sweet Tyson, being with someone else. But if that was her reality, she needed to know.

“What?” he choked.

“I mean we’ve only been together for a week, right? I promise not to get mad,” she said, forcing out a small sad smile.

Tyson seemed to freeze for a moment before groaned, closing his eyes briefly, but what confused her was the way his fists clenched.

“I swear to god, if I ever meet your ex-boyfriend, I’m going to punch him right in the throat,” he said darkly, eyes opening to stare at her.

What?

“Chloe, baby,” he said, shaking his head at her frown, “There isn’t anyone else. There hasn’t been anyone else. What I was trying to say is that my mom and my sister are coming down next weekend to stay for the first week of playoffs, and I lost track of time until my mom literally just texted me.”

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Shit, Tyson, I’m sorry,” she groaned.

Of all the things she could’ve accused him of. She should’ve trusted that he wasn’t like her ex. She should’ve known. How could she have-

“Woah, hey, take a deep breath for me.”

His soft voice broke her out of her spiralling thoughts, hands gently resting on her shoulders to ground her, and when her foggy mind cleared enough for her to take a shaky breath, her eyes stung with tears at the worried look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have accused you of cheating on me,” she managed to choke out, trying to keep her composure.

“Chloe, the only thing wrong with what you did was that you were resigned to it, not angry. You have nothing to say sorry for, okay?” he said sadly.

“I just…I…”

She trailed off, breaking away from his gentle hold to run a shaky hand through her hair. After all these years, a stupid simple sentence was enough to break her strictly-regulated poise. How pathetic was that? What was wrong with her?

“I’m not mad. I’m not even remotely annoyed. I’m just worried about you,” Tyson murmured.

“Brilliant,” she muttered, looking away from him as her eyes stung again with embarrassed tears.

A few beats of silence, before Tyson sighed.

“What can I do?” he asked.

She dared to look back at him, swallowing heavily at the soft expression he wore, eyes wide and honest and sad. If nothing else, that only filled her with more shame. Why did she have to jump to conclusions? How could she have possibly thought that Tyson would cheat on her?

“Rewind the last five minutes?” she suggested, attempting to smile.

Tyson’s genuine sweet smile in response settled a little anxiety in her chest, even more so as he shook his head.

“I’m sorry that you were ever made to feel this way. And I am sorry for the stupid way I started this conversation. Your shitty ex is not going to ruin this evening though, okay?” Tyson said softly.

Oh this sweet sweet boy. She sure as hell didn’t deserve him.

“Isn’t it already ruined?” she said quietly.

“Not as far as I’m concerned. We’ve still got a stew to finish and I want to tell you more about my family,” Tyson said, shaking his head.

Chloe huffed out a laugh, trying desperately to blink away her ridiculous tears. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

He just smiled even wider, finally earning a small smile from her in response. She would do better. She would have to do better. There was no way she wanted Tyson to ever see her that shaken up again.

Chloe spent the following week feeling like her intestines were in knots, the anxiety over meeting the two most important women in Tyson’s life building and building each day that passed. It didn’t help that her stupid assumptions, her insecurities, still played on her mind. She knew enough to call it trauma, even if she didn’t like thinking about the fact that her ex had so deeply affected her, but she also knew that she couldn’t let it continue to affect her relationship with Tyson. What they had between them…it was good. It was so good.

She still didn’t know what she’d done to deserve him.

Still, by the time Saturday came, the 30th of April, her nerves hadn’t dissipated. Tyson had tried his best to reassure her that everything would be fine, he also had playoffs to prepare for (starting on Monday 2nd May) as well as preparing for his family to visit. Chloe tried to help where she could, but there was honestly only so much she could do and still maintain her sanity.

Her ex had already known all of her family. She didn’t have any precedent to compare meeting Tyson’s mom and sister to.

At the very least, Chloe had decided to give Tyson a little space on the day that his mom and sister arrived. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to meet them – despite her internal worries – but she also knew how much he missed them. And she could only guess how much they missed him too. Instead, she suggested that she would come over for dinner. It was intimate enough to be special but still casual enough not to cause pressure.

She knew her limits, and Tyson respected them in turn.

That didn’t mean she hadn’t fretted about what to wear or bring with her or even how to greet them. All of this was so out of her comfort zone it wasn’t even funny, and if he was anyone else she would’ve absolutely cancelled or maybe even ghosted. But considering that it was Tyson…she couldn’t do that to him. And if she was being honest with herself, there was a part of her that didn’t want to end everything with him just because of this. He wanted her to meet his family – it was important to him to intertwine their lives.

That had to mean something, right?

To ease her nerves, Chloe decided on a plain black velvet dress – it was scoop-necked with long flowing sleeves and floated down to her knees, and while it may not have been anything exciting, it was comfortable and it looked good enough to make her look like she was making a little effort without trying too hard. Pairing her pin-straight white blonde hair with her usual silver jewellery for all her piercings, her usual smoky eye make-up and some simple black sneakers, she toned down her typical red lips for a grey-tinted lipgloss, giving herself enough confidence in her own appearance to leave the apartment on time.

On the drive to Tyson’s apartment, she also picked up a bottle of wine. It was the right thing to do, bringing something with her, right? She honestly had no idea what the appropriate etiquette was for meeting someone’s family, especially at the partner’s home, but she figured that wine was always a safe bet, and even though she wouldn’t be drinking because she was driving, maybe his mom would at least appreciate it? It was a long shot, she knew that much, but it felt wrong to turn up without something. She at least had to decide on something to stop herself overthinking, so a bottle of nice white chardonnay would have to do.

As for greeting them, Tyson took care of that himself.

“Chloe, baby, I’m glad you made it!”

Tyson’s happy declaration and following slow but firm kiss, as soon as he opened the door to her, took her by surprise.

“Let her breathe, dumbass.”

She winced slightly at the snicker sounding behind Tyson, pulling back quickly. Had she already made a bad impression? Fuck, what would they even think of her, kissing him without saying hello to them?

“As always Kace, you have impeccable timing.” Tyson huffed, wiping the lipgloss trace off his lips with a thumb.

There was something in the teasing tone of his voice that allowed Chloe to breathe a little. Okay, maybe not so bad so far. Breathe. She needed to just breathe.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend Chloe,” Tyson said, smiling between the two groups, “And Chloe, this is my mom and my sister Kacey.”

“Please, call me Laura,” his mom quickly said, smiling warmly.

So that was where Tyson got his smile from.

“It’s nice to meet you both. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Chloe said, as friendly as her nerves would allow her, hoping her smile wasn’t as awkward as she felt.

“Tyson hasn’t shut up about you at all. I love the vamp look,” Kacey grinned.

What?

Tyson grimaced as Chloe froze, but Kacey either didn’t notice or chose to barrel on through.

“Total boss ass bitch vibes. How did you get someone this hot to agree to date you, Tys?” Kacey finished, turning her head to send her brother an innocent smile.

Oh. Oh. Vamp look was a compliment. Alright, she could take that, especially if Kacey thought it was hot.

“I don’t know how, I ask myself that every day,” Tyson said simply, as he smiled down at her.

Ridiculous. But still…if he was being genuine, then so could she.

“You were sweet and endearing,” Chloe said, shrugging, “You weren’t scared of me even though I intimidated you, and I liked your smile.”

Tyson immediately flushed a deep red, Kacey hooting with laugh as their mom cooed, clutching her hands to her chest. Chloe just smiled to herself, glad to be able to speak the truth without it costing her any pride. It was the principle of the thing.

“You two are so sweet!”

Sweet. Hah. That was a first.

But Tyson just grinned at her, nudging her with his hip, so Chloe nudged him back. She could do this. She could so do this.

The four of them walked into the apartment properly, Tyson locking the front door before resting a hand on the small of Chloe’s back, the casual touch setting her butterflies going crazy. Just this little sign of gentle open affection in front of his family was overwhelming – she had no idea how she was going to cope for the rest of the evening.

“I didn’t know what we were doing about dinner, but I bought some wine for us anyway,” Chloe said, once they’d reached the kitchen.

“Chlo,” Tyson murmured softly, almost like a coo, making her shift uncomfortably.

“Oh Chloe that’s so sweet of you! I think we were going to just order in some food, so no-one had to be stuck cooking, but we can definitely put this in the fridge to chill for when it arrives?” his mom suggested.

All praise Laura Jost.

“That sounds good to me,” Chloe nodded, passing the wine over, “Thank you.”

“Someone has to be helpful, if Tys is going to be useless,” Kacey grinned.

“Rude,” he muttered, cheeks flaring with blush.

“Accurate,” Kacey snorted.

This dynamic explained a lot about how he reacted to her, it really did. It was kind of reassuring to see, if she was being honest, that she wasn’t a complete anomaly in his life.

It didn’t take long for them to order a multitude of dishes from Chloe and Tyson’s favourite Thai place, and by the time the four of them were sitting on the sofa with drinks while they waited for the food to arrive, Chloe’s nerves had melted away. His mom and sister were so genuinely friendly, asking her questions about herself and her life and how the two of them had met, all the while not pressuring or interrogating her in any way. It was easy to see how much they loved Tyson, and how much he loved them, and she felt almost honoured that she got to be apart of this moment. The more she got to know them, the more she appreciated Tyson for setting up the whole evening, knowing in her heart that she had been right to trust her instincts not to just run away.

She was meant to be here, right here, with Tyson and his family. And she was excited to explore what the feeling meant, even as much as it scared her.

Eventually, their dinner arrived, and they all moved to the dining table to eat, Chloe just staying silent with a pleased smile as Laura took the seat next to her, forcing Tyson to sit opposite with a surprised but pleased smile of his own. That was a good sign, right? The food was incredible as always, each of them trying a little bit of everything, reaching across each other to pick at the dishes, passing other dishes across each other, and talking and laughing above it all. It was all a bit of controlled chaos, if she had to put it into words, but it felt so natural and warm and welcoming, and Chloe couldn’t remember the last time she felt so comfortable around new people.

Probably when she’d first met Tyson 10 weeks ago.

All too soon it was time for Chloe to leave though. Tyson had tried to insist that it was fine if she stayed over that night, that his mom and sister wouldn’t care, but she refused, knowing that he had so little time with them during the season. It was important that they spent family time together, just the three of them, and to be honest the whole evening had been overwhelming enough, even if it had been positive.

Besides, she would see them for every game they were here – his mom and Kacey had made her promise. That was mind-blowing enough. What she had done to deserve them immediately warming to her, wanting to spend time with her, accepting her and Tyson…well, she had no idea.

But she did like it. She could admit that much.

“Let’s trade numbers! I’ll trade stories of Tys as a dumb kid for stories of him as a dumb kind-of-adult,” Kacey grinned.

“Hey!” Tyson protested.

Chloe just grinned. “Deal.”

“Hey!” he repeated, hands on hips.

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh herself as Kacey cackled, handing over her phone while Kacey gave her hers. This…was the last thing she was expecting. To have his mom and sister accept her so easily? No strings? Just like that?

Then again, considering how easy-going, and sweet, and accepting Tyson was, it shouldn’t really be a surprise that he learned it from two amazing women.

“There, done,” Kacey said, beaming as she handed her phone over.

The Best Jost (🔥💃🏻😎)

Chloe snickered at the name alongside the flame, dancing girl, and sunglasses face emojis, as Tyson looked over her shoulder, pouting at what he saw, quickly typing in her own number.

Chloe (🧛🏼‍♀️💋🖤)

Kacey grinned as she read her phone entry, laughing at the vampire, red kiss, and black heart emojis. It was good to have an in joke, right?

“Call me when you get home?” Tyson asked, taking her hands in his.

So affectionate and sweet in front of his family? It was almost too much. Especially as his mom sighed happily.

“I will?” she offered, trying not to be too awkward.

Tyson just grinned, almost as if he could read her thoughts. Well damn.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” he said simply.

With a final round of hugs and promises to send lipstick recommendations, Chloe and Tyson left his apartment, Tyson threading his fingers through hers without hesitation. Mortifyingly, Chloe found herself blushing, blatant on her pale face, but Tyson either didn’t notice or politely didn’t mention it.

“So that went well,” Tyson said, smiling sweetly.

Chloe let out a sigh of relief. “It did, right?”

“I told you that you had nothing to worry about,” he grinned.

She immediately frowned. “They’re important to you, Tys. It was a legitimate concern.”

“To you maybe – but I knew as soon as they saw how much you adore me…”

Chloe’s scowl at his teasing words sent him cackling as they walked into the elevator, a family trait she’d noticed multiple times tonight.

“…and how much I completely adore you, that everything would be fine. They’re pretty protective of me, so I know that they like you already. Otherwise my mom wouldn’t have sat next to you while we were eating and Kacey definitely wouldn’t have given you her phone number.”

Well when he put it that way. Still, the little hesitant voice in the back of her head needed to be certain.

“Are you sure?” she asked hesitantly.

“Chlo, baby, I’m 100% positive. They think you’re amazing, just like I do.”

Damn her blushing cheeks.

“Okay I’m done,” she huffed.

Tyson just laughed, leaning down to kiss her softly. Chloe couldn’t help but sigh into his kiss, responding slowly and intently, only pulling away as the elevator slowed to a stop. Tyson just stared at her, a little misty-eyed and stunned, Chloe laughing softly as she tugged him gently out after her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay over?” he asked wistfully, guiding her to a stop and taking both hands in his.

“I’m sure. Enjoy your family time, okay? I’ll see you on Monday,” she said firmly.

As much as she wanted to absolutely go back upstairs with him, tonight was not the night.

“See you. And text me when you get home safe, don’t forget,” he said firmly.

“You’re ridiculous, Tyson Jost,” she said dryly.

Sweet, but ridiculous all the same.

He smiled that winning smile at her, giving her butterflies she was more than happy to deny existence of. “Only about you, Chloe Duncan.”

Taglist: @starshine-hockey-girl @youngbeezer @fiveholegoal @senditcolton @corneliaskates @fallinallincurls @typical-simplelove @redpool

#my writing #tyson jost fic #there's a chance series #tyson jost x chloe #tyson jost x oc #tyson jost fanfic #tyson jost imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfic

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