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foreverrogers · 2 years

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a black mile to the surface ⤞ a black mile (1/5)

Pairing: jeb pyre x f!singlemom!reader

Summary: it's the spring of 1986, and Jeb Pyre is a new man... or at least he's trying to be.

Warnings: single mom! reader, mention of LDS, a touch of angst, two (2) whole OCs, and that's about it!

Words: 2.1k

A/N: chapter one is finally here!!! a pretty short opening chapter but i think the next ones will be a little longer. i'm not entirely sure how i feel about the characterisation yet but this was so fun to write regardless! hope you enjoy :)

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It's warm in this part of Idaho.

It had been the dead of Winter when Jeb arrived, a week after his first Christmas alone in Salt Lake, snow rolling in off of distant mountains that seemed to melt into the horizon.

They were beautiful, even if they had made the first couple months in his empty little apartment cold ones, coloured by frozen pipes and heavy clouds beyond frosted windows. He could recognise their beauty for beauty's sake, now. He thinks that might be all that matters.

Jeb meets you on the first day of Spring.

There's a warm gust of air as the doors of the station open, something sweet and floral carried in along with it. They had planted fresh flower beds outside the station over the weekend, bright pinks and reds and yellows to greet the new season, and Jeb thinks it must be the light scent of them drifting through until he looks up and realises it's you.

You're holding a huge bouquet of flowers, resting on your hip like a toddler, all white and subtle pink framed by pale craft paper. You smile at the officer at the front desk, seem to ooze a comfort and familiarity rarely seen in a police station, offer a greeting Jeb can't quite make out as you walk past.

Jeb doesn't mean to stare. Or rather, he doesn't mean to be so obvious about it, following your movements through the station with your wide smile and your bright eyes and your friendly waves. He thinks the clock might start ticking a little slower.

For someone staring so much, he doesn't realise you're walking towards his general direction until you're right there, only a few steps away with amused eyes narrowed at him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

It's only a split second, when you hold his eyes and watch the light blush spread across his cheeks before he scrambles to look down, pretends to return to whatever work had been forgotten the moment you walked in.

He doesn't look up, even if the tug in his chest tells him he needs to, not as you breathe a quiet chuckle or as you stop only a few feet away from his desk, place a gentle knock on the door of his Captain's office. "Delivery," You sing, playful and sarcastic and bright. "Worst husband of the year award."

And Jeb doesn't mean to eavesdrop... But he was a detective, after all. Curiosity was half of the job. "You're a lifesaver, Y/n."

Jeb's first clue is that his Captain had never opened his door that fast in the three months he had worked there. Nor had he ever looked quite so tense, shoulders hunched, eyebrows pinched together, exhaustion etched into the creases of his forehead. The last time Jeb had seen him look this stressed there had been a stabbing on Main Street.

"Yeah, yeah. If your wife kicks you out it's my couch you're gonna be sleeping on, so, you know. Neither of us wants that."

Jeb watches his Captain sigh, runs a hand through his hair, follows the pattern of his receding hairline and the grey that's started to bleed into it. "Still, I owe you big time, seriously."

"Oh, that you definitely do," You beam, undoubtedly smug, pass over the bouquet and move to carefully fix the placement of the flowers as they sit in his arms. "I expect a bottle of the fanciest pinot you can find and unlimited access to your pool for the next six months."

"Done and done."

"Really?" You ask, and even turned almost fully around Jeb can hear the pleasant surprise in your voice. "That was... A lot easier than I expected. Pleasure doing business with you, I'll see you next time."

He ducks his head again as soon as he sees you start to turn, must have been too obvious because he only hears you take a couple of steps before there's silence again. A dim shadow falls over his paperwork, blearing yellow lights of the station blocked away.

"You're new, right?"

Jeb looks up, eyes wide, mouth shaping words that seem to slip out of his grasp as he reaches for them. "Uh, yes. Right."

You smile at him, and Jeb's unsure when he forgot how to act like a human being, only knows that right now his words and the colour of his face are failing him. "Sorry, I just know most of the people around here by now. Small town and everything," You explain, trail off for a moment as you watch him, something edging on fascination creeping into your features, like you were trying to read him, figure him out. You shake your head, seem to catch yourself. "I'm Y/n, by the way. I'm, uh, the Captain's sister."

"Detective Pyre," He introduces, holds his hand out to you before he realises he should be standing. The metal of his chair scrapes against the linoleum, a piercing shriek that earns a couple pointed looks he doesn't have to see to feel directed at him.

You just smile wider, reach out to shake his hand. Your nails are a neat, deep red. "First name Detective, last name Pyre?"

"Jebidiah," He corrects, immediately shakes his head at himself because when has anybody ever called him Jebidiah? "I mean Jeb. People call me Jeb."

You're still trying to bite back your smile as you drop his hand, nod lightly as you move to adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder. He tells himself it's just the cop in him that notices you're not wearing a wedding ring. Another clue. "Well, Detective Jebidiah Jeb Pyre, it's lovely to meet you."

Jeb opens his mouth, moves to say something his brain hadn't quite formulated yet and finds himself saved by the door of Captain Y/l/n's office swinging open again.

"Y/n," He calls lightly, leaning through the door frame with his phone clutched against his chest.

"Mhm?"

"Jack wants to know if you're still here."

You sigh, bring your wrist up to straighten the face of your watch. "Can you tell him I'll be home in ten?"

There's a quick nod before Captain Y/l/n retreats back into his office

"Sorry," You mutter, turning back to him with a shake of your head. "My son, I'm supposed to be taking him to a soccer practice later."

"You have kids?"

"Just the one, just started high school."

"You seem young to have a son in..." Jeb's saying it before he registers it, doesn't catch himself until he watches the smile creep back onto your face. "Oh, I, uh- I just meant that you-"

"It's okay," You laugh, smile and cheeks undeniably warm. "It's, um. Very flattering that you think so. But I just got married straight out of high school, so..." You trail off, look down for a moment and Jeb thinks he's embarrassed you, that he's already said something stupid to the first person that's been this nice to him in months.

"Hey, I'm from Salt Lake so there's no judgement from me," He tries, earns a surprised breath of a laugh as you look back up at him and- did he just make a... joke?

“Ex LDS?” You ask, still half laughing, and Jeb feels the rush of heat flood his face.

He smiles back, anyway, straightens his tie just to have something to do. “That obvious?”

“Well, if you live around here long enough you figure out the way only ex-LDS seem to talk about it.”

The phone at the front desk rings, draws both of your attention to it for a moment and seems to remind you that you have somewhere to be.

You check your watch again. “I should get going but, uh. It really was nice meeting you, Jeb.”

“Likewise,” He mutters, can’t seem to figure out why he’s suddenly out of breath.

—--

It smells like chlorine all the way in the driveway, like sweat and hot chemicals mingling in the air.

It's a warm day even for Spring, and in accordance with the weather, Jeb can hear the splashes and muffled yells of children emanating from his Captain's backyard.

He tries the front door first, a polite knock followed by a slightly more forceful one after a few ignored minutes. There's a sturdy manila folder in his grasp, the paperwork Captain Y/l/n had promised to finish up even on his day off. It's been almost a year now, but as Jeb absentmindedly taps his fingers against the card he thinks he's still not used to the missing weight of his wedding ring on his finger.

He gives up, before that train of thought gets too far, walks back onto the drive and search for the gate to the back yard.

"Oh, hi there!" There’s a woman greeting him, pitcher of lemonade in hand as she smiles wide and hospitable. "Are you looking for Jonny?"

“Uh, Captain Y/l/n, yes.”

“He should be just over…” The woman turns, scans the yard and Jeb mimics her actions, looks for the familiar face of his Captain and, instead, finds yours.

You're already looking at him, attention seemingly drawn by the exclamation of your sister-in-law, eyes narrowed through the glare of the sun. He doesn't realise you're not wearing anything but a bright red bikini until he's probably been looking back for a little too long, sat at the edge of the pool and kicking your legs slowly through the water as you sit back on your palms.

He was still getting used to this, maybe a little more than some of the other things that were rare sights in Salt Lake. There was a lot more skin, wherever he looked, expanses of it smooth and glowing in the sun and leading down to- Oh... He was definitely staring.

Jeb has to make the conscious effort to tear his eyes away from you, thanks whatever God he still believes in that Captain Y/l/n is already waving him over when he looks up.

He feels overdressed, suddenly, surrounded by damp children and bikini-clad bodies and his Captain wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks and a bright blue Hawaiian shirt.

Jeb offers him a pinched smile, lifts up his hand in a brief wave before starting across the yard, towards the other side of the house where the Captain waits beside the already open back door.

He almost makes it the whole way across without looking, because he doesn't want to be impolite and because for some reason the sight of you makes his face burn a little hotter under the heat of the sun. He does look, though, unavoidably, because he can feel your eyes on him as he passes and because he can't help himself.

You grin when your eyes finally meet, expression almost triumphant as you bring your hand up to wave, fingers wiggling through the shimmering heat.

There's another woman there, suddenly, in the water beside you and tugging at your leg. It pulls your attention away from him, and Jeb ducks into the house before he can be tempted to look back.

Jeb gets a whole fifteen minutes of work done before there’s a knock on the door of the study.

“Yeah,” The Captain mumbles, still half looking at his paperwork as he lifts his eyes to the slowly opening door.

“Sorry to interrupt, could I steal some records?”

You’re behind him, again, the smooth lilt of your voice floating into the small office.

“Of course.”

You make brief eye contact as you slip into the room, broken by Captain Y/l/n asking him a question he has to ask to repeat.

The white, oversized button up your wearing isn’t doing much to cover up the bright pigment of your bikini, nor is it even attempting to hide the bare slope of your legs, still sticky and damp from the pool, tracking faint wet marks across the carpet.

Jeb thinks this really might be becoming a problem.

—--

“Oh, before you go!”

Jeb’s hand is already on the handle to the front door, and he turns towards the voice behind him, watches as you walk up to him with a smile. You’re still only wearing that bikini, white shirt buttoned loosely in the middle. Jeb swallows.

You look over your shoulder and step closer than you maybe need to, just so you can speek lower. “We’re throwing a surprise party for Johnny next Friday. For his ten year anniversary as Captain. The cop bar in town at 8? Will you come?”

There’s something about the way you say that last questions, will you come?, the wide hope in your eyes that makes him falter a little before speaking. Jeb smiles. “I’ll see you then.”

request something! masterlist // series masterlist

#i have never been to idaho i am rolling with like 2 pictures and vibes #jeb pyre #jeb pyre x reader #jeb pyre fic #jeb pyre fanfiction #under the banner of heaven #utboh #utboh fic #utboh fanfiction #andrew garfield #this had no write to take me so long but !!!!!

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foreverrogers · 2 years

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Hii Hayes!!!

Congrats on 1.5k!! 🥰🥳 Very well deserved indeed. I love your work ❤️

I'm here to ask for some austen if you feel up for it. I was out of ideas for quotes so I went into my notes app and I found this from The Cruel Prince by Holly Black:

It turns out that having kissed someone, the possibility of kissing hangs over everything, no matter how terrible an idea it was the first time.

I was wondering if you could write something on it with Jeb Pyre (or any of your other characters I love them all).

Love ❤️🥰

thank you thank you hun!!! i don't think I've ever written a blurb so fast, this quote is so perfect!

cw: post utboh, smoking, drunken kissing, allusions to loss of faith, very brief mention of hitting knuckles as a punishment {1.5k}

austen - the queen of romance. send me a favourite quote of yours (can be anything! books, poetry, plays, songs) and I'll make it the theme of a little blurb/dialogue

he had been drunk. the first time, at least. he still wasn't used to being drunk, had spent so many years being told it was a sin.

maybe it was a sin, but he didn't care anymore.

wanting you felt a little bit like that, too. like it was wrong, like you were something out of bounds he should feel bad indulging in, made him feel like a child sneaking treats out of the pantry when nobody was looking, waiting for somebody to come scold him, hit his knuckles until they couldn't reach anymore.

it didn't help that you were younger than him, not much but just enough for it to make everything feel a little scandalous, the pretty young thing at the front desk who had caught his eye on day one.

he had felt worse about it, then, when you had first met, about seeing you and immediately wondering what you felt like, what you smelt like, what you tasted like.

he got to find out all those things, eventually, in the alley of a cop bar at midnight during a retirement party. he had watched you slip out of the back door, finds you lit by the dim, flickering yellow of the street lights and the faint glow of your cigarette. god, you were bad. bad for him. a bad idea. reaching, knuckles waiting to be hit.

you smile at him when you see him approaching, all wide and warm, red painted lips curving deliciously.

he smiles back, smaller, a little less sure. he might be drunk, but he wasn't far gone enough to not realise he was encroaching on dangerous territory just by being here with you, alone in the dark. he still wasn't even sure if you thought about him like that, the way he thought about you, takes all the half glances he had caught over the past couple of months and calls them circumstantial evidence at best.

there's no greeting as he slides next to you, back pressed to the steady brick wall. all you do is offer him your cigarette, already burned halfway down and stained lightly with your lipstick.

"i don't smoke, but thank you, though."

you don't relent, keep your hands stretched between you, ash swaying slowly to the ground. "can you be tempted?" by more than a cigarette, yes.

he looks from the cigarette to you, watches the flutter of your lashes and those doe eyes looking up at him and thinks you must be doing this on purpose, putting on a show to draw him in, doesn't think anybody could look this beautiful without trying.

he takes the nub between his fingers without looking away from you, brings it to his lips with a long, steady inhale.

you start to grin at him, at some point in the seconds of his inhale, giddy realisation that he's done this before.

so maybe he had smoked, just a little, a few puffs behind the station when things got especially stressful, enough to take the edge off but not enough to come home smelling like smoke. you wouldn't mind, he thinks, if it was you he was coming home to.

"thought you said you didn't smoke."

jeb exhales, unwavering, relaxes against the building, proves to calm the hot anxiety spreading through his veins at this new proximity to you. "it can be our secret."

your smile softens, and you study his face so intently it makes his throat close up a little.

"needed a break?" he asks, just so he can change the subject, so he can break you out of whatever puzzle of him you were putting together in your mind. "from in there?"

he offers you the cigarette, and you accept it with a hum of agreement. "i don't think the wives like me very much," you mutter, look away to breathe in one last drag before snubbing it out against the brick. "don't trust me. think all i am is a skirt and a smile to distract their husbands."

jeb doesn't know what to say, and so he doesn't say anything.

there's nothing to do now, with the cigarette gone, has to give you his whole attention when you meet his eyes again. "do you find me distracting, jeb?"

there's silence, long and heavy.

jeb doesn't know what to say, and so he kisses you.

there's no delay, no surprise. you kiss him back like you had been expecting it all along, hooking your fingers into his loosened tie and pulling him to you until he's pressing you against the wall.

you're soft, like he knew you would be, soft where his hand comes up to cup your cheek and his arm moves to wrap around your waist. you taste like smoke and liquor and sugar and you smell the same, too, the sweet cut of your perfume and your lip gloss.

jeb doesn't remember the last time he kissed someone, but he sure as hell knows he's never kissed anyone like this, hot and hot and hot, molten honey dripping from your tongue.

the heavy back door opens with a screech, and by the time the two drunken officers stumble out of the bar jeb's already sprung to the opposite side of the alley.

they both fall past without noticing you, or the thick tension they walk right through, tripping over their own feet and into the deserted main road.

jeb's not sure if he's blanched or if he's blushing, but either way he's glad you can't tell under the dim lights.

he knows by the way you watch him as he walks into the station the next morning that you remember everything clear as day. jeb can, too, does more than just remembers it, can still feel you all over him like a haunting reminder of his indiscretions.

if he thought you were distracting before, he was unprepared for how distracting you were when you were trying. and you were really trying, always coming up with new ways to corner him, to get him alone in the copy room or the break room or even just walk past him in the corridor, brush arms without catching his eye.

every time he would try not to look at you, and every time he would fail, would find your eyes already lingering and the quirk of a smile on your lips. he tries not to watch the curl of those lips, tries not to think about kissing you again.

he gets the overwhelming feeling that you're playing with him, a dangerous game of cat and mouse he's certain he's losing, on the precipice of getting eaten alive.

it's a deserted night, a sunday, and with no one to go home to jeb stays at work long after the sun has set over the mountains.

when he walks into the car park you're leaning against the hood of his car. you smile at him, like you had in the alley. you're even wearing the same lipstick. "i was starting to think you might be living at your desk."

"just, uh..." jeb furrows his brows at you, steps slowing until he pauses a safe distance away, taken aback, undeniably confused. "had a lot of paperwork to catch up on... are you... okay?"

"yeah, 'course i am," you're still smiling, sickly sweet, tone almost too innocent, the type of innocence that only exists to hide something wicked underneath. "i just didn't really feel like going home by myself, so i was wondering if you wanted to... do something tonight."

he almost misses it. by myself. "... together?"

your smile brightens, amusement in your eyes now, and you breathe a gentle laugh as you tilt your head. "yes?"

jeb has to clear his throat, tries not to draw too much attention to the way he loosens his tie a little, an attempt to remember how to breathe again. "uh, what did you have in mind?"

"i don't know, anything, really. dinner? movie?" and, after a few beats, "or you could just take me home, if you'd like."

jeb gapes at you, just slightly, the lightest purse of his lips, and he doesn't mean to but he also can't seem to stop.

"don't look so scared," you smile, back to playing that faux innocence. it's sheer now, though, jeb can see exactly what's underneath, and it takes a lot more restraint than he's willing to admit to not give into it immediately. you take a slow step forward, and then another, soft clack of your heels against the concrete ringing in his ears. "i don't bite, promise."

jeb still hasn't closed his mouth, and now you're close enough that he thinks you might actually act upon it when you look at his lips. he speaks, only because if he kisses you again he's not sure he'll be able to stop. "dinner sounds nice."

come join my 1.5k sleepover!

#jeb pyre #jeb pyre fic #jeb pyre fanfiction #jeb pyre x reader #utboh #andrew garfield #hayes' 1.5k celebration #foreverrogers' 1.5k celebration #hayes muses #under the banner of heaven #queue <3

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