#// STOP PUTTING THE BLUE EYED BITCHES IN THE SINK OH MY GOD!!!

[cheebuss]

SIGH

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Happier|Part Two

A/N: Here it is! Thank you to everyone who has read part 1 and has sent back such kind feedback. It really means a lot! 

Part 1

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, angsty as hell 

Just open the fucking door.

You hesitated as your right hand hovered over the familiar front door. Over the last five years you’ve always just walked in. This home was like your home. But now, he wasn’t just his.  

“Just walk in. It’s not rocket science.” You muttered to yourself. Sighing you tapped your fist against the wood. 

Your body relaxed a smile fell on your face as you heard Dodger’s familiar bark ring through the house as he approached the door. 

“Alright, bubba. Relax.” The butterflies flurried in your stomach as Chris’s voice carried past the door. You gave a small smile as the door flung open to reveal a shirtless Chris. “Why did you knock, you meatball.” 

You just shrugged and quickly gave him a hug. 

“What are your plans for tonight?” You asked as you both made your way to the kitchen, his arm slung loosely over your shoulder. 

“I was supposed to go watch the game with Scott but he wasn’t feeling too hot, so I’m actually just going to stay in. But don’t worry, I won’t get in the way of your girls night.” He laughed, ruffling your hair as you turned the corner and caught view of Carissa. 

“Yeah no boys allowed. Right, Y/N?” Carissa dried off her hands and rushed over to you, pulling you into a full body hug. You bit back the frustration when you realized that she was wearing the shirt that you always wore whenever you would spend the night at Chris’s, the familiar fabric like sandpaper under your fingertips now as you gently hugged her back. 

“Yeah. No boys.” You said meekly as you took another good look at her. The shirt looked way better on her than it ever did on you. It fell just below her hips, the way it did on you but she somehow made it look so stylish. She just had on a pair of workout leggings underneath and fluffy socks. Her blonde hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail and you noticed how she managed to not look like a founding father with her hair pulled back. 

Subconsciously you twisted the bottom of your oversized college crewneck in your fingers. You were practically wearing the same thing as her but you felt like a middle school girl in gym class while she just screamed model off duty. 

Add that to the reasons he noticed her and not me. 

You needed to stop comparing yourself to her. But it was hard when the stark contrasts were so evident. 

“So,” Carissa clapped her hands together. “Chris told me about your love for tequila so I made some of my famous spicy margaritas! And I just put on some popcorn and I may have gone a little overboard at Ulta today.” 

You followed her gaze and it landed on an array of face masks and nail polish. 

“Sounds like my que to leave. Have fun, ladies.” Chris pecked you on the cheek before pulling Carissa into a passionate kiss. You turned away, your face reddening. 

“Thanks, baby.” You heard Carissa sigh. You heard the sound of them kissing again and you looked for any welcome distraction. 

As if he could feel your pain, a wet nose booped your hand and you smiled down at your favorite little pup. 

“Hi buddy.” You bent down and pressed a kiss to his nose. “I’ve missed you so much. Yes I have.” You ruffled his fur and smiled a genuine smile as he started licking your face. 

“Oh boy, Bubba found his girlfriend.” Chris laughed as he bent down next to you. “I think he missed you more than I did when we were in Canada. Every time we would FaceTime his ears would perk up.” 

“That’s cause he’s my best bud.” You kept talking to Dodger. 

“Ouch.” Chris gently pushed you. You winked in his direction and for a moment everything felt normal. Chris’s eyes sparkled as if he was appreciating the normalcy too. 

“Chris, please.” You were snapped out of it when Carissa let out a playful whine. 

Chris blinked and then slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “Alright, baby. I’m gone.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“He did not!” Carissa burst out laughing as you finished telling the story of when Chris singlehandedly knocked down an entire aisle in CVS. 

“I’ve never seen him turn so red in my life. I think he went back to that CVS every day for the next year to apologize. And of course he stayed afterwards to help clean up.” You wiped your eyes, tears falling from laughter. 

“Sounds just like him.”  

You took another sip of your margarita. You were surprised at how much fun you were actually having. You guys had just finished your second sheet mask of the night and were currently working on demolishing the stuffed crust pizza you ordered. Manis and Pedis to follow. 

“Have I walked in on an evil plan being hatched?” You both turned as Chris emerged from the basement, Dodger in tow. Thankfully he had put a shirt on because his tattoos always did something to you. 

“Had to share the CVS Incident of ‘17.” You replied as Carissa hid her face as she giggled again. 

“Oh god,” Chris groaned, slapping his hand to his forehead. “Please. Let that story die.” You watched as he positioned himself behind Carissa, caging her in with his arms. You always knew Chris was an affectionate person. If it was a year ago, you would have been the one trapped between him. He had a lot of love to give and wasn’t afraid to show it. He placed a kiss on the top of her head before his blue eyes met yours. 

You knew that he was silently asking you if you were having a good time. You could see the sense of hope that was behind the question. 

“You came up just in time for a manicure.” Carissa turned around on the stool and smiled up at her boyfriend. “I’m thinking hot pink would look amazing on you.” 

“I don’t know, I think he’s more of an aquamarine kind of guy.” You lifted up the shade of blue that was in front of you. “Compliments his eyes.” 

“Ooh, you are so right, Y/N/N.” 

“Wow, would you look at that? Looks like the game is back on.” Chris jokingly started moving away from Carissa.

“Oh come on, baby. One hand.” Carissa pulled at his hand, her lips coming out in a pout.

Chris gave her a look of fake annoyance but you could see the smile forming on his lips before he let out a dramatic sigh.

“One hand.” 

“Yay!” 

You watched as Chris sat down and Carissa got to work painting his nails. 

“Okay, Y/N. Tell me about the men in your life.” Carissa looked away from Chris’s hand and turned to you.

“Well, I guess you’ve already met them. Chris, Scott and Dodger are it.” You shrugged, half kidding and half not. Chris gave you a look of what you could only call pity and you chose to ignore him. You could feel your face become hot at your lack of a love life. 

“Oh that can’t be the case. You’re absolutely gorgeous, there’s no way that men aren’t all over you. Right, Chris? Tell her she’s beautiful.” 

“She knows I think she’s beautiful.” Chris said, his tone seriously as his eyes never left yours. “It’s more of getting her to know that.”  

“We’re not going to talk about it.” 

You and Chris stared each other down before Carissa cleared her throat. 

“Well one day you are going to find something like what we have.  The hopeless romantic in me truly believes that there is someone for everyone; and I know that if we can find happiness like this, so can you. You’re an amazing person, Y/N.” 

You looked down and bit your lip. You wanted so badly not to like her, to have her be some terrible person so you could justify the feelings that you had for her boyfriend. And yet, here she was, being the kindest person and caring truly for your feelings and your happiness. 

“Thank you, Carissa.” 

She smiled a toothy grin before turning her attention back to Chris. Chris kept his eyes on you a moment longer but when you didn’t look back he sighed and focused on his girlfriend. 

- - - - - - - 

“You don’t have to do that.” Carissa came up behind you as you finished washing the plates from before. 

“It’s really no problem.” You shrugged. “You did all of this, the least I can do is clean up.” 

“Yeah, but you’re my guest. A host should never have her guest clean up.” You knew she meant it without malice but the words stung. She was right. That’s all you were in this house, a guest. You were their guest. They lived here, together. 

You just nodded and finished the plate you were cleaning before stepping away from the sink so Carissa could finish. You mumbled that you were headed to the bathroom and quickly made your departure from the kitchen. 

You rounded the familiar corner and bit your lip as you were five steps away from the bathroom, where you could finally take a deep breath. 

“Hey sweetheart.” You jumped as Chris stepped out of his bedroom, a grin plastered on his face. “I think you made a good call on the nail polish color.” He waved his fingers in your face, jokingly. 

You let out a soft laugh but refused to meet his eyes, instead eying the bathroom door that was so close and yet so far. 

“Okay, come on.” Chris’s voice got serious. “Is there something going on at work? Are you sick? Why are you so…” Chris motioned his hands up and down your body. 

“So what, Chris?” 

“So sad?” His eyebrows creased in concern. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

Not everything. 

“I told you at the restaurant, I’m fine.” 

“Yeah and I barely believed you then.” You bit your lip and once again looked away from him. You should have known that he knew you were lying out of your ass. 

“Chris, it doesn’t matter. It’s not your problem.” You huffed. 

“Of course it’s my problem.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“But it’s not.” You snapped. Chris took a step back at your sudden change in attitude. “Just back off. You’re not my boyfriend.” 

“And?” He snapped back, but he did move closer to you. He reached out and grabbed your forearms, pulling you into him.  “I may not be your boyfriend but I am your best friend.” 

“Chris, just let it go. It doesn’t even concern you.” You lied as you pushed him away.  

“Well clearly this one thing as something to do with me. Since you’ve been acting like a mega bitch since I got home.” He crossed his arms. 

You took a step back. Chris had never called you that before. Yes, you two had gotten into some heated discussions in the past and maybe have gone a couple times without talking to each other for maybe a day. But never once has he called you a bitch. 

“Chris!” Carissa’s scolding voice came from behind. “Apologize to her right now, there is no reason to call any woman that word.” 

Chris’s gaze held yours before it softened. 

He sighed and dropped his arms. “Fuck...sweetheart. I’m-” 

“Thank you for having me over, Carissa. I really did have a great time.” You turned away from him before he could finish. “I think I’m going to head out though.” 

“Of course.” Carissa glared at Chris over your shoulder. “Please let us-or me, know when you get home. We can plan another one soon.” 

“Sure.” You smiled weakly at her before casting one last look at Chris. He opened his mouth to say something but you just shook your head and made your way out of the house. 

Tags

@stopbeingcurious 

@lharrietg​

@thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

@username23345​

[americasass91]

Healing Ransom

Hello beautiful people!! This will be my first (I’m sure of many) submissions for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ amazing Autumn Challenge! Fall is my favorite time of the year! It’s got beautiful colors! Pumpkin everything! And Halloween? You just can’t beat it! I hope you enjoy this little story. It stars our one and only Mean Sweater Murder Daddy, Ransom!

Verbal Prompts:

“Please don’t be sad for me.”

“Shove it, satan.”

Location/activity prompts:

Walking through a park with leaves

Jumping in/raking leaves

Words: 3.8k

Rating: Explicit(of course it is😋)

Warnings: smut, Ransom being his usual dickish self, slight angst, death of minor character, funerals, sadness, language

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You had only been asleep for about an hour and a half when you were abruptly woken up by a cell phone vibrating loudly.

You open one eye and look towards the nightstand your phone is on. It’s silent. That means it’s his phone.

You smack your fuck buddy on the back of the head. “Ow, Y/N what the actual fuck?”

You turn over and pull the covers higher up on your naked body. “Your phone’s ringing asshole.”

He mumbles something under his breath you don’t quite catch as he reaches for his phone. “It’s Linda. Ugh she’s probably drunk again and calling to tell me how worthless I am. Fuck her.”

He throws the phone down on the bed and gets comfortable. “And why are you still here? You know how I feel about you spending the night.”

You raise your hand and flip him off. “You’re the one that fucked me into submission. I can’t help it that I fell asleep right after. Don’t worry, your highness, I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning.”

He’s about to reply when his phone starts vibrating right against your ass. You shriek and sit up and grab the phone.

Before Ransom even comprehends that you have it, you answer.

“Hello, Linda. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to Ransom please.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

You hand the phone to Ransom who looks at you incredulously. “Just take it. She sounds upset.”

He just rolls his eyes and snatches the phone from you. “Mother, why in the fuck are you calling me at 3 in the morning?”

You’re not entirely sure what she’s saying but Ransom went from being annoyed to showing no emotion on his face.

“When?...Who found him?...Okay..well, thanks for letting me know.” He hangs up and throws the phone back onto the nightstand.

He’s silent for a few minutes. He looks over at your questioning stare.

“My father died. Heart attack. His maid found him. Guess he’d been there for awhile.”

You immediately go to pull him into a hug. “Oh, Ransom. I’m so sorry.”

He pushes you away. “Please don’t be sad for me. He was a piece of shit who smoked like a chimney and never took care of himself. It was just a matter of time before something liked this happened.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “But he was your dad, Ransom. It’s okay to be sad about it.” You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

He grabs your hand and yanks you onto his lap. “I’m not sad. I don’t actually feel anything. It’s not like we had any kind of a relationship. Now how about since we’re both awake we go for round 5?”

You just roll your eyes and let him take your body to euphoria once more.

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That following Saturday you wake up to the sight of beautiful changing leaves. God you love Fall. It was the best time of the year in your opinion. Pumpkin everything? Yes please! Halloween? Oh, fuck yeah! Your favorite holiday.

You decide you can’t let this beauty go to waste. You throw back the covers and quickly dress in some leggings and a burgundy sweater you’re pretty sure belongs to Ransom.

You can’t help but admire all the beautiful Fall colors as you begin your walk. You don’t even need music right now. You feel so at peace during this particular morning. All the beautiful colors. The slight chill in the air. The smell of cider someone is selling from a cart up the way. You’re definitely going to have to get some of that.

You spot a pile of leaves on your way to the cart and you have the strongest urge to run and jump in them. You stop walking and look around. You’re alone. Fuck it.

You take off and giggle like a little girl again as you launch yourself at the pile of leaves. You lose yourself in them. Forgetting everything for a moment and just enjoying the freeing feeling. You’re enjoying it so much you almost miss your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You sit up and fish it out to see who’s interrupting your childlike moment. Ransom. You roll your eyes. The only time he calls you is when he wants sex. You’re just going to have to tell him you’re too busy at the moment.

You answer and put the phone to your ear as you lay back amongst the leaves. “Ransom, I cannot come over for some fuckery right now. I’m in my happy place.”

“Y/N. Hey. That’s not why I’m calling. Linda just called to let me know the funeral is tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d go with me?”

He doesn’t sound like himself. Sad almost. “Sure, Ran. Of course I’ll be there. Just let me know what time.”

“Visitation is from 2-4. The funeral starts right after. Then of course we’ll go bury him. Sorry your whole day will be full. I know how much you love your weekends.”

You shake your head and wave your hand in the air as if he can see it. “Ransom, don’t worry about that. This is more important. And besides, Monday is Columbus Day so I have an extra day off.”

“So that means you’ll be able to spend the night with me tomorrow night?”

You feel butterflies in your stomach. He’s never asked you to spend the night.

“Well, sure if that’s what you want.”

“Thanks, I’ll need to fuck all of my frustrations out from being around my family all day.”

Ah, there’s the ulterior motive. You feel your heart sink a little. “Yeah, sure. How about I’ll just come to your place tomorrow around 1 and we can head over to the funeral together?”

“Sure, sure. Look I have to go. I have to try to get this chapter written today. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course. Good luck with the chapter.”

“Oh and Y/N? Have fun playing in the leaves.”

With that he hangs up. You look around to make sure he’s nowhere around. How did he know you were in a pile of leaves?

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You head into the funeral with Ransom at around 1:45. Despite everything you can’t help but notice he looks handsome in his dark blue suit.

“God I hate funerals.” He says as he gazes around the room. He spots Linda.

“Well, who likes them?” You ask him as she approaches.

She throws her arms around Ransom’s neck. He reluctantly returns the hug.

“Oh, Ransom! I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

Ransom just rolls his eyes as he looks at you. He mouths ‘Help me’

You put your hand on Linda’s back. “Oh, Linda. I’m so sorry he’s gone.”

She lets go of Ransom and turns towards you. “Thank you dear. Even though he wasn’t my husband anymore I still loved him. A part of me always will.”

You glance over at Ransom who’s trying to avoid Walt that just walked in. You can’t help but know how she feels about loving someone like that. You love Ransom no matter what the 2 of you are. You think you always will.

You nod your head. “Of course you will. He was a big part of your life. And he’s Ransom's dad. He’ll always have a special place in your heart.”

She pulls you in for a hug. When she pulls back she cups your cheek. “I’m well aware that you’re too good for my son. But please don’t leave him. He can’t do any better than you.”

With that she heads over to greet more people filing in. You stand there shocked at her words. Linda has never been unpleasant towards you but that was the nicest damn thing she’s ever said to you.

You spot Ransom leaning against the opposite wall as far away from the other people as he can get.

You head over and stop in front of him with your arms crossed. “Ransom, aren’t you supposed to be talking to your family? Letting people give their condolences.”

“Fuck these people, Y/N. None of them gave a shit about Richard. I bet half of the women in this room fucked him at one point.”

You look around wide eyed to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Luckily they weren’t. “Jesus, Ransom be quiet! This is a funeral. And unlike you, some people are here to grieve!”

“Whatever, Y/N! You’re such a bitch. You didn’t like him either! You always called him a creep! So don’t stand there and act live you give a shit that he’s dead!”

Your mouth drops open. God he’s such an asshole! “You know what, fuck you Ransom! I do give a shit! Just because I thought he was a creep doesn’t mean I wanted him to die! I understand you’re grieving right now but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit. Maybe you should find somebody else to fuck out your frustrations on!”

By now the whole room is looking at you 2. You didn’t mean to be so loud but god dammit did he piss you off.

“You know what, Y/N? Maybe I will! Fuck off!”

He pushes away from the wall and stomps towards the door. “SHOVE IT, SATAN!” You can’t help but yell after him. You then take a look around the room and see everyone staring at you. “Sorry about that.” You quickly leave the room and head towards the kitchen area. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn around and see Meg following you.

“Y/N? Are you okay? God he is such a piece of shit.” She pulls you in for a hug,

You return it gratefully. “Thanks but I’m just worried about Linda. She’s already upset and I am certainly not making things any easier.”

She scoffs as she pulls away from you. “Oh, please! She was chuckling when you called him satan. Said it was an accurate name for him.”

You smile at her feeling relieved. “That’s good then. How are you holding up?”

She returns your smile. “I’m okay. Uncle Richard and I didn’t have a close relationship but I’ll still miss our debates we had.”

You nod in understanding. “I guess I should go find satan.”

Before you have a chance to leave the kitchen, Ransom comes in. He comes over and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t want to be here and I’m sick of these people pretending to grieve when I know they don’t care and I took my anger out on you. You were nice enough to be here with me today, you don’t deserve how I treated you.”

Your heart skips a beat. He never apologizes for anything. You pull away from the hug and cup his cheek. “It’s okay. Apology accepted. You get a free pass today. Now how about we head back in?”

He grabs your wrist and places a kiss on your palm. “Okay, will you stay by me?”

You pull him in for a quick peck. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

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The funeral was tastefully done. Ransom refused to ride over in the limo with the rest of the family. He said he wanted to drive over with you.

You pull into the cemetery and get out of the car. You look around for the gravesite. You don’t see one. “Ran, where’s the gravesite?”

Ransom just chuckles and points at the hill. “On the top of the hill. He wanted to be buried in the most expensive spot.”

You look down at your black pumps and then over at the slightly muddy hill. Well this should be fun.

Ransom sees your hesitation. “There’s a brick pathway. Your shoes are safe.”

You sigh in relief. Thank god. You follow the crowd that has now gathered toward the path. Ransom follows in step beside you. He grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. You feel those stupid butterflies in your stomach again.

You can’t help but admire the beautiful fall foliage. It puts a smile on your face despite the sad day.

Ransom rolls his eyes playfully at you. “You and your Fall.”

“It’s beautiful, Ransom! How can you not love it?”

You’re too busy looking at all the leaves to notice him staring at you. “Yeah, it is beautiful.”

You reach the gravesite and stand with Ransom near the front. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. If anything he’s holding onto it tighter.

You can’t help but let some tears fall as the minister says some more beautiful words. You chance a glance at Ransom and you see him wipe a single tear from his face. That makes you give his hand a reaffirming squeeze.

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Ransom wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck out his frustrations on you. He took you right against the wall as soon as you walked into his house. Then again on the island in the kitchen. And again on the stairs. (You’re sure to have bruises from that escapade). Finally finishing in his bed. You passed out almost right after the last one.

You woke up around 2 am with the urge to pee. You look over and see Ransom’s side of the bed empty. He must be downstairs rehydrating after all that fucking. You decide to quickly pee and then head down to find him.

He’s not in the kitchen like you thought. You’re about to go check his study to see if he’s up writing when you see a light on in the living room. You head in and see him sitting on the couch. His back is to you so he hasn’t realized you’re in the room yet. There’s something sitting on his coffee table. You move forward quietly trying not to disturb him in case he wants to be alone.

When you get close enough you see that it’s a framed picture of him and his dad. Ransom can’t be older than 16. They have their arms around each other’s shoulders. His prized Beemer is in the background with a big red bow on top.

That’s when you hear the sniffling. You quickly round the couch and see that Ransom is clutching a pillow and sobbing into it. You take a seat next to him. You put a comforting hand on his back and rub it up and down in a soothing manner.

He looks up at you, tears covering his cheeks. “You know I think this is the only picture I have of me and my dad. I think he was happier than me that day. He was so proud to pass his car down to me.”

You just smile sadly and pull him in for a hug. He throws the pillow away and pulls you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. You gently wipe away his tears with your thumbs. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I never even knew him, Y/N. And now I’m never gonna get the chance to.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck and tightens his arms around your waist. He starts sobbing again.

You rub one hand up and down his back and run your other through his hair. “Shhh, Ransom. I know you’re hurting. I’m so sorry you lost him.”

“I fucking hate this, Y/N! I hate feeling like this. So helpless. And he fucking died alone. That’s gonna be me. I don’t want to die alone.” He looks up at you so innocently. So heartbroken.

You grab his face with both hands. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale, you’re not going to die alone. If you’re that afraid of it then change your ways.”

He lowers his eyes towards his hands that are resting on your hips. “I just hate feeling this way. I didn’t even know him. Why am I so fucking sad?” He looks back up at you.

“Because you didn’t know him and you’re regretting that. It’s too late to do anything about it now. Unfortunately you’re just going to have to deal with it and grieve. Doesn’t mean you can’t change your other relationships though. So you don’t feel like this ever again.”

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in just enough until your lips are touching. “It hurts so much, Y/N. Please help me forget. Even for just a little bit. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” He pulls you in for a fierce kiss, enough to take your breath away.

After you gain back some control you push against his chest. “Ransom, I don’t think this is the best way-”

“Please,Y/N? Please take the pain away.”

Your heart breaks. You look him in the eye and nod your head. He pulls you back in for another heated kiss. If this was the only way you could take away his pain, even if temporary, you’ll give it to him.

You put your hands in his hair and give it a tug making him groan. One of his hands moves to your ass, making you grind against his growing erection. The other remains on the back of your neck, not letting you break the kiss. He needs you close right now.

He pulls back from the kiss. “Need you, baby. Please.”

You quickly stand up to remove your pajama shorts and panties while he lowers his sweats just enough to free himself. You straddle him again and stroke his length up and down a few times, smearing his pre-cum all over. You guide him to your entrance and sink down on him. “Fuck, Ransom. Always feels so good.”

You give yourself a few minutes to adjust once your hips are flush against his. He settles his hands on your waist while yours rest on his shoulders. You lean in for a kiss before you start moving up and down on him. Moving at the hard and fast pace you know he always prefers.

“Wait, baby, slow down.” He grips your hips to stop your movements. You look at him confused. He always likes it hard and fast. He tightens his hold on your hips and starts grinding you on him. “Just need to feel you, Y/N. Can we slow down?”

Your heart flutters. “Of course.” You take over and start grinding against him. Keeping a slow rhythm. You throw your head back and moan. God he feels amazing. You can feel every part of him like this. Usually he’s going so fast you don’t get to appreciate the feeling of him dragging along your walls like this. This isn’t about reaching orgasm. This is intimacy. This is about feelings.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. You take me so well. Like you were made for me. Made to fit me. My beautiful Y/N.”

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. You know this might not feel the same for him but it’s making you fall even more in love with him than what you already were.

You're not going to last long. Not only are your emotions getting the best of you but your clit is rubbing deliciously against his pelvis. He can feel you fluttering on his cock.

He pulls back and looks at you. “Gonna come for me pretty girl? I can feel you. You’re squeezing me so good. Let go, Y/N. I’m right behind you.”

You fall apart at his words. His name is a whisper on your lips. He buries his face back into the crook of your neck as he meets his end with a groan. Filling you up with everything he has.

You both stay like that for a minute. Just holding each other like you were afraid the other would disappear. He pulls back and looks at you again. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles softly at you. “I love you, Y/N. God I love you so fucking much.”

You feel tears fall down your face. “I love you too, Ransom. Always have and always will. I won’t let you die alone.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “No more of this fuck buddy stuff. I’m in this for real. For the long haul. I can’t feel like this ever again. I can live with how I feel about my dad. But you? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.”

“We’re talking about a relationship here Ransom. The exact thing you always said you didn’t want. What if it doesn’t work out? What if you change your mind?”

“It will work out, I’ll make sure it does. I won’t be changing my mind. You’re it for me. ��But if for some reason you decide I’m not what you want, then at least I can say I tried. I’m willing to regret you for the rest of my life.”

You melt at his words. This is all you’ve ever wanted. For him to love you. Why the fuck were you questioning it?

You lean back in for another kiss. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You lean in for another kiss. “Okay. But I’m exhausted. Can you take me to bed now?”

He chuckles and stands you both up. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get you to bed.”

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You wake up the next morning with the biggest smile on your face. Not only did Ransom confess his love for you last night but it was the most beautiful Fall day outside. You wondered if you could convince him to go for a walk with you.

The smell of coffee hits your nose and you quickly throw back the covers to head downstairs. As you turn to head into the kitchen you find Ransom. He’s dialing a number on his phone. His back is to you.

Curious, you stay behind for a minute to see who he’s calling.

“Hello, Mom? Hi. How are you?...Good….Yeah she’s here, she’s upstairs sleeping. I know, I’m not gonna let her go. Hey listen I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me today, just us?”

You can’t help the big smile that spreads across your face. Maybe Ransom was changing after all.

All Cevans characters taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

Coyotes in the Dark - Part Four

(A/N): This is part of a series. Please make sure to check the masterlist to see if you haven’t missed any chapters.

Masterlist

“We should paint the protecting symbol on your door.”

You give out a sigh as soon as you hear Andrew’s words, waiting for him to walk into the apartment before you close the door behind you. “I’m not painting any symbols anywhere.”

“What?” He snaps his head at you, droplets of water falling against the floor and disappearing a few seconds later. “If you’re not gonna kick that Veronica out, you should at least protect yourself!”

“If I put a symbol on my door, they're gonna notice that they can’t go in there.” You walk past him towards the kitchen, kicking off your boots on your way there. “And you won’t be able to go in there either.”

“You put a symbol on the bathroom door.” You don’t even react when his head suddenly pops up from the sink’s drain; his eyes looking at you when you reach for a nearby glass on the counter. “You don’t think they’re gonna be suspicious of that? Might as well add more protection-Ah!”

He screams when you suddenly open the faucet, water spreading through his ghostly head and making him scream from the weird sensation it gives him. You wait for him to finally disappear before you give yourself a glass of water, hearing him complain behind you while you take a few sips.

“They already noticed that they can’t access the bathroom. Taking it off will only raise more suspicions, and it’s not like they’ll notice the symbol. It’s hidden under the towel rack inside, remember?” You finish drinking your glass of water, then put it on the counter. “Besides, do you really want one of them to see me in the shower?”

You can hear him give out a squeaky noise, your eyes turning towards him to see a look of pure despair on his face mixed with an embarrassed blush. You give out a small smirk at that, a chuckle escaping your throat right when you flick his forehead.

“Hey!” He screams in frustration as soon as you do that, his hands wiping some water off his forehead. “What was that for?”

“You worry too much about me.” He gives out a pout as he looks down at his feet, the little ghost boy having always been around to protect you ever since he died. “I’ll be fine, Andrew. They don’t know enough about the ghost world to realize how much of a danger they can be to me.”

“But still…” Andrew gives you a worried look, biting onto his bottom lip as memories flash into his head. “… that JD ghost is smarter… what if he realizes your potential?”

“He won’t. I promise.” You know he doesn’t believe you simply by the look he’s giving you, which only seems to increase your smile. “And I have you here with me! The best guardian angel I could ask for!”

He gives out a snort at your words, the little ghost now shaking is head and making more water fall on the floor. “You’re an idiot…”

You don’t have time to think of a reply that a loud groan is suddenly being heard from the hallway; the hair on your arms raising along with the rapidity of your heartbeat. Andrew’s face contorts itself into an expression of pure fear just as you both look towards the sound. A scream escapes your lips as soon as you notice a dripping gray hand slowly moving out from the hallway and grasping the corner of the wall, but it’s the decaying face that follows the hand that makes you take a step back; its black eyes and melting gray skin are enough of a threat to make Andrew step in front of you.

A daemonium got into your house.

And you might not be able to survive it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Let’s see…” Veronica mumbles under her breath as she walks through a large number of hallways, her eyes looking back and forth between a small piece of paper and all the classrooms’ doors around her. “Only one more class to find…”

“Uuuugh…!” Ram’s the one to let out that word filled with pure frustration, making the live girl tense up. “Why do you even need to find your classes so early? This is boring!”

“I hate agreeing with these idiots,” Heather speaks through her teeth, her arms crossed over her chest as she gives them a side look. “But they’re right. This is way too boring, Ronnie.”

“Maybe not…” The two ghosts give Kurt a surprised look, the not-so naked jock giving out a smirk as he looks towards another direction. “Things could get interesting.”

They turn their head to follow his gaze, Heather already rolling her eyes when she spots a dead girl following some teacher around, though Ram immediately gives out a loud noise of agreement.

“Yo, dude! Great eyes! That girl’s hot!”

“I know, right?”

“You guys are absolute pigs.”

“Will you shut up already?” JD snaps his head at all of them, making them all send back a dark glare. “I can’t concentrate if you keep screaming!”

Veronica shakes her head to try and ignore them, having a hard time continuing to find her classes with them constantly complaining around her. Sadly for her, Heather doesn’t quite like to be boss around, especially not by JD.

“What? Still thinking about that (Y/N) girl?” She gives out a smirk when she notices the anger flash in his eyes, his white one always empty; his emotion only seems to increase when she points her red nailed finger at his face. “Are you scared that scared of losing Ronnie’s attention?”

Veronica feels her cheek warming up at that comment, but she doesn’t quite know why. You were her roommate, possibly a very good friend (she hopes so at least), so why does Heather is making it sound like you might become something more eventually?

And why isn’t she opposed to that idea?

JD looks away from Heather to set his eyes on the live girl, his white eye twitching when he notices the blush on her face. He would lie if he said that he didn’t hate you mostly because of your effect on her… but something about you is also off. Very off. And he doesn’t trust you one bit.

There’s no way you can be so nice and innocent; you must be evil in some way, why else would a ghost follow you around? You may not have killed a kid, but you were surely responsible for that ghost’s death. That’s the only reason why a ghost is bound to someone and not a place.

He’s gonna expose you for who you are no matter what.

“No comment?” He groans when he hears the pride in Heather’s voice, the blond giving out a chuckle. “Would you look at that? JD is jealous!”

“Shut up.”

She only chuckles even more while the two idiots watch and mumble in pure confusion, making the killer boy grind his teeth. He can’t believe that he now has to spend every single second of his afterlife with those three; either until Veronica dies or they start disappearing. He doesn’t really know, but god… he can’t help but wish they would all just go away. That way he can be alone with Ronnie forever.

Doesn’t that sound nice?

“Um, excuse me?” Veronica’s head snaps towards the voice that called out for her, her shoulders relaxing with relief when she notices that it’s another student. “You seem stressed out… are you lost?”

JD squints his eyes at the girl, feeling a sense of some sort of danger from her. She somehow reminds him of Heather; even though her red hair, green eyes, and freckles make her very different from the blond victim.

Still. Ronnie should be careful.

“Ah! Not really.” Veronica gives her a smile. “I’m just looking for my classes in advance, but I can’t seem to find my last one.”

“Oh! Maybe I can help you.” The girl takes the paper from Veronica’s hands without asking, making the live girl’s ghosts narrow their eyes at her. “Ah, I see! It’s not too far from here, I can walk you there if you want.”

“That would be great!” Veronica gives her a smile, making a movement to take her paper back, only for the girl to start walking away.

“She’s a bitch.” Heather squints her eyes at the girl, her arms still crossed over her chest. “I can tell.”

JD knows she’s right. Heather might be annoying, but she’s not an idiot… and her instincts are good enough for him to take them into consideration.

Especially when she makes his own assumptions right.

“Um…” The blue girl shakes her head and follows the red-haired girl, a little nervous now. “My name’s Veronica.”

“I’m Chloe.” The red-haired girl doesn’t even bat her eyes as she says her name, though she seems to realize something and turns a sweet smile towards Veronica.  “I saw you earlier with (Y/N).”

“Oh…?” Veronica seems taken aback by that, having not noticed that someone was watching them. “Well-”

“I’m sorry she suddenly abandoned you.” Chloe’s smile suddenly seems pitiful, the girl’s eyes eying Veronica with a sad gleam in them. “It’s kind of her thing. Don’t take it personally if she didn’t want to help you.”

“Oh, it’s not that.” The red-haired girl seems taken aback by Veronica’s words, JD listening to the conversation very closely. “She came with me to help but needed to go home last minute.”

“She came with you?” Chloe frowns, then gives Veronica a weird look. “You didn’t meet her here?”

“No, um…” Veronica doesn’t quite know how to answer, getting weird vibes from the red-haired girl now. “I’m her new roommate.”

Chloe suddenly comes to a stop, almost making Veronica bump into her. It takes a few seconds before the green-eyed girl gives out a dark chuckle,.

“So you’re the freak’s roommate?”

JD quirks an eyebrow at that. ‘Freak’, huh? Either he was right about you or that girl is as horrible as Heather was when they were in high school.

“What did you say?”

Chloe jumps up at Veronica’s words, then gives her a smile. “Ah! Sorry… your class is right there.”

She points towards a door next to the blue girl just as she gives the paper back, Veronica unconsciously grasping it as she looks at the number. She gives out a smile of relief when she notices that it’s the right class, then turns towards the red-haired girl.

“Thank you-”

She stops when she notices that she’s no longer there, confusion spreading inside her mind.

“Don’t make that dumb face, Ronnie.” She tenses up when she hears Heather’s voice, the ghosts all looking towards an exit where Chloe disappeared. “You know that girl was using you.”

“Why would she use me?”

“To get information about (Y/N).” JD’s the one to speak up, his head tilted as he looks at the door. “The question is… ‘why’?”

“Who cares?” Ram starts to whine again, shaking his head with a pout. “Let’s go home already! I’m bored!”

“Me too.” Kurt gives out a sigh of disappointment. “The hot ghost is gone.”

“Are you guys really stupid enough that you did not notice anything that just happened?!”

Veronica just gives out a sigh as everyone starts to argue once again, her fingers tightening their grip on her paper.

What’s your history with that Chloe girl? Why is there a ghost child following you?

She shakes her head. No. She has no right to judge you for anything that you might have done. She’s sure that her secrets are darker than yours.

There’s no way someone like you could be horrible… right?

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You give out a loud sigh as soon as you manage to close shut the recipient you used to conceal the daemonium inside, remembering earlier the bit you’ve read in a book about sealing them away just in time. Andrew barely managed to fight it off while you were preparing the recipient, the kitchen chairs and the table now thrown aside around the room. Luckily, nothing else was thrown or broke down. All you have to do is replace everything to its place before Veronica comes back, and you also need to find a place to hide this little daemonium so that it doesn’t accidentally get freed.

“My god! What happened?”

You turn around to see Veronica standing at the entrance of the apartment, the four ghosts always following her now looking behind her shoulder with curiosity. You can’t help but hide the recipient behind your back upon seeing her, a blush of embarrassment and fear appearing on your face.

“Um… well…” You look at Andrew from the corner of your eyes, the little ghost now looking at his new roommates with pure panic. “I… um… tripped.”

“You tripped?” Veronica continues to stare at the table and the chairs all tipped over, then looks at you standing beside them without a scratch. “Really?”

“Multiple times.” You give out an awkward chuckle, one of your hands letting go of the recipient so you can point at yourself. “I’m clumsy!”

Andrew looks at you, his words coming out through his teeth. “You seriously think she’s gonna believe that?”

Judging by the weird look she’s giving you… no. No, she’s not gonna believe you.

But you have to hide the recipient before she sees it.

“Why are you not hurt?”

“You know what? My back does hurt a little…” You take a step back towards the hallway, thinking that your only option is to run to your room. “I’m gonna go lay down. Can we talk later?”

Veronica blinks a few times. “Um… sure-”

She doesn’t have time to say anything else that you’re already gone into the hallway, her confusion only increasing with each second. It doesn’t take long for her to close the entrance door a few seconds later, Kurt and Ram already giggling amongst themselves.

“Bro, you know what we should do?”

“Go watch her sleep?”

“Hell yeah! Definitely!”

Andrew gives them a hard glare, already positioning himself in front of the hallway to block them. “I don’t think so.”

“Aw, dude, not fair!”

Heather gives out a scoff, the girl already walking towards the kitchen alongside with Veronica. She kicks one of the chairs, watching her feet go through the material without any care in the world.

“Are we gonna talk about that obvious lie?”

“I’m sure she had her reasons.” Veronica simply starts to put the table at its rightful place with difficulty, giving out a sigh when she’s done. “Maybe she did trip or something.”

“Multiple times? I doubt it.” Heather rolls her eyes, then lets them on Andrew still blocking the way for Kurt and Ram. “Hey, kid! Why did she lie?”

Veronica looks around the empty with confusion, her eyes soon lightening up when she realizes that they must be talking to the kid that’s been following you. Andrew simply snaps his head towards Heater, certain darkness lingering in his eyes.

“Trust me.” He shakes his head, almost shivering at the thought of the daemonium. “You don’t want to know.”

“I do.” JD’s voice makes Kurt and Ram squeal, the two boys stepping away as soon as the killer ghost arrives in front of Andrew. “So how about you just tell me?”

Your ghost friend stares at him for a long while, thoughts running through his head faster than the light. That much JD can tell by all the emotions passing through the kid’s eyes.

“Sorry.” Andrew gives him a smirk, then slowly steps back into the hallway. “I don’t help newbies.”

It’s the last thing he says before he melts down into the floor, leaving JD with a frustrated feeling swirling inside his stomach.

Looks like he’ll have to force the information out of him.

And it’s not gonna be pleasant for anyone.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Paint it Black

gif credit: @spnwhenever​

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3103

Summary: Dean must deal with a particularly nasty demon after it possesses his girlfriend. 

Notes: Kicking off the final week of the Winchester Takeover, this imagine is based on the song ‘Paint it Black’ by the Rolling Stones. Both Dean imagines are song based this week, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

I see your red door

I want it painted black

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head. 

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him. 

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.” 

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.” 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face. 

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black.

-

24 Hours Earlier

“This is a bad idea.” Sam covered his face with his hands as you stared down his brother. 

“This is between me and Maverick, Samuel.” You smirked.  Dean just glared back at you. 

“Don’t call me that.” He growled, but even Sam could hear the playful tone in his voice. You had given him the mocking nickname when you discovered his fear of planes. That, and his inability to follow the rules. You knew that he secretly liked it. “Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart?” 

“Just shut up and drink.” With a hand signal from Sam, you started downing shot after shot of tequila. Dean was gaining speed, but you were too stubborn to let him win. You finished the last shot when he still had three to go. Letting out a victory cheer, you gave Sam a high five, wobbling slightly from the impact. 

“I had a couple beers earlier.” Dean mumbled as a begrudged excuse. You sloppily kissed his cheek. 

“Next round’s on you, champ.” 

“I think we should head in for the night.” He gave you a suggestive smile and Sam took that as his cue to leave. Your mouth opened in mock offense. 

“Dean Winchester, did you get me drunk so you could get me in bed?” You snorted when you laughed, but Dean found it incredibly attractive. 

“Something like that.” He leaned his head down to meet your lips with his for a kiss that was far too inappropriate for standing in the middle of a bar. 

“Guys, come on.” Sam groaned from the other side of the room. “We have a motel room… go use it.” The mood was quickly killed when the door to the bar flung open and a bloodied, screaming woman burst in. 

“Somebody, help me!” She stumbled towards you and Dean caught her before she could trip. “Please, it’s my son. Something’s wrong with him.”

“Where is he, ma'am?” Sam asked and she pointed out to the parking lot. 

“He-he killed my husband.” She bawled, clinging to Dean’s jacket. She looked pretty hurt. 

“I’ll stay with her, go find him.” You said, gently prying her away from him. You told the bartender to get you some bandages and something to clean the wounds with. Dean and Sam rushed out the front door and you took the woman to the back room for some privacy. 

Dean followed Sam and ducked down behind a beat up old truck for cover. There, in the middle of the lot, was a man’s body, his face all carved up and clothes drenched in blood. More importantly, the smell of sulfur lingered in the air. 

“Demon.” Dean growled. They cautiously searched the entire premises, but there was no sign of the son. “Well that’s just great.” 

“Let’s get back to Y/N and see what the woman knows.” Sam suggested. 

“That’s going to be hard.” You sighed, wiping your hands off on a rag as you walked towards them. “She’s dead.” You froze, smelling the air. “Sulfur?” The boys nodded. “Wonderful.” 

“We need to head back to the motel and sober you two up before we do anything.” Sam held his hand and Dean threw him the keys to the impala. Dean sighed. There went his plans for the rest of the night. 

“No rest for the wicked, sweetheart.” He draped an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him, hiding your bloody knife in your boot.

-

No colors anymore

I want them to turn black

Dean took a cold shower to clear his head, still foggy from the alcohol. You seemed fine, considering how much you had had. Sam was watching you with a curious eye. 

“You sure you’re doing okay?” He wondered. You gave him a small smile. 

“There was nothing I could do. She was half dead coming into that bar.” You shrugged. That’s the moment Sam knew something was up. Every death, no matter how hopeless, always ate at you for days. This wasn’t just alcohol calming you down. 

“Right.” He nodded, letting his suspicions seep into his mind. Dean came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

“So what’s the plan?” The three of you gathered around the table and you tossed the woman’s wallet in front of the brothers. 

“I grabbed this so we could figure out who she was and where her son might have headed. Her name was Jolene Arthurs. That should at least give us a place to start.” They nodded in agreement. You stood. “Okay, it’s my turn for the shower, but when I get out, let’s head over to the Arthur house and see if we can find the son.” 

You vanished into the bathroom and Sam waited for the water to run before leaning to his brother, lowering his voice to a whisper. 

“Is she acting a little weird to you?” Both pairs of eyes looked at the closed door. Dean shrugged. 

“She seemed fine to me. Hell, she’s holding up great considering she had more tequila than I did.” 

“Exactly.” 

Under the hot water, you washed the woman’s blood off of your skin, cleaning off the knife as well. It was a good thing the bar was pretty empty. She was a screamer. 

“Get out of me, you black-eyed bitch.” You tsked at your reflection. 

“Now that’s not very hospitable of you.” It was your voice, but it didn’t sound like you. With a quick blink, your eyes turned black. “You and I are going to have such fun together, Y/N. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to take Dean for a spin. I’ve always wondered what he’s like in bed and from what I can tell from all those dirty thoughts of yours,” A sick smirk spread across your face. “He’s delicious.” 

“If you touch him, I swear to God-”

“We both know the big man doesn’t care about little insignificant problems like us, so why don’t you try a different threat?” 

“I promise you, I’m going to send your ass back to hell faster than you can say Lucifer.” 

You leaned on the sink, looking deeply into the mirror. 

“Baby, if I’m going to hell, you’re coming with me.” 

A knock at the door almost made you jump. With one more quick wink to the mirror, your eyes returned to normal and opened the bathroom door, finding Dean on the other side. You gave him a bright and confident smile. 

“Did Sam figure out where the house is?” 

“Uh, yeah, we’re about to head over.” He stepped into the room and closed the door, eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Sam thinks you’ve been acting a little weird and I know that you think you could have saved that woman-”

“She was so scared, Dean.” You whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. Time to try a different method. “I… I tried, but she had lost so much blood. She begged me to save her. She begged to see her family one last time.” Your lip trembled and any suspicion Dean had immediately dispelled. He pulled you into his arms. “E-every death hurts, Dean.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He soothed, running his fingers through your hair. That’s why you were acting strange. You were trying to hold it together in front of Sam. “Tell you what,” he pulled back enough to look down at you with a small smile, “when this case is over, how about you and I go on a little vacation? Just the two of us. We could go camping in the Rockies like you said you’ve been wanting to.” 

“Really?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes. He nodded and leaned in for a kiss. 

“It’s not me, baby. That’s not me!” 

You wrapped your arms around him again and smiled into the mirror.

-

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

The day was spent looking through county records and checking the Arthur house. Nothing gave you any clue as to where Jolene’s son, Mika, might have gone. Sam was frustrated, but he made sure to keep an eye on you. Dean shrugged off your behavior as being upset about Jolene, but Sam wasn’t convinced. Something was just… off. 

You kept up your act perfectly. Dean would occasionally cast you a sympathetic smile and reminded you about the camping trip he’d promised once this was all over with. Dean Winchester was a good boyfriend. Who would have guessed? Man, this was going to be fun. 

“Stay away from him, you Pazuzu wanna-be.” 

You ignored the quip. 

“I got something!” Dean announced, coming into the room with Mrs. Arthur’s wallet. He held up a small piece of paper with an address on it. “Mica’s new apartment. So proud of him!” He read. “Hopefully our demon is holed up there.” 

“What if the demon isn’t him anymore?” Sam suggested. You shrugged. 

“Well this is our only lead, Sam. We might as well look into it.” 

Sam gave you a once over and you stared innocently back at him. Maybe he was just being paranoid. The two Winchesters went out to the car and you gritted your teeth. Sam was a problem. You’d have to take care of him if you were going to get to his big brother. Oh well. 

Arriving at the apartment building, Sam and Dean prepared themselves for an exorcism, grabbing supplies to make a devil’s trap just in case. You brought your knife. All you needed was a moment alone with Sammy boy…

Dean knocked loudly on the door and at first, there was nothing. Listening carefully, you all heard the sounds of someone scuffling inside. He was trying to get away. Dean kicked in the door and you filed inside, finding the young man trying to climb out the window. The older Winchester grabbed him the back of his jacket and yanked him back into the room. Mica cried out for help, earning a hard punch to the mouth from Dean. 

“It isn’t in me! It isn’t in me!” He cried. One of his flailing arms hit Dean in the nose and he was able to break away. He grabbed you, wrapping an arm around your throat. He smelled like pathetic fear. Being in his head was like having a conversation with a frightened frat boy. You were much more interesting. 

“Let her go.” Dean growled. Sam gripped the demon blade in his hand, but he didn’t dare make an attack. One quick movement and Mica could snap your neck. 

“I just want to get out of here, man.” Mica sniffed. “I saw what that thing did to my mom. It was in me. I don’t know how, but it was in me.” His body shook as he tried to hold you against him as a shield. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” Dean started to circle around him, slowly as to not startle him. Great. A macho showdown. Boring. 

“Ugh, this isn’t fun anymore.” You whined, whirling around and slicing your knife across Mica’s throat. The young man sputtered and choked, blood pouring down from his neck, before collapsing. 

“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam exclaimed. You smiled, closing your eyes. 

“Guess again Sammy.” Both brothers revolted, staring into the cold black that replaced your eyes. 

“You son of a-” Dean started towards you and you quickly turned your blade on yourself, plunging it deep into your side. Dean screamed. “No!” You winked at him before falling next to the boy you had slaughtered. 

-

I could not foresee this thing happening to you

When you came round again, there was a bandage on your wound, tightly bound to try and stop the blood. You were strapped down to a chair, a devil’s trap painted on the floor beneath you. 

“I didn’t take you for a bondage kind of guy.” You smirked at the scowling hunter. 

“Shut up.” He snapped. Sam searched his bag for his journal. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sammy. Y/N here is looking a little rough.” You motioned to the wound. “In fact, her little annoying voice is fading already.” 

“Stop it.” Dean’s fists clenched at his sides. The demon was right. If they exercised it now, Y/N might not make it. 

The window Mica had tried to escape from was still open, sending a cool breeze flowing through the room. 

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head. 

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him. 

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.” 

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.” 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face. 

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black. You leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss. Dean jerked away and you cackled wickedly. It didn’t sound like your laugh. Your laugh was hearty and warm. This sound was icy and cruel. 

“Do it Sam.” He said, backing out of the circle. 

“I can give her back to you Dean.” You offered slyly. “I can keep her alive and rent her out to you whenever you like. All you have to do is let me stay.” 

“Go to hell.” 

“Don’t you want to see her again? To hear her voice? She’s just dying to get her hands on you, Dean. I can hear her screaming.” 

“Sam, do it!”

“She’ll die, Dean! You’ll kill her.” 

Dean couldn’t look at you. No, it wasn’t you. It was a demon. He knew what you would want. Turning away, he gave Sam a nod. The latin words were almost drowned out by your screaming. Shrieks filled the room until the dark cloud finally shot up into the air, diving back into the fiery pit. 

Everything went silent. Sam stared at the limp body in front of him and Dean kept his back turned away. Sam suddenly put a hand on his arm. 

“Dean,” he started softly. His eyes widened. “Dean, she’s still alive!” 

Sam rushed to you as you stirred, coughing and trying to speak. Dean ran and fell to his knees beside the chair, helping his brother to undo the restraints. You slumped forward into his arms. You tried to speak, but your voice was garbled and inaudible. 

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s alright now. I’ve got you.” He hushed. Your eyes held a terror that he had never seen before as they welled with tears. “Sam and I are gonna take a look at you, okay?” You nodded weakly and they lifted up your shirt to look at the wound. You winced as Sam lifted the bandage. 

“We’ve gotta get her out of here.” He concluded. Dean slowly lifted you up in his arms, moving extra carefully so that you wouldn’t be in any more pain. 

“You’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart.” Dean promised. He looked into your Y/E/C eyes and smiled. “Everything is going to be okay.”

-

I want to see it painted, painted, 

Painted Black

They told the doctors that you were mugged. That the man who did it got away without them getting a good look. It was enough for them to not ask more questions. When they asked for next of kin, they said that they were the only family you had, which was the first true thing they said since they stepped in the hospital. 

Dean was sitting in the lobby, his leg bouncing up and down with nervous anticipation. Sam had made him stop pacing because he was getting odd looks from people. They were both bloodstained and exhausted, so people steered clear of their direction. 

“You can go back now.” The nurse announced. Both Winchester boys jumped out of their seats and nearly sprinted down the hall. 

“Now, Miss Y/L/N, you need to lay down-”

“No, you don’t understand, I have to see them.” You fought against her as she tried to urge you back into the bed. Your eyes locked with your boyfriend’s and you let out a cry of relief. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I should have known. I should have seen it in that woman before I helped her-”

“Shhhh,” Dean took you in his arms, making sure he didn’t bump your bandages. “I thought I lost you, baby.” 

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Sam sighed, giving you a small, guilty smile. 

“You did what you had to, Sam.” You assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.” 

After they got you checked out, Dean kept his promise and took you camping. It was a break that you needed. Sometimes, you could feel the darkness closing in again, that inky black that the demon had tormented you with. But Dean kept it away, like he always did.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado​

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

[itsmelaurel]

Begin Again

Summary: When your best friends move away for college, you think life is officially over. However, you find yourself making new friends including the blonde surfer from the other side of the island.

—————————————————

four.

After your first full week of school, you were drained. Thankfully it was Friday and you were ready for your last official kegger. Friday night football games start up next week which meant you could no longer attend the weekly boneyard parties. 

You felt like you deserved a fun night out with your friends especially after the disaster that was last weekend. The boys blew up your phone Sunday until you finally answered. Topper explained that they were going through rush which meant that all personal pictures were archived on their pages. Kelce said the older members would rag them even harder if they saw your picture. 

“They can be pretty rude when it comes to girls especially if it’s a girl friend or best friend.” Kelce said. 

“And the last thing I need to do is beat the fuck out of a member because they said something crude about you just to get under my skin.” Rafe explained honestly. 

“So y’all are sure you want to join a group that says offensive things about women just to get you riled up?” 

It was silent on the other end of the phone as if it was the first time they ever considered that. Not that it would change their mind. All of them were legacies and their families expected them to be members by the end of the semester. 

The whole situation made an already long week feel even longer. So when Sarah told you to come to the chateau to pregame before the kegger, you couldn't say yes fast enough. You were ready to get drunk with your friends and even more ready to see a certain blue eyed, blonde surfer again.  

The sun was starting to set by the time you got there. No one was in their usual spot outside and the house was pitch black inside. You double checked Sarah’s text to make sure you read it correctly. Yup, she definitely said meet here. 

The porch steps creaked as you made your way up to the older home. It was so dark when you opened the door that you hesitated before entering. 

“Guys?” You call out hoping they were in one of the rooms or maybe on the other porch. 

All the sudden, the lights flicker on and everyone shouts a medley of surprises. Confetti bombs are going off as your friends step out from their hiding spots. 

“I- I’m a little confused.” Your eyebrows furrow and you press your palm to your chest hoping it causes your heartbeat to slow down. It’s not your birthday and nothing spectacular happened lately. 

“It’s your gotcha day!” Pope shouts and you notice he’s holding a cake. A small, round hand made cake with light pink frosting. 

“My what?” 

“It’s your adoption day babe! Us pogues took a vote and decided it was time we officially added you to the group.” Kie explains before throwing her arms around you. Everyone crowds around as they all spout their congratulations. 

“You guys-” you begin but stop when your throat feels tight and bite down on your lip as hard as you can to prevent yourself from crying like a little baby. It doesn’t work because a few tears spill down your cheeks. 

“Fuck, that was less than three minutes.” Pope says while looking down at his watch. He, Kie and John B all pass Sarah twenty dollars each. You're about to call them out for betting on your emotions, but it’s completely forgotten when JJ wraps you up in a hug. 

“I didn’t bet on you.” He whispers against your ear while holding you tightly. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck. 

“Thanks, J.” You whisper quietly into his shirt before pulling away. “Thank you guys. This means the world to me.” 

“We love you bub!” Kie says as she flings herself at you again and the rest follow in a group hug. 

“So do I get a T-shirt or something?” You question after a moment of silence making everyone laugh. 

After eating cake and pregaming at the chateau, you find yourself sitting around the bonfire at the boneyard. The kegger is in full swing and it seems like there are more teens than usual. Sarah had convinced you to tell your mom you were staying at her house so you could both get shitfaced. She was already on the brink of black out, but you were only tipsy. 

“Let's take a picture!” She shouts, causing everyone around the fire to look at her. You put both of your cups down in the sand before leaning in for a picture. 

A hand lands on top of your head before it runs through your hair then cupping the back of your neck. You turn to see JJ standing next to you. The smile on your face was blinding as your eyes made contact. Blue to y/e/c.

He crouches down next to you on the sand “Wanna go for a walk down the beach?” 

When you nod, he reaches out a hand and helps you up off the log bench. His large hands engulf your small ones and unconsciously linking your fingers together. 

“Fuck” Sarah shouts out in frustrastion but your too wrapped up in the boy leading you away from the fire to notice. 

“What’s wrong?” John B questions as he sits next to her on the log. She’s staring down at her phone, typing furiously and bouncing her leg. A sign she is nervous as hell. 

“I accidentally sent the wrong picture.” She mumbles as she reads whatever response she just got back. 

“Fuck, I really messed up.” 

“Tell me what happened.” He grabs her face turning her towards him. Her eyes are glossy as she pushes the phone into his hands. He scrolls up a little, not sure what he’s looking for. It’s a text message with Kelce. The first picture she sent she’s looking at the camera, but y/n isn’t. Her head is turned to the side and a hand is sitting on her head. The second picture looks just like the one before except y/n is smiling brightly at someone outside the camera frame and he can tell the hand is now cupping her neck. The last picture is one of just her and y/n smiling. 

He scrolls through the messages to see what she said. 

Sarah: your fav bitches miss you

Kelce: whose hand is that

Sarah: fuck, I didn’t mean to send that picture

Sarah: this is the one I meant to send 

Kelce: that didn’t answer my question

Kelce: who is that

Sarah: shit THIS is actually the picture I meant to send 

Kelce: sarah, so help me god. answer the question

“This is so fucking bad. Y/n is going to be so pissed at me.” Sarah looks around for you, but you are nowhere in sight. 

“It’s not that bad. Who cares if someone’s hand is on her head-” John B tries but she cuts him off. 

“Rafe and Topper care.” 

“Because it’s JJ?” 

“Because they’ve both been in love with her since forever. I’m surprised they don’t jerk off together while thinking about her.” 

“Ew, I- I really didn’t need to hear that.” He scrunches up his nose and she finally cracks a smile. It’s small, but there nonetheless. 

“Sorry” she shrugs and lets out a loud sigh. “I guess they would also care that it’s JJ. You know they live for that kook versus pogue shit.”

He goes back through the pictures on her phone, zooming in on each to see if anything gives away that the hand and arm belong to JJ. He doesn’t find anything and passes the phone back off to her as it starts ringing. 

“You can’t tell that’s JJ at all.” He says as he watches her send Rafe straight to voicemail. 

“I bet her phone is blowing up- oh wait!” She picks up her purse, rifling through it before pulling out another iPhone. “She asked if she could put her phone and id in my purse.” 

“Then there’s nothing to worry about tonight. She has no idea that the picture has even been sent. Let her enjoy her last kegger and we’ll tell her tomorrow.” He pulls her into his side and she silently prays that he’s right. She can feel your phone going off in her purse and knows tomorrow is going to be rough. 

The moonlight was guiding you and JJ as you strolled down the beach. He had a tight grip on your hand as you walked in comfortable silence. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says while coming to a stop. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You wink at him. 

He pulls you into his chest, letting his head rest on yours for a few seconds before leaning back. The moonlight was the only thing lighting up both your faces as you stared into each other’s eyes. 

He leans down, letting his lips hover over yours briefly before you close the small gap between the two of you. His lips press into yours softly at first, but it doesn’t take long for his tongue to swipe your bottom lip begging for entry. You let him in, his tongue dancing with yours as your hands wrap around his neck and move up into his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepens. 

He reluctantly pulls back, attempting to catch his breath and leans his forehead against yours. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that forever.” He breathes out. 

“You kissed me the other night.” You point out. 

“I meant like really kiss you. Taste you.” The double meaning of his words isn’t lost on you. 

“So why haven’t you?” 

“Well, you had three puppy dogs following you around for a while.” You roll your eyes at him calling your best friends dogs, but then his words finally register. 

“Wait, you wanted to kiss me before we hung out?” Your teeth sink into your lip at the thought. Of course you had seen the pogues around since you were younger, but you never thought they noticed you because they hated people from your side of the island. 

He steps back a little, taking his body heat with him and rubs a hand through his hair. 

“Baby, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you win the marshmallow eating contest at the fall carnival in middle school.” He admits shyly and your jaw goes slack. 

You're not sure if it’s the fact he’s wanted to kiss you for over five years or that he remembers such an intimate detail about you, but his words have you jumping on him. His hands thankfully catch you as your lips mold to his. You pour everything into the kiss, hoping it shows him how much his words mean to you. 

How much he means to you. 

After a while, he pulls away and asks if you want to get out of here. You slide down his body as your feet meet the ground and you run like teenagers up the beach to John B's house. 

Never once does he let your hand go now that he has it. 

——

The sun is particularly bright the next morning and you find yourself rolling over to avoid it. The warm body next to you pulls you closer as you lay your head on his chest, his legs tangling with yours. 

Memories from last night play like a movie in your head. JJ peeling your clothes off, his large hands gripping your thighs when you rode him and the way he said your name when he came. Like it was a sacred prayer on his lips. 

The memories bring a blush up your neck and to your face. You're about to let your hand roam down his body, but a soft knock at the door stops you. 

“Y/n” Sarah whispers your name through the old wooden door. 

“Go away” JJ shouts half asleep, pulling you tighter against him. 

“I really need to talk to y/n” Sarah's voice sounds panicked causing you to sit up immediately, wrapping the bed sheet around your front. 

“No, don’t go. Just five more minutes.” JJs hands reach for you, but you playfully swat him away. 

“Somethings up, let me go see.” You get up and start to look for your clothes. 

“My boxers and t-shirt’s are in the top drawer.” JJ says casually, causing your blush to darken. 

After you're dressed, you step outside to see John B sitting in one of the chairs and Sarah pacing nervously. 

“What’s wrong?” Dread fills your stomach at the look on her face. 

“Maybe you should sit down.” John B suggests before throwing a head nod behind you. JJ wraps his arms around you from behind and places a tender kiss on your neck. 

“You look spooked.” He says to Sarah before sitting down on the couch, pulling you with him. 

“Remember how we took a picture by the fire last night?” Sarah questions and you nod. It’s not the brightest memory, but you do remember leaning into her side. 

“Well, I wanted to send it to Kelce. Kinda of like a we miss you but also look at us living life without you assholes. Last weekend still pisses me off.” 

“Okay…” 

“I immediately got a text back from him asking whose hand was in the picture.” She says and it only confuses you more. 

“Let me see the picture.” She hands you the phone, scrolling to where all of this starts. Your eyes widen as you scroll through the rest of the texts and pictures. 

“Shit” you mutter under your breath but JJ hears. He grabs the phone from you to see for himself. 

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” JJ tosses the phone back to Sarah and leans back against the couch. Your eyes find hers, both wide at her screwup. 

“Where’s my phone?” It dawns on you that you don’t remember having it last night. Sarah reaches into her purse and hands it to you. The home screen lets you know you have over 80 missed messages, calls and voicemails. Your heart sinks knowing what you're going to have to deal with today. 

JJ and John B both look like they want to say more, but you stand up before they can. 

“I’m going to head home to deal with this.” You say, heading back to JJs room to get your things. He follows behind you, closing the door and pulling you to him. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and breath him in. It’s comforting. 

“It’s going to be okay, ya know?” 

“I know, I just hate that I have to even deal with this.” Your voice is muffled against his skin. 

“Me too. I was really looking forward to taking my time with you this morning.” He wiggles his eyebrows and a giggle escapes your lips at his honesty. 

“But seriously, they can’t tell who it is in the picture. Just say it was a touron and be done with it.”

“You don’t want me to tell them it was you?” You question not expecting his solution especially after the other day at your house. 

“Oh, I do. Trust me. But I also don’t want you stressing over it.” He leans down letting his lips cover your ear. “I’ll still be your dirty little secret for a little while longer.” 

He tells you to not worry about changing, secretly liking the fact you were wearing his clothes. Sarah is waiting for you at the front door, deciding it’s best if she goes with you. 

JJ lays a sweet kiss on your lips before you climb into the car, making you promise you’ll call him later. 

After dropping Sarah off and convincing her you were fine, you made your way through your front door. You shout a hello to your parents before darting up to your room to shower and change out of JJs clothes. The last thing you need to be wearing when you FaceTime your overprotective friends is a guy's clothes. Especially if it’s not theirs. 

In the shower, the warm water rushing over you brings a little clarity. You’ve never been a liar, always opting for the truth even if it was painful. Plus, the anxiety that came from lying was not something you wanted to deal with. 

When you're done, you settle on the window seat and decide you should call Kelce. It rings once before he picks up. 

“Hello?” His voice is groggy and you have no doubt he was still asleep. 

“Someone must have had a rough night.” You joke.

“Y/n?” His voice is more alert and there’s rustling in the background. You can hear hushed voices before he speaks again. 

“It was a rough night. Looked like you had a pretty good night though.” His voice echoes slightly, alerting you to the fact you’ve been put on speakerphone. 

“Did you just put me on speakerphone?” 

He hesitates for a second “Uh, no. Why would I do that?” 

His obvious lie hurts. The four of you never lie to each other especially not for the sake of one of the others and especially over the smallest things. 

“Okay, do you want to facetime then?” You press seeing just how far he will take it. It’s quiet for a moment, but you can hear him mouthing something to the other boys. 

“I can’t, my phone battery is low. My phone would probably die-”

“So plug it into the charger while we talk.” 

“I have no idea where that’s at.” 

“Then call me back later when it’s just you and I’m not on speakerphone.” 

“It is just me, I’m the only one in the room.” The lie rolls off his tongue quickly this time, like he’s finally got the hang of it. 

“We don’t lie to each other, right?” It’s quiet and you think he’s going to admit to lying but he doesn’t. 

“Right.” Is all he responds with and it makes your stomach sink. You never thought you would see the day one of your best friends would outright lie to you like this. Not only lying, but doing it to benefit your other two best friends that are standing next to him.

“So, did you see our texts?” He questions no doubt being coached by dumb and dumber. 

All the resolve you had not to lie to them leaves your body and is replaced by anger. Why be honest with them when they can’t even be honest about the smallest things with you? 

“Nope, I haven’t. Sarah did fill me in on the obnoxious obsession over someone touching my hair though.” Absolute annoyance drips from every word. 

“Uh- who was it again?” His voice falters, no doubt caught off guard by your tone. 

“A touron, not that it’s any of your business.” You lie and it immediately makes your stomach hurt. 

“Did any-” he begins to question but you can’t take it anymore. 

“Look, I have to go.” Is all you say before hanging up the phone, powering it off and tossing it across the room. 

It’s silent for a moment as a heartbreaking thought hits you swiftly. 

Is this the end of our friendship? 

Author Notes: I know, I know.  I left out all the smut.  I think I will add it as an outtake at some point, but not sure when yet.  Also, if I missed your tag please let me know!

taglist: @dreamsndior @rafej-cambanks @prejudic3 @katiaw2 @sometimesicryintheshower @bibliophilewednesday  @edgymuffin @stargazingandmoon @rae131415 @httpstarkey @k-k0129 @sunshineitsfine44

[rpd-rookie]

hi ! I wanna request an angsty oneshot (with a happy ending,,) of carlos x reader. something where maybe reader suspects carlos is cheating and confronts him and it results in huge agruments or something along the lines of a fight (nothing physical ofc) but it ends up getting resolved in the end?

Author’s note: Before reading, I just want to make thing clear by saying that I have nothing against Valeveira shippers or the ship in itself. If anything, I respect it (as I respect all ships in the RE fandom) and perfectly understand why people ship Carlos and Jill so much (I’m not blind I felt the sexual tension in RE3remake). I have nothing against Jill either. To me Jill Valentine is the Goddess of Resident Evil along with Claire. It is very important for me to say all this because the last I wrote a jealousy-themed one shot that included a RE ship (that was Aeon) I incurred the wrath (and the hate) of a Aeon shipper. So, now that it has been said, enjoy the story.

Green-Eyed Monster - Carlos Oliveira x Reader

           You could feel it eyes upon you. That green-eyed monster staring at you with a mocking smile, slowly poking you towards an overwhelming anger that you know would soon lash out at your boyfriend who couldn’t seem to notice your gritted teeth and clenched jaw as he was talking about the ‘fabulous’ ‘supercop,’ Jill Valentine, for the umpteenth time.         That little monster had been your companion for days, ever since Carlos had renewed contact with his ‘old friend’. And truth to be told, it was not the kind of company that you liked most. It was permanently clenching your stomach with his claws, filling it with a disgusting nausea you didn’t know how to get rid off, and whispering terrible ideas and thoughts in your ear.   But that’s Jealousy right? That sickening fear that someone will take whom you love most away from you. That foul worry that you might not be good enough in the eyes of your loved one. That panic that someone might take your place.       But what if your place had already been taken? What if you had already been replaced?  What if Jill had already stolen Carlos from you? What if … what if all your fears had already happened?

“Is something going on between you and Jill?” You realised what you had just said a couple of seconds after saying them, as if your words had been quicker that your thoughts, as if the little green-eyed monster had taken possession of you and turned you into the mere spectator of the incoming argument. That’s not what you wanted to say. Or was it?   Carlos lost his smile as he seemed to gauge your feelings through his astonished brown eyes, wondering at the same time if he had really heard your silly question. “What did you say?” You did not reply and simply stared at him with cold blankness in your eyes, waiting for him to say something. “Are you asking me if I’m cheating on you?”           He was vexed, almost angry. You could tell it by the way his sudden gravitas was making his voice sound deeper than usual. But he was also hurt, deeply hurt. You only had to listen to the almost-unnoticeable shakiness and slowness of his words.       “Are you?” Two words. One accusation. But enough to make everything blow to smithereens.

“You can’t be serious.” His eyes widened as he put his cutlery on the table, perfectly aware that he would not finish his meal tonight.      Your accusations were enough to digest. “Honestly Carlos, I wish I was joking.” Your composure contrasted sharply with Carlos’ astonishment. He scoffed, refusing to believe you were bluntly accusing him of promiscuity. “Do you really believe I could do that to you? And with Jill?” That name made you slightly shiver and clench your fists on the table. Carlos noticed and he took great offence at your reaction. “Oh come on! We just took a couple of beers together, Y/N!”     “Yeah. Yeah, a couple of beers.” You repeated with a sarcastic smile as you stood up to clear your plate, which was a mere way to end the discussion as soon as possible. “You don’t believe me.” No indeed, you did not believe him. You believed the little monster on your shoulder laughing at you.       “How uncharacteristically perceptive of you.” As much as Carlos loved you wit and sarcasm, he hated when you were acting that way. It had a knack for getting on his nerves in spite of his incredible sweetness and patience. “Jill is a friend. We survived Raccoon City together.”       “That must forge links, I guess.” You declared as you threw your meal in the trash.           “Nothing happened and nothing’s happening.” He harrumphed, raising his tone slowly while he gestured you to stop with your nonsense already.           “But you wished it did.” That was not a question. That was a direct affirmation that was as sharp a knife and that Carlos couldn’t deny. And it stabbed all the trust you and he had placed in your couple.   “It was a long time ago.” He tried to justify himself but you wouldn’t hear what was to you pathetic excuses. “She never wanted me. Everything remained strictly platonic. And then we went on separate ways.” You nodded though you were not convinced, too focused on the little monster whispering ‘lies, lies, lies’ in your ear.         “And now she’s back and everything you can talk about is her. Jill is amazing. That supercop, you should see how she beat the shit of that Nemesis.”

Carlos sighed, getting tired of your jealousy as his legs were fidgeting under the table. He had no reason to blame himself. He was faithful. Always had been. But he sure as hell had also no reason to silently accept your false accusations. “You’re ridiculous.” He mocked. “I’m ridiculous?” You harrumphed with a forced laugh. “You should see yourself and your heart eyes every time you say her name… God, it’s making me sick.” You turned your back on him, unable to look at him in the eyes, and furiously grabbed the sponge to wash the dishes. “Okay, now you’re acting crazy.” Carlos spat and you dropped your plate in the sink, offended by his words. You were not crazy. You knew what you had seen. Your boyfriend’s smile every time he would mention Jill, that spark shining in his eyes every time he would talk about her and her heroism, and more especially him leaving in the evening to have a drink with her, all dolled up and excited, only to come back in the middle of the night, reeking of sweat and alcohol. Sweat, really?   You know they had sex, don’t you? The green-eyed monster murmured.

“Why don’t you just admit that you’re fucking her? So we can properly fight about what’s really going on.” You demanded.           “Because that’s not true!” He half-shouted. “I’m not fucking Jill. How else can I say it so that you can finally understand?” His gestures were wild and frantic and punctuating his words, showing how pissed he was. The Hispanic blood taking over certainly.           “Oh so now I’m stupid? Fantastic.” You humoured and Carlos bumped his fist against the wooden table as he stood up to assert himself.             “What is it that you don’t understand?! Goodness! You’re insufferable.” He growled but you didn’t lose your spunk and chose to stand by your opinions despite how impressive Carlos was when he was angry.       “Then maybe you should go find Jill. I’m sure her presence must be more pleasant than mine.” “You know what? Maybe I will.”

Exhausted by your childishness, Carlos exited the kitchen to go and grab his jacket by the main door of your cosy little apartment, definitely decided to leave the place and put an end to this stupid argument.   “Fine.” You screamed as you followed him. No way you would let him have the last word. “And maybe I will fuck her too so that you’ll finally blame me for something I did.” He pointed a finger at you, looking at you straight in the eye. He didn’t mean that but he was so furious right now he just wanted to hurt you as much as you were hurting him with your lack of trust and your awful accusations.       “Go ahead! Enjoy!” You waved towards the door, welcoming him to pack up and leave though you secretly wanted him to stay.     “Oh I certainly will. Cause I’m sick of sharing my bed with a insecure paranoid like you!” The rebuke hurt. You couldn’t hide it and you resisted the urge to push Carlos out of your apartment. “You know what the insecure paranoid has to say?” You shouted and Carlos slammed the door behind him. “Fuck you!” You yelled, hoping he would here that from the corridor.

You roared, fingers tangled in your hair, furious and more especially pained. But it took you quite an instant to allow your suffering to truly settle as you were still somewhat holding up to the hope that you boyfriend would change his mind and come back to you. It took you the humming of Carlos’ bike in the street slowly fading away as he probably was riding right towards Jill’s arms.

           You cried yourself to sleep that night. Curled up on the sofa with your little green-eyed monster and his new blue friend he introduced as Guilt. And Guilt was as bad as Jealousy, perhaps even more painful. Guilt was the one murmuring all the regrets and remorse he could imagine. Guilt was the one that could tear your heart off your chest and tell you that it was your fault. Guilt was an ugly son of a bitch.

Carlos only came back early in the morning, around 5 or 6 am, with dark circles under his brown eyes, dishevelled hair and an exhausted slow gait. You watched him sit in silence on the couch next to you and take a deep breath. He wanted to say something. He just didn’t know how to say it. You chose not to pressure him and remained still by his side, legs bent against your chest, puffy eyes staring at him. “I was with Jill.”       The confession twisted your stomach in a painful knot and you felt yourself unable to breathe anymore as if your lungs didn’t know how to function anymore. But this time it was not the little green-eyed monster that was causing you this suffering. That was Guilt. “ We talked a lot… about you mostly.” You listened carefully, aware there was nothing you could do, nothing you could say that would make things better now. “She’s the one who convinced me to come back. She helped try seeing things from your point of view. I understand why you got jealous. I guess if I had heard you talking about a guy the same way I was talking about Jill, I would have got jealous as well. But what I don’t get is how you could actually believe I would be able to cheat on you.” The pressure in your body slowly relaxed when you realised that Carlos did not want another argument but merely a calm explanation, something you should have had from the very beginning instead of bawling at each other.   “I don’t know. I guess I was really an insecure paranoid after all.” Carlos briefly chuckled when he spotted your faint smile.           “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I was a jerk and …” You placed a hand on his thigh to cut him short. “No. You were right. And you don’t need to apologize for anything. If anything, I’m the one who should apologize. I was the unreasonable one in this story. I let jealousy get the better of me when I should have listened to you and trusted you. I’m sorry. That won’t happen again.” You promised as you looked him in the eye and Carlos smiled so softly it made your heart melt. How much you had feared not to be able to see that smile again after what happened. “Good. I hate when we fight.” Carlos said as grabbed your hand in his and pressed his forehead against yours.         “I hate when we fight too.” You pressed your lips against his, desiring that healing kiss more than anything right now. And it did heal you. And it made the monsters go away. All was fine now.

[quaememinisse]

Daddy to The Rescue

Theme: Dad Bucky, Hurt/Comfort, Love

Author’s Note: Bucky saves his daughter from a swarm of wasps while hiking. I guess it was inspired by that little scene with that dumb bitch Karli Morgenthau. She looked like an innocent little kid at first that Bucky was about to rescue. I can’t remember all that happened in episode 3. I need to re-watch. I was far too baked. As usual, this little one shot is based on my series: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799851/chapters/6284765

Christina’s blood curdling scream causes both Bucky and Cherise’s hearts to lurch. Immediately, Bucky starts to run up ahead on the trail where Christina is visible, now flailing her little arms around as if to swat something away.

           “JAMES!” Cherise’s yell elicits a physical pain in Bucky’s chest as he glances over his shoulder, nearly snapping his neck, to see the woman trying as best she can with little Theodore in her sling, to catch up. The baby begins to cry, and once Bucky has ascertained that nothing catastrophic has happened to his wife or son, his legs never halt in propelling him towards his daughter. He reaches her long before Cherise ever would have, whether she was carrying their four-month-old or not. Hearing Christina screaming for her mother and father is the scariest noise he’s ever heard. And he had heard people take their last breath beneath the weight of his own palm. He’s close enough now to tell that Christina must have stepped in a wasp’s nest. Little red welts are already surfacing on her delicate skin, and he doesn’t hesitate to thrust himself inside the swarm, each sting unnoticeable to him. All he can hear is buzzing and his little girl screaming for dear life. He swoops her up into his arms after tearing the shirt off his back to cover her head and prevent the vicious creatures from getting into her nose and mouth.

           “JAMES—!”

           “Stay back—it’s bees!”

He can hardly see for a moment as the wasps start attacking him even more. A stream that he had noticed about five minutes prior sparkles in the campestral distance. At breakneck speed, he runs for it.

           “Hold your breath, baby,” he says frantically, pressing his panting mouth to where Christina’s ear is hidden beneath the fabric of his blue t-shirt. She’s crying, clutching him.

           “Hold your breath, Stina—when I tell you to,” he says desperately, loudly. Once in the air, just before the splash, he rips the shirt from her face and tells her again to hold her breath. Christina’s eyes are wider than Bucky has ever seen them before they’re both engulfed in a cold depth. The soldier kicks his legs like crazy, angling backwards several yards down the stream, hoping the child is keeping her breath held. He’s not under for more than ten seconds before he lifts her headfirst out of the water, breaching the surface and frantically looking about to see whether the swarm is still near them. Thankful that there’s not a wasp in sight, he can hear Christina whimpering.

           “James?! James?! Christina!”

The baby crying because Cherise is screaming is even more distressing to Bucky. He can hear Cherise not too far in the distance. He pulls Christina out of the water, eying her stings. The damage is significant and her face is starting to swell up. The greatest fear he has ever felt consumes him as the six-year-old cries uncontrollably. Cherise finally makes her way towards them, hurrying and trying not to further antagonize Theodore, who is wailing.

           “Oh my god! Oh my god! Stina!”

Cherise catches a glimpse of the child’s stings, Bucky heaving, wet, and topless, also stung in a number of places, the redness very visible against his pallor in the high noon sunlight.

           “It hurts!” Christina cries, reaching for her leg where the stings are the worst, her little hands trembling.

           “Hang on, baby—I’ve got you,” Bucky promises reassuringly, though he’s more terrified than he lets on. He glances up at Cherise, who is eying them both with panic. Bucky picks Christina up quickly, starting towards the path.

           “We gotta get to a hospital right now,” he breathes. He’s just thankful they hadn’t spent more than five minutes on the trail before this happened. Cherise nearly trips trying to keep up with Bucky. He turns around to look at her fearfully, telling her to be careful, asking her if she has any water. Cherise hands her insulated bottle to Bucky and he pours the iced water contents over the stings on Christina’s leg, all while making his way to the car. Cherise is crying, though Theo has calmed down. Christina is still crying, clutching the soldier’s metal arm.

           “Daddy,” she wails.

           “It’s gonna be okay, baby,” he insists, kissing her forehead as he scans the parking lot for their car. For a moment, his heart sinks into his chest. The keys aren’t in his pocket. But Cherise immediately unlocks the car and starts to put Theodore in his seat. Bucky finds himself thankful that Cherise had picked up his backpack when he started running towards Christina. He didn’t even notice himself dropping it. Had she not picked it up, he’d have had to run back down the trail just to retrieve the keys. He pauses to double check and make sure that Theo’s car seat is buckled in properly, Christina huddled in Cherise’s lap, clutching her mother and crying, swelling up more by the moment. Fearing that soon her throat will close, Bucky starts to drive. He had seen a sign for a hospital not far from the hiking grounds, and he floors it. He barely stops the car before Cherise rushes towards the entrance, Christina in her arms. Bucky finds himself panting as his hands tremble and he unbuckles Theodore’s seat completely instead of picking him up out of it.

“You’re okay, buddy,” he says, the baby having begun to fuss. He makes his way right after Cherise, clutching the baby’s seat, not even bothering to lock the car. He’s in soon enough to see a team of nurses rushing Christina away on a bed, Cherise following.

“You’re gonna be okay, Stina,” Cherise explains reassuringly. Bucky rushes alongside Cherise. Christina is crying for her mother, clutching her leg. The couple only makes it up to a set of doors before they’re told they have to let the doctor handle things. Bucky gently places Theo’s seat against the wall and grips Cherise’s shoulders.

“She’ll—she’ll be okay,” he says, but the way his lips quiver momentarily makes it known that he’s not sure about this. Cherise’s eyes widen as she scans Bucky up and down. Finally, the soldier can feel the pain of the stings. But they’re mild compared to the pain he feels for his daughter. Cherise’s hand is trembling as she cups his cheek and he winces. His jaw has been stung, his forehead, his neck, just about everywhere. Yet, he wasn’t swelling up and he didn’t look nearly as bad as his daughter. Before Cherise can utter another word, her gaze travels skywards a moment before she suddenly loses balance.

           “Hey—whoa,” Bucky breathes, catching Cherise before she can make contact with the linoleum. He calls for help loudly and Theo starts to cry again, startled by the noise.

           “Cherry? Cherry,” Bucky calls, holding her head in his hands. Before Bucky knows it, a nurse is directing him to let her head down gently. She starts shining a light in Cherise’s eyes and the woman is awake again.

           “Where’s my baby?” she mumbles weakly, her eyes half open.

           “Is this your child right here, ma’am?” the nurse asks calmly. Bucky begins to feel a chill. He hadn’t noticed until now that he’s wet from head to toe. He’s on his knees clutching Theo, rocking to try and get him to stop crying, and pushing his flesh hand through Cherise’s hair, calling her name. She seems disoriented.

           “Sir, you’re damp. Let me take the baby. You’re going to need some attention, too…sir? May I have your boy—?” He remains completely focused on Cherise, begging her to wake up and look at him, tapping her cheek. He feels a pair of hands begin to encircle Theo.

“Don’t touch him!” Bucky barks immediately, hardly having heard the nurse speak at all.  The nurse jumps back and Bucky closes his eyes a moment. Someone drapes a blanket over his shoulders.

           “I—I’m sorry…Please help us,” he utters.

             He can’t look away from Christina, having finally managed to step away from a doctor after they realized he wasn’t in nearly as poor shape as his daughter. In fact, he was beginning to heal. Cherise is sitting by the bedside, holding Theo, his face hidden beneath a blanket as she nurses him. She hasn’t taken her eyes off of Christina, either. The parents keep watching to see that the girl is continuing to inhale and exhale.

           “Are you okay, babe?” Bucky asks. Had he not caught Cherise when she fainted, she’d probably be concussed. She takes a deep breath that she doesn’t let go of for several seconds.

Initially, she hadn’t looked beyond her peripheral vision at Bucky and had mistaken him for a doctor, as they had put him in a set of dry ceil scrubs, seeing as he had lost his shirt and gotten soaked in the whole incident.

           ‘Today was supposed to be…so much fun.”

           “I’m just glad you’re all okay,” Bucky explains, stepping inside and staring down at Christina. Her swelling has gone down significantly and she’s sleepy under sedation. She had started to fight the doctor when she tried to address the stings and had to be kept still. Christina didn’t enjoy being poked and prodded at, and both Bucky and Cherise knew it was necessary, but they didn’t like that it had come to this. The child was screaming for mom and dad, trying to get away, it had to be done. He gently caresses the top of Christina’s head, his eyes watering.

           “I should have been paying attention,” he says angrily, more to himself than anyone else, “I should have told her to stop running ahead—”

           “It’s not your fault, James,” Cherise says genuinely.

           “I’m supposed to protect her—I should’ve goddamn seen—”

           “You did protect her. And you couldn’t have stopped this from happening, James. She’s stable now. That’s all that matters. She’s lucky you saw that stream and got to her when you did.” He sighs, his arm whirring. Cherise gazes up at him, nodding his head in the negative, his eyes closed and his fist clenching at his side.

           “We’re not going hiking again,” he says with finality, looking over at Cherise. She knew he meant this. It wasn’t something they were going to have a conversation about.

           “It’s bad enough this happened to Stina…If you had stepped into that nest with Theo—” Bucky stares hard into space a moment, furious with himself. Cherise is merely relieved. Both their children are alive and okay. It could have been worse.

           “James.”

His arm continues to whir erratically.

           “…Bucky.”

He sighs and his shoulders finally drop as she utters his name again calmingly. If he hadn’t been there, Cherise isn’t sure she’d have known what to do. Her eyes water for a few seconds as Bucky gazes at her with such apology that it touches her soul. She starts to burp Theo, having pulled her shirt back down and removed the blanket. The baby boy is completely content, unaware that his sister nearly died just an hour or so prior. He makes his way over to Cherise and kneels in front of her, holding Theo’s socked foot.

           “Are you okay?” he asks again. Cherise nods. Theo coos, and the sound eases Bucky a bit more. He kisses her knee lingeringly, smooth from under her shorts. He breathes a sigh of relief. All he wanted to do was pack them all back into the car and take them home. He finds himself thankful that he thinks so fast. He had never been stung by wasps before, but knew exactly what to do. He glances at Christina again, her stung up face rather red. His heart lurches. If he had reached the child just a few seconds later, she might have swallowed a handful of the stinging bastards and died. He’s thankful, for once, to be fast and so strong. So unnaturally strong. He might have drowned with his daughter in that stream if it weren’t for his super strength. He only hopes that she makes as speedy a recovery as he already is. Though Cherise can tell how terrified he was, he doesn’t ever say it. She knew. He wouldn’t show her that.

           Christina moans. Her hand reaches for her face. She winces, and her little nose wrinkles until her whole face contorts into pain. Bucky is at her side immediately, holding her hands away from her face. He scoops her into his arms.

           “Don’t touch the stings, baby—you gotta let them heal,” he says sweetly, caressing the top of her head and repeatedly moving her hands away from where she reaches for the injuries.

           “Shhhh,” he breathes soothingly. Christina relaxes a bit as Cherise makes her way to the door with Theo in her arms, stating that she’s going to go get the nurse. Theo’s eyes catch Bucky’s on her way out the door and for a moment, he swears the infant smiles at him. For a moment, Bucky smiles himself. Though Christina is uncomfortable, he knows she’ll be okay. He thanks himself wholeheartedly, burying his nose in her hair. She still smells the way she did when she was born. Something sweet, something reminiscent of Cherise. A few tears escape Bucky’s closed eyes.

           “You’re okay, baby.”

[parkertech]

Tattoos & Tears — CHAPTER 4

a/n: on everybody's 18th birthday, they get a tattoo of their soulmate written on their wrist. for you, it's your best friend who you thought you got over. who even has a girlfriend of his own.

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, jealousy, angst

———————————————————————

MJ was rudely awoken by the morning sun blinding her eyes. She mentally cussed it out in her head, before checking the time. She groaned at the realization that she had to get ready, and turned over patting Peter’s shoulder.

“Pete...wake up...” she whispered. It was Peter’s turn to groan, and he buried his face in his pillow, his eyes still closed. MJ giggled at how much of a couch potato he was being, before running her hand through his hair.

“It’s 7:00 Peter...come ooonn...” He only groaned even louder in protest. He could feel MJ’s body heat, and instead of it being comforting, he found it the opposite. He scooted slightly away from her, and sighed feeling the cool mattress under his skin.

“I don’t wannaaaa...the days gonna be full of boring lessons, and boring teachers, and boring people...”

“Yeah, everyone’s basically boring.” MJ replied. She jumped out of Peter’s bed, grabbing an outfit she left in his closet. “Well, besides your friends, of course.” Peter hummed and nodded in response while MJ left his room to his bathroom to take a shower.

With MJ’s last sentence, he was reminded of all his friends. MJ, Ned, Betty, Y/N...

Wait, Y/N!

He shot up from his bed, realizing he had a big priority on his hand today. All the memories of last night came back, and he mentally cursed himself all over again.

Okay, he needed a plan. That was his thing, that’s how he got MJ as his girlfriend. And that worked out. Even though he technically couldn’t check any of those things off...

Peter started making the list mentally. Okay, step one. Apologize for being a dick. Even if he wasn’t secretly sorry. It was Brad Davis for crying out loud! But that still didn’t mean he controlled you. Step two, basically be your bitch. That would soften you up a bit. Hand her the homework if she needs it, give her notes for the day, etcetera, etcetera. And if all else fails and you’re still mad at him, step 3. Leave her alone.

But what if he doesn’t want to?

No no, not about you, Peter.

If you were really mad, you would just need space to soften up. Then he’d try again. Peter took a breath, letting his plan sink in, before getting ready for the day.

MJ beat Peter to school, when she realized she was going to be late if she waited for him. As she was taking out all her textbooks and notes for her next class, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her. She turned around, only to be cornered by Peter himself, who had a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, you.” He said cheery. MJ couldn’t stop the matching smile that came across his face.

“Hey to you, too.” Peter chuckled a bit before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. MJ’s cheeks immediately flared up, and she could tell she was blushing. There was a slight fire in her that she couldn’t put out if she tried.

But Peter didn’t feel it.

He was expecting the butterflies, and the flushed cheeks, but he felt nothing. The only thing he felt was a slight discomfort, as he pulled away with a confused look. He could hear tingling, and knew it was his spider sense.

“What’s wrong?” MJ asked. Usually he would continue his affection, but apparently today was different. Peter turned to look down a hall, and his spider sense turned off once he saw you.

Except you weren’t alone.

There you were, leaning against your locker with a bright smile on your face, laughing at something Brad Davis said. He had a casual arm leaning against the locker above you, and he was slightly towering over you. Peter also took in your appearance. You were hearing a white, long sleeve scoop neckline shirt, along with a dark blue denim skirt that stopped in the middle of your thighs. You had soft, yet gentle makeup on your face, and your hair was a little more neater today.

You were dressed to impress someone.

And that someone was Brad.

Peter grit his teeth a little, before turning back to MJ.

“Nothing, just thought my spider senses sensed danger.” MJ nods with an ‘oh’ face, before turning back around and continuing rummaging through her locker. Peter took this chance to look back up at you. Brad was now smiling at you, and he could see his eyes trail up and down your body. Peter’s chest grew tight, and he felt that familiar jealousy from last night, all because he was checking you out.

Jesus, why was he being so weird?

He knew it was a problem if he could address it himself. MJ shut her locker, and grabbed his hand. Peter took the hint, and walked her to her History class, but his eyes never left the not -so-subtle flirting Brad was doing. And he could tell you enjoyed it.

But little did Peter know, he was far from right.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Peter looking at you. You knew you needed some kind of way to distract yourself. Plus, you needed to keep your lie going. You killed two birds with one stone, and pretended to be interested in Brad. You felt a little bad, honestly. Brad didn’t deserve to be lied to of such a thing, and it made you feel more guilty when you could tell he was into you.

It was easy to pretend to have the same feelings. You giggled at all his jokes, even if they weren’t that funny, maybe touched his bicep a bit, but that was it. The only thing motivating you was imagining it was Peter. You heard the bell rung, and turn to your locker grabbing one last book.

“That’s us. Do you wanna walk to class together?” See, if this were really Peter, you’d be a stuttering, blushy mess. But it isn’t, so you’re not. Brad smiles at your offer before nodding.

“Yeah, maybe we could also sit next to each other?” Brad really was too naive for his own good...you wanted to sit with Peter, but he was probably sitting in between MJ and Ned by now.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Brad waited until you locked your locker before walking down the sea of students to your class. It was silent except for his little comments, but it was a kind of peaceful silence. As promised, you and Brad took a seat in the middle next to each other.

Peter was occupied talking to Ned about his new Millennium Falcon LEGO set, until you walked in the room. With Brad. God, why is he always there?

He practically glared daggers at him, and he pulled a seat next to you. Of course, he was sitting next to you now. He only temporarily moved his eyes when the teacher came in to start the lesson. He stole occasional glances, and when the teacher assigned partners for a new project, guess who volunteered to be your partner?

“Okay, so we can continue doing this at my house?” You asked Brad. Peter growled a little. You just started talking to him and he’s already going to your house? Great.

MJ spotted his tense stance, and gently put her hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little, but nonetheless played it off.

The bell finally rung after what felt like an eternity, and MJ telling him to wait for her was the only thing stopping him from speeding away in annoyance. Him, MJ, Betty, and Ned, all sat in a table, across from each other. He expected you to sit next to them per usual, but he didn’t see any sign of you.

“Guys, do any of you see Y/N?” He asks. Betty’s eyes widen a little at the mention of your name, but she plays it off by looking around. She spots you a few tables down, and points.

“There she is.” He looked where Betty pointed. You had one of your notebooks open, writing away to it. Peter didn’t realize it, but he was admiring how your tongue poked out a little when you were very concentrated, and when you brushed your hair behind your ear because it was getting in the way. It showed more of your face, and for some reason that made his heart swell. As quick as the view was memorable, it became trashed the second Brad came into view. You looked up at him and smiled for what felt like the hundredth time that day. When Brad sat down next to you, he notice he had two trays of food, and handed one to you.

Get a load of this fucker.

Peter was full on fuming now. He could tell you were having fun with him, and it just made the anger in him rise even more. He knew the rest of the day wasn’t gonna be good if he kept seeing you two like this. Most of the lunch period was spent looking and glaring at you and Brad. Peter rarely payed any attention to his friends’ conversations, and only responded with one worded sentences. MJ noticed him being off, because she notices everything, and thought he was having a bad day. Maybe it was just this once. She decided to give him space. If something was wrong, he would tell her. She was certain of that.

“I’ll be right back.” He mumbled to his friend group. Betty and MJ eyed him, and Betty’s eyes widened when she realized he was walking to you.

Does he know? Did he somehow figure it out? Shit shit shit shit!

Peter sat across from you, which snatched your attention from Brad to him. You smiled at him while Brad just gave him a weird glance.

“Hey, Peter! What’s up?” He furrowed his eyebrows at how friendly you were being. Were you really going to act like last night didn’t happen? Or was he making it a big deal when it really wasn’t?

“Can I talk to you? In private?” He glared at Brad a bit, and it was very noticeable. You were about to call him out on it, before Brad intervened.

“It’s cool, I’ll just throw away our trash and let you guys talk, okay?” You nodded as Brad took your tray full of trash and his own, going over to the trash bin.

“So what did you wanna talk about?”

“I wanted to say sorry...for how I acted yesterday...” Peter’s aggressive demeanor was quickly turned into a shy one just by standing across from you.

“Oh, that? It’s okay, I was just in a snippy mood. Probably because of the alcohol.” It was easier to sugarcoat it instead of telling the truth. Eventually he’d wonder why you were so mad and figure it out. Peter wasn’t stupid, just not that observant.

“No, I feel like it was my fault mostly. I mean I’m the one that brought it up, even though I know I can’t control your love life, I’m sorry about that too, and I-“

“Peter I said I forgive you. It’s okay.” You stopped him mid rambling and his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. His palms suddenly became sweaty and he placed them on his thighs instead of in front of him on the table.

“Okay. Cool. Yeah.” You nodded and he awkwardly nodded back, before going back to his seat. He joined in MJ’s conversation a little unwillingly, while Betty took her chance to sit in front of you this time.

“What was he talking about?” She whispered. You shot your head up from your notes and furrowed your eyebrows.

“What?”

“He doesn’t know, right? About your tattoo.” Your eyes widened and you looked around, making sure no one heard you.

“Betty! Ssh! Don’t say it so loud! No, he doesn’t. He was just talking to me.” Betty sat there staring at you for a few seconds before asking another question.

“When are you gonna tell him?” You scoffed and shrugged before turning back to her.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I have to. The tattoo is probably wrong anyways.” Betty furrowed her eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, why are you acting like it’s not a big deal?”

“Maybe because it’s not. A flaw could’ve happened, who knows.” Betty glared at you, obviously annoyed. How did you go from having a full on panic attack to acting like it’s nothing?

“Really? So being in love with him isn’t a big deal?” You clenched your jaw, just wanting her to stop. You didn’t want to think about anything of last night, and Betty wasn’t really helping.

“I was drunk, okay?” But you meant it.

“I don’t think you would have a full on breakdown about that, even if you were drunk.”

“Betty, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? I’m hanging out with Brad, and I think I might actually be into him. I don’t want a stupid fucking tattoo to ruin that for me!” Betty was way more confused now. But she didn’t have the energy to argue. She rolled her eyes a little, putting her hands up in defense, before leaving the table and going back to Ned.

When school hours were over, Brad went over to your house as planned. MJ went over to Peter’s house as usual, except he wasn’t as enthusiastic about it. He’d rather be alone. With you.

That was all that was on his mind. You, you, you. He mentally scolded himself, constantly repeating that he had a girlfriend to focus on instead. To get his mind off of you, he decided to go through a Star Wars marathon with MJ. He ignored her protests and stayed silent, which was unlike him. He’d banter to her saying it’s overhated, but he didn’t have the energy today.

The distraction didn’t work, though. He knew literally every line, what was going to happen, yadda yadda yadda. It just made him more bored. Peter looked down at MJ spooned up beside him, her eyes closed and her breathing slow. He carefully and cautiously moved out of his place between the couch and her, and didn’t waste any time to put on his red and black spandex and jump out the window.

When Peter started patrol, it was near sundown. When he checked his phone, it was 12 in the morning. He knew MJ would be up by now, and the thought of that annoyed him. He didn’t know why, but now he kind of found the thought of hanging around MJ really negatively. It’s not her as a person, it’s hanging out with her as her boyfriend. As Peter stared at his bedroom window, his thoughts ran wild.

Did he want to break up with MJ?

Peter knew the answer but wanted to try and prove himself wrong. He knew he couldn’t. But he didn’t want to hurt MJ. Sure, breakups happen, but someone gets hurt. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody. Especially someone as good as MJ. The thought of it made his eyes water. Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes shut and groaning a little.

“Peter, is everything okay with you?” He heard his new A.I.—E.D.I.T.H. ask. He figured out a way to transfer E.D.I.T.H. to his suit, since the glasses Tony gave him were a bit too big. He never threw them out, of course. He wanted to keep some part of him, besides the suits he made for him.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, E.D.I.T.H.” He knew based off his annoyed and upset tone he was far from right.

“Your heart rate hasn’t been picking up whenever you’re around Michelle.” E.D.I.T.H. stated. Great, he was trying to doubt himself and here goes a computer who literally knows everything. “Is everything okay between you two? I don’t see you argue.” That last word made his mind flashback to yesterday. When he was on your fire escape. It made his heart clench in the worst way possible.

As if the poor boy hadn’t been thinking enough, he went deeper into his mindset. And the deeper he went, the more and more you came up. He saw your smile, how bright and happy it was. He heard your laugh echo in his head, remembering the corny science pun he told you that made him laugh too. He kept getting flashes of you looking at him, of him spending time with you at your place, and how every time you were around you made him smile. He felt that tingle in his stomach, and his hands getting clammy under his suit, and hearing his heart beat in his ear drums. All of this was obvious signs of nervousness.

Peter also thought about MJ. But her smile wasn’t that bright. Her smile didn’t make him mimic it. Her laugh didn’t have as much power as yours did. He saw their moments together, but MJ being replaced with you. He felt his heart tug painfully, instead of any nervousness, and all of a sudden the lightbulb in his head clicked.

“Peter?” E.D.I.T.H. called his name one last time. Peter’s voice cracked as he finally replied to her.

“No, E.D.I.T.H. Everything is not okay between me and MJ...”

———————————————————————

a/n: hehehe that cliffhanger

Taglist 🏷 (requests are open!)

@marvel4geeks @ladykxxx08 @chloecreatesfictions @joyleenl @witchything @pluckypete @yourneighbourhoodclown @whatareyouhidingpeter @elamvlfoy @trumpettay

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life After Snowpiercer: Finally Free

Summary- 6.2k. Matt is finally contained and you have a moment. Curtis taking control of the situation and starting to step into his role of the leader of this new group with the help of Edgar. Maybe some trauma warnings? violence. 

Chapter 8 / Masterlist 

Oh Fuck

Matt stumbled back and behind Matt the front end lifted there rifles, the audible sound of clicks sounding down the line, but Matt held up his hand to stop them, Claude rushing to his side and he spat out a mouthful of blood, smirking as it smeared across his lips and around his nose. “Enjoy that Curtis, only one your getting.” 

“Well fucker you should watch your mouth. Its your god damn sister your talking to like that.” Curtis spat out, and Matt rolled his eyes at him. Claude handed Matt a cloth, him wiping his face clear and tossing it back to Claude instead of handing it to her. Your eyes narrow at the dick move he just did. That little shit! It was hard for you to accept what your brother had become in the years hes been gone. 

“Fucking hell Curtis, you are so. FUCKING. STUPID.” Matt stressed, shaking his head. “I told Wilford you were a waste of resources when he got it in his head to make you the next Minister of the train. You still think its all about working together, family, friends, blah blah blah. I told you before you can have so much more. We all can have so much more. People had it good on the train.” He looked over his shoulder at the group supporting him. “Wanna know why? Cause they fucking listen and know whos in charge. Took care of them. Now... enough of this shit.” He looked past Curtis at the large group standing behind him, the last of the end of the train. They took the worst of it, but there was still more then the people supporting Matt. Ultimately they were survivors. 

“So heres my deal, join me or die.” Matt grinned, rolling a shoulder up in a sorry. “Those we dont kill will be banished to go out onto the snow and ice alone. So who wants to stand a chance at least?” He looked so cocky standing there that if infuriated you, after all of it, all the years of pain and guilt you felt, it all bubbled up to escape in a ear shattering scream. The sound piercing like a siren, jarring Curtis next to you in shock and Matt took a step back towards Claude. The only one who had frame of mind to take advantage of the momentairy confusion was Edgar, giving off a war cry of his own and it just surged them all forward. Curtis himself was pushed forward and loosing his hold on you. There was a clash of metal on metal, those that carried axes smashing against rifles,people screaming, guns firing. 

Curtis pushed through the people but couldnt see a sign of you, feeling himself being tackled, he swung the axe he carried behind him and felt the thud of it sinking in a body, jerking it loose, he swung the gun he did have off his shoulder, and looked to find Johanna. She had the sniper skills to use this thing that he simply didnt. Quickly looking around, he spotted her not to far away. Currently Johanna was unarmed, using some trained skills she possessed, fuck she fights like Grey, slamming her hand against the mans nose to whip his head back, covering her in blood. In another barely to be seen move, her hand slams against the windpipe and he goes down, gasping, trying to drag air through what Curtis now assumes is crushed. “Jo! Heads up!” 

Giving a toss, Johanna reached up and grabbed it, checking to see if there was ammo in it. She glanced at Curtis who pointed to the top of the train car. She gave a understanding nod and scrambled for the train, dodging people and launching herself up a ladder. Higher ground, good girl. Curtis thought as he hefted his ax and went into the mess of it, still looking for you as he repeatedly hacked at those around him. “Y/N!” He roared while pushing through, where the hell were you, Y/N? Edgar came up beside him, both men panting from the exertion, Edgar still healing from his last ax fight, and Curtis had busted ribs and a half mangled arm. “You seen Y/N?” Curtis focus at this point is locating you, and he gave a shake of his head. “No man, I thought she was with you!” 

How you got seperated from Curtis you didnt know, one moment your senses were swarming as you couldnt stay focused, the building up screaming from your lungs to dodging clashing axes and firing rifles. You scrambling to find a way out, not having any way to defend yourself when you feel a set of hands grabbing you by the collar of your coat, strands of your hair getting caught and ripping out. “Stop!” you scream as you get slammed against a chest, snarling in your ear “There you are sister dear, his prized bitch.” 

“Matt stop! fucking hell let me go” You try twisting out of his hold, but hes got you tight, Claude following along behind as he drags you with him. “Curtis! CURTIS! COME AND GET HER!” Claude has a rifle pointed right at you, snickering at the sight of you in her crosshairs. “Everybody fucking STOP!” Matt yelled right near your ear, leaving your head throbbing and your hearing buzzing. You try to twist out of his hold again, reaching behind you to try and claw at his hand in the collar of your jacket, but he gave you a whiplashing shake to stop you, kicking the back of your thighs till you went to your knees, “Come get your little cunt whore before Claude decides to get trigger happy again.” 

Curtis and Edgar were scanning the crowd when Edgar saw Matt kick you down, grabbing Curtis coat to get his attention and he whipped around to see where you were, your fighting against it, but Matts got you twisted around, yanking you back and forth, and Edgar grabs Curtis coat to keep him from lunging in someones line of fire. “Fucking let her go!” Curtis rages out. Matts voice screamed over the din, and people pulled away from each other when they saw what was going on, The casulties scattered in the pink red snow all around them, but that wasnt what Curtis was seeing. No, he saw Claude looking right down the barrel at your head. And that alone spurred Curtis into action, covering the distance with long gaited steps, the bloodied ax at his side rolling in a complete circle with a twist of his wrist to test his maneuverability to put force behind his swing, Matt smirked coldly at Curtis, thinking he had gotten the better of him. How wrong he was. 

“Better stop right there, or else I blow her pretty little head off” Matt snickered, and wavered a bit when Curtis didnt slow down. “Shit Claude!, shoot him!” The man suddenly coward, yanked you back to your bottom, dragging you backwards, making you yelp at the sudden sting. Claude swung towards Curtis, who was close enough now to see the promising smirk on his face, that cold steel blue glint of his eyes. Claudes finger started to squeeze the trigger on the man who promised her death in a single look. You started screaming, kicking your heels into the snow and twisting to wrench Matts hold loose. “Curtis! CURTISSS! You fucker, lemmego!” your words are spat out run together, and your shoulder hits your brother in the stomach, making him drop you. And all you can do is see your lover in the aim of fire, and for the second time in days you swear your going to see his head get blown apart. 

Claude never gets the chance to squeeze, a POP and shes jerked backwards into a heap, and your looking around wildly, now sobs escaping you as all your fears are dashed again, looking up, you see Johanna sit up from the top of the train, giving a thumbs up to Curtis, who nods in anowledgment, and turns towards the two of you, your trying to ungtangle yourself to a stand, and Matt is looking over at Claude, in horror. The woman stared up wide eyed, but unseeing. She was dead before she even hit the ground. Matt steps a few steps back, and then bolts as if he had somewhere to go. Curtis doesnt even care anymore, rolling his shoulder and throwing his ax after the fleeing man, your hands come to your mouth in shock, wide eyed following the way its spinning.

It does nothing more then trip him up, tangling in his legs, and he landed hard on the ice. Two tail enders had bolted after him, jerking him to a stand, and those remaining front enders set down any weapons, and backing away with hands up. Curtis rushes towards you and falls to his knees in front of your, grasping your face in his hands searching you. “God your okay, right? Y/N, tell me your okay.” Your nodding in his hold, shaking. It was all to much, so much, and his arms fold you in close so you can press your face in his chest, sobbing. “Curtis I cant, I cant keep doing this...” he knows, your eyes we're pleading for it to stop and this was what Curtis had feared, you seeing Matt after all this time. It was just like all those years ago, where you shut down on him.."hey I got you, I got you" He drew you in, whispering it in your ear. No one said a thing, all of the survivors, prisoners remained silent at the couple. Not all of them could understand what was happening, but none would dare defy Curtis in this moment. His hands rubbed you deeply and when you quieted, he lifted you away from his chest to look down, checking you over. “Just a little more, okay babygirl? I really need you with me right now.” 

Your listening, sniffling to yourself, and under his hands you started to calm from your panic attack, his voice was deep and soothing, and selfishly you didnt want it to stop, but you nodded, and he kissed your neck, his voice soft as he spoke against your ear. “Good girl, come on.” And he pulled away, holding his hand out to help you to a stand. A bit shaky, you brush the snow off your pants, and his arm is around you, till hes sure your steady. “Wait here” he rumbles out and heads over to where Claude is laying, his hand reaching to close her eyes and collecting the rifle she had aimed at him, he shouldered it. Let her stay here, the snow and ice could claim her now, his strides long and ground eating the return to you, and tucked you against his side, leading you towards the train. 

The group of remaining tail enders gathered the discarded weapons, and Edgar pulled up alongside Curtis “What do you want us to do with these people?” 

Matt was being trussed up with chains someone had found on the train, he hissed at Curtis and you, fear, anger, hatred all aimed at the two of you. "I swear it, you will pay for what you did to Clau-" a rag firmly stuffed in his mouth, cutting off his words.

Hard blue eyes stared Matt down till the man glanced away, weakly jerking his shoulders as if to try and escape. Curtis resisted the urge to kick him while he was down, having no sympathy for Matt's loss. Claude threatened you, she got lucky her death was that quick. His hold tightened slightly around you as the two of you stepped away.

Curtis looked over the group they just disarmed, most of them looked lost, and unsure of what to really do as they were herded together. Silent You watch them willingly gather together, ready to accept whatever they are told. Your hand tugs on Curtis shirt to get his attention as he to is seeing what you were. “They were only following Matt cause they needed a leader, look at them. They need help.” Your face was still red from earlier, your eyes puffy. Before we take care of them, I need to take care of you. Curtis nodded and pressed his lips against the top of your head. “We will, but not till were sure about them.” 

“Pick a car, and put someone to guard entrances and exits, and him.... “ he gestures towards Matt, whos been dragged along behind them, feeling you tense up next to his side at what his next words would be. “Secure him in one of these rooms alone, I will deal with him later. Everyone else, get them inside, settled in. Kids need to be fed, the sick need a place to recover. I will come find you in a bit.” Edgar nodded, and turned away, rallying everyone up. Curtis continued to lead you up the stairs to one of the cars, hoping it was one that had the small apartment rooms in it. 

“Curtis wait, what do you mean deal with him?” You try to get him to stop as he led you down the narrow hall with a gentle tug of your hand, Curtis wouldnt be deterred even though you tried to get him to answer you. He shoved open doors to various different rooms till he found one that seemed to fit what he wanted. Leading you inside, he loosened his hold and searched while you stood there, shaking slightly, your nerves, shot. Seeing Matt and the long hike here had exhausted you to almost breaking. 

“Just as I said Y/N, I was going to deal with him.” He stepped out of the small bathroom the room had and pulled the rifle off his shoulder and set it near the door, turning back towards you to rub your arms. “and right now, youve had enough.” He drew you to sit on the edge of the seating area and you looked up at him with a look he was familiar with. One that was ready to challenge him. 

“You cant kill him Curtis.” Your eyes narrow at him as he shakes his head at you. Seeing that shake of the head, you grab his coat to keep him from pulling away. So tired, you were just entirely drained and you couldnt bare the thought of him going to take another life, any life. Youve had enough of worrying and trying to hold everyone together, finding out some hard truths, not to mention the abuse you were still sore from. You felt like all youve done was cry and breakdown. Enough was enough. You just wanted him to stay with you, Please dont go. 

Curtis moved to a kneel in front of you and unbuttoned your coat, swift fingers taking you apart in a intimate caring way that he needed to take care of you. Letting him, cause he was trying to ease you, and it kept him busy so you could study his next answer. “Promise me Curtis.” 

“No, Y/N, I cant and you know that. If he is a danger to you, or anyone else on this fucking train, im not going to hesitate to end him.” his eyes avoided yours for a moment, until his hands drew into your coat to ease it away, looking up at you finally. He could see the tears still brimming softly and his hand lifted to use the pad of his thumb to wipe it away. “Baby, you know Im not gonna do anything unless there was a real danger, Okay, trust me.” He huffed that last part out, his thumbs sliding along your cheeks as he cupped your face to look at him, 

Giving a small nod, you had to trust him. Youve trusted him with your life all these years, and now it was Matts you trusted him with. “I do Curtis... and I know hes not okay. What happened to him?” Curtis hands moved to rest on your thighs, rubbing lightly back and forth as he listened to you, his eyes showing his own weariness. 

“Manipulation on Wilfords part... But I need you to stay here and just chill for a bit, okay?” he said and your brows furrowed at that, his hands tightening a bit on your thighs. “Your shaking, look at your hands.” You take a glance down, and without even knowing they were shaking, fists twisted in the sleeves of his jacket, white knuckled, and shaking uncontrolled. Loosening your hold, you pull them back and his hands encase yours. “Please, I will be back to check on you in a little bit. Just stay here till I make sure everything is settled.” You give a nod, it was easier to give him what he asks and Curtis gives a gentle smile, a silent thank you Babygirl. As he stands, he kisses your forehead. “I promise it wont be long” and he left you sitting there, in probably the nicest room you have seen in seventeen years, and you didnt know what to do in it besides sit there looking around. 

Curtis closed the door firmly behind him, taking a breath to steady himself. She will stay, cause I asked her to. Trusting that you would, he straightened out and strode down the train car to see others taking advantage of the rooms, exploring and shedding clothes, as it was still warm in here somehow, was that running water? A rushing sound above him made him look up, and a stretch of his good arm braced against one of the pipes running, and sure enough it hummed enough to tell him that there was running water. How in the hell? he wondered as he moved to leave that car and search out where the prisoners were taken, where Matt was placed. 

He didnt have to look far, as Edgar was talking to Johanna, who nodded at Edgars request. “Yea, that shouldnt be a problem, we can take some shifts on and off, there are others from my car who are just as sharp.” Before Curtis could even inquire, she took off, calling out a few names searching these people out. 

“What was that about?” Curtis asked and Edgar looked over his shoulder, turning towards his friend, and beckoning him to follow, well aware of what he needed to be filled in on. “People who can actually use these damn rifles. The front enders said that they are all here, but we dont know whos out there, who might be coming.” Curtis nodded, listening to Edgar, he was right, they really didnt know, not to mention the ex guards that tried shooting them all out earlier. “Where they stationed?” 

“Johanna will take care of all that, shes ex- military, and trained for this kind of shit. She was the one to actually bring it up to me first.” Edgar shrugged as he led them a few cars back and swung up. “I put the front enders in the car ahead, and Matt, well hes in this one. I figured you wouldnt want him near his group again and start some shit. So separated for now. Might be easier to bring him up to the luxury cars were gonna be staying in. Keep him under better surveillance.” 

There was a reason Edgar was Curtis right hand man in all this. The kid was smart, he was always thinking ahead, and Curtis was thanking all that was holy the kid survived. Darkening a bit remembering the circumstance, he pushed it away and gestured Edgar to bring him to Matt. There was the business of how big a threat was your brother going to be. Going back to a steel door, Edgar pushed it open, and inside was Matt along with a tail ender guarding him, bound and gagged, the man knelt in the center of the room. Curtis stepped towards him alone, The other two men holding back. Curtis didnt even bother to bring himself down to his level, his hand just fisted in the mans hair and tipped his head back. 

“Im gonna be real honest with you Matt, and only going to say this once. If I think your in any way a threat to these people, to your sister, I will slice your throat.” Matts eyes darkened and he gave a muffled response. Curtis jerked down the cloth enough so his mouth wasnt stuffed with it. “You wouldnt dare kill me, Y/N wouldnt let you. She would detest and hate you for the rest of her life.” Curtis gave a cold smile, and nodded. 

“I know, and yet I can live with her hating me if it meant you wouldnt hurt her, or any of us again. Its a life Im willing to live with.” Matts eyes looked doubtful at Curtis, but he stayed silent. “There is no situation here Matt where you win. So were going to do this my way. Lock and key, maybe in time you will get some freedoms. Maybe. Your ass has a long way to go if ever, and the only reason your still alive is because of Y/N. So better not piss her the fuck off, cause like I promised earlier, I have no problem killing you.”

“You going to end me like you did Claude? Shoot me without being able to defend myself.” He spat a bit. “You know Claude wasnt going to shoot Y/N, you think Im that heartless. Are you entirely sure that rifle wasnt loaded and just for show?” Matt smirked at Curtis in the smug way of his. “As you keep pointing out, she is my sister after all. I have some obligations to her safety after all.” 

“Claude was Wilford whore, and had Y/N in her sights. Im not fucking playing anymore of the games, yall had 17 years of it. Things are changing. You still have to prove you have any loyalties to her. So untill we decide if your even worth keeping around.” Curtis brought the rag back up to stuff it back into Matts mouth, his protests going muffled. “This is your life now.” Ripping his hand back to release the man, he fell back and Curtis turned away. Done with his shit for now. Leaving with Edgar, the door slammed shut, closing Matt in the dark once more to simply wait. 

“You think he is ever gonna come around?” Edgar asked as they left the car, Curtis feeling better knowing Matt was secure till he knew what the fuck to do with him. 

“Maybe? He was once one of us after all. Although hes spent more time in Wilfords care. Show me what else has been started.” 

The next hour Edgar showed him what they set up, people were setting themselves and family up in the luxury cars, beds, clothing. It was even found that they had things such as electricity and hot running water. “But how is this possible” Curtis asked, flicking the lights on and off in a empty room, Edgar shrugging next to him. “I have no idea, maybe someone in the front end knows how its running still now that the train has stopped.” 

“Start asking them, im not gonna look a gift like this in the mouth, but I would like to know how long it will last.” Curtis flicked off the lights again and they continued on. There was an extensive medical unit, that a few people occupied, including Sara who seemed even worst. Y/N is going to need to see to her soon, Curtis left her to her rest, the woman shaking endlessly. The kids all came tumbling down the aisle, laughing and seeming to play a game. Timmy, why he actually seemed normal once more. They half collided with Edgar and Curtis, weaving around the men. 

“Git on outta here you pains in the asses! I already told ya once this wasnt for running around in” Edgar yelled, Curtis drew away to where he saw Yona sitting near a window in one of the rooms. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asked the young woman. She broke out of her trance and smiled looking at Curtis. 

“Oh yes... just thinking. He didnt make it you know.” 

Curtis’s hand rested on her knee. “I know Yona, Im sorry. But I promise you always have a place here with us.” 

“He would have liked this, going outside. No more tail end, front end.”Tears of mourning formed in her eyes for her father, and Curtis to shared in her sorrow. The man was a pain in the ass, but he got them to the front, saved his life as well as his daughters. She turned to look at Curtis, a guarded expression on her face. “Its not over though, we have to be ready.” 

“Ready for what.?” 

“I dont know yet...” she drifted off and turned back to the window seeming to get lost in her thoughts. Edgar raised a brow at Curtis in question. Although Edgar thought she might have a few screws loose, Curtis had started to trust her instincts, to the point he took them to heart. She had been right several times, forewarning Curtis at various points. It sunk in what she was saying. “When you know more, let me know. And anything else Yona, if you need something ask for me. Okay?” She gave him a nod, and a reassuring smile, pushing against his good arm gently. “Go, she waits for you.” 

That made him smile, maybe you were feeling better. 

While Curtis was gone, you did everything you could to relax, but it just amped you up worst, tugging at your clothes as the room felt warm. Real warmth you werent used to. Piling most of your clothes in a chair, your mind just keeps going through the days events, and the one that was making you choke up, try not to cry was your baby brother. How could he be such a monster... You couldnt understand what happened, how he could ever become that. All those years of guilt bubbled in your chest, and it hurt. Fucking hurt that you werent able to protect him, and now if given the chance you were sure Matt would just kill you all. Or worst. The coldness in his eyes, glee filled when you had looked at him in fear. Whatever Wilford done, he killed the boy you knew. 

Sitting on the edge of the seating area, you drew your legs up and hid your face in your knees, waiting for Curtis to return. There was nothing else, no way to escape the thoughts swarming, there was no way to let yourself sink off into oblivion, which sounded like the greatest relief, although impossible, There was nothing more to do then wait for the next metaphorical axe to bury itself into you and your people, you lifted your head when you heard the door click to see Curtis return. 

A glance at your face showed that you hadnt truly calmed down since he left you in here, and shrugging off his coat and hat, he approached you and taking your hands, he brought you to a stand. Unfolding yourself, he waited until you were right in front of him and he wrapped his arms around you gentle to not make you pull back in fear like you have been doing and kissed your shoulder. “Theres hot water still, I want you to go take a shower, and tonight we will stay here.” 

“Hot water? How.... “ He shushed you and eased you into the bathroom. “Do as I say Baby” And he slipped the door half closed to give you privacy, and while you were undressing and testing the water, once it was full blast hot, you sunk into the stream of burning water with a sigh of relief. In the room, Curtis searched out the cupboards and found stuff of luxury they never had. Plush robes, more toiletries, some clothing, even a half full bottle of brandy that he took a swig off, and pocketed. Fuck that burned in all the best ways. He took the robe and set it on the bathroom counter, the room was full of steam, and he could see your silhouette swaying back and forth in the water. Fuck he wished he could join you, but not today. 

There was a knock on the door leading out of the room, and Curtis slipped the bathroom door shut further for your privacy before opening. It was Tam, and she had a bundle in her arms. “Whats all this Tam?” Curtis asked while stepping back to let her step inside, which she set it down, he could see food that they had packed up from there journey. She flipped open the blanket she carried it in so he could see properly. It was things like more crackers, and peanut butter. God damn peanut butter, now that was a sight for sore eyes. “I figured you were busy and needed to be fed.” 

“Thanks for this Tam, It was something I was going to go for next.” Curtis confessed and Tam smiled and patted his arm. 

“I know, figured I would save you two the hassle.” In the bathroom you cut the water and listened to the exchange before deciding it was safe to step out of the stall, on the counter you found a robe Curtis must have found, and wrapped yourself in it, waiting till you heard his “thank yous and I will come find you later” When you opened the door, he tilted his head, smiling at you. Consciously you tried to run your fingers through your hair. “Feeling a bit better?” He asked you and you nodded. Drawing you into his hold when he sat down, folding into his lap, he dragged the blanket over. 

“Look what Tam brought us... whens the last time we had something like Peanut Butter?” Your eyes widened as you picked up the plastic jar, rolling it in your hand. “Did you like it before the train?” Curtis asked as you pried off the top, a excited nod made him chuckle, and he took it from you to peel off the paper seal, and tipped it to you. “Go ahead, try some.”

“This used to be my favorite before, could eat it right off the spoon.” Your finger tip dragged through the smooth butter, and brought it to your lips, closing your eyes to savor it. Curtis wedged the jar in your lap and also pulled the sleeve of saltines over, using his teeth to split it open, and drag a cracker through the top and popped it in his mouth. It was fucking better then he remembered, and you did the same as he did. It was probably the best meal either of you shared, and before the end you two were laughing softly and feeding each other, until you shook your head. “I cant anymore... but thank you.” 

Cupping his face in your hands, you kissed him with a soft sigh passing between the two of you, soft kisses with peanut butter taste, you leaned your forehead against his for a minute. “Stay long enough till I fall asleep?” You ask when you pull back and screw on the top. You know that he wont be staying for a few nights all night until he was sure that you all were established safe. You wouldnt ask him to cause you know he would be torn between wanting to remain with you and going to be sure the rest were safe. 

“Of course, tomorrow I will find us a more suitable room. I dont think we could make this couch work, our bunk had a bit more room.” He confirms as you moved out of his lap and set the stuff Tam brought on the counter running along the opposite wall. This time you curl into his side so when you drifted off he could slip out, his hand trailing along your side while you settled in, your gaze looking out the windows the snow glowing from the incredibly bright stars overhead in the inky blackness. Letting yourself think about the day, relaxing from his touch, it was firm through the robes fabric. “How was it... your talk with Matt?”

Curtis had expected you to ask him, and he was silent a moment, not really wanting to break this first real at ease moment you two shared. But finally he spoke when you to remained silent, waiting for him. “I told him the way it was Y/N, that I cant tolerate danger to any of our people, and that until we all decide what we want to do with him, he will remain in his current predicament. Tied and gagged.” He felt you wince, but didnt protest to any of it.

“Do you think he will talk to me?” You ask next, tipping your head back to look up at Curtis. 

He swallowed and his face became guarded, it was no real secret he didnt want you going around Matt. His eyes fell down to you, and he knew he really couldnt keep you from your brother. “How about we take that one day at a time? Youve been through alot baby within these past few days.”

“Speaking of that... “ You shift enough to sit up next to him, rubbing your arm. “Curtis, there could be the very real possibility that im... “ Your hand moves to rest against your stomach. “I have no idea, and its not just me, there might be others.” Curtis jaw tensed thinking about what you were saying that your personal hell might have resulted in making a life. His hand moved over yours and he made eye contact, his words a promise. 

“Listen Y/N whatever you want to do, thats what we will do. You decide to have a baby should you be pregnant, then that will be my child to. If you decide that its not the right thing to do, we will figure that out to. They have an extensive hospital wing here, and possibly still a doctor. Im going to find out later if anyone is medically trained. As for the others, they will of course have the same choices. They are free to do what they need to.” 

You breathed out, one hand it was a relief that Curtis confirmed what you already suspected. “Even if its another mans baby?” 

“Of course, I dont care who the bastard biological father is, I cant say I would be a good dad by any means. But fuck if Im letting you do that alone. Especially since you should have never had that happen in the first place.” His face clouded, and you frowned, nudging his shoulder. “Hey! It isnt your fault, youve protected me more times then I can count in the tail end, and I made it out. We made it out. We will with this to, right?” 

You needed him to believe it, that it wasnt on him. He could lie to you about it, but not himself. He messed up, with you, Edgar, hell the train. Now they were stuck in who the fuck knows. But for now it all just simmered below the surface. “Get some sleep babygirl. We will take all this one day at a time.” 

You would have kept up the conversation till you heard the words, but it was hard to resist his request, but not to you placed a soft loving kiss on his lips, and rubbed your nose against his. “And Mr.Everett, you would make a perfectly fine Daddy, when the time comes.” He gave a doubtful grin and roll of his eyes. You can think that all you want, Curtis knew the truth. You would make a wonderful mother, regardless of all the times you claimed it wasnt for you, that the trains orphans were enough. Him though... he would just mess up any kid of his and this life, it was day to day survival. You settled down at his side, and his hand rested protectively against your hip, rubbing gently. 

When you finally drifted off, a few more regular nights, and Curtis suspected you would feel like yourself again. He eased gently away and shook out the blanket Tam brought, settling it over you. When he left, he collected the rifle he had left behind when they first settled in the room, and checked the rifle while walking down towards the exit. Just as Matt said, empty. Sighing to himself, he clicked it back together, and shrugged it off. Oh well, Claude had it coming. 

Edgar appeared at his side, and followed along once he saw Curtis. “Whats the next move?” 

“Were going to sort out our prisoner situation. First, this...” He motioned to the rifle he carried. “Lets store it away with the rest, we need to be careful with them, take inventory. See if they have some kind of bullet maker.” Curtis was thinking out loud while Edgar led him off the train and walked around small fires people built, Curtis suspected people couldnt stand the enclosed space anymore, and standing under the wide open sky, he inhaled the cold air deeply, counting his blessings. For the first time it really sunk in. 

They were free. Actually free from the tail end and Wilford. 

Tags-  @jtargaryen18 @what-is-your-plan-today @official-and-unstable-satan @p8tn0lish @stardancerluv @princess-evans-addict  @that-damn-girl @curtisbbq @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @thatweirdwalangpake @imanuglywombat @patzammit​

[drethanramslay]

Can I request 15, 29, 38 for some naughty angsty Ethan x MC please? 😍🙏🏽

Thanks for the prompt Anon 💖

You can find the prompt list here.

#15-“How do you want to do this?”

#29-“Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!”

#38-“Nothing about us is conventional”

Warning: NSFW, smut, a little bit of angst, and it's kinda long

Author's note: Tumblr is being a bitch and not letting me add the read more tag 😔🤧 so forgive me.

Taglist: @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @junggoku @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @ethanramseysgirl (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list 😊)

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Leah stared at her reflection in the mirror, contemplating what to wear.

How do you even dress up for a party at the governor's mansion? Leah racked her brain but the dilemma still continued.

Since the day she treated the first son, the governor had a soft spot for Ethan and her. Today was her birthday and she had personally invited the two of them. It was eight in the evening and she had to reach there in half an hour.

Ah fuck it. She took the white halter back dress. It was simple yet exquisite. It was pinched at her waist and flared till her mid thigh. The dress dipped till her mid back, exposing her strong back muscles. Years of swimming for the nationals did that for you.

She was just wearing her diamond teardrop earrings which her mom gave, when her phone pinged. It was a message from Ethan.

E🦒- I'm reaching in five... Be ready

Leah sighed and slipped on her heels. There was palpable tension between the two which was getting harder to deal with. She knew it was driving him mad as well.

I mean, how many cold showers would he take when he decided that enough was enough?

As she reached the lobby, she saw Ethan's car waiting on the curb. She knocked on the window and Ethan looked up, giving her a breathtaking smile.

"Hey Dr. Ramsey. You clean up good." She smiled up at him, which made Ethan's heart beat faster.

"Hey Dr. Garcia. You look great." Ethan lamely responded. 'Great' didn't even encompass how truly stunning she looked. She looked like an angel, innocent and pure. The brown eyes that twinkled with excitement and dimples in her cheek was making him go crazy.

Oh lord, why do I have to put up with a case of blue balls everytime I meet her?

The ride was short and they talked, but it was hard to ignore the sexual tension which had been building up since weeks. There were instances, when Ethan's hand almost went and rested on her caramel thighs. He clenched the steering wheel till his knuckles were white.

It wasn't any easier for Leah as well. He looked delicious. The tux fitted him like a second skin. The bowtie just gave him brownie points. The way the the streetlights casted shadows on his strong jawline made her want to trace them with her fingers.

God, please give me the strength to not jump his bones this evening.

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The party was boring. It was way too extravagant for their taste. There were champagne fountains and ice sculptures. Ethan and Leah continued to bitch about how the rich people just waste money. The amount of money that has gone in this party, could have easily helped them treat ten patients in the free clinic.

But sadly, that's the harsh and bitter truth.

Socializing can get tiresome and Leah had already downed three glasses of champagne in the last half an hour. The only thing which made the entire ordeal tolerable was warm sensation of alcohol that was slowly seeping into her veins and Ethan's heated gazes.

They were seated on a round table, facing a stage where some woman was singing opera. Leah was seated between Ethan and a CEO of a bigshot company, who was getting chatty as his glass was being refilled with the amber liquid.

They were just making polite small talk, when she felt Ethan's leg brush against her bare leg. She looked at him from the corner of the eye, but he just wore an impassive expression, casually chatting with his neighbour. Leah narrowed her eyes.

Well, two can play a game.

As she continued to talk with her neighbour, she casually kept her hand on his thigh, and squeezed.

Ethan's eyes widened. "Are you okay Dr. Ramsey?" His neighbour asked.

He coughed, "Yeah yeah. Everything is perfect."

Leah continued her journey north, pausing to squeeze every now and then. Ethan waited with bated breath, when her hand was close to his dick, but she just drew her hand away and took a sip of her wine, smirking.

Oh this minx is going to have it. Ethan thought to himself, as he narrowed his eyes slightly.

A spoon clanked to the floor. "Oops, sorry." Ethan said, as he bent down to pick it up. Leah just side eyed him and turned towards the entree placed in front of her. She was about to eat her food when she felt his hand, sliding up her smooth calf, slow and tantalizing.

He came up with his spoon and gave an embarassed smile but, his hands continued their journey up. She widened her legs, under the table cloth, giddy with anticipation.

His hand never stopped. They caressed, squeezed and rubbed her until he reached her throbbing core.

Leah bit her lip, enjoying the feeling of his deft fingers rubbing her through her panties. The friction just over stimulated her pussy and she gripped the tablecloth tightly when she felt his fingers move her panties.

"Are you excited?" The CEO asked.

Leah's eyes widened and at that instant his fingers entered her dripping cunt.

"Mmmh-huh?" Leah controlled her moan.

"Are you excited to be part of the best diagnostics team? How's your boss?"

Well my boss has his fingers deep in my cunt..

"Ohhhh. It been..uh quite an experience." Leah managed to choke out. She glared at him, hoping that Ethan would get the hint and stop. But that just fuelled his movements.

Ethan smirked at his victory.

"Um, excuse me. I'm not feeling too well." Leah took his hand out of her and headed to the nearest bathroom.

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She was about to close the door when Ethan smoothly entered in and leaned back on the door, closing it.

Leah was breathing heavily and Ethan's eyes were dark. "How do you want to do this?" Leah asked as he slowly stalked towards the basin against which she was leaning.

"I have a couple of ideas." He said in a deep husky voice which made her squeeze her thighs.

"Go on then. Enlighten me."

"First, I am going to get you out of that pretty little dress you got there. After I have got you naked-" he pressed his growing erection against her core, eliciting a breathless moan from her."-and wanton-" He pinned her hands on either side and got his lips to the shell of her ear.

"- I'll drive you wild." He whispered, biting her earlobe. Leah gave a gasp and she gushed, her need intensifying.

He grinded against her core, and Leah gave out another moan, enjoying the friction. "I will keep getting you to the edge until you can't take it anymore. You will be begging for release."

"God Ethan. Fuck me now."

He gave her a smirk and crashed his lips against her. They kissed with heated fervour, not once backing down. He turned her around and pressed her against the sink, pushing her hair to one side.

His hands rapidly untied the knot of her halter dress. Her breasts spilled out of the dress and he grabbed both of them, massaging them. Leah was trying her best to keep it low but she just couldn't. With his hands playing with her breasts and him dry humping her from the behind, it was just too much.

Ethan kissed her neck and whispered, "Be quiet, sunshine. We will get caught." He sucked on her neck, hard and let it go with a pop.

Leah could see the bright red hickey on her neck through the mirror. He had staked his claim, which just yelled one thing.

Mine.

He unbuckled his belt with lightening speed and nudged her leg with his, so that she could spread them wide. She bent down and rubbed her ass against him. He grabbed the lacy material of her panties and ripped it off clean.

That is the hottest thing I have ever see.

She was getting impatient and fidgety which only earned her a slap on her ass. She squealed and Ethan gripped her waist, tightly.

Sheathing himself with a condom, he aligned himself against her. He slid himself against her slick folds, nudging her clit which made her close her eyes with the pleasure.

"Sunshine... I want you to keep your eyes open. Look at your reflection. Look at the expression you make when I am fucking you. The expression which drives me crazy." With that he plunged into her.

She opened her eyes but it was so hard. She caught a glance of her reflection. Her eyes were a shade of dark brown, her teeth had sunk into her bottom lip and there was a thin layer of sweat accumulating on her forehead.

She looked thoroughly fucked.

Ethan kept pounding into her. The sounds of skin slapping, was borderline obscene. His hands never stayed in one place. They wandered, from her breasts, down her stomach, to her cunt, teasing and pinching, slowly pushing her towards the edge.

He hit her sweet spot, which made her gasp loudly. "Right there baby... Right there."

Ethan obliged. She was now on the brink of falling apart.

"Come for me sunshine."

And she did. Ethan's hand reached to cover her mouth, so as to muffle the scream of pleasure she gave out. They both climaxed at the same time, in perfect synchrony.

After getting down from their high, he kissed her cheek and nuzzled against her neck. "Who would have thought... We would be fucking in the Mayor's mansion?" Ethan breathed out, laughing under his breath.

Leah chuckled, enjoying the soreness in her core. "Baby, don't you know? Nothing about us is conventional.”

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[billhaderlovebot]

beep beep (5) - richie tozier.

@ceruleanrainblues @the-star-above-you @a-second-hand-sorrow @shockwavee @socially-unaccepptable-dameron

the usual sexy stuff and swearing and weed. y'all know the drill.

"i've never been... uh... good at the whole, um, serious thing. but, this is us. this is... our wedding. and i put real effort into this shit. so, get ready, fuckers, because this is a real tearjerker. um, yeah. okay..."

you honestly hadn't trusted richie to write his own vows, but neither of you had wanted them to feel... artificial. you wanted them to be your own. and now he was standing before you, holding your hands in his and tearing up already. big softie.

he had also teared up as you walked down the aisle on wobbly legs, mike on your arm.

"we were... we were owed more time, i think." richie lamented. "we should have done this years ago. i should have married you years ago."

---

richie had known, for a long time, that you were the one he would marry.

it was 1993, and the sun was setting over sleepy little derry, giving the quarry an orange-pink glow and bathing you all in its warmth.

you were all pruning up a little, and it wasn't as warm as it was when you'd come down a few hours previously, but summer was coming to an end, and you wanted to make the most of your last couple weeks of freedom with your favourite people in the world.

richie watched as you sat in the shallows, taking a hit of the sizeable joint between your fingers. you exhaled loudly, leaning your head back toward the watercolour sky.

shades of blush pink and peach and apricot illuminated your skin, the low sun setting a warm glow across the water, and oh, god, he was in love.

you laughed, loud and beautifully obnoxious, at something stan had said, passing him the joint and wiggling your legs in the water. your laugh just so happened to be the losers' favourite sound in the whole world, as it was one of those wonderfully infectious laughs you can't help but laugh along with.

richie had always tried to make you laugh in the hopes that you'd like him, but when you did laugh, he found himself falling in love.

eddie watched on in disapproval, sitting cross legged on the bank behind you.

"when you get lung cancer i will laugh and i will spit on your grave." he grumbled, but took the joint anyway when it was passed back around to him, just as enthusiastically as the rest of you. perhaps he was trying to protest in hopes that it would lessen the guilt he would feel later as he frantically sprayed himself with deodorant to get the smell out, and applied the emergency eyedrops he had bought.

ben, bev, bill and mike were in the middle of a very intense game of chicken. beverly had toppled off of mike's shoulders at least twice, but she had pushed bill back into the water more than four times, shrieking with laughter as, arms flailing, he disappeared under the surface of the lake.

"rich! c'mere." you had caught sight of him and held out your arms in his direction, making cute little grabby hand motions toward him. the look of utter joy on your face warmed him from head to toe, and he smiled as he swam over, dodging bill, who had once again been knocked into the lake by bev. ("stop being such a little bitch, billy.")

you came to meet richie halfway, leaving stan and eds to finish the joint and sinking into the water up to your neck. you immediately attached your lips to his, running both of your hands through his hair because you were stoned and everything felt better under your fingertips.

kissing him was like... a whole other plane of existence. you were joined at the lips, joined at the heart. the sun was going down and it was getting cold, and you were both shaking, and he noted the way you tasted of smoke as he kissed the life from you, the water rippling against his chin. you groaned quietly, and richie smiled into the kiss, ignoring everyone else's exasperated groans because ugh they're making out again ew look at them they're so disgustingly in love.

"you're both whores!" stan all but screamed, and you flipped him off, kissing richie all the more enthusiastically.

and richie broke away just to look at you.

the sun, now casting a deep orange-red light behind you, was almost set, and you were beautiful.

the quiet "hi, babe." that tumbled from your lips made him feel as if everything was right with the world, and, then, staring at you, drinking you in, in all your red-eyed, swollen-lipped, soft-grinning glory, like he was seeing colour for the first time, he knew that if he didn't marry you he would probably die.

---

"but now we're here."

richie cleared his throat, his eyes darting around because if he looked directly you he had no chance of keeping it together. "and i have you for the rest of my life. it took a lot for us to get here, too. god knows how we managed to plan all this. thanks, bevvy."

---

eddie was your best man.

obviously.

eddie was your best everything, to be honest, so it was an easy choice while wedding planning. eddie had been the essential third to your group of three ever since you were kids, and he meant so much to richie, and so much to you that you hadn't even had to think about it.

eddie was going to be the best man. that choice was a no-brainer.

all of the other choices, however, were not.

richie and yourself, apparently, were completely incompetent at any sort of planning whatsoever.

you tried, though, you really did.

you got out the big notebook and a pen and richie pulled up pinterest and you had some serious talks about colour schemes and flower arrangements and the like.

well, sort of.

("can we have, like, yknow, like, those worms..."

"worms?"

"like those worms on strings... yeah, those."

"the googly eyes?"

"the eyes.... yeah, and just..."

"hang them?"

"from the ceiling... yeah. "

"richie?"

"yes?"

"i think that's the best idea you've had since i met you.")

but after consuming copious amounts of alcohol, and only having made one useful decision, the two of you decided that you were not in any state to plan your fucking wedding.

("so... s-so if we get- richard, stop trying to take my clothes off- if we get the worms, do you want the pink- rich, i swear- do you want the pink ones or the blue ones...?")

turning off whatever true crime show was playing in the background, you stumbled, leaning against one another, to the bedroom.

"sex?"

"that's the plan."

but any attempt to undress each other only got half way before you were both asleep atop the bedsheets, snoring lightly, an intoxicated tangle of limbs.

the planner notebook you had been using to write down the essentials lay open and abandoned on the coffee table, the only thing in it being one line of richie's chickenscratch handwriting.

it read: set a place for stanley.

---

richie was really, properly crying now, and the only think keeping him from losing his shit was eddie's hand on his shoulder, and your thumb running across his knuckles.

everyone else was crying, too. not a dry eye in the room.

"almost losing you again... so soon after we had found each other... really put shit into perspective for me, yknow? hospitals, um, suck. and i was so pissed... because... fuck, sorry, fuck... i was, uh, pissed, because all i could think was that we were losing time again."

---

(before the sewer fight)

"kiss me." richie's quiet, shaky voice came from behind you, and you whirled around from the suitcase from which you were trying to put together an outfit more suitable for clown killing.

he took you in his arms almost immediately, bending down to kiss you, but the kiss almost scared you.

it was too tense.

there was too strong an edge to the way he held you close, kissing you as if it were the last time.

"what's wrong?" you murmured, centimetres from his lips, your breath ghosting across them.

"i... i don't know if we'll both come out of this." he admitted in hushed agony, kissing you again, slower. "i won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you." richie kissed you again and again, such raw emotion behind each soft crush of lips that he had to swallow the quiet, broken gasps that spilled from you.

"whatever happens," you breathed, running your thumbs along his cheekbones. "i love you."

"show me." he pleaded, red rimmed eyes locking onto yours with such intent that you almost fell over. "please, just-"

"we have to be quick." you said, and he nodded, pulling you into another long, searing kiss. there was a sort of burning desperation to the way his lips moved, now.

richie shifted your shorts down and slid his hands under your thighs, whispering a low "jump" in your ear. your legs wrapped around his waist, and you gasped as your back hit the wall.

"fuck, rich, hurry the fuck up." you mumbled, tilting your head so as to give him better access to the skin of your neck, to which he was already leaving marks.

"okay, baby." and then he was all but tearing off your shirt, immediately exploring the newly exposed skin with his mouth, teeth included. fuck.

"you're such a prick." you hissed.

"and you might just be the most beautiful thing ever to have existed, sweets." said richie, pushing his glasses up his nose and looking at you with dark, dilated, sex-me-up eyes.

"do something about it then." you challenged.

"anything for you, doll."

richie was pushing you so hard against the wall, that you were surprised you didn't go right through the drywall and topple into eddie's room.

you ran your tongue along his bottom lip and he groaned so fucking loud.

"i love you." you whispered the sentiment against his lips, fumbling at his belt buckle.

"i love you more."

---

richie took a moment to compose himself, allowing you to do the same. your eyes drifted about the room. the absence of both yours and richie's families bothered neither of you.

at the front row, the losers and stanley's empty chair, reminded you that they were the only family you'd ever need.

---

"you fucking what?"

"it was an accident!" richie held his hands up in defense, slumping down next to you on the couch.

"richie, do you ever imagine what it would be like if you'd have gotten enough fucking oxygen at birth?" you snapped, raking your hands across your scalp.

"watch it, or no sex." he said.

"i will never have sex with you ever as long as i live unless you uninvite my mother right the fuck now."

"i couldn't say no!" richie was now flapping his hands about in frustration, looking a little like a cartoon character. "she called me up yelling about the divorce and then i told her about the wedding--"

"my life would be so much easier if your dad had just pulled out." you deadpanned.

"--and i didn't know how to tell her she couldn't come--

"we have to change the venue. she's not coming."

"but that's the beach grease was filmed on, babe, there's no way i--"

"richie, if you don't change the venue, i will fucking castrate you in your fucking sleep."

---

it was raining that day, anyway, so a beach wedding wouldn't have been possible. it was okay, though. richie quite liked the little chapel you had picked out, and the coloured light that filtered through the stained glass windows danced across your skin in a way that reminded him so much of quarry sunsets. it was perfect, really.

"we could have had... so much more, yknow? a normal life. but, instead, we grew up in fucking derry... like idiots from some dumb horror book." you laughed at that. so did the losers. you were the only ones who knew what it really meant. "i promise... i'm going to, um, spend every moment of the rest of my life, the rest of however long we have, showing you how much i love you. and i do... love you, that is. every moment of the rest of fucking time, baby, because god knows we've lost enough."

and you kissed him before the priest even said the words, knocking him backwards into eddie.

your first dance was unconventional.

of course.

richie was nervous. he had practiced this dance so many times, with beverly, with eddie, with fucking bill. (that particular endeavour had been a tough nut to crack.) and you pretended you didn't know, for his sake, because he had tried so hard.

his hands shook as he positioned them on your waist where beverly had taught him.

"i can't dance, babe." he snorted.

"i know you can't." you giggled, kissing his cheek.

you held him close to you, blinking back tears as the first chords of billy joel's vienna drifted quietly from the speakers in the corner.

richie lay his head on your shoulder, murmuring the words softly in your ear and pressing light kisses to the soft skin under it.

about halfway through the song, you realised you didn't actually know how to dance either, which was a relief to him. whatever you ended up doing had to have been acceptable, because, once again, everyone was sobbing.

bev cried, mike cried, ben cried, bill cried. eddie shoved almost his entire hand into his mouth to stifle his tears, because there was no way in fuck richie was seeing him cry.

richie would sooner find himself down in the sewers again than admit it, but he could carry a damn tune.

when the song faded to its soft end, the two of you didn't move for several more seconds, eyes gently closed, foreheads together. (admittedly, richie was quite a bit taller than you, and to lean down a fraction.) it seemed almost wrong to open your eyes and join the rest of the world, but the losers' over-enthusistic applause and cheering pulled you both from the trance as they drowned out everyone else.

"you're beautiful." richie whispered, and your eyes snapped open. you had a feeling he wasn't just talking about your dress. eddie, of all people, had helped you pick it out, following you around the wedding dress outlet centres, hissing profanity at the disheveled women who got in his way and muttering furiously about how he'd sterilise the fuck out of whatever you chose to buy.

"you're beautiful." you sniffed, wiping your watery eyes and pulling him down to kiss you softly.

"why are you two like that?" eddie whined when you sat down at the table you'd put them all on. he was only half joking.

"it is their wedding day, eds." bev shrugged, remembering how gross her and ben had been at their own wedding a few months previously.

"what can i say?" you arranged the skirt of your dress comfortably around you before slinging your legs over richie's. "richie's a whore."

the rest of the party was... eventful.

most notably, the losers club's exclusive, very enthusiastic (and frankly quite dangerous) group dance to uptown girl in which your shoe ended up across the room in the wine cooler on the table you dubbed "friends from work" and bill and mike accidentally threw eddie half way across the room at the final chorus.

there was also the matter of richie and yourself insisting on recreating the "come on eileen" dance from the perks of being a wallflower, but then not remembering any of the moves. losers club exclusive group dance part 2 ensued.

eddie's best man speech was a wreck, mainly because he was absolutely bladdered.

("trash-mouth... trash-mouth fuckin tozier got the girl. nobody thought it would ever happen, i mean ever-")

---

(6 months after the wedding.)

"are we gonna pretend we have kids?" you pondered, crumpling the empty juice pouch in your hands and tossing it onto the steady-growing pile in the corner of the living room. "or are we just going to have to own up to the fact we drank twelve boxes of capri suns between us this week?"

a quiet slurping noise came from beside you as richie drained his own capri-sun, throwing it onto the pile with a flourish of his arms.

"i think that they've come to expect this of us." he said, shifting your legs out of his lap and standing up to answer the door.

"alright!" you heard him call down the hallway, as who you assumed was bev began pounding the doorbell aggressively.

and then the door swung open, and you heard a chorus of cheerful greetings and borderline yelling. ah, your best friends.

the losers came over to the tozier residence almost weekly for drunken antics and the spilling of long overdue tea.

"MRS TOZIER!" mike hollered jovially, bill in tow. they'd been seeing more of each other recently. none of you were able to miss how mike looked at bill when bill wasn't looking. it was how beverly and ben looked at one another, and how you looked at richie every morning you woke up to his face, and all throughout the day when he wasn't looking, and even when he was looking.

"MIKEY!" you yelled back with equally as much gusto, stretching your arms out for a hug, which he gladly returned.

"novelty not wore off, yet?" mike asked, gratefully taking the capri sun you offered to him as he settled next to you on the couch. "you've been married long enough, realised you don't love him yet?"

"oh yeah, no, this is purely a marriage of convenience. he's not that ugly, and i get laid like every day, and all i have to do is pick up his socks and share a bed with him."

richie wasn't impressed, storming back into the room in front of bev, ben and eddie.

"hey, um, ok, well, i actually am having a passionate affair with ben, and, ben's fucking hung. so, there."

richie slumped on the other side of you, grabbing you and blowing a raspberry on the side of your neck.

"seriously, bitch?" you whined, but you wrapped your arms around him all the same.

eddie bustled over to the towering pile of capri-sun packets, a plastic refuse bag in hand that you assumed he'd just pulled from his fanny pack.

"you guys are disgusting." he shoved the packets into the bag with unnecessary force. "you fucking deserve each other."

"tell them why we got kicked out of the drive-in theatre last week, rich." you smirked, leaning into your husband's side. he cleared his throat.

"i, uh..."

"tell them." you pressed.

"we saw titanic-" richie started, quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.

"oh, god." eddie groaned, storming out of the room in search of a recycling bin.

"-and i, uh... was yelling diving scores as they, uh, jumped off the boat."

"for fucks sake, richie." ben sighed. beverly was borderline cackling. mike and bill just looked disappointed.

"it's not my fault!" richie whined. "my beautiful wife was the one who insisted we recreate the sex scenes as they happened. hand on the window and everything."

"the toziers, everyone." eddie came back into the room, sitting on the ground on a beanbag near the coffee table. "you two should never have been allowed near each other."

"ah, but we were." you chimed in. grabbing richie's face and kissing him obnoxiously. "what say we get piss-drunk and, like, play dumb drinking games. for old times sake?" you suggested when you tore yourself from him, your lips separating with a wet pop. "it's been a while."

---

1993

"what's up, fuckers." you threw up a casual peace sign as you descended into bill's smoke-shrouded basement, stumbling slightly down the stairs and sitting between richie and stanley in the circle that the losers had formed.

richie immediately attached his lips to your neck, pulling you into his side.

"hello to you too, trash-mouth." you grinned. richie looked fucking good.

he'd only gone and got his septum pierced the day before, and you were wary at first, but the little silver horseshoe ring that hung between his nostrils now looked amazing, glinting in the low basement lights. richie wore a deep red, oversized, cable-knit sweater that you could have sworn was yours but you'd smoked a huge joint on the way here and weren't too sure. a black beanie sat on his head, a few errant curls poking out by his forehead and around his ears.

"you're hot." you mumbled.

"you're hot." he grinned against your neck, and lifted his head to kiss your lips, his glasses bumping against your nose.

"yo, whores, truth or dare." beverly said, throwing back about half of the bottle in her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"i fucking hate this game." richie hissed, leaning against your shoulder, sulking.

"truth." you said.

"what's richie's biggest kink?" she leaned forward in the circle, her tongue poking out from between her teeth.

"beverly!" richie was not amused.

"he's really into hair pulling." you sniffed, taking a blunt from between stan's fingers.

"babe!" richie exclaimed. you exhaled in his face.

"is he loud?" bev asked, leaning to take the joint from you.

"BEVERLY!" richie was shouting, now, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"oh, yes. he is." you nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"FUCK!"

"a bit like that, actually."

"this is actual abuse." richie put his head in his hands, edging away from you.

"i love you." you tried, tugging on his sweater and leaning against him.

he had crawled into stanley's lap at this point, curling up like a baby.

"i fucking hate truth or dare." richie sat up and reached for another bottle, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

---

most of the losers were asleep, curled up in various, not so comfortable looking positions on your couch and beanbags and weird hanging egg chair thingy that you'd insisted on buying.

"where did you come from, babe?" richie sighed, snaking his arms around your waist from behind as you brushed your teeth. "you're fuckin'... perfect."

one thing richie had always remembered, if a little vaguely, was your smell. the smell of sleep and fabric softener and your shampoo. his memory hadn't done it justice, he decided. when he took you in his arms in the chinese restaurant and inhaled deeply as if it were his last breath, filling his lungs with the smell of you and trying to sear into his brain the memory of how you felt inside his arms. because he would forget again, surely.

he hated himself for forgetting you.

"we're married, rich." you pointed out, rinsing your toothbrush and dropping it into the holder. "you're not too bad, yourself."

"i mean it, though." he muttered, pressing the softest of kisses to your jaw. "you're so fuckin'... doll, i, fuck-"

"don't go all shy on me, babe." you teased. "come to bed, yeah? im cold."

he watched as you shuffled off to your shared bedroom, doing that thing you always did when you stretched, making an unnecessary amount of noise. he smiled. that's my baby.

"hey, rich." another voice came from behind him. at the door of the bathroom, small and tentative.

"oh, hey, eds." richie smiled, taking his own toothbrush from the one next to yours, continuing the conversation through the mirror. but there was a somewhat uncomfortable silence in the small room, made worse by the hollow rattling of the toothbrushes.

"i, uh..." eddie shifted his weight, leaning against the doorframe. "i, uh... gotta tell you something, rich."

"knock yourself out, eddie spaghetti."

"im getting a divorce."

"oh, yeah? good, she was a fucking-"

"im with someone. a guy."

"a guy?"

"yeah. his name is, uh, richie, as it happens. well, richard, but, yknow."

"eds-"

"i loved you." eddie blurted. quiet. barely there. "for, uh... so long."

"you-"

"when we were kids. and, and i... you were never out of my head. not for one fucking second. and my mom... god, my fucking mom, she knew. i think she knew. every time you came round she made sure to scrub me a little harder. the soap burned. fuckin, i don't even know, some carbolic shit, or something. but... it was always her, wasn't it? you and her, um, you loved her and you continued to love her for... for fucking ever. and i wanted it to be me, rich."

richie was almost choking on his heart.

"eds, you know i-"

"no, actually, i don't."

"well i-"

"im not... bitter. if that's what you think. because i think the world of her. she's... my best friend, i would do anything for her, rich. and it wouldn't have made sense for you to end up with anyone else.

and im not... pining anymore? this was uh, what i needed. and im with someone, and he loves me, and i love him. so much, i do. and i love... you... and her... "

"eddie, i loved you too, yknow."  richie muttered. the words hung in the air between them like the sword of fuckin' damocles.

"you did?"

"yeah. course i did."

"well, fuck."

"yeah. fuck."

"can i-" eddie held out his arms.

"yeah.",

richie was so used to hugging smaller people that it was natural to rest his chin on eddie's head, enveloping him almost completely. he noted how eddie gripped his shirt a little tighter than was probably necessary.

"you gotta let me meet this guy, yeah?" said richie, muffled against eddie's hair. "you're, like, small and shit. so i gotta make sure he won't break you or something."

"okay, rich." eddie laughed quietly.

when they broke apart, something had changed. there was closure. eddie could go back to his loving boyfriend and richie could go back to his wonderful wife and it was okay. all of it was okay.

it was okay.

---

"g'morning, doll." you had woken up to richie going to town between your legs. which was, um, always a good time.

after he had finished, wiping his lips, wiping you from his lips, he mumbled the term of endearment lowly into your ear, kissing the spot just underneath it, and you almost grabbed his head and pushed him back down there. however, it was cold, and he was warm, so you melted against him, pulling his arm over you.

"hey, baby." you weren't sure if the words had come from you, because you were floating. and half asleep. but they must have done, because richie kissed the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him, if that was possible. "what time is it." you continued, yawning.

"uhh, like, nine." he yawned back.

"ew."

"i know."

"why did you- and not that i'm complaining, because that was great- why did you wake me up, you fucking insane person."

"because they all left, and woke me to tell me they were leaving, and then i was awake, and you weren't, and i was bored, and i wanted to wake you nicely."

"mission fucking accomplished." you sighed, a sleepy grin spreading across your face. "but can we go back to sleep, now?"

"yeah."

"love you, stinky." you mumbled.

"love you more."

[merci-bitch]

Riza’s Girl

Riza Stavros x Fem!Reader

Genre: drama, fluff

Words: 3k

Warning(s): swearing, fighting, Seduction

A/N: First, I wanna thank @kileyrose-2003​ for helping me so much with this. I love you and adore you. So much. This doesn’t mean I’m back, I just wanted to do this real quick. This is also for @witching-imagines​ . My request are closed but I wanted to give this to you as a thank you for writing that Kathleen fic for me! Thank you again love! Again, this doesn’t mean I’m back. Cause I’m not. I’m feeling a lot worse, and my mental health is complete shit but I wanted to do this. And I wanna thank all of you who told me to shit in what other say, it means so much. Y’all are so kind to me and I honestly don’t deserve it. Thank you, stay inside and be safe. Xx

"Oh, hello!" I stiffened up at the sound of Riza's voice and slowly turned around. Trying to put on a brave facade despite the fear that was radiating through me.

'A woman?' Riza thought, throwing off her floral shawl to the ground. "How fucking fitting" I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "W-what do you mean?" Riza smiled at the nervousness that was show in your tone and eyed you up and down. Taking notice of how your black pants tightly hugged your hips and how the necklace you wore laid daintily on your collar bones. Riza thoughts were saying how you were the most beautiful creature she had ever laid her eyes on.

"Here I thought H worked alone...but my, was I wrong." She ran a hand through my hair, standing close enough she could breathe in the scent of your sweet smelling perfume. For the first time in a while, Riza found herself confused. She thought she'd be jealous of you but instead she found herself jealous of H. If your perfume smelled sweet she could only wonder how lovely your hair would smell and how sweet your lips would taste.

"You're quite the precious thing aren't you? Poor you." Riza's smile glinted on gleeful malice. "It's uh...been a steep learning curve" Riza chuckled and looked me deeply in the eyes. "I'm sure it has."

Riza pulled a gun and I felt myself automatically tense up. "Oh this, this is Snapnose Crossing Annihilator. Do you know what this does to pretty human flesh like yours?" I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling completely terrified. She was standing so close to me that I could feel her breath on my neck. "It boils you from the inside out"

"C-cute." There was a pause for a moment. "You're adorable, you know that right? Seriously, how the hell did H end up with you." Her eyes were watching your every move, from each breath to each blink of your eyes. Making sure she knew everything that was going on here and now. However, Riza saw the raw fear inside your eyes. The absolute terror and how your petite human body was shaking. Despite not wanting to admit it, she saw herself recognized in you. The fear.

~ "...I told you Riza! I told you those guns needed to be shipped out and put on the next ship in less then 13:00 hours!" The young woman's eyes rolled into the back of her head in frustration and tensed. "And I told you that I can't run dealing on a crew that isn't running on it's full capacity of workers. So stop bitching me? She snapped at her boss.

That much larger and broader man grabbed her shoulder, forcing her close to him. "And who the hell told you you're allowed to talk to me like that? Mind your place! You're lucky I don't blast you to the next planet."

She faked a smile and wrapped her arms around him. "So much talk for someone who takes no action. What did I tell you when I started this job?"

She could see he was melting into every part of her touch as she found a smile hinting on the corners of her lips. "You...you could handle this"

"Exactly. So let me handle what I need to handle and then you can have your share" Riza could see his eyes traveling her beautiful body and she found herself swelling with hatred. "For my sakes and yours I hope so."

He pulled away from her and Riza watched as he walked away and looked at the dark and musty place. "Some day...some day, I won't allow myself to endure such places of filth as this." ~

Riza lowered her gun and dropped it to the floor, making me jump. Her dark and cold eyes turned warm and soft. Surprising me. She started walking even closer to me, as if she wasn't already close enough. Ending up with backing me up against the cold, brick wall of her office. Such fear was written in your eyes, like a little kid after it's first nightmare. Like a kid who'd just fallen of it's bike, with a bloody knee. Or like a teenage girl who's boyfriend just broke up with her. Silent tears were making their way down my cheeks, refusing to meet Riza's eyes.

The girl in front of her was maddening and Riza never wanted anyone like this before. She wanted her more then she'd ever wanted H. She watched the way you winched as her thumb gently caressed your cheek and shushed you. "Such a pretty face. Tears don't deserve to grace them. Not yet at least, and in a different setting" Riza couldn't hold back the smirk that formed itself on her lips. She pulled the younger girls chin up, making her meet her own eyes.

Riza was taller then me, which didn't help with the feeling of being so small and the feeling of barely existing. I looked behind her, seeing the gun she had thrown to the ground and then back up to her. Her eyes were studying my face. Tracing her finger gently alongside my jawline, making me pull away slightly. "Such eyes. Such pretty little eyes." Riza took her bottom lip in between her teeth.

I took my chance and pushed Riza's shoulder back and ran towards where her gun was laying on the floor. Picking it up and holding it against her. Riza's eyes showed some sort of surprised expression. Soon enough her crackle filled the air, holding her one hand to her chest while slapping her thigh with the other. "Do you really think that would scare me? Do you even know how to use it?" I looked back and forth between her and the weapon. She was right, I didn't really know how to use it. Where was H when you needed him?! I looked behind me to see no one. "Oh no sweetie. He won't come anytime soon, but you will"

I felt the gun being taken out of my hands, and that hand pulling me close. Forcing me so close to her, I could feel her breath on me. My face leveled with her chest. Closing my eyes, praying to the gods above to let H come and save me.

Cause as a person "W-why are you like this?" Riza's lips formed into a small smirk. "Like what?" Her tone so mocking, I just wanted to slap her. "Why are you such a bitch? What did someone do to you that made you so..bitchy?" Riza laughed. "Aww sweetie. Isn't it funny how when we describe a man they are firm but when a woman is firm she is a bitch?"

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore her words. Opening them as I felt her hand stroke it's way up and down my cheek. Moving her fingers alongside my jawline, pulling my chin up. Making me look her in the eyes. Those cold, blue eyes. My eyes traveled down to her neck, the necklace she was wearing was very interesting.

"You like that necklace? I got it from a very prominent designer as a thank you for taking care of an issue he had with one of his daughters courtiers. If you were with me, you'd have a dozen of them. Anything you want, at your finger tips"

Riza said as she raised her head slowly, looking down at me. "You're so pretty. You know that right?" Riza rubbed her hands up and down my sides, squeezing my hips. "From your head all the way to your toes" Her hands lingered down to my thigh. Giving it a harsh squeeze. "I'd hate to think of the prospect of someone else touching what belongs to me.." Her voice faded to a low growl.

"Stop it!" I grunted. "Stop what." She squeezed my thigh again. "That!" Riza let out a laugh caressed my cheek. "Oh honey, I'll never stop!" I could see how much she was enjoying this and I hated it so much. "Fuck you!"

"Oh yes, I shall." I rolled my eyes at her comment. 'What an asshole' was running through my mind. "It's not so bad being with me. Ask H. I'm sure he'd agree" Riza said as she crossed her arms.

"You leave him out of this!"

"Oh honey, he's the reason you're in this in the first place."

I felt my eyes go wide, and saw how her smirk only grew. “Seriously gorgeous, where have you been all my life.” Riza trapped my against the wall, eyeing me like a piece of meat. “You’re such a pretty thing for dealing with a grueling life in the agency.”

“I-I like where I am,” I couldn’t help but stutter, trying to escape her but she really had me cornered. “Do you really though? Really, H doesn’t deserve you. I can make you happy. Happier then you could ever imagine.” She nipped the cartilage on my ear and I couldn’t help but wince. Soon enough I felt her wet tongue run it’s way up my ear, making me shiver in disgust.

“I’m happy though” I tried to push her away but Riza pushed me even further into the wall. “But you’re not.” She held my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her on almost a painful angle. “You love him..don’t you? Oh you poor thing. He’s nothing special sweetheart.”

“But you are?” Her smile was a mix of cynicism and lust. “Oh yes...in more ways then one.” Her eyes were looking into mine, she was clearly hopeful. But there was something in her tone that seemed promising. “I-I’m not sure Riza. How can I know that you’re speaking the truth?” She clicked her tongue and pouted. “Because darling, I always speak the truth.” She leant in and kissed my cheek and for the first time, I didn’t pull away. This particular thing made her dig her nails further into my hips, pulling me closer, as she started almost feeding on my jawline, leaving kisses and bites here and there. I felt my eyes falling shut and Riza’s laugh of approval.

“What the hell is this?!”

I heard Riza let out a groan of annoyance. “Oh, what the hell?” Riza grabbed my wrist tightly, sinking her nails deeply into my skin so that I couldn’t escape her. Leaving red marks that anyone could know would turn into bruises. “Back off sweetie. She’s mine now.” The growl in her voice was unavoidable as she pulled her annihilator out with her other arm, pointing it straight at H. “Riza! Please!” She shushed me and glared at H. “You let her go Riza, she’s mine”

“Yours? Oh honey. I’m afraid you didn’t get to her in time. She’s mine now. Aren’t you, Y/N?” I continued to try to get away from Riza, trying to block her other hand that was trying to cup my face.

“This doesn’t involve her. This is between the two of us. You’re manipulating her! Just give the damn crystal and I’ll go” H said with his tone clearly filled with annoyance.

“You can go but she’s not going anywhere. Tell him who you belong to, my sweet” I glanced over at H, giving him pleading and sorry eyes before looking down onto the floor. “Well, you’ve left me no other choice then.” Before I even had the chance to process his words and what he had to say, bullets came flying my way. I let out a scream, dropping to the ground. “Oh damn, you!” Riza screamed. Whether she was hurt or not I couldn’t tell but I was definitely terrified. “Go, Y/N. Now!”

“Like hell she is!” Riza picked up a vase, throwing it straight in your direction. The antique glass made direct impact with the back of your head and you felt as if your head was about to explode. “Oww! Oww! Oww!” You screeched.

“You bitch! This is the final straw!”

“We’ll see about that.”

***

I didn’t know long I had been out but when I woke I felt soft hands running through my hair. Irritating my thudding head. “Well hi there, sunshine! You’ve been out for quite a while.”

Riza. “Where..where’s H?”

“Oh that doesn’t matter for now. What matters is I have you, darling girl.” Her smile was bright and amorous and I wanted to smack it off her face. “I don’t find you amusing right now. My head is killing me” I said as I grabbed my head. Closing my eyes for a short moment.

“Hm. You might be saying that now but you won’t be saying it in a little while.” She maneuvered her body so she was sitting on top of me. She leant down and let her lips touch mine. “R-Riza..”

“Yes, my darling?” Her voice was low and husky p. “Stop..it” I grunted while trying to push her off down by her thighs, which only made her let out a low moan, mixed with a chuckle. I wanted nothing to do with Riza. Not until I knew what has happened to H. I didn’t care what happened, just needed to know he was alright.

“Again darling, he doesn’t matter for the moment. What matters now is me and you..You find me attractive, don’t you darling?” Riza said as she leant down again, her nose brushing against mine and her hair tickling my face. Making me squint my nose.

“I’m not speaking to you.” I said as I closed my eyes. Refusing to meet her blue ones.

“So mature. So fiery! I love it.”

Of course she did. But in a way, she seemed desperate. Desperate to get in my pants. What did she think would happen? That she would tame me? I think not. “That’s it!” I shoved Riza off of me and got up from the bed, shuddering, running a hand through my hair. “I’m leaving!” Where the hell were my shoes?! I started looking around the room for my shoes. “Leaving? You want to run away?” Riza teased, letting out a slight chuckle.

“What? Is this all some sort of joke to you?” There was was a brief pause on Riza’s part and your face turned red. “Is it?!”

For a moment I could have sworn I saw confusion in her eyes. “Y-Y/N, I didn’t mean to offend-“

“Oh but you did. You threatened to shoot me, you tried to seduce me, you hurt H, and you hurt me Riza. You say you love me but I see you for who you really are.” I found my shoes and slipped them on. “Now if you excuse me, I have to find my partner...and hopefully alive.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding looking towards the exit of the room.

“Y/N, darling-“ Riza reaches out and touched my arms.

“DON’T touch me!” I screamed, trying to pull myself away from her but she had me cornered. Locking her bedroom door, so that way I couldn’t leave the room and rather said, leave her. “Y/N-“ She brushed the side of my face and that’s when I broke down, tears starting to flow down my cheeks.

“Y/N, my sweet. I love you”

“No, you do-“

“Yes-“ She forced me to look at her. “Yes, I do. There’s something about you that makes me feel almost magnetized to you. Please, let me make it up to you. You do think pretty, don’t you?”

“Riza, this is not about looks! Yes, you are beautiful but this about you as a person and what you did to not only me but to H.” I looked up at her, letting my arms drop to my sides. Letting out a sigh of annoyance.

“He’s an ass, Y/N. A total and utter ass. If you were in my shoes you’d understand how I’d feel. He doesn’t-“

“I know he’s an ass but he’s a good person at heart. He tries, Riza.”

“Trying doesn’t make up for what he’s down though” She said as she crossed her two front arms.

“I know. I know, but he’s learning and so am I. I thought I liked him but I like too and I’m willing to try this out but I want you to be yourself. No using seduction on me, no hurting me-“

“Y/N, you’re talking to me like I’m a gentle person. I’m not gentle nor am I sweet by any means. I don’t deserve you” Riza said as she cubbed my cheeks.

“Maybe you don’t but I’m willing to give a second chance just this once.” There was a brief silence and Riza smiled. Her smile as bright as the sun when it rose from its deep. Pulling me in for a kiss, pulling me closer as ever second went by. Wrapping her arms around me. Moaning into every kiss.

“Oh, I will not let you down Y/N. You will never regret this my sweet.” Riza said as she bit her bottom lip, leaning her head back. Walking slowly backwards, towards the bed. Curling her finger as a signal for me to follow her. She slowly sat down onto the bed, leaning back on her elbows, lifting one of her legs. Showing it bare. Bitting her bottom lip once again.

“Where are you going with this, Riza.” I said as I crossed my arms. Looking over at Riza who was lying on the bed. Riza started to pull up her dress, revealing more of her long legs and her delicate skin. “Oh honey, I think you know exactly what I’m doing. Now come here.” She curled her finger again and the closer I got to her, the bigger the smirk her lips were as grew. Riza slowly spread her legs, making room for me. I slowly crawled onto the bed. Riza falling completely back against the mattress. I crawled further up until my nose was brushing against hers. Her face was all flustered. Her lips swollen, and her eyes filled with pure lust. Her legs moved up and down my sides. Wrapping themselves around my waist, locking her ankles and pushing me down.

“You’re my sweet girl now Y/N. And I will never let you go.”

[atths--twice]

Hey there. It seems that from Home Again to Babylon, we have a small time jump. Maggie passes in February and it seems the walk on the porch is in the spring, judging by the clothes and the weather. Therefore, we will be jumping along with it. 😊

Chapter Twenty Eight 

A Smart Move 

After Babylon, Scully thinks of the similarities between the case and her mother passing away. She is also faced with a decision for her future. 

April 2016

Watching the water drain from the tub, Scully sighed. She tied her robe tighter around herself and then took the rubber band from her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders. The past couple of months had been hard and this recent case had hit close to home.

She walked into her bedroom and her eyes landed on her suitcase. She had been too tired to deal with it last night when they returned from Texas. Walking over to it now, she cleared it out, before putting it back in her closet. She took her toiletries to the bathroom, putting them back under the sink for the next trip out of town.

Going back into her room, she put on some comfortable clothes as she thought about the past few days. Working with agents that she could not help but see a strong similarity to, was different. Agents Miller and Einstein, were an interesting pair. Einstein was a bit rough, but Scully understood. God, did she. Twenty three years had passed since she entered that basement office, but the bureau was still very much a man’s world. A woman had to be tougher and harder most of the time.

Seeing them, then hearing Einstein call him Miller, made her smile. Not every partner called each other by their last name, but to her and Mulder it was the norm, so much so that her first name was almost foreign to her. She was Scully, but only to Mulder, and vice versa. Hearing it in other agents always made her curious about their relationship, work or otherwise.

She walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, leaning against the sink as she drank it, thinking of how she enjoyed working with Agent Miller. He was attentive, interested, and cared not only about the outcome of the case, but the person involved. His care and keen interest was what drew her to call him and ask for his help.

Sighing, she set her glass down in the sink, thinking she wished she tried to speak to her mother, the way they tried with Shiraz before he died. It was experimental, and the brain activity they witnessed in Shiraz could have attributed to him dying, but Scully chose to believe he could hear them. He experienced more activity when Agent Miller spoke in Arabic and then even more when he heard his mother’s voice.

Thinking of her own mother, she sighed again, the recentness of her death sitting inside her like a weight. She remembered the silence around her in the hospital room, the heavy sadness as she sat by her mother’s side. Her thoughts were scattered in those moments, wondering what to do, and how to help her mother come back to them. Scully spoke to her, watching the monitors and her mother for any signs that she heard her. There only seemed to be a response when her mother’s advance directive was mentioned, as though her mother was trying to speak.

Charlie’s voice had done the job, rousing her mother from wherever she had been, just as Shiraz’s mother’s voice did for him. Charlie’s voice doing what Scully’s could not, would have felt hurtful, if she was a more sensitive person. Scully understood, though, she did. Charlie was her mother’s regret and ache that never went away.

He was her William.

Scully closed her eyes, tears threatening to fall. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head, stopping the thoughts of William that were closer to the surface more these days than they had been in the past.

Hearing her phone ringing in the other room, she opened her eyes, wiping them as she walked into her room. She frowned as she picked up her phone and answered a number she did not recognize.

“Hello?”

“Dana? Uh, Doctor Scully? It’s Alan, from the hospital.”

“Alan! Hello! How are you?” she asked with a smile. “It’s been, well, it’s been a while.”

“Yes it has,” he said with a chuckle. “I should be asking how you are. Working hard at saving the world?” She laughed at his joke and he laughed with her.

“Yeah, we’ve had some interesting cases so far, but what’s going on with you? I’m sure you’re calling out of the blue for a reason, and not just to see how I’m doing,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah, you got me,” he sighed. “It’s … well, it’s going to seem so odd when I ask you, but it’s a serious proposition.”

“Alan, we already talked about this,” she joked. “You and I would never work out. You’re gay and well, I’m in love with my partner.” He laughed and she smiled, glancing at her cat alien pillow and sighing.

“Oh, well, yeah, none of that’s changed,” he laughed again. “And it’s not that kind of proposition, lady.” She chuckled again and then fell silent. He sighed and she waited. “I applied to Doctors Without Borders and I’ve been accepted.”

“Alan! That’s fantastic!” she exclaimed. “Talk about saving the world.”

“Yeah, I’m actually really excited about it,” he said and she could hear the excitement in his voice. “But, it’s come up unexpectedly and I’m in a bit of a dilemma. I have to leave ASAP and this is where you could help me out.” He paused and her mind raced at the possibilities of what he could be suggesting.

“Okay, what’s the dilemma?” she asked curiously.

“Well, I bought a house recently, and I can’t have it sitting empty for the length of time I will be gone. I thought of who I would want to stay in it and honestly, I love all my friends, but those bitches can’t exactly be trusted,” he said, causing her to laugh. “So, I was calling to see what your situation is these days and, if you would be interested and consider house sitting, or more accurately, living here for a while.” She was quiet, as she looked around her sterile and rather sad apartment. She liked it there, but was curious about what he had to offer.

“Well, my situation hasn’t changed- much. We’re still separated, but … it’s, well, we’re …” She trailed off, not really sure how to address what they were to each other right now. “It’s been almost two years since you and I first talked about it over drinks and dinner that night, and Mulder and I are still … we’re complicated.” She sighed again and he laughed softly.

“What love isn’t?” he asked quietly and she sighed again, nodding even though he could not see her.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“So, what do you say? You want to come over and check the place out? If you don’t want to do it, I need to choose which of these dummies will be a good second choice,” he grumbled at the end, making her laugh.

“Okay, I can come and check it out. Are you home now?” she asked.

“I am. Oh, this would be wonderful if you could do it. Seriously, I wouldn’t worry about the place knowing you were here,” he said with relief. She laughed again as he gave her the address and she said she would be there soon.

Pulling up to the house a short time later, she raised her eyebrows. It was beautiful and made her feel peaceful. She got out and looked around at the front of the house, already liking what she saw of the place.

The front door opened and Alan walked out, smiling at her. She stepped over to him and gave him a hug, saying hello as she did. He laughed as he hugged her back.

“It’s so great to see you,” he said as he stepped back. “You look really good.” He smiled and she smiled back at him. “Yeah, you leaving the hospital and going back to the bureau was a good idea. It’s made you happy and light, I can see it.” She smiled wider and nodded.

“Well, let’s head inside and I’ll show you around, see if you think this is something you want to do,” he said, gesturing toward the house. She nodded and walked toward the front door.

Stepping inside the house, she raised her eyebrows. “Wow, this place is beautiful. Very clean and modern.” She walked into the kitchen and looked around at all the modern appliances and decorations. It was a truly stunning place.

He showed her the dining room, living areas, and bedrooms. Everything was so beautiful. It looked like a place Mulder would have, if he was physically able to not clutter every space with papers, books, pictures, videos and any other thing that struck his fancy.

Everything about the house made her feel comfortable and welcome. The fireplace looked inviting and she could imagine sitting in front of it with a glass of wine after work. The colors of the place were masculine, but not overwhelmingly so, and she loved the look of it. Again, it reminded her of Mulder, like his old apartment.

“Alan, I love it. It’s beautiful and I feel immediately at home here,” she smiled at him as they stood in the living room. “It’s a great house.”

“Wait, you haven’t even seen the best feature,” he said with a grin. Motioning her to follow him, he showed her the panel by the front door. “This controls everything: lights, heating, alarm, radio, computer, security cameras, everything. It’s all accessible remotely and it’s been amazing to have, especially with my schedule.” She stared at him wide-eyed.

“It’s a smart house,” she said quietly.

“It is indeed,” he said proudly. “It’s all hooked up to my preferences, which we will change to yours. If you want to do it.” He looked at her and smiled while she let it soak in.

“This is very different than what I’ve been around for half my life. I knew a trio of guys who would never live in a place with this kind of accessibility. I can imagine the talking to you would get for it too. The amount of times I would hear the word kid or son, from all of them would have me rolling my eyes,” she said with a laugh and a shake of her head. “You would have gotten a kick out of their conspiracy theories.” She smiled sadly as she thought of the Gunmen, missing them and their crackpot ideas. He smiled kindly at her and nodded.

“Anyway,” she sighed. “I like it here. It feels comfortable and familiar, reminds me of home, but with my tidiness.” She laughed and he joined her.

“So … you’re saying you want to stay here?” he asked hopefully. She smiled and nodded and he heaved a huge sigh of relief. “That’s great. Thank you so much, Dana.” She laughed and he led her to the kitchen to discuss what needed to be done.

Over a couple of cups of tea, he explained the features of the home to her and wrote everything down so she would be able to look back on it, in case she had any problems.

“Feel free to move anything around, make the place your own and we can always move it back later,” he said as they walked through the house again.

“Oh no, I like it all as it is, it’s beautifully decorated. And honestly, I don’t have much I’m attached to at my place. I’ve got my clothes, my bed, and a few little things there, but everything else could be sold and I wouldn’t really mind,” she said with a shrug.

“Well, we could move the mattress and put it in the guest room and then it would be ready to add yours,” he suggested. “That’s an easy fix.” She nodded and looked around the master bedroom, noting her bed would fit on the frame.

“Yeah, that would work out,” she agreed as they walked out of the room.

“We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon,” he said and she huffed in disbelief. “I know. I told you it was a time crunch, but they needed us quickly.” She looked at him with her eyebrows raised and he grinned. “Oh, did I not mention that I’m going … with my boyfriend?”

“No, you failed to mention that I believe,” she said with a grin.

“Oh did I? Huh,” he said, stroking his chin, making her laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been seeing him for a couple of months now. We both signed up, but didn’t know the other had until we each got a call. Turns out they need us both in the same place at the same time. It’s either fate or fuckery, we shall see.” Scully laughed and he chuckled beside her.

“So, we’ll move the bed and like I said, feel free to move anything else,” he said, walking to the kitchen again and opening a drawer. “These are the keys to the house, the back doors, and the garage. There is also a garage door opener, but it’s good to have the key. I’ll call the alarm company before we leave and your emergency password will be set to Queequeg as you asked. Weird name, but whatever.” She smacked his arm as she took the keys and he laughed. “Thank you for doing this Dana, it means a lot to me.”

“I’m happy to do it and actually I think it’s what I need right now. A change, but not too much of one,” she said with a sigh. “How long will you be gone?”

“Nine months to a year, but more likely a year,” he said and she nodded, looking off into the distance.

A year. It sounded like a long time, but also perfect. A year out and she and Mulder could be in a better place. She hoped they would be.

“Fate or fuckery,” she whispered and he nodded with a quiet chuckle. She looked at the keys and nodded. “I’m choosing fate.” He smiled and she took a deep breath.

_____________________

The next afternoon, Scully drove over to see Mulder. She was missing him and wanted to hear from his own mouth, what exactly he thought he was doing taking those pills Agent Einstein had given him. What he could possibly have hoped would be a good outcome to taking something he knew nothing about.

She shook her head and smiled. He was a middle aged man, and yet he still acted like a curious child. Some things never change, she thought, as she pulled up to the house, and she saw him on the porch.

He raised a hand to her as she stopped the car and she smiled again as she walked up the stairs, watching him take out his headphones and wrapping them around his phone. She smiled at him and he smiled back. God, he was handsome.

“Talk to me, Mulder.”

He smiled at her as she leaned against the railing of the porch, folding her hands together. “Oh ... where to begin?”

“Why didn't you tell me about your little scheme?” she asked, pushing her hair back from her face.

“Y-You were on your own mission,” he said pushing his sleeves up.  “And you would've never bought that.”

“Absolutely right. I have to applaud her, though, on her clever trick with the placebo,” she said, glancing around before looking at him with a smile.

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking down. “Yeah. How did that work?” He asked, raising  his eyes to her.

She smiled broadly at him and shook her head. “Wonders never cease with you.”

He nodded and licked his lips. “I saw things, though, Scully.” She took a deep breath at his words. “Powerful things. I saw deep and unconditional love.”

She smiled softly at him. “I saw things too. I witnessed unqualified hate, that appears to have no end,” she said, looking away, the hatred still forefront in her mind.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “But how to reconcile the two? The extremes of our nature.”

“That's the question,” she said, looking away before meeting his eyes. “Maybe the question of our times.”

He smiled at her, giving out a quiet laugh. He got up slowly and reached for her hand.

“Walk with me, Scully,” he said as she reached for his hand with both of hers, squeezing before dropping her left hand.

They began to walk down the stairs, toward the grass. “This whole thing has got me thinking. Thinking about God,” Mulder said, his hand warm and familiar in hers.

“You, Mulder? Thinking about God?” she asked skeptically as they stepped onto the grass. The wind blowing softly, the smell of spring heavy in the air.

“The angry God of the Bible. The Tower of Babel and Babylon, scattering people violently, so as never to speak a common language,” he explained as they walked.

“Punishing man for his hubris,” she agreed.

“Well, that lesson didn't stick. But the anger sure remains,” he said.

“That's the same angry God as in the Koran. Ordering death to the infidels,” she stated, reminding him that it was not just an angry God in the Bible.

“What exactly is this God saying? Worship me and my great anger?” he asked her, trying to understand that anger.

“Well, that's a good question, Mulder. One for the ages,” she said to him.

“Well, think about the immense power in those prophecies, the power in those words to convince young men to put on suicide vests today and murder for their angry God,” he looked at her, his words serious.

“What are you getting at?” she asked, wondering where he was going with his questions.

“Those boys, they just swallow the pill,” he said, looking at her. “It's the power of suggestion.” He explained and she squeezed his hand to stop them walking. She looked at him with a smile, happy to see him more like the old Mulder.

“Is this received wisdom from your magical mystery tour?” she teased as he took both her hands in his.

“Mm, yes. Courtesy of ... the shrooms, something else, something to ... trump all hatred: Mother Love,” he said, holding tight to her hands.

“Whoa,” she said, his words heavy.

“I refuse to believe that mothers are having babies just to be martyrs. I want to believe that mothers have a greater purpose for all of us,” he said.

“I agree. A child is not a tool to spread hatred,” she agreed, knowing he was absolutely correct.

“But where does the hatred end, though?” he asked as he looked at her.

“Maybe it ends where it began, by finding a common language again,” she said, her words holding weight. “Maybe that's God's will.” She added, keeping it to what they were discussing.

“How can we really know? He's absent from the stage,” he questioned.

“Well,” she said quietly with a smile. “Maybe it's beyond words. Maybe we should do like the prophets and open our hearts and truly listen.” She said, the double meaning pertaining to them not lost on her.

He nodded, closing his eyes briefly and taking a breath, lifting their joined hands. She laughed softly and he smiled at her. Then his expression changed, and he looked around, to the left and right.

“What?” she asked with a confused smile as he kept looking around.

“What?” she asked again, staring at his face.

“Did you hear that?” he asked incredulously.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said watching him looking up. “Do you seriously hear something or are you messing with me?” She smiled at him and he looked down at her.

“I swear I can hear trumpets, Scully. You don’t hear it, really?” He looked up again and she watched him, his hands in hers. When he looked down, he stared in her eyes.  

“I really don’t hear it, Mulder. Maybe it’s a side effect of your magical mystery tour,” she grinned and he laughed softly. “How are your wounds?” Nodding toward his neck, he shifted uncomfortably. Letting go of her hand, he pulled the neck of his shirt down a little, and she sucked in a breath. He fixed his shirt and shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you put that antibiotic cream I suggested on it?” she questioned him.

“I did last night, yeah.”

“And today?” At the shake of his head, she sighed and turned toward the house. “Come on then, I’ll take a look at it and fix it up for you.” He tightened his grip on her hand as they walked and she smiled.

As they walked up the steps, she gestured for him to sit back down in the chair outside, and she continued on into the house. She found the cream sitting on the kitchen table. Washing her hands at the sink, she dried them on a paper towel, sighing as she looked around. She missed being in this little house, being with him, but she also felt it was still not the right time to come back. There was something still holding her back, and she would continue waiting until she figured out what it was.

Wetting down a paper towel and grabbing a dry one, she picked up the cream and went back outside. He had taken off his shirts so she could get to his wounds easier, and she had to stop herself from moaning out loud. She always had appreciated his physique and now when she could not run her fingers freely over the muscles she saw, she appreciated it even more.

“Figured this would be easier,” he said with a shrug as she stepped closer to him.  

“Hmm,” was her answer as she handed him the antibiotic cream and the dry paper towel. Stepping even closer to him, she dabbed gently at the red angry welts on his chest. He hissed in pain, and she whispered an apology. She took the dry paper towel and fanned it to dry his chest enough to apply the cream.

“So, not only did you see Shiraz and his mother, you had a whole stoned fantasy sequence going on, huh?” she asked, glancing at him. “Ending with you marked by a whip wielded by Agent Einstein, no less.” He kept his head down and she hid her smile. “Wonders truly never cease with you, Mulder.”

He shook his head and looked up at her, her expression serious, eyebrows raised in question. “Scully,” he breathed out in exasperation.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth. She told me you said she was “fifty shades of bad.” Fifty, huh?” she said, touching his skin delicately, making sure it was dry. She tried to take the tube of cream from him, but he would not let go of it. “You want to do it?” she asked and made to step back, but his hand grabbed the back of her thigh and stopped her, keeping her between his knees. Handing her the cream, she smirked at him.

His hand was still on the back of her thigh, and she had to work at keeping her breathing steady, despite the fact that her heart was racing. His other hand moved to her other thigh and caused her to stumble slightly, catching herself on his shoulder. When he looked up at her, her mouth went dry.

“I didn’t choose what I saw in my vision,” he said, his fingers massaging slowly on her thighs. “Scully, I wore a cowboy hat. I was line dancing. I shimmied and did a back flip. Does that sound like me?” She tried not to laugh, but she failed, chuckling as she started to dab on the antibiotic cream.

“It doesn’t, no, but neither does the being whipped by, what I can only assume, was a dominatrix Agent Einstein,” she countered as she slowly rubbed in the cream, hearing his breath catch. He sighed, and she knew she was right. Looking back up at her, he gave her the sad eyes he did so well. Rolling hers, she knew when to stop pushing him to answer her on a certain topic.

“So, who else was there? Skinner, I know. But who else?” she asked, rubbing the cream into the other welt. He rubbed his thumbs against her thighs and she kept her attention on his wound, avoiding his eyes.

“Skinner, yeah, and the Gunmen. And lots of women dancing around our table,” he said, closing his eyes, sighing loudly.

“Hmm,” she said, feeling his hands open and scratch lightly at her thighs. The cream was completely applied and so she started waving her hand over his chest again, drying the cream before he was to put his shirt back on. “I wasn’t there this time? Didn’t save the world from the Nazis?” Smiling as she asked him, remembering his declaration of love for her last time he had a vision, and her response of ‘oh brother.’

“No, you weren’t there this time,” he said, his eyes still closed, his fingers kneading softly at her thighs.

“I see,” she said, watching his face and waiting. His eyes opened and he stared in hers.

“I didn’t need you there, Scully,” he said softly, and her stomach dropped. Didn’t need her there? She tried to step back and once again he held her from moving. Staring at her, his hands firm on her thighs, her hands on his shoulders, he shook his head with a smile. “I didn’t need to envision you, Scully, or fantasize about you. No fantasy has ever lived up to the real thing. Not ever.”

She took a deep breath as his words made her stomach clench. She looked at his lips, felt his fingers push her closer, and her nails pushed into his shoulders. His eyes dropped to her lips and she started leaning in toward him, aching to kiss him after so long, when she heard her phone ringing.

Pulling back, she frowned at him as she reached in her jacket pocket and took out her phone. Alan’s newly added name and number was on the screen and she stepped away from Mulder completely as she answered the phone.

“Alan, hi. Everything okay?” she asked and she saw Mulder out of the corner of her eye, with his head back and his hands in fists on his thighs.

“Dana! Yes, everything is fine! Needed to verify the house code you wanted. Password is Queequeg I know, but the numbers for the keypad, do you have a preference? I can’t remember what you said,” he asked her.

“Oh, um, yeah. My birthday, 0223, that should be good. Easy to remember, anyway,” she laughed.

“Great. Okay, I’m changing the code now and then Brian and I are heading to the airport. Thank you again for doing this, Dana. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I’ve left the instructions for everything on the dining room table. See you in about a year!” he laughed.

“Yeah. See you,” she laughed with him and hung up.

“Who was that?” Mulder asked behind her and she turned to him. He had put his shirts back on and she sighed, disappointed that the mood had shifted.

“Uh, it was Alan, a doctor from the hospital. He uh … he’s going … wow, I don’t remember which country he said, but he’s doing Doctors Without Borders and he’s leaving today,” she said, putting her phone in her pocket as she watched his face. “He asked if I would watch his place while he’s gone.” He raised his eyebrows and then frowned.

“Watch his place. You mean live there? While he’s gone? For what, like a … year?” The way he said year made her ache inside. His eyes were once again sad, but this time in a different way. After what almost happened a few minutes ago, she could understand his confusion.

“Yes, it’s probably for a year, but …” she sighed and brushed her hair back. “It’s only a year, and … is it so different than me being at my apartment?” He stared at her, his eyes traveling over her face. His shoulders dropped as he nodded with a half smile that did not quite reach his eyes. She took his hand and laced their fingers together.

“It’s a pretty great house,” she said, squeezing his hand and tilting her head.

“You say that, here? Where she can hear you?” he said, nodding toward the front door. “She didn’t mean it, girl. You’re a great house.” He touched the side of the house, shaking his head at Scully and huffing out a sigh. She laughed and squeezed his hand again before letting it go.

“Do you want to come and see it?” she asked, walking over and picking up the paper towels and cream. “I got the keys yesterday and had the tour. It’s really a nice place.” She looked at him, and he shrugged noncommittally. Raising her eyebrows, he nodded, making her smile. “I’ll put this away, and we can head over, then grab some lunch?” He nodded and she went inside, smiling as she did.

_______________

The sun was turning rosy golden as she drove away from dropping Mulder back at home. She laughed as she thought of his huge eyes upon seeing the smart house. His head shaking as he looked around.

“Scully,” he said, looking at her. “What would the guys say about this place? Frohike would have to wear some specially made Kevlar type suit in order to visit you. Head to toe, no joke.” She laughed, and he shook his head again.

He looked all around, and she watched him, wondering what he was thinking. Finally he stopped in the dining room, his hand lightly touching the table. Turning to her, he sighed and shook his head again.

“Why is your house so much nicer than mine?” he asked with his sad eyes, and she laughed.

“It’s not my house, Mulder,” she said with a smile. “I like it, the modernness of it, but … it’s not the one I would choose to live in forever if I was given the choice.” She held his gaze, knowing he would understand what she was not saying. He nodded and turned to look around again.

They discovered a hot tub in the enclosed private backyard and she saw his eyes light up for a second then flick to hers, asking her a silent question. Yes, she did, her eyes quickly answered him, she did remember the night in a different hot tub. How it felt as she slid down his length, the warmth of the water around her, his fingers squeezing her hips as she started to ride him.

Yeah. She remembered.

Walking back inside, he glanced her way again and sighed. After gathering their things, she set the alarm and they walked to the car, ready to get some lunch. She started the car and squeezed his knee. He sighed and covered her hand with his, giving it a squeeze before letting it go. He looked at her and smiled, his eyes only slightly sad.

Over lunch, he agreed to help her move her clothes and bed over when she was ready. “We’ll rent one of those trailers that attach to the car. I’ve always wanted to use that trailer hitch, it’ll make me feel manly,” he said with a chin nod to her. She laughed, and he smiled.

When they drove back to Farrs Corner, he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. He smiled and looked out the window, squeezing her hand as he did. Pulling up to the house, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, looking in her eyes. She smiled at him as he let go and got out without a word.

He walked up the steps and turned to give her a wave, which she returned before backing up and heading back to her apartment. She let out a sigh, a soft smile on her face. This had been a good day, bittersweet at times, but good. The past few months of working together were up and down. Some days she wanted to walk away, never looking back. Then some days, she wanted to crawl into his lap and kiss him until they both ran out of air. She missed him, God, she missed him so much.

But, she thought, then there were days like today. She smiled at the sweet way he smiled at her, the feel of his hand in hers, his hands on her thighs making her pulse race, and his lips pressed to her skin. She sighed with a smile at how he could still give her butterflies in her stomach after all these years.

“A year isn’t so bad,” she said quietly into the car. “Not if it means there will be days like this one. Better than any fantasy.”

Then she remembered the hot tub at Alan’s and her breath caught. Thoughts of possibly using that with Mulder at some point, clothing optional, gave her more butterflies.

Well,” she mumbled through a grin, as she got on the interstate. “Almost any fantasy.”

__________________________________________________

So, the smart house is used in Rm9 for a reason, I know, but maybe this was how it came to be. I love Alan and the decor of the smart house always seemed rather masculine to me. Scully’s previous place was always cozy and inviting and this place, while beautiful, doesn’t feel “Scully” to me. So, I’m going with it’s a buddies place, with some of her stuff added as she lives there for a while.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

J.B.B (14)

Bucky x fem!Reader

Series: Will contain fluff, smut, bloodshed, violence, anxiety, tears and the cries of my wilted soul. Yes, the usual. With a dash of the not so liked canon that I wanted to set on fire and drop into a 2000 ft deep valley.

Chapter content: The Endgame stuff and more.

Warnings: Pain. duh!

Word count:  don’t really know where the resolve to write it came from but I just went with it. And...let’s see how it comes out to be.

MASTERLIST & Taglist in bio, my love

The pressure of water was smooth over the fingers that were moving in a dreamy trance under the flat flow, not with the intention of being cleansed, but with the purpose of finding some part in the grooves and edges that might be hiding something- anything- that once was and now had turned to ashes. The knuckles were bloodied red, feeling the coldness ten times more than what it was supposed to be. The otherwise spotlessly clean sink was now marred with whatever dirt these numb hands had brought in from the grounds outside.

There was a ruffle outside the door. Someone walking outside; probably keeping an eye out. For you.

What do they think, I'm gonna kill myself?

And suddenly that thought swirled inside your head like a jerk of absinthe hitting in late- poisonous but enticing.

The sudden tremble of the huge mirror in front of you made you fear that the walls heard your thoughts, shaking back at you for thinking such a thing. It was only a few seconds later when the mirrors did not stop vibrating that you realised it had nothing to do with you but something to do with whatever happening in the grounds outside.

You opened the door and found the way to the eerily empty hall that had been bustling with grim faces and forces beyond your comprehension.

Where did everyone go?

It was cold. Too cold. You really could not figure out whether the shaking of your insides was because of the lack of heat or the aftershock. Nonetheless, it was not helping. At all. Your chest was aching on having felt the squeezing reality the entire day. Your gut was not helping either. The placebo of feeling something ready to gush out of you from between your legs any moment did not help either.

What could possibly be worse than this happening to you?

The furore at the door caught your ears, making your head turn in that direction to watch Miss Potts help a man reduced to bones and skin inside and on a chair, Steve, Rhodey, Natasha, Dr Banner following them. And that mysterious woman who glowed- coming out of nowhere before flying away to get...oh God.

That was bones and skin was Tony Stark.

.

Nebula stood by the doors, watching the woman with a kind face take care of a now unconscious Tony. That must be Pepper. She was just like how Tony described her. And the man taking off Tony's glasses must be Rhodey.

Family , she heard her mind echo Tony's words.

"They're my family. Do you have a family, Smurfette?"

"What's a Smurfette?"

"A blue Princess. That's what I'm gonna call you if you don't tell me your name."

"I'm not a Princess!"

"Okay! No need to hiss. I'm Tony. I've given you my name. Now..."

"..."

"Now you can tell me yours. Otherwise, I'll be calling you all things blue so-"

"I have a sister. I...had a sister. She had a family."

"...okay. Okay. I...I don't know if my family is...well, I can only hope."

"Do they fight you till death?"

"Wh-I'm sorry?"

"Your family. Do they have deathmatches with you? Do they spar with you?"

"...we clearly have different definitions of family. And no. We don't spar. We give each other hugs and kisses and lectures when one of us is being too stubborn of an asshole about saving the world and not listening to the other about taking a few days off to a self-care spa or something."

“...”

“What.”

"Gross."

"Yeah, well, your dad didn't take you to Disneyland during grade week so easy with that judgy vibe, okay? All right then. Come on, let's fix that engine, shall we? And try going easy with the welding equipment this time. Keep it away from your eyes. I could only do so much for that...that broken metal thing on your face."

"..."

"...you comin'?"

"Nebula."

"...I'm sure the engine model doesn't matter-"

"That's my name."

"Oh. Oh! Nebula. That's a beautiful name, Nebula."

"Let's just fix that damn engine."

Family.

She had already decided whom she was supposed to look after. The rest of the crowd had her neutrality- considering they were already used to Rocket and his noisy mouth. The only one left to observe was the red-eyed woman- barely- standing by the corner next to the kitchen space. Pepper had called her Y/N and thanked her for getting a glass of water for Tony when the latter had toppled down after heated words with Steve. That woman stood there, her arms wrapped around her- the thin sweater barely doing anything to stop the cold from taking over that visibly shaking body. Those puffed up eyes told Nebula she had not been taken by sleep. Her guess was she hadn't slept for the past twenty-three days. Twenty-three days since the snap. She seemed lost here. Not knowing what to do before hesitatingly walking towards where Pepper and a now sedated Tony were, making the assassin stand straight walk towards that human with her hand ready on the dagger sleeping in her belt.

"Is there anything I can bring you, Miss Potts?"

Nebula stopped right behind the woman, the words of the woman making her pause the movement of her hands from getting the dagger halfway out. The voice that just came out was laden with lack of sleep and quite probably a repeatedly choked throat.

"I'm fine," Pepper replied softly with a smile that reached her eyes, creating this weird sensation in Nebula's chest, "thank you, Y/N."

The dagger went back to its sleeping den.

.

"Steve, please."

"Y/N-"

"Please! Don't!"

"I have to do it."

"Why?!"

The pitch of your own voice startled you as well as Steve. This was the first time you were really talking to him- even though it was more of an argument than a chat.

"Because this is the only thing that could work, Y/N!"

"Going to the one thing that wiped away people we cared about is in no way a sane option, Rogers."

"I never said it was sane," Steve stated, crossing his arms.

"Steve! Are you listening to yourself!" Your lungs ached at the amount of effort they were putting in just to lay your point across. "You are needed here. You are the only ones left to defend the planet and-"

"I lost half the people I was supposed to defend, Y/N," Steve shouted back, taking you a little by surprise, "and I am not going to sit here wallowing in the loss when I can take on that son of a bitch. You lost something too-"

"Don't," you growled through your gritted teeth, your eyes on the edge of giving way to the floodgates. "Don't you dare!"

"I cannot not do something about it, Y/N."

"Oh, my G-don't you understand! I cannot lose you as well, Steven!" you shouted, the tears breaking both your voice and your spirit, the words coming out hoarse and broken with every passing second, "I have already lost him and now I cannot you lose you. I cannot lose Nat! I can't!! I can't! I don't have the strength to watch you disappear just like him."

He was nothing but a blur in front of you. Your breaths stuck in your throat, no voice escaping it while you held on to his arms.

"I have to go, Y/N," Steve whispered as he moved his hands away from his arms, wiping away the tears from your cheeks, "I need to do everything in my power to bring them back. I need to bring Bucky back."

You winced at his name, your insides on fire at the memories flushing back in.

"I promise I'll bring h-"

"No."

You were already turning away, inching away from him, letting your back face his startled face. "Don't do that to me."

"Y/N-"

"Go away," you declared loud and clear for the rest of the spectators before walking away, never looking back.

.

Two Years Later

"Yes. Yes, Panther. I heard you the first time."

Kline poured the milk in the black bowl, not getting enough time to keep the bowl on the floor for Panther was already up on the slab, drinking the liquid as fast as he could.

"Slow, Panther," Kline stressed, teasingly moving the cat's face away from the bowl, "you'll be sleeping outside if you puke in my hall."

Panther yowled before cutting a look outside the window with a steady glare, forcing Kline to look in the direction the cat was looking. And see something he did. A figure clad in a black overcoat looking at the dilapidated building in front of his apartment.

A tiny gasp left his lungs.

It was a small possibility. But it was a possibility nonetheless.

Within no time he was grabbing his walking stick and coat, covering himself decently before clicking open his front door to let the nascent October chill inside the welcome area. He could already see his breathe- which was getting a bit shallow as his heartbeat picked up the pace- when he looked at the odd familiarity of the person's back- who was already turning around to greet him with a smile.

"Y/N," he found himself saying in a relieved breath.

Your eyes had the same kindness in them, your hair longer than he'd last seen you, your face a little different than he'd last seen you. But that smile. That smile did not change.

"Hi, Kline."

The cups clattered, forcing you to get up and take them from Kline's hands before you drew his chair for him.

The dining hall was just as you'd last seen it. Same seats. Same chandelier. Same photographs of the couple. Nothing had changed.

Except for everything.

"Oh." Your voice brought Kline into the room as he saw you facing his roommate, "I see Panther found his way in here finally."

Kline chuckled. "Yes, he did. This stubborn bastard just won't leave me alone so thought oh what the hell."

"You hearin' that Panther?" you said to the black cat sniffing you whole. "And this is coming from the man who didn't like cats that much."

Panther let you scratch his head, closing his eyes and enjoying the much-needed massage that Kline barely let him have.

A few moments passed in comfortable silence before you finally spoke.

"How're you doing, Kline?"

He gave you a weak smile, letting the dullness in his eyes speak for him. "I'm going about. It's...uhh...it's been hard since Michael...since he..."

"Vanished," you helped him, earning a nod.

"There was a bit of chaos. Panther was scared since Sakura and...the other one didn't...survive. So, I took him in. How...how have you been?"

You took in a lungful before smiling. "I'm fine. I've been doing okay for a while now. You know, one day at a time."

"Oh," Kline nodded, "okay. Th-that's great."

"Yup."

"And how's...how's he?"

You took in another lungful, this time your resting fingers rising up and away from the table. "He is not here. He didn't-" you clear your throat, leaving a whisper to do the rest of the work, "he didn't make it."

This time the silence is a little heavy, carrying in the air the unspoken burdens of the past lying a little too heavy on the hearts.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Kline's words broke the unspoken barriers, "I am sorry for what I did that day. I am so sorry for leaving you like that. I didn't realise what I was putting you through at that point. I was blinded by fear. I should have listened to you. I should have done some-"

"Kline. It's fine. It doesn't matter now."

"It does," he stressed, the moisture in his eyes increasing, "It does because I lost you. I lost Michael and I feel like I am being punished for what I did to you. I lost the one thing most precious to me when I did not help you save yours."

The ripple in your chest was small yet noticeable. Breathe, your mind echoed, just like you had clocked it to. And so you took his hand in yours.

"This wasn't a punishment. This was the work of insanity. We, unfortunately, were the lucky ones to have survived to be hurt every day. Over and over again."

.

You parked the car in front of the guesthouse and turned off the lights quickly so as not to disturb your hosts.

It's your house , your mind repeated his words.

Right , you stressed to yourself, my house.

You barely stepped out of the car when you can heard a squeaky little voice call out 'Dee-Dee' from the main house.

That was your cue.

"You're late, young lady."

"Yes, sorr-hey!"

"Dee-Dee!" the squeaky little voice came out of the living room in the form of a two-year-old in PJs trying to run the funny run of the kid who has just learned how to use their legs. The little one wrapped itself around your leg in a hug, phasing from the 'dee-dee' to 'daa-daa'.

"Hi, Magoona!" you greeted the cutest Stark in the house, picking her up in your arms and melting just as she opened hers to wrap around your neck in a hug.

"Daa-daa home!"

"Woah, hey," Tony called out from the kitchen before walking into the space with a washcloth on his shoulder, "I'm the daa-daa here. Give her another name or you don't get any juice-pop tonight."

Morgan rests her head on your shoulder, looking at Tony from the corner of her eyes before softly poking your chest with her finger and declaring you 'daa-daa', testing the waters.

"I was stuck in traffic," you answered Tony's question to save Tony's ego from being bruised, hoping he did not hear Morgan over your voice. Also hoping that you were not interrupting Stark family time even though it was the weekend family dinner where, as Tony put it, 'you have to be present or I cut off all your perks .'

"Your flight landed four hours ago. So, that traffic better be something," Tony declared before turning towards the kitchen, "and I heard that Magoona! No juice-pop for you."

"Noooooo! Daddy!"

You let the wriggling kid down for her to run towards Tony, who first elected to ignore her before picking her up and throwing her in the air to catch her and hug her tight, planting a kiss on her cheek.

You stood in the living room, smiling at the scene unfolding in front of you, your eyes a bit dewy at the love and warmth always present in this house.

You, a spectator, standing there watching the father and daughter giggle and laugh at their inside joked before Pepper called them for dinner at the table and they went in, out of your sight, leaving you to feel the emptiness that would resurface at the most inordinate time.

This. This was home. This was complete. A family.

What were you?

The feeling of your coat being moved off your shoulders broke you of your trance to turn and watch Tony taking it away to hang it up while Pepper stood by the doorway, waiting for you.

"You okay?" Tony asked, his soft eyes not giving away anything he didn't want to give away.

You nodded.

"Come on, Y/N," Pepper softly called out for you with a soothing smile, "dinner's waiting."

You breathed. Eased your chest.

Home.

Taking one step towards Pepper, you had a realisation breaking over your face.

"I just realised I forgot to get the things Morgan had asked me to get from my little trip."

"Oh," Tony exclaimed, walking towards the table with you, "what did she ask for?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just the plane I flew in."

"Huh," Tony acknowledged out loud, "that should be easy to arrange."

You turned to a very done Pepper. "I really can't joke with him, can I? ‘Cause I honestly don’t know if he’ll buy the airline tomorrow."

She shook her head and sat down, already raising her hands in defeat.

Morgan squiggled on her chair between you and Tony to face her mom.

"I'm surprised he hasn't bought all the toy stores yet," Pepper whispered to you, making you chuckle.

"What?" Tony felt insulted as he popped a carrot in his mouth, "I have entire industries as her playfield. Well, your industries that have my name on them. I don't need some Toys R Us shit for Magoona."

You burst out laughing while Pepper gave him her signature stare with a stern 'Tony!' making Morgan giggle and look at her parents with starry eyes.

Home.

[glennetration]

from the temple to the tomb

read it on ao3!

What Mac hadn’t thought about was how cold the water would be.

It’s not freezing, not cold like Alaska or Antarctica or anything, not enough to make him shiver, but the vague notion of the chill swirls around in his brain and his limbs and his fingertips, weighing him down even more than his questions about God. It’s like when he and Charlie managed to convince Mrs. Kelly that they wouldn’t catch cold and die if they went to the pool in sixty-five degree weather, and they’d get in and it would all be fine until the water hit their thighs and stomachs and chests, and they’d have to race back and forth across the pool so they could tough out the chill. It’s kind of like that, because he honestly hadn’t really thought about the temperature until the water soaked through his jeans and got closer to his core, but it’s more different than similar, because instead of trying to out-somersault Charlie, he and Dennis and Dee and Frank are all making sure that Charlie’s head injury doesn’t make him pass out again.

It’s fitting that he and Charlie go down last, he thinks. The twins— God, how long has it been since he thought of them as the twins?— have been tied to each other since birth, and he and Charlie were only a few years behind them. He’s going to die, he’s going to drown and water is going to fill his lungs and he’ll be getting answers sooner than he ever imagined, and he’s going to do it with Charlie on one side and Dennis on the other. Dennis’s hand is warm, interlacing with his own so tightly that no water can slip through.

A wave of self-loathing washes over him, stronger than anything the ocean could throw, as he wonders how different everything could’ve been if he hadn’t been so afraid of God. He and Dennis could’ve dated, they could’ve gotten a one-bedroom apartment when Dennis graduated, they could’ve died without the words I love you sitting heavy on Mac’s tongue—

And then the door at the top is opening, and the old fear washes over him again as soon as the light touches him. A man’s voice, a lot like his dad’s, says, This was your punishment for doubting me, and Mac doesn’t question it. He swims up as fast as he possibly can, desperately trying to replace the water between his fingers with the brightness up above. Fuck, Mac thinks, God knows better than anyone. He breaks the surface and someone pulls him up, and his body is coughing up the water he’s inhaled but his mind is blank.

“Where’s Dennis,” Dee croaks, her voice salty-rough and filled with fear. “Where— my brother—“ she doubles over and coughs up water, and Mac barely notices because she’s right, Dennis isn’t here, and that can only mean—

The water is even colder than before, and he almost gasps in a lungful of it as he submerges his head, but it doesn’t matter because God is taking Dennis away as punishment for Mac’s sins. Dennis is suspended like a fly in honey and bathed in the ghostly light from above, his skin pale and his curls floating free, like Mac used to imagine that guy Icarus from the story Dennis had to learn for his Greek class, except this time Icarus is sinking under the waves instead of burning up in the sun. Dennis is not a golden god— what with false iconography and all that— but it still isn’t fitting for him to die underwater. Dennis isn’t gonna die, Mac thinks, even as panic fills his chest and church hymns about God’s wrath fill his head. He’s not gonna die, he’s not gonna die, he’s not gonna— and then he’s grabbing Dennis, and Dennis is ten degrees colder than the water but Mac is holding him tight and his lungs are burning and the surface is calling him again, and he heaves Dennis onto the metal floor and pulls himself out as he chokes on seawater that isn’t there.

He closes his eyes as the sting of the icy metal makes half his body go numb, and when he opens them again, the first thing he sees is a small cut across Dennis’s temple, the dark red standing out against the nearly blue tone to his skin. Mac’s stomach turns. “He’s— he’s hurt,” he croaks, trying to think, trying to remember if his feet knocked against anything on his first mad rush to the surface, if his flailing hands cracked against a fragile skull. He rips his hand away from Dennis’s wrist— when did that get there? he wonders, in the part of his brain that’s too far-off to be affected by what’s happening— and checks his knuckles.

They’re clean.

The relief disappears faster than it came, because without his knuckles to focus on, all he can see is Dennis’s face. In the background, the paramedics are doing something to him to make the water come up and Charlie is clinging to Frank like he’s his dad and Dee is staring, glassy-eyed, at her twin.

Dee is never silent.

“What’s wrong with him?” Mac asks. “Is he dead?”

“Sir, please calm down—”

“I am calm, assface! Is he dead?!”

“Sir, he’s not dead, we need you to stop yelling—”

“I’m not fucking yelling, and you’d know that if you were more than just the shittier version of a doctor—”

“Sir! I don’t want to sedate you—”

“What the hell is happening to him—”

“Mac, shut up!” Dee hisses, and it’s more like a sob, and he does, because the last time she sounded like this was when they were sixteen and Dennis had been put in the ICU for low blood sugar and she’d stabbed Mac with a scalpel because he wouldn’t quiet down with his praying, but how the hell else was God supposed to hear him? And Dennis had turned out fine that time, so Mac has to pray this time too. The words to one of his favorite prayers rise to his lips, unbidden, and he starts to whisper them. “Goddamnit, Mac, shut the fuck up with your fucking prayers—”

“Look, I gotta pray, okay!”

“Sir, ma’am—”

“What the fuck happened to ‘God doesn’t exist—’”

“He does! I was wrong! He does, and this— you—” He draws a shuddering breath, and he starts praying again.

“We need to look you over, sir—”

“Mac, I swear to God—”

“Don’t!” Mac bellows, and her eyes go wide. “Don’t you fucking dare, not right now—”

“Oh, you goddamn idiot! God isn’t going to save Dennis, okay? God doesn’t give a shit about us, and even if he did, you’d probably be the one to fucking—”

“Ma’am—”

“Do this later!” Charlie yells. They all shut up, and even the stream of prayers dries up, and Charlie takes a deep breath, like he’s regretting breaking his silence. “Just— look. Mr. Paramedic, how— how’s he doing?”

“We need to get him to a hospital quickly, in case there’s brain damage, and the rest of you need to stay behind to get examined.”

“I’m going with Dennis,” Mac tells the paramedic.

“Sir, please just—”

“I’m going with him!” Mac replies. “Have your little fake-doctor squad look me over on the way, because I’m going with him, and you can’t— you can’t—” His breaths are coming short and quick, and everything apart from Dennis’s prone form is a blue-and-gray blur. He’s not gonna die, he’s not gonna die, he’s not gonna die—

“Okay, that’s fine. Sir, take a deep breath—”

“Fuck you!” Mac yells, shoving the paramedic away, and he can’t get any air, he’s underwater again, fuck— he reaches out for Dennis’s wrist, begging whoever’s up there to let him feel a pulse.

It’s there. It’s sluggish, but it’s there. Mac tries to regulate his breathing, like Dee’s therapist bitch told him to, taking a breath with every pump of Dennis’s blood. “I’m going with him,” Mac repeats. “I’m going— I’m going—”

“Yeah, we’ll— we’ll see you,” Dee says. Without the anger lighting fires in her eyes, she looks like a shriveled husk. Her eyelashes are tacking together. Charlie looks completely lost, and not in the spray-paint way, but he lifts his hand and waves anyways. Frank’s face is stony, and Mac wonders if they’d be here if not for him. Either way, he knows that Dennis wouldn’t have been hospitalized at age sixteen if Frank had been a half-decent parent. He decides that for the moment, he hates Frank with every fiber of his being.

He doesn’t know how they get to a hospital— there’s stretchers and a boat and people who poke at him and ask him to say ahh, and then the next thing he knows is that he’s sitting in a chair next to Dennis’s hospital bed. He doesn’t think that he’s dropped Dennis’s wrist once. Maybe listening to the thump of Dennis’s heartbeat was some kind of blood magic, because Mac hasn’t been able to think of a single prayer, yet Dennis is still alive. Maybe Mac is going to burn in hell for it. He doesn’t think he cares all that much, because fire, with all its crackling warmth, sounds pretty fucking good right now.

Dennis’s pulse is still slow— Mac knows, because he used his own pulse for comparison, and even though his is apparently a little faster than usual, Dennis’s is still really, really slow— but he’s not gonna die. He’snotgonnadiehe’snotgonnadiehe’snotgonnadie repeats itself in Mac’s head, over and over like it’s the prayers he’s been forgetting this whole time, and it’s still not enough.

And then Dennis’s heartbeat speeds up a little, and Mac’s heart rate jumps to match. “Dennis?” Mac whispers, like if he says the name then Dennis will disappear in a puff of smoke. “Dennis, you awake?”

Dennis groans, his eyes screwed shut. “Jesus, my head.”

Mac lets out an aborted laugh, tentative and incredulous, and he blinks hard, just to make sure he’s not hallucinating. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, no shit. What happened?” Dennis asks, and his raspy voice sounds like hell, but he’s alive.

“Uh. You— you took a hit, someone— on the way up— well, yeah. But you didn’t come up, and Dee realized that you weren’t there and I went back and got you.”

Dennis slowly opens his eyes and turns his head, and his red eyes are glassy, and he’s looking at Mac like everything is completely new. “So… you risked your life.”

Mac shifts, and he’s suddenly acutely aware that he’s still holding Dennis’s wrist, but Dennis doesn’t move away. “Yeah, I guess.”

“For— for me?”

“Well, I mean, I guess.”

Dennis turns his head back up to the ceiling and exhales sharply, like someone’s knocked the air from his lungs. “Oh.”

“What— what does that mean?”

“Can’t it just mean oh?” Dennis asks, his voice torn between snappish and pleading.

“If that’s what you want, buddy.”

Dennis closes his eyes again, and Mac’s gaze shifts from Dennis’s face to the rise and fall of his chest. Up. Down. Up. Down.

“You’re feeling okay, right?”

“Yeah. Yep.”

“It’s just— you’re shivering a lot, man.”

“Goddamnit, Mac, I’m—” The “fine” part hangs in the air like a cloud of smoke, and then Dennis says, “I’m— I’m cold, actually.”

“You want me to get them to bring you more blankets?”

“I have four already, dude. I don’t think that’s gonna help much.”

“Well, what d’you want me to do?” Mac’s itching to do something, to help, to make himself useful. “What can I do?”

“Mac, just—” Dennis opens his eyes and looks up and his jaw clenches like he’s steeling himself for something. The tensing muscles make the cut on his head stand out even more, and Mac resolves to ignore it. “Can you. Uh. Get in the bed.”

That’s unexpected. “Like. With you?”

“No, with Jerry fucking Seinfeld. Yes, with me, Mac. Uh. Please?”

Mac sits frozen for a second, because that sounds kind of gay and Dennis is his best friend and nothing more, but then again, he did say he’d do anything to help, and climbing into a hospital bed is hardly the worst thing in the world. He unfolds himself from the chair, and he awkwardly slots himself under Dennis’s covers. He lies there, stiff, keeping his hold on Dennis’s wrist, and then Dennis says, “You know being gay isn’t a sin, right?”

Mac tenses up, every muscle in his body bunched up and ready to spring loose just in case Dennis says the wrong thing, like when Sam Letterman had asked Mac out in ninth grade and Mac had punched him square in the nose, even though everything in him had said not to. “Why are you talking about gay shit, dude?”

“Because you came out to me, like, six hours ago, and I can tell that you’re doing that thing.”

“What— the fuck do you mean, thing?”

“Jesus Christ—”

“Can we not bring him in, please?” Mac asks, clenching his free hand into a fist.

“Fine.” To Mac’s surprise, Dennis says it almost understandingly.

“Okay. What thing?”

“The whole— y’know, the whole repression thing,” Dennis whines. “It’s just so— look, Mac, you think God smites those gay people on sight?”

“Well, He can’t do that anymore. He just sends them to Hell.”

“Yeah. Okay. But how do you know what Hell is like?”

“Because of the Bible, dumbass.”

Dennis sighs at him, and Mac glares right back. “It can’t be the same Hell for everybody.”

“Why the shit not?”

“Well, because you have people like masochists and shit, who probably get off on that.”

That’s actually a good point. “Dennis, what the hell are you trying to do here? Convert me to agnosticism or some shit?”

“That would be impossible in a non-life-or-death situation. No, Mac, just— just go with me here, okay, baby boy?”

And that’s the killer— Mac can’t resist when Dennis says that, because his heart does a weird little flip whenever he hears it, and if he dwells on why, then he’ll go crazy. And going along has never hurt him anyways, because he trusts Dennis. “Fine.”

“Okay. So, like, you don’t know what hell is like, right? Or at least your Hell?”

This is Dennis’s scheming voice, the voice he uses to hoodwink the mark faster than they can blink, and Mac has never been on the receiving end of it before, but he suddenly realizes why Dennis pulls off his part of their plans the most. “I guess not?”

“Well, what would your Hell be?”

Mac thinks of an answer to that immediately. Hell is fire and brimstone and screams and being without Dennis and the gang. “What the fuck are you playing at, dude? I don’t goddamn know.”

Dennis rolls over on his side, his face taut with pain, so that he’s facing Mac. He pulls his hand out from Mac’s grip, and then he lays it on Mac’s face. “Mac,” he says, slowly, cautiously, “can I try something?”

Mac is hyper aware of Dennis’s hand on his face, of Dennis’s cold fingers almost burning against his skin, of his heart thumping faster than it has any right to. He nods— if he even manages to get any words out, he might break the spell that’s fallen over them and allowed them to do this.

Dennis leans forward and kisses him, and Mac realizes that maybe he’s been waiting for this for the past twenty-five years. Dennis’s lips are warm and soft and Mac can taste the faint remnants of Dennis’s tinted lip balm, and when Dennis pulls away Mac thinks he might die if he doesn’t get to do that again.

You’re going to Hell.

Mac scrambles back, putting as much space between them as he can without launching himself over the rail of the bed. “What the fuck was that?”

Dennis’s eyes are wide, boring into Mac’s own, but his jaw is clenched, like he can’t decide whether to be hurt or pissed. “You know what that was.”

“That— that was fucking gay, okay? And I’m not gay, and you aren’t either—”

“Mac, gay people don’t go to Hell, okay!”

“How the fuck do you know that? Huh? You’re so sure—”

“Holy— just trust me on this, okay?”

“Why the shit should I trust you over God?”

“Did God come down to you personally and say that you’re going to Hell if you’re gay?”

“No, because the Bible exists for that!”

“No, it doesn’t!”

“Wh— you’ve never read the Bible once in your life, how would you know?”

Dennis takes a deep breath, still staring right into Mac’s eyes. “Mac,” he says, and Mac is starting to recognize that slow tone as dangerous, “if you’re going to Hell, I’m going to be there with you.”

Mac’s mouth falls open. “You— uh— you?”

“Yes, can we move past it?” Dennis asks, feigning irritation so well that even Mac is almost fooled. “If— and that’s a huge if— we go to Hell, we’ll be there, y’know, together and shit. And trust me, we’re not going to Hell.”

It’s not a question of who he trusts, it’s who he trusts more, God or Dennis. Mac’s made up his mind before he can even fully process it. Dennis was there when his dad was arrested, Dennis was there when the apartment burned to the ground, Dennis was there for everything. “You swear? On your life?”

If the rest of the gang were here, Dennis would act like he’s humoring Mac, but they’re alone and Dennis’s voice is filled with sincerity and maybe that’s the final hurdle, what erodes Mac’s hangups from mountains down to pebbles. “Promise.”

The beeping of the monitors fills the room for a moment, permeating what would otherwise be an almost-comfortable silence. Wordlessly, Mac grabs Dennis’s wrist again.

The pulse is stronger than it was before, and Mac falls asleep to the thrumming of Dennis’s heartbeat under his fingers.

“Where’s Dennis,” Dee rasps. “Where— my brother—” she coughs, and Mac is plunging back in before the seawater has a chance to leave her lips.

The water is so cold that it’s practically ice. Dennis is at the bottom, his clothes billowing around him. Mac reaches him easily, and then when he wraps an arm around Dennis’s waist, he can’t swim up.

He tries again, pushing off against what used to be the wall of the brig, but he only manages to get a foot away before he sinks once more, Dennis getting paler by the second. “Mac, come on!” Dee cries, her voice distorted and far-off. The surface is an impossible goal. Mac kicks off against the metal again, this time only getting a few inches away. He can tell that the blue hue to Dennis’s face isn’t just the water playing tricks on his eyes anymore, and, with more adrenaline in his veins than he’s ever felt, he kicks away from the wall once more.

Up above, the door closes, sealing them in semi-darkness. Mac’s lungs are burning like the fires of Hell, and he clings to Dennis’s lifeless body as he tries again to swim up. “Dennis,” he says, pushing the last vestiges of air out of his lungs, “Dennis, I’m sorry—”

“Mac!” someone calls, and he jerks upright. This is not his room, this is not his bed— “Dude, what the hell?”

Hospital. He’s in a hospital, and Dennis is next to him, looking at him with wide eyes and ruffled hair that hides the cut on his head well. Mac takes a breath, just to make sure that he’s not still drowning. “What?”

“Dude, you were all—” Dennis shuts his eyes and flops around for a second— “when you were asleep. You good?”

“Yeah, just— just a dream,” Mac tells him.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna— y’know, talk about it?” Dennis offers, like he’s unsure if Mac is gonna smack him or not.

“It was just a goddamn dream, dude, can you leave it alone?” Mac snaps. Dennis’s eyes harden, and Mac regrets it almost immediately.

“Sorry for caring, I guess,” Dennis drawls, his voice dripping with acid.

“Jesus, you’re such a drama queen.”

“I’m— was I the one who was flailing around in my sleep and moaning?”

“The fuck? I wasn’t moaning!” Mac insists, heat rising into his cheeks. “Why the hell would I be moaning in the middle of a goddamn nightmare?”

“Ha!” Dennis exclaims. “So it wasn’t just a dream!”

“Holy— I can’t do this with you right now,” Mac replies, turning over in the narrow bed so that he’s facing the wall instead of Dennis’s still-pale face. “Just leave it, Dennis. God.”

The silence makes Mac even more aware of Dennis’s body right next to his, and even though he can’t see him, Mac can tell that Dennis has crossed his arms and contorted his face into that I’m better than you even though I’m pissed at you expression. He flips back over to face Dennis. “Holy shit, fine, it was a nightmare, okay? I had a nightmare, where I couldn’t get you out of the water, and it sucked. Okay? You happy now?”

“Well— what the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

“Nothing! Just don’t say anything!”

“Fine!” Dennis says, because he’s a child and he just has to get the last word in. Jesus Christ.

It’s hard to stare angrily at a wall when there’s a hot person’s face in the way.

“You care about me enough to— to have nightmares about me?”

Mac’s expression shifts from pissed to incredulous. “What kind of fucked-up logic is that?!”

“You know what I mean, asshole!”

“Yes! Okay! I obviously— have you had your head up your ass— I bought you a goddamn RPG, dude!”

“You— you what?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “That was, uh. Supposed to be a surprise. For Valentine’s Day.”

“Uh. For— for me?” And there’s that glassy-eyed look again, brittle and fragile and burnt at the edges by something that Mac is just starting to find a name for.

“Yeah.”

“And how did you, um— how did you know that I wanted an RPG?”

“‘Cause I know you, man.” Mac smiles at Dennis, the sharp edges of his expression like a broken beer bottle. “Also, you casually mention RPGs, like, a weird amount.”

“That’s— that’s fair.”

“It won’t be coming ‘till February, though, so—”

“Mac, can I—” Dennis motions towards him with his fingers outstretched, jerky, like a marionette.

“Can you— can you what?”

“Don’t make me— can I kiss you again, goddamnit?”

“Well, if you’re gonna be like that—”

“Holy Christ, Mac—”

“Kidding! Kidding! Of— of course.” He says it as if his heart isn’t beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, as if he hasn’t been hoping for Dennis to kiss him for the past twenty-five years. “Yeah— just—”

Dennis’s lips press against his, hesitant and light, and the shadow of his fingers brush against Mac’s jaw. It’s quick and almost-chaste and everything that Mac thought it would be and more, and he thinks that yes, Dennis is right, gays don’t go to hell, because how could a sin feel this good? It would go against everything, against the fundamental orders of nature, for kissing another man— for kissing Dennis— to be sinful. He pulls back, and he can’t stop the sigh that escapes him. “Shit, man.”

“Yeah,” Dennis says, and when he grins, it reaches his eyes for the first time in an age. “That was— that was nice.”

“You wanna watch TV?” Mac asks, for lack of anything better (or just not totally, extraordinarily gay) to say, and Dennis’s face falls, but when Mac picks up his hand again, he nods.

“Don’t think you’re gonna get anything good, though.”

Mac makes a noise of assent as he picks up the remote and switches on the TV. “Wish we could get the DVDs and shit from Dee’s apartment. Wait, holy shit, what country are we even in?”

“Huh,” Dennis says, frowning. “I got no clue.”

“Didn’t you say that we were getting close to, like, Barcelona or some shit?”

“The Bahamas?”

“Yeah, same difference.”

“No, not same— holy shit! They have Thundergun!”

“Holy shit!” Mac exclaims, going back a channel. “Nice!”

All good things must come to an end, though, and this is proven by the door to Dennis’s room opening to reveal the rest of the gang. “Aw, shit, did you two bang in here?” Frank asks.

“What the— no!” Mac yells, heat rising to his cheeks again as Dennis cries, “No, we didn’t, Frank, you slut!”

“Jesus, no need to get so aggressive,” Dee says.

“It was a valid question,” Charlie adds. “We don’t wanna be in here if you guys spilled your— your fluids—”

“God!” Dennis yells. “What are you people even doing here?”

“We wanted to check on you, asshole!” Dee exclaims. Mac is about to protest, yell, call her a bird, and then he remembers how she asked about Dennis before she could get all the water out of her lungs and he shuts up.

Dennis has no such qualms. “You—”

“Let’s just watch Thundergun, okay?” Mac tells them. “Everybody, just watch Thundergun, and then maybe we’ll calm—”

“I don’t understand Italian, though!” Charlie yells.

“What the fuck— there’s no Italian in Thundergun, moron!” Dennis snaps.

“But it’s playing in Italian, so now who’s the moron!”

Dee rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Charlie, that’s Spanish!”

“I don’t understand Spanish either!”

“Holy shit, it’s not like we don’t know the words by heart anyway!” Mac yells. “Just shut up and watch the goddamn movie!”

“He’s got a point,” Frank says.

“Frank, haven’t I told you to never be on my side?”

“What? I’m just tryna help!”

“Frank, we’ve already established that you never help,” Dennis tells him.

Dee’s eyes widen. “Shut up! Shut up, the dong part is coming, and if you guys make me miss the dong part—”

“Dee, shut up, Thundergun is about to hang dong!” Dennis exclaims.

“Holy—”

“Shut up!”

“Jesus!”

John Thundergun hangs dong, and it is just as magnificent as every other time they’ve seen it. Except this time Mac is holding Dennis’s hand, so that probably makes it better.

By the end of the movie, Frank and Charlie have fallen asleep, both of them half on a chair and half on the bed, and Dee has elbowed her way to a spot in between Mac and the rail of the bed. “I don’t— I don’t think that this bed was built for five people,” Mac says, yawning.

Dennis turns the TV off as the opening credits of Downton Abbey roll. “Technically four, because Frank and Charlie’re on chairs, sort of.”

“Yeah, but with all my muscle—”

Dee snorts. “Your muscle is a joke.”

“Dee, I will—” a vicious yawn tears through his sentence— “I will beat you into little pieces.”

“Try me, bitch,” Dee says, sleep mellowing her voice.

“Can we do this in the morning?” Dennis asks. “For once, we don’t have Old Black Man—”

“Just Old Man,” Mac reminds him automatically.

“You’re right, we don’t have Old Man with us—”

“But he’s been replaced by Charlie and Frank, sort of,” Mac says.

“Shut up, Mac, you’re in the middle. They’re not at your feet,” Dee tells him.

“Whatever.”

Hesitantly, Mac slings an arm over Dennis’s stomach, pulling him closer. “That’s— that’s nice,” Dennis murmurs.

“Please don’t have gay sex next to me.”

“Dee, your presence alone is the biggest boner-killer ever.”

“You’re a boner.”

“Whatever.”

“‘Night, assholes.”

“G’night, Dee.”