#I’m like Doug from Up

[secretly-insane]

I have a bad habit of getting onto ao3 before I finish something (especially shows and movies). I really need to stop because by the time I get around to going back to the original piece of media it’s either been removed from Netflix or I’ve been exposed to so many spoilers that it’s just lost its interest-factor (although, to be fair, that had probably already happened, hence the desire for fanfiction).

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 1)

Summary: The reader receives an anonymous text from a new client needing an off the books patch job. However he's annoyingly good looking and the last thing you need is some ex-special ops guy hanging around. Unfortunately for you, Russell Shaw isn't the kind of guy to walk away when he knows something's wrong...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury

A/N: Contains minor spoilers for Tracker 1x12. Please enjoy the start of this new series! I'm not sure how long it will go but thanks for coming on this ride with me!

__________

Your ears perked up on Saturday morning when your phone buzzed on the coffee table before you. Not your everyday one but your one for work. You swiped it open, pursing your lips when you saw it was from an unknown number.

Need a patch job on a quilt. Doug recommended you as a good seamstress in the area.

Alright, well at least this guy knew one of your clients. Doug wasn’t a regular but you’d seen him once or twice over the years which meant the person on the other end wasn’t a cop most likely.

I can fit you in. More complicated the patch, the more it’ll cost.

Not an issue.

You hummed and stood up, grabbing your coffee mug along the way.

129 Edwards Ave in twenty minutes. Use the red back door.

You took a long sip and went over to the kitchen, tossing the rest down the sink, leaving the mug to be cleaned later. 

You just hoped this job wasn’t as bad as the last one.

Eighteen minutes later you heard the back door open and then silence, a moment’s hesitation as your new client entered what looked like a storage area. You flipped a light switch, illuminating the small enter sign over the doorway to the room you were prepping in. A few moments later there were heavy boots against the cement ground as he entered, turning to tile, your head lifting. 

A man in his forties, a quite handsome one at that, gave the small operating room a cursory glance before settling on you, determining you were the only one there. Meanwhile your gaze shot to his injured left arm, a gunshot from the looks of it. You only spotted one bloody bullet hole and figured that was the worst of it from the way he cradled his forearm.

“You the seamstress?” he asked quietly, scanning the counter full of medical equipment and metal table in the center of the room. 

“Take a seat,” you said, patting the table. You went to a sink and washed up, making sure to keep him in view at all times. He winced and struggled to get the coat off, finally managing and revealing a quick patch job had been done. After drying your hands, you snapped on some gloves, the man’s coat and overshirt now on the table behind him.

“Russell Shaw by the way,” he said.

“Y/N,” you said, carefully taking his forearm in one hand, the top of his muscular bicep in the other. You turned his arm slightly, Russell wincing again. “Looks like a through and through. We’ll do a quick x-ray to make sure there’s no shrapnel and then we’ll get you stitched up and I’ll send you home with some supplies and instructions to care for it. This your only injury?”

“Yeah. Doug said you were good.”

“I am,” you said, offering him a brief smile, he returned. “Do you have any PTSD? Going to come at me if I I need to use a scalpel?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m good with all that.”

You hummed, guiding him to lay back. Three minutes later you were pushing your x-ray machine aside and taking the lead vest away, Russell sitting upright. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

“You can ask, don’t mean I’ll answer, sweetie,” you said back, hanging up the vest and going to your laptop on the counter.

“How does one get into this line of work?” he asked.

“Asks the man that’s ex-special ops and does private contract gigs, not to mention killed probably three people minimum tonight.” You glanced over to him, Russell tilting his head. “I know who Doug is and what he does. Makes sense you do it too. You have blood under your fingernails and given the splatter patterns on your jeans, you had multiple different angled shots so multiple bodies you hit.”

“...And you don’t report that sort of thing?” he asked cautiously. You determined his x-ray looked good and washed up again, putting on more new gloves. By the time you were standing before him again, he looked nervous.

“On occasion. But only the monsters. You, you don’t strike me as a monster, Russell,” you said, wiping some antiseptic over his entry and exit wounds. He flinched but only slightly at the quick burn. A moment later you were giving him something to numb the area.

“Someone took Doug. Someone bad. They would have come back if I hadn’t done what needed to be done.” You wiped sterile gauze over his wound and then flushed it, Russell watching your graceful movements with interest.

“Like I said, not a monster.” You hummed as you worked, Russell fixated on you carefully cleaning and then pulling the skin back together, tying it up neatly. You wiped away the evidence of his blood and wrapped his bicep in thick gauze, taping it down so he could still get movement without worrying about it coming off.

You chucked your gloves in the trash and nodded back to the door behind you.

“There’s a shower in there and some brushes. Turn it on low, scrub yourself clean, under your nails too. Use the blue soap. When you’re done, throw everything away in the bin, including your bloody clothes. You leave your boots, anything you want to keep out here with me. There’s men’s sweats and some shirts on the shelf. By the time you’re done, your boots and other items will have no trace of wherever you’ve been. Got it?”

“I do like a woman that takes charge.” He smirked, sliding off the table and dropping slowly to kneel to unlace his shoes, still looking up at you. “Full service deal you got going here.”

“Yes it is and here’s a friendly reminder for my new client. You come anywhere near me with your dick out, I’ll make you regret being alive. Understand, sweetie?” you said, patting his cheek. “Off you go.”

“God damn, I love you,” he muttered under his breath. You rolled your eyes but smirked when your back was to him. Ten minutes later the room was clean and Russell exited the bathroom with damp, slicked back hair wearing a plain white t-shirt, black hanes sweat pants and white socks. You nodded to where his shoes sat on the end of the counter, Russell taking a seat in the chair nearby as he slipped them on.

After he checked he had his phone, keys and wallet, he raised himself to his feet, pulling out his wallet. 

“What do I owe you?”

“A thousand.” To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at that number. But like most of your clients, he didn’t have the cash on him, at least not that much. Russell smirked as he glanced back in the bathroom.

“Smart woman. You keep the evidence as ransom until your clients pay up. You won’t destroy that until after I pay, will you.” 

“Not until we get to know each other better do I do that sort of thing without payment. Seeing as you’re new and a friend of Doug’s, I’ll give you to the end of next week to pull it together. I offer payment plan options and other alternative forms of care if shit ever really hit the fan for you.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, putting down five hundred dollar bills. “I can bring the other half back here later today. Just need to run to an ATM.”

“Text me when you got the rest. I’ll send you a place to meet,” you said, nodding towards the door. He gave you a small salute and shook his head with a smile. 

Forty minutes later you were sitting at a table in the cafe three blocks over, happily sipping on your coffee while working your way through a cheese danish. You spotted Russell when he came in. He gave you a quick, adorably awkward wave and ordered himself a drink. A few minutes later he was sitting down across from you, a small cup and what appeared to be a banana muffin in hand.

“You’re a coffee snob aren’t you. This place is pricey,” he teased, his brow furrowing when he had a drink from his styrofoam cup. “Shit. That’s fucking good.”

“Beats whatever motel crap I’m sure you’re used to,” you said, his gaze hardening for a split second. “Sorry. I always tail my first time clients to make sure they aren’t…you know who. You know the Elkwood Lodge on route 8 is cleaner and cheaper than what you’re paying for now.”

“How would you know that?” he asked. You shrugged and simply grinned, taking another bite of danish. He licked his lips, pointing at the yet to be touched danish beside you. “Was that one for me?”

“God no. I fucking love danishes and these are incredible,” you said, finishing off the first and biting into the other.

“You are something else,” he said, smirking when he slid a white envelope across the table. You tucked it into your jacket pocket, Russell picking at his own muffin. “You ain’t going to check it’s all there?”

“You’re a smart man, Russell. I think you know not to screw me over.” He looked you up and down, earning a pointed response. “Keep that gutter mind to yourself.”

“If I’m in the gutter, you’re right there with me,” he said, absently rubbing his injured arm. “And uh, if it gets infected or I think it is, I should reach out?”

“Absolutely. That ain’t a normal injury you’re used to. Don’t play tough guy, tough guy.” He nodded, his body twisting ever so slightly towards a standing position. “Nope. Stay for at least five minutes, then you can go.”

“You really like telling me what to do, don’t you,” he grinned. 

“Russell.” Hss grin was wide before he took a long drag of coffee, humming as it went down. 

“What if I want to stay more than five minutes?” You paused mid-chew of your danish. “Come on, one conversation won’t kill you.”

“I don’t get involved with clients.”

“Alright. I respect that but this ain’t my end goal. I’m going to have a normal life someday. I make a pretty mean homebrew. Going to get some land, open up a brewery, have some food, make it a little family place everybody can enjoy. So that’s my goal. I sure as hell know working as a seamstress ain’t your end goal either. So again, what’s the harm in one conversation?”

You bit your bottom lip, Russell’s expression changing, ever so slightly. 

“Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered. “What-“

“Shut up,” you mumbled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your fucking face did. You don’t want to be a seamstress, do you? Can you not get out of your line of work?” You glanced out the window, even the wonderful flavors of the pastry doing nothing to help the unease in your gut. “I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped. You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Sorry. I…I’m just crabby because I didn’t have my morning coffee until just now.”

“Nice try.” You glared at him, his green eyes remarkably gentle. “I don’t leave my friends behind. Now either you tell me what’s going on or I’m going to poke around myself and I guarantee that’s going to be a lot more dangerous and you’ll just have to patch me up even more. What do you say?”

You stared at him and stared at him and stared at him for what felt like forever. Then you took out the envelope and handed it back to him, along with the five hundred in your purse. 

“Go buy me two more cheese danishes and a large caramel frappe to go. Then take me to your motel room. This is a long fucking story.”

__________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[satelitis]

— BIRDS OF A FEATHER ♱ jason todd x reader

->we should stick together

pairings — jason todd x fem!reader

© content/ trigger warning — r is insecure, but jason comes in clutch!!

dal yaps — this is dedicated to @ivyppoison i hope you feel better baby <3

requested? — yes/no

the birds chirped gleefully signaling the new day had started, y/n and jason were asleep comfortably in each others presence entangled with one another as the cheeky sunlight peered through the blinds.

y/n had stirred awake, letting out a soft yawn as she looked over jason being still asleep, his face shoved into a pillow. his cheek smooshed as he slept with his mouth open slightly. quiet snores also being heard from him. y/n smiled as she ran her fingers through the boys hair. eventually, she stopped to pet the puppy lying beside jason, named doug, after the dog from up.

“why’d you stop?” jason groaned, still half asleep.

“doug deserves attention too, jay.” y/n replied, scratching the puppy behind the ear. he rolled over, now wrapping his arms around y/ns waist, placing soft kisses along her neck.

y/n frowned slightly, she had been thinking recently about jason, but the negative side of those thoughts got the better of her,

“jay, am i good enough for you?” she asked him, his head buried in her neck. he lifted up his head to look her in the eyes.

“baby, you’re more than ‘good enough’ you’re perfect for me, more than,” he replied, “why would you think otherwise?” he asked, his face now resembling that of a puppy. why would you ever think so low of yourself? he wondered. you were perfect in his eyes. you lit up his world more than every single light could. you made it so much better and he couldn’t even imagine a world without you in it, by his side.

“well, i’ve just been thinking, im not as pretty as those other girls, i’m quite the opposite actually, and i’m annoying…” she started, jason frowned. “i talk too much, and i just feel like i’m not enough for you,” she said.

“baby, you are way more gorgeous than any girl in gotham or anywhere else,” he started as he brought his hands up to her cheeks, cupping them. “and i love to hear you talk, your voice is like music to my ears and it’s so amazing hearing what you have to say.” he reassured.

y/n smiled as jason continued to reassure her, “now,” he added, “repeat after me.” he demanded. “i am jason todd’s awesome girlfriend and no one is better than me, and i’m so perfect for him.” he said. y/n let out a soft laugh.

“jayyy.” she trailed.

“nuh uh.” he tsked, wagging his finger at her. “say it.” he pouted. y/n sighed.

. “i am jason todd’s awesome girlfriend and no one is better than me, and i’m so perfect for him.” the brightest smile appeared on jason’s face.

“that’s my perfect girl.” he squeezed her shoulders reassuringly.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 5

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4

Eddie’s just dropped his response in the requested copy of Romeo and Juliet. He’d looked furtively around the library, trying to see if anyone was paying him an abnormal level of attention.

No one even looks up.

There’s a mousy girl in the corner reading a comic book, some band girl muttering to herself as she frantically pulls books off the shelf, and Nancy Wheeler writing, fast enough that Eddie’s surprised the lead of her pencil doesn’t snap clean off.

Could it be her?

Eddie squints at her, trying to look past her frizzy hair and prissy face to what must be hidden underneath. Before he finds any clarity, she looks up from the page in front of her, already scowling before she meets Eddie’s gaze.

Eddie startles, damn-near sprinting out of the library, his smoker’s lungs wheezing hard enough to damn-near expel themselves from his lungs.

No way in hell is it Wheeler—she’s way too scary, and besides, no one’s ever accused her of being an athlete. That band girl, maybe? She looked feisty enough to kick ass at organized sports-ball.

The secret’s burning a hole through his heart and he wants, no, needs, to tell someone.

Eddie feels deranged with it, almost manic as he rushes to find someone, anyone, he can talk to. Hell, right now he’d take Hagan if he didn’t think the dude would punch him in the face.

Luckily, he smacks into Gareth before anything gets that dire. The kid’s obviously rushing through the parking lot to catch the bus before it leaves without him, stranding him at the school before the weekend can truly start.

“Dude—”  he stutters out as Eddie latches onto both of his shoulders and begins shaking him about. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Gareth smacks him off, and Eddie stumbles back, almost buzzing with the frenetic energy built up from weeks of getting love letters in his locker and not being able to tell a soul. Eddie grabs onto him again and just keeps shaking, lest his soul quiver right out of his body. “I can’t keep it in anymore, man,” Eddie says, and he can tell from the bug-eyed look on the other boy’s face that he’s not picking up what Eddie’s putting down. “I’ve gotten four letters, Gare-Bear, four!”

He enunciates the last word with an even harder shake until Eddie can hear his teeth clack together. Gareth makes an unholy noise, like a cat submerged in bathwater, and damn-near claws Eddie’s face off in his attempts to get away. Eddie ends up standing in the parking lot, still holding the shoulders of Gareth’s flannel up despite there no longer being a body in it.

“And each one is sweeter than the last!” Eddie cries, maliciously dropping the flannel into a puddle.

Gareth squawks, bending down to scoop his outerwear up from the ground and twist it until some of the water sops out of it and back to the pavement from whence it came. He’s not looking at Eddie at all. God, he knew he should have picked Doug.

“So, why are you telling me about it?” Gareth gripes.

Left unspoken, but patently obvious between them, is that Jeff, Eddie’s usual secret keeper, is entirely absent. Eddie twirls one of his own curls, bringing it up to shield the blush that’s no doubt blooming on his face as he admits, “Jeff would make fun of me.”

Besides, Jeff’s been weird all day, eyes darting away from Eddie’s like he’s got some sort of disease that might be catching.

He doesn’t want to talk to Jeff right now.

Giving it up as a bad job, Gareth slings his sopping flannel over one shoulder with the beleaguered sigh of a single mother and finally meets Eddie’s eyes.

“Dude,” he says, voice that of someone delivering a deadly blow. “I’m going to make fun of you.”

Eddie can feel himself pouting, does absolutely nothing to try to stop it as he mutters, “knew I should’ve confided in Hagan,” too quietly for Gareth to hear.

“Now, where are these stupid letters?”

Eddie throws his hands up and takes two showily large steps back as he declares, “well, I’m not going to show you now!”

“Oh, Jeff,” Gareth calls, all sing-songy and sly.

Eddie lunges forward to slam his palm over Gareth’s mouth even though Jeff had disappeared from the school long ago. With his hands so close already, he’s hard-pressed to stop himself from wringing Gareth’s scrawny neck.

Before he knows it, Eddie finds himself settled in his room, the letters strewn about Eddie’s unmade bed.

Gareth reads them all; he laughs at all the parts that are sweetest, and despite being born an only child, Eddie can feel himself developing one hell of a Cain instinct. Maybe Cain was actually a cool guy, and Abel drove him to it with his incessant wheedling.

Eddie wouldn’t know; he’s never read the bible.

“Dude, she’s a jock?” Gareth asks, peering down at the letter with a level of glee Eddie’s never seen on the other boy’s face.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Eddie asks, taking sadistic enjoyment in the way Gareth’s nose wrinkles with disgust. He rips—gently!—the letter out of Gareth’s hands and gathers them all back together, intent to hide them from any more prying eyes.

“I was reading that!”

“Girls can do sports,” Eddie replies snootily, tucking the letters away beneath his pillow. “And besides, there’s always cheerleaders.”

All that does is make Gareth start laughing again. “You think you can bag a cheerleader?”

He raises his hand threateningly, one wrong word from smacking that look off his face, the way Eddie’s dad had always threatened. “Do you want to walk home?” Eddie demands.

Eddie’s doubtful it was the threat that got Gareth to stop laughing—they both know they’ll spend the rest of the evening eating stale cereal and watching whatever’s on TV before falling asleep in Eddie’s small bed—but the silence is still welcome.

It lasts a solid three seconds before Gareth asks, “you’re not afraid it’s all a joke?”

Eddie’s going to kill him.

***

The day’s been long despite Steve, Chrissy, and Jeff all skipping first period. Still, nothing could stop him from taking precious time out of his weekend to pick up any notes Eddie might have written.

It’s becoming normal now, to skulk behind Chrissy through the library as she picks up notes. What’s that saying about the third time being a pattern? And there, tucked reverently into a copy of Romeo and Juliet—Chrissy’s idea, not his—is an envelope with Secret Admirer written across it in bold, cursive font. Like Eddie’d gone out and gotten a quill and ink pot just for the occasion.

The ink’s so black, it still looks wet, but when Steve caresses the letters, they don’t even smudge. They both stare down at it where it’s still clutched between Chrissy’s fingers. Chrissy, ever the good friend, waits for his next move.

“Want to come over?” he asks, tired of impersonal whispers in quiet libraries. He wants a girl’s night, the way he and Carol used to before she’d started dating Tommy and everything had gotten so stilted. “I can paint your nails.”

Chrissy doesn’t even hesitate. She’s beaming as she puts the envelope carefully into her book bag, grabs his arm, and drags him out of the room.

She doggedly follows his car all the way home to his big empty house, her headlights beaming light and warmth straight into his heart.

The porch light’s on in front of his house, a beacon leading him home from his rapidly darkening driveway. He always leaves it on, something about its cheerful light making his dark house seem more welcoming, even more so now that he’s got a friend parking her car right behind his.

He’s glad not to get run out of town, but more than that, he’s grateful that it was all just a mistake, that he doesn’t need to let another friendship fizzle out into nothing.

“Are your parents home?” she asks as she bounces out of her car and up to his side.

“Almost never,” Steve replies, not turning back to her, unwilling to see the expression on her face as he leads her to the front door and ushers her inside once it’s unlocked. 

He slides his shoes off, and she copies his movements before following him up the stairs. They settle onto his bed, and he’s tempted to make a wise-crack about what boyfriends and girlfriends usually do in beds, but he’s a little afraid she might slap him, so all he says is, “did you bring it?”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, “of course I brought it.”

She’s already made herself comfortable laying on her stomach, but she dutifully reaches toward the ground to rifle through her bag and pull the envelope that’s been burning a hole in it free. Steve descends on it like a drowning man on land.

He lays on his stomach beside her, tempted to kick his feet and twirl his hair as he slots his finger into the envelope and opens it with the precision born from years of practice opening his parents’ mail.

It’s only as he pulls the tab open that he notices it’s not an envelope at all. Eddie had cleverly folded the note he’d written into the shape of an envelope, tucking the tab into it to keep it closed. He smooths the creases out and devours the words.

       Secret Admirer,

       I want to learn everything about you– the color of your eyes, how your lips curve when you smile, how soft your hands are, the sound of your laughter. But more than that, I want to know what you love, along with all of your deepest wants and needs. You’ve piqued my curiosity with your scant answers. I can’t help but want more.

       Unfortunately, there’s not enough room on the page for the unrelenting number of questions flooding my mind. I know the point of being a secret admirer is that it’s a secret, but I hope that if you really do like me, you won’t stay secret for long.

       I came up with a game I think could be fun! I’ve filled mine out already, for you to keep. Recopy it onto a separate sheet and return it with your next note. That way I get to keep your answers and you can have mine. I also wrote little notes on the back for some of them. I couldn’t help myself.

       Yours,

       Eddie

And there, tucked behind the envelope is a notecard, Eddie’s usual sloppy handwriting covering it with that same, black ink. But he’s circled his answers in red, and added little numbers next to some of them.

       ||Rock or Pop 1 || Board Games or Sports Games 2 || Early Bird or Night Owl || Reading Or TV || Big Spoon or Little Spoon 3 || Outer Space or The Ocean 4 || Art or History || Alcohol or Weed 5 || Cats or Dogs || Holding Hands or First Kiss 6 || Winter or Summer || Grease or Star Wars || Gold or Silver || Halloween or New Year’s Eve || Vampires or Werewolves 7 || Drive-In or Movie Theater || Back Seat or Under the Bleachers 8 || Cuddling or Dancing || Slides or Swings 9 ||

Steve flips it over and finds more little numbers in red, each with a corresponding blurb.

       1. Pop is fun if you’re into that, but nothing beats a good guitar riff.

       2. I know you’re into sports, sweetheart, but come on, board games are the obvious winner.

       3. If you prefer being the big spoon, I’m willing to compromise <3

       4. If you pick the ocean, then you’re braver than me! That’s a body of water you can’t even see the bottom of! How are you cool with that?

       5. If you know me, and it really seems like you do, then my answer here is obvious.

       6. I bet you’ve got really nice hands, sweetheart. Would love to feel them in mine someday.

       7. Werewolves are cool, too, but come on, vampires fit my aesthetic way better.

       8. Under the bleachers would probably be cool, too, but my van’s a lot warmer (does that count as a backseat?)

       9. I was always that kid who would go down the slide and pretend there was a dragon chasing me, what about you?

Steve smiles down at the card and all the secrets it holds.

“Aww, that’s so cute!” Chrissy says.

Steve, for the first time, gets the inexplicable urge to hide Eddie’s words behind his hands. He doesn’t because that would be insane, and also she’s already seen it. So, all he says is, “help me respond?”

She does.

       Eddie —

       I don’t love like you do, not so easily and with my whole heart. But I love my best friend, and I like a whole lot more—hopefully that’s enough.

       I’m just as greedy for answers as you are. I want to write all your answers down on flash cards, study them like you might test me on them. If you do, I’m determined to get an A+.

       I hope my own answers satisfy, even if they don’t include my face, my smile, or my name. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours. I could fall into your eyes and die happy.

       Yours, Always,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. This time, put your reply in The Anatomy and Physiology textbook, right next to the diagram of the human heart.

Chrissy tears up at the bit about his best friend, but luckily doesn’t comment, just keeps spinning his yarn into gold. She dutifully re-writes the answer card as well, letting Steve circle his own answers with her pretty pink pen as she peers over her shoulder.

“It’s kind of funny how many of your answers are opposites,” Chrissy says, once they’re done.

Steve frowns, staring between both cards. She’s right; between all the questions, they’ve got three in common: they both chose holding hands over first kisses, drive-ins over movie theaters, and cuddling over dancing.

It’s not much to build a relationship on.

“Yeah, funny,” Steve replies, trying for chill but his voice comes out all wrong.

“Steve?” Chrissy asks, sounding hesitant herself now. “None of that matters, you know that right?”

Steve doesn’t respond; he’s too busy looking between each filled-out card, debating whether changing some of his answers might be for the best.

As if she can sense his thoughts, Chrissy snatches them both from his hands.

“Hey!”

He goes to snatch them back, but she’s pushed them behind her, glare fierce enough to give him pause. “None of that matters,” she says, voice firm. “You really think whether you like gold or silver better is a deal-breaker for a relationship?”

She’s right, that’s not what’s doomed this whole thing before it’s even started—it’s Steve. Steve, who’s a boy, and a jock, and not very bright.

He’s always the problem.

“You hear me, Steve?” Chrissy asks. She’s leaning toward him now, eyes blazing with a conviction he doesn’t quite understand. “You’re perfect just the way you are, okay?”

His throat’s all clogged up so he just nods, looking down at her hands where they’re clutching tightly enough to his comforter that the beds of her nails turn pink, and her knuckles bleach white.

She’s got thin, pretty fingers, and jagged nails. These are the hands that can write letters Eddie will want to read; it’s got nothing to do with silver, or gold, or any of that shit.

It’s Steve.

“Did you really want to paint my nails?” Chrissy asks, biting her lip and not meeting his eyes.

Steve’s up off the bed in an instant, ready for the distraction she’s handed him. He rifles around in the bathroom and comes back with a crate of nail polish which he immediately shoves into her chest with enough gusto that she makes a little oof! noise.

“Pick your poison,” Steve says, watching as her eyes grow wider with every new color she picks up.

“You have so many,” she breathes, touching the small glass bottles almost reverently before picking up a pale pink color that suits her. “What about this one?”

She looks so unsure, like his opinion on her choice of nail polish is the most important thing in the world. Steve’s heart squeezes beneath his ribcage. “‘course, Chris.”

He settles onto the bed, legs criss-crossed. He waits for Chrissy to match his pose before grabbing her hand. She curls her fingers into a fist, a breath shuddering out of her before she forces her hand back open.

Steve doesn’t comment on the ragged state her nails are in. He just grabs a nail file from the crate and smooths them down as best he can. He buffs her nails out before finally grabbing her chosen color and gives the bottle a shake.

The first coat goes on quick, Chrissy watching each flick of the brush like it’s fascinating.

“You’re really good at this,” she says, sounding shocked.

Steve presses her hands down on the bed to keep them still as the first coat dries. “Thanks,” he replies, still not looking up at her. “I used to do Carol’s like every week.”

There’s a silence in the room now that feels one step to the left of stilted. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he picks up her hand and blows on the nails like that will speed anything up at all.

“Can I do yours next?”

At that, Steve finally looks up from Chrissy’s nails to meet her eyes. She’s biting her lip, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

“Do you want to?” Steve asks.

No one’s ever painted his nails before, not even Carol. But in the face of Chrissy’s earnest, nervous expression, he can’t say no.

That’s how he finds himself at school on Monday with bright yellow nail polish painted on each of his fingers, the edges already chipped from where he couldn’t stop himself from picking at it.

No one says a thing.

PART 6

[annecoulmanross]

So it's been a while. But I couldn't let James Fitzjames Finding Day pass without some celebration—thank you Doug Stenton, Stephen Fratpietro, and Robert W. Park for giving us this wonderful and terrible knowledge. I've made an emotional playlist of all of us currently experiencing whatever emotion this is:

Selected lyrics for each song included below the cut!

Strange Ships | PHILDEL

Strange ships won’t let me sail out Passed by the ice and stone now

2. I, Carrion (Icarian) | Hozier

If the wind turns, if I hit a squall Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me

3. Howling | Wild Rivers

Howling out here for the morning light I can’t sing no more

4. The Yawning Grave | Lord Huron

I tried to warn you when you were a child I told you not to get lost in the wild I sent omens and all kinds of signs I taught you melodies, poems, and rhymes

5. Sax Rohmer #1 | The Mountain Goats

Ships loose from their grins, capsize and then they’re gone Sailors with no captains watch a while and then move on

6. Long Wave | Dessa

Starve the guard dog And see what hunger does It’s easy when we’re well fed To talk of love

7. Achilles Come Down | Gang of Youths

Throw yourself into the unknown, With pace and a fury defiant Clothe yourself in beauty untold, And see life as a means to a triumph

8. Eat You Alive | The Oh Hellos

I’ve seen the true face of the things you call life The song of the siren that holds your desire Death, she is cunning and clever as hell And she’ll eat you alive

9. My Ego Dies At The End | Jensen McRae

Leave my body and my ego early Kill it kind with a surgeon’s mercy Claim I put it out of its misery

10. Who We Are | Hozier

Darling, we sacrificed We gave our time to something undefined This phantom life sharpens like an image But it sharpens like a knife

11. Devourer | Aidoneus

Beams of light, show me how to feel Light the gloam, find my Achilles heel I will welcome my mortality—let me go

12. Sound the Bells | Dessa

Go lift your sails up For one last swell Go lift yourselves up To sound the bells

13. Your Bones | Of Monsters and Men

Said goodbye to you my friend As the fire spread All that’s left are your bones That will soon sink like stones

14. Wildflower and Barley | Hozier, Allison Russell

This year, I swear it will be buried in actions This year, I swear it will be buried in words Some close to the surface, some close to the casket I feel as useful as dirt, put my body to work

15. These Bones | Azrai, Momo O’brien

It’s a savage sea we’re made to roam Every tide can turn to haunt us But the ocean reaches past these ghosts And I will always sail for more

16. By Way Of Sorrow | Cry Cry Cry

You have come by way of sorrow You have come by way of tears You’ll reach your destiny Meant to find you all these years

17. Gracestone | PHILDEL

When I open my final door I’m gonna sail much wilder seas than your ships were built for I’m turning into dust across that cove You know, I have known enough to not feel owed

18. Glowing | The Oh Hellos

You’ll rise, like land, pulled up at the sound of some strange commandment A moon alight, reflecting fully And I guess it would feel like rebirth, out of some kind of dying To see yourself so glowing

[ladykailitha]

Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate Part 2

I am absolutely thrilled with how well the first chapter did. Thank you everyone for your support. If you requested to be on the tag list and aren't that means I ran out of room and so so sorry.

You can follow me or the tag #knight protectorate au, as that is the tag I will be using for the series I do with this verse. I hope that helps!

Here we get Steve to the rescue and Eddie instantly heart-eyes. Poor Jeff.

Part 1

~

Steve was getting more push back then he thought he would, but at the same time it was from the people he was expecting.

“Admit it,” Carol said, “you know I’m right. The only reason Tammy is involved in any thing music related is because Mummy Dearest is paying for it all. Her singing is horrible.”

Steve tried to hide his smile, but he really couldn’t.

“See?” she shrieked in glee. “I just don’t know why you won’t let me tell her. Someone needs to before she gets into her head she’s going to be famous or some shit.”

“Because it wouldn’t do anything but make her mad,” he reasoned. “Then she’d tell her mom, and her mom would tell your mom and your mom would ground your ass because they are in the same golfing club or some shit.”

Carol blinked at him for a moment or two and then shrugged. “Yeah, all right. You have a point. But I can still mock her behind her back, right?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed.

“Just keep it between us, yeah?”

She tilted her head to the side and then shrugged. “I guess I could do that.”

He heaved a sigh of relief and was just grateful for the smallest concession she was willing to make.

Everyone knew Carol was still saying shit, but at least she was only saying it to Steve.

“God, Abby,” Nicole whined, “where did you get that dress the trash bin behind Melvand’s?” She laughed as Abby tugged on her the hem of her denim dress. It was wrinkled in that way denim will some times get when it’s put into shapes it wasn’t meant for.

“Fuck off, Nicole,” Steve barked. “You have a dress just like it, it’s just Levi instead of some off brand.”

Nicole’s jaw dropped and whirled on Steve. “Is this the thanks I get for finding that little creep for you?”

Steve raised his eyebrow in disdain. “Helping a guy out doesn’t mean you get to shit on everyone else. She isn’t hurting you. She’s just walking in the hall. And for fuck’s sake, she’s a freshman. We’re all gross at that age. Give it up.”

Nicole’s jaw clicked shut and she turned on her heel, running away. The gathered crowd laughed at her retreating form.

“It’s not funny, assholes,” he huffed. “Laughing at Abby being bullied is the same as laughing at Nicole getting told off for it. It’s still rude.”

The hall went deathly quiet.

Tommy came bounding up to Steve and Carol. “Larry Wiggins just got laid out by Munson trying to hassle him out of some dope.”

Steve grimaced. “Everyone knows that Munson doesn’t sell anything hard on school property. He likes avoiding felony charges.”

Tommy grinned, bouncing on the pads of his toes. “That’s what makes it so hilarious. Munson doesn’t even deal on Tuesdays so he didn’t even have weed to offer him to back off.”

“So Larry takes a swing at Munson and gets flattened for it?” Steve guessed with a heavy sigh.

“Yup!”

Carol giggled as Steve sighed again.

“One of these days a football player is going to knock that guy’s pearly whites out,” he said, shaking his head.

“Oohhh...” Tommy said wincing, pulling his arms up to his chest. “That would be ug-lee!”

Steve hummed his agreement.

~

Look, despite what Eddie’s teachers thought, he wasn’t stupid. After the incident with Wiggins on the basketball team, he had refused to do deals alone.

But then meathead jocks barely used their brains to drool, like alone think.

Eddie was on his way to his picnic table where Doug had been waiting for him when this football player came out of literal nowhere to slam him against a tree.

Eddie’s head swam as he tried to squeeze away his sudden double vision. “What the fuck, man?”

When he could see the captain of the football team, Bobby Vincent, was grabbing him by the collar and shoving him up against the tree.

Bobby pulled out a nearly empty baggie of weed. “You shorted me, asshole. You call this a gram?”

“It was when I sold it to you,” Eddie insisted, hands coming up to grab Bobby’s hand at his throat. “I don’t short. It’s bad for business.” He certainly didn’t short people who throw him around like a rag doll for crying out loud. He didn’t have a death wish.

“You’re going to give me a replacement for free,” Bobby sneered, “aren’t you, pretty boy?”

Eddie tried to yank on the football player’s hand to get him to release him, but the white knuckle grip refused to budge. “I can’t give you shit, man. My supplier would kill me. I’ve got more to think about then just one customer.”

He could see the punch coming and knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. He closed his eyes against the pain he knew was coming.

But the pain never came. He peeked out of one eye and was shocked to see Steve Harrington holding meathead’s wrist. They were both stock still. Which Eddie couldn’t figure it out, he had to open his other eye to see the full tableau in front of him.

Steve had a grip on Bobby’s wrist, that was certainly true, but that wasn’t what had the football player by the short and curlies. Oh no. In Steve’s other hand was a small but very deadly pocket knife. A knife that was current pressed to the ribs on the side of the raised arm. Suddenly Eddie was feeling weak in the knees for a very different reason.

“Hey, Bobby,” Steve said cheerfully, “you weren’t going to hit someone because you’re too shit poor to buy your own weed, were you?”

Bobby looked down at the knife in Steve’s hands and then back up at his face. Bobby snarled and moved to wrench his hand out of Steve’s grasp, but the blade dug deeper. He stopped again and looked over at Eddie who was just as shocked he was at the whole thing.

Like where the fuck did Steve get that knife and why was he carrying it in the first place?

“You going to stick up for this trash, Harrington?” Bobby hissed. “Wheeler made you soft.”

Eddie and Steve both look down at the knife in Steve’s hand and then back up at the football player.

“Just because I’ve been putting my foot down more on the bullying lately,” Steve said, pressing the knife a little further causing Bobby to wince, “doesn’t mean that this is new. I’ve always called you assholes out on it, but now I’m doing something about it. So why don’t you run along and tell all your friends that the king has returned.”

Bobby’s eyes went wide and he nodded. Steve released the wrist first and then stepped back. He waved the knife, indicating Bobby should get a move on and he did. He ran like hell.

“Marry me!” Eddie squeaked as his knees buckled in relief.

Steve dropped the knife and surged forward to catch him before he hit the ground. Just then Jeff showed up and stared at them for a moment.

“Uhh...” he muttered. “Did I miss something?” His tongue worried one of the brackets on his braces as both Eddie and Steve turned to him.

Steve turned a bright shade of red when he realized how this might look to someone else. He helped Eddie get his feet under him and then took a step back. He ran his fingers through his hair and side-eyed Eddie.

“Maybe ask a guy on a date first, yeah?” he murmured before taking off, scooping up the knife up on his way out. Leaving behind two very confused metalheads in his wake.

Well, one confused metalhead and one confused and horny metalhead.

Jeff turned to Eddie. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” He jutted his thumb at the space in the trees that Steve had vanished into.

So Eddie told him.

“And um... I didn’t get my ass beat so...our King is some flavor of queer?” He meant that as a statement, but it came out as more of a question, because holy fuck that was crazy to think about.

Jeff looked at him for a long moment. “I understand you are currently having a gay panic right now, but um...shouldn’t you be more concerned with the fact that he had that knife on him in the first place? Because seriously, does Steve Harrington seem the type to be carrying around any kind of weapon?”

Eddie blinked a couple of times before he turned to look down the path both jocks had taken with a tinge more fear then he had before.

“That is a fair question, Sir Jeffrey,” he agreed. “But as it has saved this lowly jester’s ass, let’s give our king a pass, shall we?”

Jeff licked his lips slowly and then nodded. Because whatever happened to Steve that frightened him enough to start carrying a knife to school with him, he would much rather not know.

~

News spread fast. Steve Harrington was not to be trifled with and if you were caught bullying, he would make it his problem.

The faculty noticed, because how could they not. When someone makes it their one man mission to make the school safe for everyone, it wasn’t hard to see the changes wrought.

Only soon it wasn’t just Steve. The group that had included Nicole, Tina, Carol, and Tommy H. who were once the worst of the worst would patrol the halls between classes.

Eddie and his band of Freaks and Nerds were more than a little shocked when they were included in the protection. Because let’s face it, even other marginalized groups tended to push him and his friends around.

Well they tried. A couple of well aimed punches and threats of not selling to them or their friends usually got them to back off. But this was real protection, not just a cat puffing up his fur to look bigger and meaner than he was.

Hawkins High had an honest to Satan knight protectorate. Fuck.

Eddie thought those were only existed in fantasy novels and D&D campaigns. And if there was a gang of knights errant in Eddie’s next campaign with the names, Thom, Stephan, Nicolette, Caroline, and Christina, that was between him and the members of the Hellfire Club and no one else.

He thought he was going to catch shit for that from his friends, but apparently Sir Steve had won over their hearts as well.

However it was only a matter of time before the bullies got creative. Because some people just like to torture they find inferior.

They would hip check their targets into the lockers, always with a “Whoops!” and a sneer. They would knock their shoulders into them with a “Watch it!” and a smirk. They would whack books and lunch trays out their hands with a “Sorry...” and a grin.

Steve’s merry band would always check on the victim, but they really couldn’t say shit, because it could have been an accident. Though really, they weren’t fooling anyone but the teachers.

Eddie could see it coming to a head sooner rather than later and god, he hoped he got to witness it first hand.

~

Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @gringa-rae-jepsen @bluelightsinthevoid @mamafaithful @allmyworldsendwithtears @xxbottlecapx

10- @sadisticaltarts @yeahhhh-suga @ohimamarigold @imamixofeverthing @samsoble

[zepskies]

Every Second Counts - Part 3

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: *Deep breaths* Are you ready? 😉

Word Count: 4.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Russell, perilous situations, violence, character death, and another (literal) cliffhanger…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 3: "Timer Starts Now"

As he drove away from the museum, Colter could see it even more clearly. 

“You like her,” he said, giving his older brother a smile. 

Russell glanced at him, then rolled his eyes. 

“Focus on the road,” he said. 

“Just admit it. You like her,” Colter smirked. “And the fact that she called you for help isn’t a coincidence.”

Russell made a sound of annoyance and shook his head. At this point, he knew Colter wasn’t going to drop the subject.

“All right, we went out on one date,” Russell held up a finger. “It was fun, but we agreed that I’m just not relationship material.”

Colter sobered at that, at the wry tone of his voice. It sounded like Russell liked you even more than he was willing to admit.

“Do you have a timeline on that brewery?” Colter asked.

Russell chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m just a few dollars short on that one.”

He stared out the window for a while, but he eventually turned back to his brother.

“She called me because her brother’s a vet. Because I know what it’s like to deal with the assimilation process, coming back to civilian life. Trying to figure out where you belong, you know?” he said.

“You think you’ve assimilated?” Colter asked.

Russell shrugged. “Best I know how, anyway.”

“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out. 

Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”

That created a kind of tension in the car. A call from Bobby, Colter’s analyst, mercifully broke the silence. He’d gotten some useful information on Eddie Mendez, the man Charlie was supposedly working with, or for.

“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”

“All right, thanks, Bobby,” Colter said.

Great, Russell shook his head. Just what had your brother gotten himself into?

They were getting closer to the bar, and it mentally brought him back to his date with you.

Okay, maybe he did like you. But he also respected and understood your reasons for cutting things short that night. Usually, he was okay with being in a new town every other week, the occasional one-night stands, the skeevy motel rooms and the fast food. It was all with a goal in mind, and that made the hustle easier.

He’d started to wonder though, what it would be like to set down roots somewhere. Doug made it work with his wife and still did his contract work, even if there were some major pros and cons to that too…

Russell was only broken out of his thoughts when he got a call himself, from Dory. He answered it and held the phone to his ear.

“Hey, D. What’s up?” he asked.

“Russell, something’s wrong,” she said. Her voice was panicked.

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “What? What happened?”

The more he listened, the more his eyes widened in shock. He looked to his brother.

“Colter, turn around. Now.”

Russell and Colter arrived back at your house, where Dory was parked out front. She came out of the safety of her car when she saw them. Russell got to her first. He laid a hand on her shoulder in the driveway.

“What happened?” he asked. 

She tearfully explained that she found your purse in the bushes, but your phone was missing. She had just picked up your call when it suddenly cut off. 

“But I heard her scream,” Dory said, with a stifled breath.

Russell’s mood darkened in response, and the longer he took in the scene. He looked over at Colter, who also wore a frown. 

The tracker examined your car and driveway first. Already he found signs of struggle. He noticed a couple pieces of dark glass on the pavement, and when he scrutinized his surroundings further, he picked your broken phone out of the grass. The screen was cracked beyond repair.

Next, he climbed the three short steps of the porch, up to the front door of the house. There were marks on the doorknob, likely scratched by a key. He spotted the Ring Camera next.

Good. He took it right off the wall.  

“Do you have her keys there?” he asked his sister. Dory handed them to him and he let himself in. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

The three of them entered your house and found it dark and empty. Colter switched the lights on and got to work, after going back to grab his laptop from the car.

Russell stayed with his sister on the couch, a supportive hand on her back. He tried to shove his anger and upset deeper below the surface.

Meanwhile, Colter had Bobby retrieve the data from the camera. Within a few minutes, he sent Colter a video file, which Colter then played on his laptop. The three of them watched you approach the door.

Someone with a man’s build grabbed you from behind, wearing dark clothes and a mask that obscured his face. You screamed and tried to fight, but the man dragged you away as you struggled.

Russell’s frown deepened as his body tensed with anger again, his jaw ticking as it clenched. And then came the self-loathing.

Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.

Dory covered her trembling mouth and dissolved into tears. Russell tucked her against his side, rubbing her arm. Colter laid a hand on her shoulder as well, but he continued to analyze the footage. He couldn’t make out the attacker’s face with the mask he was wearing, but Colter saw a blue sedan in the background. It peeled off after you were hauled off-screen.  

“Why would they take her? What the hell is Charlie into?” Dory said. She sniffled and wiped at her face.

“To keep her quiet after she started digging into his disappearance, possibly. Or for leverage against him,” Colter said, leveling her with honesty. “Someone doesn’t want us to find Charlie. I’m betting it’s whoever he’s working for.”

He thought it was safer if he didn’t tell his sister exactly who Charlie’s employer was.  

Dory shook her head in worry. “We need to call the police.”

Colter shared a grim look with his brother. He knew Russell understood the score here. 

“If we get the police involved, it’s at least a 50% chance that whoever has her and Charlie…will kill both of them,” Colter said. Dory sucked in a trembling breath. 

“Our best bet is to keep digging,” Colter said.

“Let’s go,” Russell said, nodding at him. He stood, parting from his sister with a hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Dory asked. She got up to her feet along with her brothers.

“Howley’s. It’s our only lead on Charlie’s employer,” Colter replied. 

“Okay, but wait—” Dory reached out for Russell’s arm. It was a reflex as she tried to wrap her mind around all of this. 

Russell grasped her shoulders gently enough, but he made sure she saw the sense of urgency in his eyes.

“We don’t have time,” he said. “From here on out, every second counts.” 

After a beat, Dory nodded in acceptance. She let go of his jacket. 

“Okay, keep me updated.”

“Will do,” he said, and he swiftly followed Colter out the door.

The brothers drove in silence to the bar. Colter noted his brother’s tension, and the grim set to his jaw. 

“Hey,” Colter said, earning Russell’s attention. Colter gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her. We’ll find both of them.”

Russell exhaled. “Yeah.”  

Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.

Once they got back to Howley’s, they started by questioning the bartender about Eddie Mendez. 

“He’s not here. But that’s a couple of his friends over there,” the bartender said. He pointed them in the direction of a couple of guys drinking near the back. Three of them were sitting at a table playing cards. 

Russell recognized two of them. One was the same guy who made the mistake of hassling you by the pool table. He’d gotten a bloody nose for his trouble. Russell smirked at the memory. 

“Pete, make a fucking move already,” said one of the guy’s buddies.

Russell caught it as he and Colter approached them. This time, Pete seemed at least somewhat sober, even with his second beer in hand. Another bottle sat empty beside his arm.

“Hey, fellas,” Russell greeted the table. “Little Blackjack, little booze. Looks like a good night you’re having.”

“Do I know you?” Pete asked. His face showed a spark of recognition when he took in Russell. 

“Well, you’re about to. We’re looking for one of your friends, Eddie,” he replied. 

Pete set his beer down on the table. Predictably, he crossed his arms and closed up.

“I don’t know no Eddie.”

Russell resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I realize it’s hard for you, but don’t be dumb. Eddie Mendez,” he pressed. 

Pete glanced at his friends, then he stood from the table, drawing himself to his full height. He was a bit bigger than Russell, but a beer gut wasn’t everything.  

Russell seized up the man in front of him with an almost lazy grin. By contrast, his eyes were sharp, betraying his true thoughts. 

“Now remember. Whatever you start, I’m gonna damn well finish,” he said. 

That sure ignited Pete’s memory. He seemed to be remembering your smaller fist nearly breaking his nose. His face fell with an angry frown. Russell smirked.

Colter laid a warning hand on his brother’s arm.

“We’re not looking for trouble. We’re just trying to find someone Eddie might know. Charlie,” Colter said. “Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t,” Pete claimed.  

“Like you didn’t know Eddie?” Colter replied, raising a brow. “Where can we find him?”

“Now you are looking for trouble,” Pete spat. “Fuck off, Timberlake.”

Just then, Colter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a text from Dory, asking for an update. He ignored the message for now and put his phone away.

Hearing a commotion, he quickly looked up in time to realize that Russell had wrangled Pete into a stronghold with his arm behind his back and had slammed him onto the table. Drinks and bottles rattled and spilled; playing cards fell to the floor. Pete’s friends got up with angry, threatening gaits.

“I think you can point us in the right direction before I break this meaty arm of yours. How about that?” Russell said. 

“Hey! No fighting!” the bartender called from the front. “Take that shit outside.”

Colter internally sighed, but he’d have to roll with this, even though this wasn’t how he’d wanted to play it. 

“I wouldn’t test him,” Colter advised. “That’s gonna be a bad break. You got good health insurance, Pete? You’ll probably need surgery, expensive bills, a little physical therapy, a few months of recovery time.”

Pete seemed to weigh Colter’s logic, albeit with an angry huff. He waved off his friends and caught his breath while pinned against the table. 

“I can’t talk to you,” he said. “I’ll get myself killed.”

“I’d worry more about your odds right now, Pete,” Russell said. He tightened his twisted hold on the man’s arm, earning a strangled sound of pain. 

Colter weighed the options here in record time, and he came to a decision. He grasped Russell’s arm firmly.

“Let him go,” he said.  

Russell gave him a look of disbelief. “Colt?”

Colter implored him with his eyes. Trust me.

After a few more seconds, Russell’s lips pursed, but he let the guy go. 

“Ah, fuck,” Pete muttered. After he was able to straighten up, he rubbed his aching arm and shot them both a red-faced glare. 

Colter steered his brother out of the bar before a real fight could break out. He knew it’d become a bloody mess, and they didn’t have time for a night stay in a county jail cell this time.  

“You better have a damn plan,” Russell whispered, as they neared the front doors of the bar.

“You know I do,” Colter replied.

They later sat in his truck while it was still turned off. Just waiting in silence.

A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Colter started up his own car, and he followed them.

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

The bag was finally ripped off your head, the edge of it catching in your frizzy hair. You blinked wearily at the florescent lights above, and you wiped at your tears and smudged mascara. Your breath left your lungs when you saw your brother, Charlie. 

He was tied to a chair, shirtless and shoeless, beaten and bloody. Some parts of his skin even looked burned. His jeans remained, at least. But his face was hard to look at. His left eye was swollen, his lip split, his cheek cut and bloody. Both his eyes were red-rimmed, and he was sweaty and dirty, as if they’d been keeping him down here like an animal. He looked thinner too.

He stared back at you in dismay, your name falling from his lips.

You tried to scramble over to him, but someone grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back. You cried out in pain.

“Eddie stop! Don’t hurt her!” he shouted. He drew enough strength to pull at his restraints. Your hands reached back on reflex to grasp at the hand holding your hair. 

“No, you did this,” Eddie said. He clicked the safety off his handgun and pointed the barrel at your head, right between the eyes. You gasped and froze where you sat. 

“You couldn’t make it easy, huh? Well now, I’m making it real simple for you,” he continued. “Even more simple, now that we cut out the middleman.”

Eddie gestured to what looked like a woven potato sack laid behind Charlie’s chair, but really, that was just part of it. As your eyes scanned over, you saw the narrow shoulders of a man with a familiar dark blue blazer. It was stained red with a bloody hole carved through the back. Your breath stilled in your lungs.

Eddie glanced over at you, his lips curving. He walked over to the dead body, turned it over with his boot, and dragged off the potato sack to reveal the lifeless blue eyes of Dr. Feinman.

Your eyes widened.

You let out a blood-curdling scream that startled a pigeon out of the warehouse, from where it had been perching on a high support ledge. You leaned back on your bound hands, but you could go no further as one of Eddie’s men grabbed your shoulder, pinning you on the ground. His annoyed face told you to shut the fuck up.

Charlie grimaced and turned his face from the sight of the body. Both shame and hate filled his eyes when Eddie bent down to face him.

“Tell me where you hid the goddamn weapons,” he demanded.

Your lips trembled as new tears brimmed over and streamed down your cheeks. You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.

Your brother saw your disappointment, and he accepted it. But lacking an answer, Eddie pistol whipped you in the face, earning a pained cry from you as you fell back onto the ground. You had to blink the stars out of your eyes.

After his shock wore off, Charlie’s face hardened with fury.

“Oh, don’t give me that fucking face,” Eddie said. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, startling another sharp breath from you. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, what I did to you’ll be child’s play, compared to what I’m gonna do to her. And you’re going to watch.”

Against your will, tears filled your eyes while you stared at your brother. You were terrified, and Charlie knew it. He was scared too, but he also knew then what he had to do.

“I buried them,” he admitted. 

“You buried them?” Eddie repeated. He brushed back his dark hair with the same hand that held his gun. “Ain’t that ironic. All right, where did you bury them?”

“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.” 

Eddie shook his head on a sigh. “Of fucking course.”

He gestured to his men waiting nearby. He wordlessly gave them the order to untie your brother. 

“All right, Charlie. Let’s go for a drive,” he said, and gave you a sleazy smile. “You too, sweetheart.”

He hauled you up onto your feet and kept you close to him, with a hand like a vice around your arm. God, you hated a sweethearting man.

You held your breath. You could only pray that Dory had noticed you were missing…and that Russell and Colter could find you before it was too late.

Please…

It was still dark out, but the sky was beginning to lighten when Colter pulled to the side of the road. The car they followed had stopped in front of a warehouse near an industrial downtown area. Colter spotted the blue sedan from the Ring Camera footage. It was parked out front. 

With a shared nod of understanding, Colter and Russell climbed out of the truck and took the time to arm themselves properly before scoping out the warehouse.

“What does a drug cartel want with museum artifacts?” Russell remarked as they were gearing up. “That’s still not adding up for me.”

“It is odd, but maybe the idea came from Charlie,” Colter said. “He had access. Maybe he saw it as a way to buy their trust.”

“Okay, then what went wrong? Why’d they take her?” Russell replied. “I don’t know, man. Something feels off here.”

Colter nodded in agreement. “We don’t have all the pieces yet.”

But they were about to get them. They moved closer to the warehouse, with Russell heading towards a side door and Colter going around the back. They saw a few men crowded around a TV in the corner of the warehouse. Behind them were crates upon crates of what surely was product. Probably tens of thousands worth of coke.

Jesus, Russell thought. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but still. This was a serious operation.

Colter caught sight of a lone chair under a bright corner of the room. It was stained with sweat and blood, and some cut ropes hung from the seat. He alerted Russell to the scene with a subtle gesture of his raised gun. Russell’s face turned grim. He nodded minimally, then pointed with his eyes at the group of unsuspecting men. The brothers drew in closer.

Russell fired a shot directly into the TV screen, making it crash onto the ground. The men startled like rats, but they soon faced Russell and Colter’s guns. When one of them reached for the gun tucked in their pants, Colter aimed directly at him.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Colter warned. 

“Where’s Charlie?” Russell demanded. “And his sister.”

He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt. 

“How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted. 

The depths of his voice reverberated widely in the warehouse. It set the tone for things to come, if he didn’t get some cooperation.

Pete shifted on his feet, betraying his nerves. His forehead was starting to sweat too. 

“They’re not here,” he admitted. “They left a while ago.”

Russell flexed his finger over the trigger of his gun. 

“Tell me where,” he said.

Eddie wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy kind of guy. He kicked his boot against a tree while leaning against it.

“Fucking rock in my shoe,” he muttered angrily.

He was getting more and more frustrated with the uneven terrain (and the mosquitos) the longer the five of you trekked onwards: including you, Charlie, Eddie, and two of his men, Rick and Kevin. Both of them had guns trained on your back and Charlie’s. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said quietly to you.

You shook your head. Disappointment didn’t even begin to cover what you were feeling as you looked at him, but at least they’d given him a shirt to cover his beaten torso. His face wasn't so lucky.

He righted you when you struggled on the gravel and loose dirt in your ankle boots. Your hands were still tied together too.

“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, as you caught your breath. 

“I needed the money,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t an excuse. “I was his bodyguard.”

“He’s a drug dealer,” you snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.” 

You let out a sharp breath, and tried to blink past your tears. Another disappointment, another heartbreak for the books.

“But when he offered me a job to pay off what I owed, he wanted insurance that I’d stick around. To prove myself,” Charlie explained. “He came up with the idea to rob the museum.”

“Why was Dr. Feinman involved? Did he find out?” you asked.

Charlie nodded with a sigh. “He caught me the first time I tried to steal the artifacts. I…I lied. Told him we planned to sell them. So instead of turning me in, he wanted to be cut into the deal.”

“What? Why?” you said. Your former boss was many things—a stuffy, self-important man chief among them—but you’d never taken him for a thief.

Charlie gave you a wry look. “Owed his second wife up to his eyeballs. Alimony’s a real bitch.”

You shook your head. That explained why Charlie hadn’t yet been a suspect in the theft. Feinman had probably helped cover Charlie’s tracks. But whatever shortcomings Feinman had, he hadn’t deserved to die like that. A shudder went through your body, remembering his lifeless eyes. You breathed out slowly and tried to rid yourself of the nightmarish image. You managed to push past that to ask your next question.

“And who chose the Native American weapons?”

Charlie’s lips pursed. He glanced over his shoulder. “He did. Thought they looked cool.”

Eddie smirked and waved his gun at him, spurring you both onward. Charlie kept walking and turned his attention back to you. 

“The way I figured it, the museum shouldn’t have them anyway.” 

Your lips pursed at that. You sort of saw his point there, however convoluted his justification, but putting those artifacts in the hands of a drug dealer was even worse.

“And this is so much better for them,” you said pointedly. 

“That’s why I couldn’t go through with it. Tried to get out of the whole damn mess,” he said. “I know what you would’ve said to me. And I knew if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes.”

Your tears welled up again, when you saw the sincerity of his gaze.

“Okay, this touching little scene is making my balls itch,” Eddie said. He grabbed Charlie’s shoulder and turned him around. “Where the fuck are we going? If you’re trying to pull something smart here, Charlie, I promise you, you’re gonna regret it.”

He cocked the safety back on his gun and pointed it at Charlie’s chest. Charlie raised slow, placating hands.

“It’s just a little further,” he promised. 

“If you’re giving me the runaround—” Eddie started.

“Then what? Without me, you’ll never find it,” Charlie barked back. 

Eddie’s face tightened, and he pointed the gun at you instead. You sucked in a breath.

Charlie quickly held up his bound hands again in surrender. After a beat of tension, he pointed up when he heard rushing water. 

“Hear that?” he said. “I buried it on a cliff near a waterfall. We’re getting close.”

Another stretch of silence filled the clearing. 

Eddie weighed Charlie’s words. When he was mollified enough, he lowered his gun away from you. At his command, Rick and Kevin kept you and your brother moving. 

Charlie glanced to his right side. He realized that you all were walking near the edge of a steep hill that careened downward. Taking in a breath to center himself, he turned to you.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispered.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye. 

That was when he swiftly turned. He snapped the heel of his hand into Kevin's throat and grabbed his gun while he was choking. Charlie shot him in the chest, then he clipped Rick in the shoulder. 

Just as Eddie began to raise his own weapon, Charlie met your look of shock with his own determination. 

He pushed you down the hill.

AN: I know, I know. Two cliffhangers in a row is cruel, but I promise we're getting to even more fun action and cathartic moments in Part 4! 😘

Next Time:

Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.

He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.

He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.

“Russell?!”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

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[identifying-cars-in-posts]

A long overdue update:

Hi everyone. Long time no see. I literally have not opened Tumblr since the last time I posted here. Hope everyone is doing ok. Figured I owed y’all an apology and explanation for kinda just vanishing.

First, I did in fact get a car! It’s a 2015 Nissan Versa Note. I don’t particularly like it but a friend gave me a deal on it that I couldn’t turn down. Once my life stabilizes I’m probably going to sell it and buy an old truck, maybe a 70s Ford. I’d love a little sports car or a land yacht but rear wheel drive is a bit impractical for brutal New England winters, and the Jeep really put me in Old American Truck Mode. But yes I have a car now!

Second, unfortunately this is an official notice of hiatus. When I last posted saying I was taking some time off it was because I had just had an incredibly stressful move and did not have the energy to keep this blog up. I figured I’d take some time to get settled in, relax, and then pick this back up after a week or two, but the last month has been really rough - the short version is one of the people I was living with turned out to be a pretty horrendous human being who managed to get everybody living in the house essentially kicked out via sheer drama. Within a month and a half. It’s a long story but tl:dr if you quite literally slander a property manager with heavy unfounded accusations of horrible crimes, they’ll probably bail from the whole situation. And since they’re gone the landlord has to hand ownership of everything over to a company that’s forcing everyone still here to vacate. I’m now fighting to not have to live in aforementioned Nissan Versa through the aforementioned brutal New England winter. On top of that, I’m a retail manager so we’re going into our busiest most stressful season, so that’s been an extra level of exhaustion.

So what does that mean for this blog? Well, as I said, I’m officially going on indefinite hiatus, as are the projects I was working on in relation, including the reference website. I’m really sorry, I’m just way too stressed and dealing with way too much. If I could, I would just hand off administrative power to someone else, but this is a sideblog so I can’t hand off login credentials without also giving access to my main/personal account. It’s my biggest regret of this account, but when I started it I never expected it to blow up the way it did back in September - I had no reason to expect to need it to be its own entirely separate blog. I love what I was doing here and I thought that it might even be a nice distraction from everything going on, but the upkeep required with this blog is just more than I can deal with right now. I hope that things settle down soon and that I can genuinely come back here and enjoy what I was doing, but I just need literally anything to level out in my real life and to not be in 100% survival mode, because at the moment I literally do not have the energy to pour into this.

Anyway. Sorry for the long post, I’m not good at not being overly verbose. I’m really sorry for kind of abandoning this project, and I hope I can get back to it relatively soon, it just might be a while.

In the mean time, I hope those of y’all who I turned onto cars as a potential hobby find some other good outlets! I highly recommend Donut Media’s series “Up to Speed” on YouTube, as well as the channels Regular Car Reviews, Doug DeMuro, Garbage Time, and Aging Wheels. All great YouTube channels that are both informative and very approachable and fun.

Godspeed and much love. Hope to see y’all soon

- Identifying Cars in Posts admin ❤️

[sunshine-zenith]

I know it's already been said by multiple people but Dev needs a therapist and maybe some anger management.

Ding ding ding Dear Anon, and it gets truer every time someone says it

Listen. This kid kinda sucks, he’s hard to be around, but it’s because he’s a kid in a crappy situation with crappy luck and zero life skills to manage it. Like the sleepover episode — of course people went to Hazel’s sleepover over his, he tried to steamroll over her sleepover in the first place and he’s already well known for being a jerk. BUT when no one actually shows up to his sleepover, he doesn’t have the capability to think “oh, this is a consequence of my actions, I need to adjust my behavior going forward” because no one’s ever taught him to think that way. Instead, let’s be real, this is just going to become a painful core memory that’ll only keep hurting decades later if he doesn’t get help to compartmentalize it

He’s been raised to believe care is conditional and transactional — him hoarding the pudding until someone does him a favor, him giving out merchandise on his dad’s behalf to make his dad happy, him assuming that one argument would completely shatter his friendship with Hazel, etc

He needs someone to help him work through his trauma, someone to help him learn how to manage his emotions in a healthy manner so he doesn’t blow up or automatically assume the worst when faced with negative situations, someone to set boundaries with him and teach him how to set and understand his own boundaries. Shoot, he needs someone to just love him and care for him unconditionally and for him to know this

Otherwise, he’s just going to be another Dale.

I remember being a kid and seeing the episode where Dale is introduced and reunited with his dad, and I remember for the longest time expecting Dale to also show up when Doug did, only to be disappointed when he didn’t. Dale from the original series needed someone to help him through his trauma, and clearly, Doug never did that. Instead, it seems he just neglected Dale from there and left Dale to stew, to turn his trauma into unhealthy coping mechanisms, needing exploit like he was exploited and needing more and more money at the cost of everything else. I know kid me would be devastated if they saw this and I know adult me will be devastated if Dev ends up following in his father’s bootsteps instead of being helped out of this cycle

Dev’s needs only highlight how unfair the godparent system can be for both him and fairies. He’s a spoiled rich kid, he doesn’t need wish fulfillment, he needs guidance, and the thing is, Peri is trying to give guidance. He’s trying to set boundaries and give advice, but he’s also too inexperienced at this (and being steamrolled by his own parents) to do it properly. Dev should’ve been matched with a godparent who has experience with angry and hurt children instead of being given to the vulnerable new guy who hasn’t been trained for this

And I’m pretty sure Peri and Dev being separated at this point will only serve as a bounce off point for more trauma for both of them — we still don’t know how the whole Timmy thing affected Peri, but we do know he values being a godparent, and losing his first godkid (especially one as hurt and fragile as Dev) would be crushing. And when Dev got Peri, it was basically the universe telling him “this is an adult that is here just for you, who will not be pulled away by technology or greed and who will not intentionally hurt you. He cares about your happiness above all else. A third of his official title is ‘Parent’ and he is yours” — simply replacing Peri would only diminish this statement, and losing this entirely, even if his memory is wiped after, would probably only scar him

Get 👏 Dev 👏 A 👏 Support 👏 Team 👏 ASAP

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 10

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

The next morning is a slog. You’re still tired even after sleeping until your head aches. You drag yourself downstairs, the smell of coffee filling your nose. You blink through the crustiness and wipe it away with your knuckles. 

Andy’s back is to you. Deja vu strikes you as his naked back greets you and his growls at the coffee machine as it brews. You stop in the doorway, not sure if you should turn back or not. He shifts, angling so he spots you from the corner of his eyes. 

He coughs and straightens up, “oh, good morning,” he faces you from across the island, “you--” he stops himself and gives wry smirk, “you don’t drink coffee so I won’t offer. Even if you look like you need it.” 

You scoff and shake your head as that simple act makes it pulse, “ugh, just water.” 

You look around but he’s quicker. He has a glass in his hand and under the fridge filter before you can get your bearings. You try not to stare at his naked torso. He doesn’t seem to notice himself. 

“There are lemons in here. Surprisingly. Not much else,” he pops the door open, “want a slice?” 

You accept in a dull drone. He takes one out and sets the glass down. He searches around and finds a cutting board and knife. He cuts it into wedges and pops one in the water, sliding it towards you. You thank him and take a deep gulp. 

“You doing okay?” He asks then winces, “besides everything.” 

“I feel awful,” you rasp, “I slept too heavy, I think.” 

“Yeah, I was tossing and turning,” he says. 

You’re silent as slowly the memory seeps into your brain. His voice through the wall, the slap on tile, and his thick grunt. You hide behind the glass, taking another drink before you steady your hand. 

“You know, I can check on your dad today if you want to rest--” 

“No,” you insist, a bit too quickly, “no, I have to see him.” 

“Yeah, sorry, I just... you stress yourself out too much and might do more bad than good, you know.” 

“Right, I’m fine,” you say, “really. I’m tired. So what?” 

“Just checking in, sweetheart,” he coaxes. “That’s all.” 

“I’m...” you take a breath and slowly release it. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried. I don’t know what to do. I’m...” 

“What about your mom? She on her way? You called her, right?” 

You roll your eyes, “I’m lucky she picked up.” 

“Oh,” he nods, “well, yeah. I guess that makes sense.” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. 

“Well, if you need any help, I’m right here,” he offers, “what did insurance say? You get the bill sorted out?” 

You try not to show your unease. You’re trying not to think about that call. You nod and try to smile, “yep, got it figured out.” 

You turn with the glass of water, “um, I’m going to...” you look down at your PJs and cringe, “change.” 

“Oh, aha,” he chuckles, “guess I should do that myself.” 

You don’t look back. As helpful as he is, you can’t help but feel yourself sinking into a pit of doom. He can’t do everything. You wouldn’t ask him to. 

🌅

Your dad’s quiet as you enter his room. It’s not very unusual. You often sit in comfortable silence with him. The odd part is he doesn’t even have the television on. He just stares blankly across the room. 

“Dad?” You speak as you sense Andy behind you, himself hesitant to break the lull. 

He grunts and looks at you, a scowl creasing his face. You flinch. He looks mad. 

“Everything alright?” 

“Would you keep it down,” he sneers. 

You reel and look over your shoulder at Andy. He seems equally perplexed. You turn back and smile, “sorry--” 

“I said shut the fuck up, Charlene!” 

Your mother’s name catches you off-guard. 

“Doug,” Andy chides, “that’s your daughter.” 

“Get the fuck out!” He barks. 

Andy touches your arm and gently steps ahead of you, “what’s going on, buddy?” 

“GET OUT!” Your dad pushes over the rolling table next to the bed and it crashes to the floor, sending the jello cup and tray scattering. You gasp as he continues to holler for you to leave. 

A nurse startles you as she brushes by, calling your father by his last name, “don’t you act like this.” 

You’re too stunned to react. You just stare. What the heck is happening? That’s not your father. That’s some sort of animal. He refuses to listen as he snaps at the nurse in a similar vein. 

“I’m so sorry,” she speaks over her shoulder, “sometimes with head injuries, there can be some... emotional side effects.” 

“Oh?” You frown. 

“Is he okay?” Andy asks. 

“It’s early. He’s just woke up and things are a bit muddy,” she can barely be heard as your dad clangs on the bed rails. “Maybe you should step outside.” 

“Dad?” You croak around her and his eyes meet yours. He looks at you with such hate that it makes you want to shrink down to nothing. You step back on your heel and spin, fleeing from his wrath and the room. 

You hear Andy thank the nurse before you get into the hall. He isn’t far after you and another nurse squeezes by him, closing the door behind her. You face him as your eyes gleam with tears. You don’t know if you can do this. You don’t know if you can look at your father and face the stranger he’s become. 

It only took two days and he’s someone else. It’s like you’ve lost him already. You fan yourself as you feel the heat rise up your body and settle behind your eyes. 

“Hey, it’s going to be alright--” 

“No,” you blubber as the tears finally erupt from you, “no it’s not alright! None of it is alright.” 

You cover your face with your hands and shake with sobs. You can’t hold back any more. It’s too much. This is too much. You’re not ready for any of this. You feel Andy wrap you up in his arms and you hear him say your name, but it’s a blur behind the wall of your grief. The world can wait while you fall apart. 

[idkwhatever580]

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED!

Who I have written for: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Regina George x Reader, WandaNat x Reader

Who I will write for: most of MCU women per request, mean girls women, I would write for some Criminal Minds women if I got a request. (I usually do not write for men but if requested I might try it)

-I use she/her most of the time but I am gonna try and write a few with they/them pronouns or I just won’t specify gender

-I post whenever I feel motivated. So right now I am trying to write but it might slow down at times :)

-works with lines through them are not published yet

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Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters I write about. You do not have permission to copy my works. (Although I’d love it if you took inspiration from it and credited me)

Also a disclaimer: most if not all of the gifs, pictures, and videos I use are not mine and I do not own them.

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[harmfulb1tch]

The Sleep Over

Part 2

Summary: things get revealed at a sleep over with Eddie

Ship: Eddie Munson x Henderson! Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I’m thinking of writing tomorrow a smutty second part for this, what do y’all think?

Your little brother Dustin wanted to host a sleepover d&d party for him and his friends while your mom was out on a business trip. You hated this idea because you would have to take care of three children, but you couldn’t say no to his idea because he had to put up with the “girls night” you hosted with Nancy and Robin. That is until you learned that it wasn’t just going to be Mike and Lucas, it was the entirety of the Hellfire Club. You had a huge crush on the Dungeon Master of the club. Your friends always teased you about liking the “freak”, not because you liked the school’s “freak” but because you two were too good for each other. You didn’t remember when that crush for Eddie Munson had started, it’s as if you have always liked him.

Right now, you were preparing everything for your brother’s sleepover while he prepared your basement for the d&d game. You were placing crisps in their corresponding bowls when the doorbell rang.

“Helloooo Y/N, you look nice today” said Lucas when you opened the door, leaning on the doorframe.

“I still haven’t forgot about last time Sinclair. I’m still pissed at you for breaking my AC/DC vinyl.” You said, flicking his forehead. Mike and Lucas the proceeded to come into the house.

“Hey Y/N!” Gareth was next to greet you, followed by Jeff and Doug.

“Hey guys come in!” You greeted them.

“Hey Y/N, how are you?” You eyes started to twinkle at the sound of the boys voice. Eddie said leaning on the doorframe like Lucas but towering over you. You blushed at this.

“H-hey Eddie” you said looking down and smiling like an idiot, very unlike you.

“So, you’re not gonna join us in the campaign, sweetheart?”

“Um, no I don’t think so. I don’t want to interfere with my brother’s sleepover. I don’t think he would like that” you said.

“Oh come on… Hey Dustin, do you mind if your sister joins us?”

“What?! You want to join?! Please join us!” Your brother shouted from the kitchen.

“Ok then! I’ll join” everyone cheered at that.

The campaign started off pretty nicely until Gareth rolled a nat 1 and received a critical hit from an orc. You tried to protect Gareth but got hit yourself, that is until you rolled a nat 20 killing two orcs at the same time with only one arrow.

“Good job, sweetheart” Eddie purred with a wink, making you blush. Your brother looking at the two of you weirdly.

When the game finished, you all cheered when you won the final battle. You all even congratulated Eddie on the amazing campaign. You then all order pizza and ate it on the basement. After that, you set sleeping bags on the floor all scattered around to simulate a camping site. Once everything was set, you all went to sleep.

While everyone was asleep, you couldn’t help but think about Eddie. He was always so nice to you and you always felt like he flirted with you, but you couldn’t shake the thought that he treated every girl the same way. You tossed and turn on your sleeping bag.

“Hey sweetheart, you awake?” You heard Eddie whisper. You knew he was referring to you because of the use of his nickname for you.

“Yes, I can’t sleep Eddie” you said, turning to face him.

“Come here then princess” he whispered, making you blush with the use of the new nickname. Thank god everything was dark enough that he didn’t see. You went up to him and laid by his side, outside his sleeping bag

“don’t be silly, come inside” he said opening up the sleeping bag. You obliged. Once you were settled, Eddie held your face by the chin softly for you to look up at him “what’s got this pretty mind of yours so worked up hm?l

“I-it’s nothing really. Don’t worry about it, it’s stupid” you said flushed for getting caught.

“Come on sweetheart you can tell me” his warm smile edging you to say something.

“It’s just that I like someone, but I don’t know if they like me back you know?” You said, watching Eddies smile falter.

“Yeah, I get it. It’s not stupid at all. Who’s the lucky gentleman huh? Do I know him?” You felt his mood shift from playful to sad.

“Oh yeah, you know him. He’s super nice and funny, he always treats me so well too. The thing is, I don’t know if he is flirting with me or if he just treats me like everybody else you know?” Again, you saw his gaze grow sad at your words

“Well, whoever he is, he’s a very lucky guy. Anybody would be lucky to have you Y/N” he pulled away from you and laid on his back, looking at the ceiling. You

You knew what was going on. He thought you liked someone else and not him. In a moment of braveness you propped yourself up, put your hand on his chest and kissed him deeply. After the initial shock, he kissed you back and placed a hand on your waist. He then moved to his side again and placed his hand where it was before, under your chin, deepening the kiss.

“Hey” he said pulling away, making you laugh.

“You’re an idiot Eddie Munson” you said laughing.

“Oh but you love me”

“That I do, yes”

[oncasette]

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗢𝗡’𝗧 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗠 𝗧𝗢 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗗 (𝗔 𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗠𝗘, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗠𝗔𝗡)

phil wenneck x fem!reader

summary: 3k.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna make me beg for it? I’ll beg for it,” he sighs as he keens further into you. The tip of his nose grazes your clit through the cotton as he drags his lips across your thighs. You drag your hand through his sandy locks, pushing your fingers through the waves of hair and moving the few strands that had fallen away from his forehead.

or the one where phil’s late. again. and he’s got some major groveling to do. dedicated to my inspiration & motivation @gretagerwigsmuse

warnings: smut, piv, oral (f! reciving), fingering, a lil bit of spit kink if you squint, porn with like an eensy teensy bit of plot

masterlist | taglist

He was late. Is late. Still.

You should’ve expected it, honestly. When has he ever been on time for a goddamn thing in his life? Correction. Your life. Phil was always on time for his friends. For Doug—maybe not his wedding—and Stu. 

But for you? 

No, you should’ve expected this. 

The clock on the oven blinked as you stared at it, the food you’d cooked already cold despite never leaving the frying pan. Despite the fact that Phil said he’d be home by five and you’d started cooking at six. 

You give it about thirty more seconds of staring at the front door from your spot at the dining room table before you’re forcing yourself up from the rigid chair to slug off to the bedroom. Despite struggling with the zipper, you tug the dress down your body and let it pool around your ankles as you look at yourself in the mirror. Phil had always loved that dress. It’d been the cause of your being late to an event more than a few times, Phil’s self control being so lackluster you’d barely gotten a single foot out of the door before he was dragging you back into your bedroom. 

Your fingers trace the underwire of your bra. You’d worn this for him, too. The set he’d bought you for Valentine’s last year. Cherry red lace that just barely covered you, matching panties that left nothing to the imagination, and stockings that hooked to the rest of the ensemble with a garter. 

You peel it off with the grimace, replacing it with white, cotton panties and a bra you’d owned for years. Since college, you think. Since before you’d met Phil. 

It was all just so frustrating. He’d promised he’d be home on time this time. Crossed his heart, hoped to die, pinky sweared on it. 

Your face burns as you rifle through your shared closet. Even while pissed off at him, you can’t help the way you gravitate toward his end of the closet. Unable to resist the urge to feel close to him, to smell him wrapped around you. What an asshole. You grab one of his button downs, sighing as you yank it off the hanger. It takes you a minute, grappling with the few buttons done at the top, before you toss it onto the bed behind you. 

You stand in front of it for a while. Staring. Contemplating. It isn’t until you hear the key in the door that you make the decision to actually put it on. 

He calls your name from the front door as you slide your arms through the sleeves. You button enough of the top couple buttons to keep yourself decent. You wanna make him suffer, even if only a little bit. 

“Honey?” you hear him drop his bag on the table beside the door, hear him kick his shoes off. Hear him groan and grumble out a handful of various expletives. 

He calls your name experimentally as he moves toward the bedroom. He’s leaned against the frame when you open the door, both hands holding up his weight from where he’s placed them at the head of the frame. The heady scent of his cologne has your brain going fuzzy at the sight of him. 

“You’re late, Wenneck,” you say. His breath catches in his throat. Wenneck. Not stud or baby or even just Phil. Wenneck. 

You gesture for him to move, sliding past him in the small space he offers. He follows after like a kicked puppy. 

“I can explain,” he starts. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” you say as you move to grab the food sitting out on the counter. You’d left it on the stove with the hopes it’d stay warm longer. It's been cold for a while now, though. 

Pressing the tab on the trash can with your foot, you scoop the full contents of the frying pan into the garbage bag. Phil stands behind you, hands on his hips as he attempts to wrestle for some semblance of ground. 

You turn to face him. “Well. Explain.” 

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I didn’t mean to. You should’ve been here,” you say as you drop the pan in the sink. 

“I know, sweetheart. I just- I got tied up at work,” he says. “You know how Kathy gets on Fridays and-”

“Kathy’s in love with you,” you say, nearly snorting. You spin on your heels to face him, using the kitchen counter behind you to support your weight as you lean against it. 

“Kathy is not…” he sighs. “That’s not the point. Look-”

He steps closer to you. His hands come out instinctively, reaching for your hips. The look you give him has him dropping them to his sides, barely a foot between the two of you. 

“I shouldn’t have been late, I know that, baby. But, I’m here now,” he says. You lean forward, pushing yourself off the counter until you’re close enough to feel his breath fanning across your mouth. The scent of the gum he always chews when he gets stressed hits your nose. Spearmint. Hooking your fingers into his belt loop, you pull his body into yours. 

“Make it up to me,” you exhale. He nods, jaw slack as he leans in to kiss you only for your head to turn at the last second and his mouth to smack against your cheek. 

“What-“

You click your tongue. “That’s something you gotta earn, Mr. Wenneck.”

Phil’s eyes roll into the back of his head, face dropping to press his forehead into yours. 

“Baby,” he exhales. He kisses your cheekbone. 

His teeth graze your skin as he trails his mouth lower. Your brain goes a bit fuzzy when he kisses the seam of your jaw. 

You feel his hands grip your hips, palms splayed as he uses his index finger to tap twice. A signal for you to help him lift you onto the counter. As soon as he’s got you up, he’s moving to kneel between your thighs. It’s a view you don’t think you’ll ever get used to. The warmth in his gaze as he looks up at you with those cataclysmically blue eyes, the curl of his hair behind his ears. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on, you know that?” 

One of his hands finds its way up your thigh, under the hem of your shirt, and up your torso until his fingers are toying with the padding in your bra. 

His name drips down your tongue like a prayer. 

Already, he’s wearing you down. Bit by bit. Letter by letter. Slowly but surely.

“It won’t happen again,” he exhales, sliding his hands up your thighs until they’re resting just below the hemline of your underwear. He’s so warm, always running so hot that you feel like you’re gonna start sweating at any moment under his touch. 

“You said that last time, hot shot,” you say. 

“C’mon, baby. You gonna make me beg for it? I’ll beg for it,” he sighs as he keens further into you. The tip of his nose grazes your clit through the cotton as he drags his lips across your thighs. You drag your hand through his sandy locks, pushing your fingers through the waves of hair and moving the few strands that had fallen away from his forehead. 

“You made me feel really stupid, you know. Felt like shit just sitting here just staring at the door… oh,” you gasp as he begins to suck a purple mark onto your thigh. “Just waiting for my boyfriend to stroll through it whenever he pleases.” 

“I know. I know,” he groans as he presses a kiss to your clothed cunt. “Let me make it up to you, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“You can do better than that, pretty boy,” you say. 

He moves up your body enough to bite the elastic seam of your panties, snapping it against your skin in a way that has you jumping against him. The palm of his hand plants itself against your knee, spreading your legs apart more to give him the space to press his body further into you. 

“I had on that dress you like,” you hum as you place your hands on the table behind you to lean your weight back on them. You feel him groan against you, eyes falling shut. “That lingerie you like, too.”

You want to make him suffer, just a little. As a treat. 

“You’re killing me, here, honey,” he winces. 

“‘S the point,” you gasp as he hooks his fingers into your panties. His tongue is flat as he licks a stripe up your clothed cunt. Slowly, dragging the muscle and dampening the fabric before he pulls back enough to pull the obstruction down your legs at a devastating pace. It catches on your knee for a second, forcing him to tug harder until he’s got the flimsy garment totally off, balling it up to tuck into the back pocket of his pants. 

The first thing you feel is cold air being blown against your slick, sending your hips jumping forward into his touch. 

“So sensitive for me already,” he hums as he kisses and nips at the plush skin of your thighs. 

“Please,” you whimper just as you feel the tip of his nose prod your clit. He licks a broad stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, gathering the wetness that had already begun to pool there. 

“God, so wet, too,” he groans against you, sending shockwaves through your nerve endings. 

“Get to it, Wenneck,” you say, though it comes out shakier than you’d intended. 

“Already back to Wenneck, hm?” he asks, using the tip of his tongue to prod at your entrance. 

“Gotta… Gotta… oh,” you gasp. Every thought in your head stalls as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking hard until you’re keening your hips further into his touch. He brings a hand up swipe through your arousal. It oozes out of you until his fingers are shiny. 

“I think she forgives me, don’t you, pretty girl?” he asks as he presses small kisses to the bundle of nerves. 

Nodding, you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip. You’re not sure you trust yourself to say much of anything to the man right now. He curls his fingers until just his middle finger is pressing against your dripping hole, just barely pushing in. His mouth slows to a languid pace as he continues to drag his tongue against you.

Pulling back just enough to spit on your clit, he uses the mixture of your slick and his drool to push his finger fully into you. 

“More,” you mumble, craving the stretch of more than just a single digit. 

“You want more?” he chuckles against you. “I’ll give you more, baby. Whatever you want.” 

He pushes his ring finger in with the middle, curling them both as they graze against the spongy spot deep inside you. 

“Oh, god, Phil!” you whine. 

“That’s right. Say my name,” he gloats. 

“Phil,” you exhale. The third finger he adds has you seeing stars. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I know you can,” he says. “Know you want to.” 

He sucks on your clit again, sending you spiraling into your orgasm faster than you have a chance to latch on to your boyfriend. His tongue stills, knowing how sensitive you get as you cum, and his fingers slow as he helps you ride out your climax. 

As soon as the waves of your orgasm have finished washing over you, he’s standing, cradling your head in his hands as he slants his lips over yours. His tongue rolls against yours as he licks into your mouth. His hands drop to grip the backs of your knees, pulling you forward until your body is flush with his own. Until you can feel the throb of his cock through his pants against your center. 

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” he mumbles against your lips. “Show you just how sorry I am?”

“Please,” you whine, again. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him more, rolling your hips into his as he slowly undoes the buttons of your shirt. Your hands find his belt, struggling to get it open with the haze still hanging over your senses. His hands cover yours as he slowly moves them away just enough to un-notch the belt. But he allows you to take over from there. 

“We’ve got all night,” he says when he hears your breathing waiver. He brings a hand up to smooth along your spine, palm splayed wide across the expanse of your back. 

“Don’t care. Need you,” you mumble as your ankles hook around the backs of his thighs. 

“I thought I was supposed to be apologizing to you, sweetheart,” he exhales. 

“You’re forgiven,” you say. “You’re so forgiven. Now fuck me, hot shot.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he groans as he presses his body as close to yours as possible. His hand finds your hip, tapping twice as a signal for you to hook your ankles around his waist, before he’s sliding both hands up under your ass to pick you up from the counter top. He keeps his mouth glued to any open skin he can find contact with as he carries you the short distance from your kitchen to your bedroom, teeth nipping at the seam of your jaw before he’s dropping you on the mattress. 

Leaning up on your elbows, you watch as he tugs his pants and boxers down his legs in one go, the difficult part having already been done. Undoing his shirt takes a little longer, seconds maybe, as he rushes through the buttons of his shirt so fast you’re worried he’s gonna pop a couple of them. You undo the three buttons still done on your own shirt, slipping it off your shoulders to leave yourself bare to him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says once he drops the button-down onto the small pile of clothes he’d created in front of your bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he moves to frame your body between your spread thighs. 

“Right back at you, handsome,” you say as he leans down to kiss you only for you to press a hand to his chest and stop him just centimeters away from your lips. “Though, you could work on your punctuality.” 

He starts to fight back, mouth opening with the beginning of a retort before you cut him off. 

“I know, I know,” you peck his lips once. “Just teasing.” 

“Vixen,” he snickers before he’s bridging the gap to kiss you fully. His cock throbs against you, reminding you of the need pulsing through you. You reach down to wrap your hand around his length. Phil hisses through clenched teeth. 

You tug on his cock slowly, barely dragging your hand up the length of him in a way that has him shuddering against you. 

“Need you,” you mumble. “In me.”

“Whatever you say, baby,” he hums as you line him up. 

The initial push in has both of you groaning, your cunt stretching deliciously to accommodate the intrusion. 

“Jesus,” he grunts. “So fucking tight.” 

He pushes in slowly, inching forward until he’s bottomed out and you feel so full you think you can feel him in your throat. The first pull out is agonizingly slow. He’s nearly pulled out of you completely, leaving just the head of his cock notched within your walls. 

“Fuck me, Phil. Please,” you groan as you dig the heels of your feet into his ass in an effort to get him to move. 

“Well, I thought you would want something a little-”

“Goddamnit, Phil,” you say as you push your heels into him further, driving his cock an inch or so deeper at a pace that elicits a whimper from you. 

He builds up to a bruising pace after that. His fingers dig into your waist to keep himself steady as he punches that spot inside of you with the tip of his cock again. You bring your own hand down to circle your clit, needing just that little bit of friction to bring you back to the edge, only for Phil to smack your hand away and replace your thumb with his own. 

“Get outta here with that,” he mumbles as he drags his lips along yours. “Playing with yourself while I fuck you.” 

The pressure sends your brain into a thick muck of fog. 

Gasping out his name, you drop your head back onto the pillow with your eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me again?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you say. “Yes yes yes.” 

“Soak my cock, baby. Want to feel this pretty pussy clamped around me,” he mumbles as his hips stutter with the signal of his own orgasm. 

Your walls flutter around him as you cum, his name on your lips and the taste of him on your tongue. Your chest heaves as his thrusts still. His cum coats you in thick, warm spurts. 

“I really am sorry,” he says. “I was going to be home on time. I set an alarm on my phone and everything and then-” “I know,” you say as you push his hair back from his forehead. He pulls out of you with a deep exhale, skin damp with sticky sweat. Collapsing back onto the mattress, he tugs you into his chest. 

“I want to make it up to you.” “You did,” you say as he ghosts his fingers across the length of your arm. 

“I want to make it up to you with more than just my dick,” he laughs. A laugh that has you laughing with him in moments. 

“You can make breakfast,” you offer. 

“Sure,” he hums, pecking the side of your head. “Hope you like microwave bacon.” 

[911lonestar911imagines]

The Creek - Evan 'Buck' Buckley x Reader 1/?

Summary: You grew up being best friends with the Buckley Siblings, all three of you coming from rough homes, but one by one everybody left, leaving you on your own to deal with it all..until one day you're able to tell Evan everything you wanted to the day he left.

Warnings: Mentions of drug use (cocaine), mentions/implications of past child abuse, implications that the father and friends are creeps.

A/N: Hello again, I am back! This is a new series I'm working on, this isn't edited or proof-read, so just lmk what you think!

You were only 6 whenever you met the Buckley’s, you had just moved into their neighborhood, taking residence in the home right next to theirs, you got really close with Maddy and Evan, you always met them in the creek a few blocks away of your guys’s houses. They never liked being home because their brother wasn’t there or their parents always yelled at Evan, and you never liked being home because your dad was really mean whenever he’d have his friends over to smell sugar together, which you always thought was weird until you were older and realized what exactly they were doing.

It became a ritual for years, always meeting them at the creek, you’d go on adventures, discovering new hidden spots around the creek where you’d play different imaginary games, but one day..Maddy wasn’t there anymore. Just Evan.

You pushed the branches from in front of you to reveal just the boy you watched grow from a little boy into a teenage boy, awkward acne covering his face, his hair dangling in front of his blood shot swollen eyes. “Hey Evan..what’s wrong?…is your sister hanging out with doug today?” You asked, disgust dripping in your voice whenever you mentioned her boyfriend “Maddie decided to move in with him..she’s gone..” he whispered, his voice cracking, you frowned rushing over hugging him tightly “are you okay?..I’m here for you Evan” you assured him squeezing him tightly, fighting off your own tears.

You two still met by the creek everyday, opening up more to each other day by day about what was going on at home, you ended up going to prom together, he was your escape from what was going on at home, the drug abuse got worse, and him and his friends got a lot creepier towards you now that you were getting older. After one night though, after a really bad fight with your dad, you rushed to the creek, your lip still dripping blood, your cheekbone slowly swelling and bruising, your sobs broke the silence in the air as you broke through the branches, and yet..nobody. Evan wasn’t there. Maybe something had happened at home?

You couldn’t think, you just ran, desperate to hear his words that somehow always comforted you, as you approached his house you saw his parents outside screaming towards Maddie’s jeep, Evan appearing from behind it holding a duffel bag “I don’t need this! I’m leaving!” He yelled before climbing in slamming the door, the tires squealing as he pulled off, and just for a moment, you thought at least, your teary eyes locked with his hate-filled ones. He just sped past, by now you had wiped the blood from your lip, making eye contact with his parents before shaking your head in disgust heading back to the house you so desperately wanted to run from just like Evan had done, why hadn’t he told you? He didn’t he take you with him? He knew what was going on at home, so why didn’t he?

You spent another 3 years in that home before finally leaving, moving with your friend who ended up getting a beach house from her parents in LA. You ended up getting a job babysitting a few kids that lived near your home, one kid specifically had most of your time, his father was a full-time firefighter and he had lost his mother not to long ago, so you were always trying to cheer him up.

As you walked into the Diaz household, you were greeted by your favorite noise, Christopher squealing and laughing from the living room "Alright, come on, Buck we gotta get to work before Bobby sends Hen out for us" You heard Eddie say to somebody "Eddie!? I'm here! Has Mr. Diaz eaten yet?" You called chuckling, it was something you had started calling Christopher after he had a bad day at school, you acted like a butler for the day taking him to do whatever he wanted that day, ever since then the name just stuck. "He has! his Buck took him out to eat at the pier this morning!" Eddie shouted back, you smiled walking through the doorway freezing right where you stood as you made eye contact with someone you swore you'd punch in the face next time you saw him. Evan fucking Buckley. "Oh hey! Buck this is Ms. Y/n, Ms. Y/n this is Buck!" Christopher cheered, Eddie picked up on your nervousness, coughing awkwardly nudging Buck forward who extended a hand out "Evan Buckley, but my friends call me Buck" He smiled, goddamnit that smile, you gulped down a sneer as you grabbed his hand going to shake it "Have we met you look really familiar?" He asked as you shook his hand smiling "Nope." You quickly replied "Alright come on, we're gonna be late" Eddie said, you watched as realization washed over Evan's face as he watched you the entire way out of the door.

"Eddie, you don't understand, I know her! and..I kinda did something messed up" Buck said as they climbed out of the firetruck heading towards the locker rooms to change, he had been trying to convince Eddie he knew you for 23 hours now, and finally, Eddie decided to humor him, letting him explain everything on the way to drop Buck off.

Whenever Eddie got home, he found Christopher fast asleep in his room, you posted up outside of his doorway in the hall, fast asleep leaning against the wall. "Hey, Y/n/n, come on, let's get you to the guest bed" He whispered, helping your still half asleep self to his guest bedroom, letting you fall asleep in there for the rest of the night.

You hadn't seen Evan again in three days, anytime you went to babysit Chris, Eddie would always give you a sympathetic look before leaving and it started to get under your skin, to the point where on your day off you drove to the firehouse, waiting patiently with the fire captain, Bobby Nash, for Evan to come in for a 'meeting'. You watched as Bobby nodded to the entrance where Evan walked in confused "I'll send him up for you" He said, giving you the same sympathetic look Eddie did as he left. You waited a few moments before Evan appeared at the top of the staircase "Y/n?" He asked nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he approached the chair in front of you. "I always said if I ever saw you again..I'd punch the little smile off of your face" You whispered, fidgeting with your nails, Buck sighed, his knee bouncing anxiously, waiting for the yelling and fighting that always came whenever he was a child getting reprimanded, but you just sat there. As he looked up he noticed the tears falling from your eyes onto your pantlegs "I-I was so worried about you, Evan" You whimpered quietly "Y-you left without even telling me anything..I-I thought I did something wrong, Evan" You continued, your broken voice slowly turning to a sob "I-I'm so sorry, y/n..I-I was hurting..and I needed to take time away, t-to find myself without hurting anybody I loved" He explained, His explanation just angered and upset you more "I was hurting! I was hurting, Evan! I told you about my dad! about his friends! everything I went through! you were my person, Evan! t-the one person i could cry to without being laughed at!" You cried pushing him off of you whenever he attempted to hug you "you left me, Evan. You left me there to die so you could save yourself. some firefighter" You scoffed, your face was red from crying, your entire body was shaking, you felt dizzy and like your legs were slowly turning into sand, your breathing was way faster than it should've been, you needed to get out.

As you approached the stairs, your vision was filled with spots and you knew this is where your walk ended for now. Eddie was quick to notice you as soon as he heard your shouts, rushing up the stairs skipping them three at a time to get to you right as you fell forward. Just by an inch he caught you, slowly lowering you down as he looked at Buck "Get me the med-kit and lifevac from the truck" He demanded, Buck quick to rush around the two of you to the ambulance, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, but as he lifted the bag from the ambulance the lump in his throat burst into sobs, he rushed up the stairs handing the supplies to Eddie looking at him "W-What do I do?" He whimpered.

You woke up not too long after that, your head was rested on Eddie's thigh as he watched the small machine monitoring your heartbeat, you took notice to someone holding onto your hand uncomfortably tight, you could feel something dripping onto your knuckles but from the way your body was positioned you couldn't see. "There she is, welcome back, Y/n" Bobby greeted, knelt a few feet in front of you, only now do you notice you've been moved to the carpeted part of the floor upstairs where you and Evan spoke. "I-I'm sorry, I need to go" You started but Eddie just rested his hand on your shoulder "You need to take it slow....That was almost a nasty fall, and your heart rate is still elevated" He said gently, you took his advice slowly sitting up, you could feel his hand resting on your upper back to help you support yourself until you were confident enough to do it on your own.

Once you were up, you saw him, Evan was still sat on the floor, off to the side holding your hand tightly, his leg bent slightly as it shook, his face almost resembling yours from earlier "Buckley, Easy on the hand" Bobby whispered gently to him, rubbing his shoulder gently, you had explained the situation to Bobby whenever you first got there, and while he knew Buck had somewhat of a dark past, he didn't think anything about the old friend Evan talked about. Bobby felt terrible for you both, seeing how much pain you were both in, he had met you before, he just knew you as Y/n the sweet babysitter that happily takes care of Chris. As Buck loosened his grip, you left your hand resting in his, you weren't sure if you should leave and never talk to anybody ever again, or maybe for a moment, you thought of staying, ignoring the glances of sympathy from others who now know your childhood story.

You stayed there for another hour before Eddie let you leave 'I just want to make sure you're okay' he'd tell you every time you asked to leave. As you sat on your couch in a daze you almost never noticed the knocking on your door, instead of answering like usual, you just shouted to come in, not moving from your position on your couch, covered in a blanket with your arms around your knees that were pulled to your chest. "I-I know you probably don't wanna see me but-" Evan's voice was cut off by Christopher's cheers as he made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you "Dad said you got sick today, so...I made Buck bring me over to take care of you!" He smiled, you could feel yourself starting to cry as you examined his happy cheerful face. Christopher was without a doubt the most thoughtful selfless boy you had ever met, so caring and sweet, and you were so happy to have him and his father as friends. Chris frowned sitting next to you as he hugged you as tight as he could "It's okay y/n.." He whispered, all you could do was hug him back, unable to say anything as Evan slowly walked over to sit on your recliner across from the couch "How about..I make us your favorite snack" He smiled getting up from his spot next to you to take the grocery bag from Evan rushing as fast as he could to the kitchen.

You were left in the living room with Evan, the air was thick as you tried to avoid his gaze "y/n.." He whispered, you could hear him shuffling around before feeling the cushion dip down next to you. "P-Please don't, Evan" You whimpered "I physically cannot handle this" You whispered, trying to stay strong, but once you met his gaze you folded, his curls were hanging infront of his puffy bloodshot eyes and all of a sudden you were kids again, Maddie had just moved out and you were at the creek. "I'm so sorry...I-I thought about you every day..I even tried to come back..to get you..or at least see you but your dad would tell me you left..or you ran off..or some random story.." He whispered "I never stopped looking for you..I left because Maddie ditched our plans of seeing the country..but once I realized I truly loved you, y/n..I always came back for you..I just..never found you until you showed up at Eddie's" He explained, his voice breaking, you could tell it was already strained "I have never cared more for anybody in this world than I did for you, and I was so fucking stupid for leaving you behind" He whispered, his breaking voice turned into a stifled sob whenever you fell into his chest, his arms wrapping around you tightly in a hug as you cried into your blanket "I hoped for you to come back every single time I had to deal with things alone..but you never did, Evan..so I left" You cried gripping onto his shirt

You ended up eating snacks and watching star wars with the boys until Chris ended up having to go home for the night, Evan promising he'd come back to you. You sat in the same spot waiting, watching the clock, your mind flashing back to all of the moments you'd spend watching the clock imagining Evan busting in to whisk you away but he never did. You turned slightly, watching the door, starting to imagine him walking through, the cute little smile he always had presenting itself as he walked in, but right as you started thinking that, the door opened. Buck walked in soaked from rain water, You smiled a bit "Didn't you have a jacket whenever you left?" You asked trying to hide your giggles "It started to pour and I didn't want Christopher's crutches to get wet or anything so I wrapped them in my jacket and a spare one I had in the truck" He explained sitting down next to you sighing "Evan!!" You groaned "You're gonna get my couch soaked!" You continued throwing your head back giggling, Evan smiled at you, not saying anything just admiring your smile and laugh.

You slowly looked at him noticing his stare "What's wrong?" You asked, nervousness starting to spread through your body "Nothing...I just..missed you" He whispered before bringing you into a hug, you sighed relaxing in his company, right as he went to kiss the top of your head gently, you went to look up at him, causing your lips to meet just right, neither of you pulled away though, Evan was as gentle as he could be. His fingertips felt like feathers as they gently cupped your cheek, your lips moving in sync together, the rain pattering softly on your window as you finally pulled away from each other.

"what now?.." You asked nervously.

[thewulf]

Wild Child || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: The four times Jake catches you in precarious situation plus the one time you catch him in one.

A/N: A request from a friend.: I’m sooooo sorry if your name is Heidi (You’ll see why). Really unedited but I wanted to get you guys something out. Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 6,200+

The First Incident

A wild child is how your family always described you. You liked ‘free spirit’ better. Wild child made you sound unhinged. You didn’t like to consider yourself unhinged per say but you couldn’t stand to be tied down to anything. One minute you were a white-water rafting instructor at the Grand Canyon, the next you’re teaching people how to paraglide in the Alps. You craved adventure. Loved it more than anything in the world.

The thought of a corporate job holding you down made you gag, literally. You knew this lifestyle wasn’t maintainable per say but you just couldn’t seem to give a damn. You let the wind blow you to your next opportunity. That’s how you ended up in San Diego as a water sports instructor. You’d been working as a ski school coach in Colorado when you got word help was needed on the West Coast. You approached the guy who needed help and the rest was history. You were on a plane to San Diego the next day with a job running the little shack on the beach.

You loved it. It might’ve been your favorite job to date. You got to hang out in the sun all day and rent Jet Ski’s, paddle boards and kayak’s to people. Your favorite days were the ones you got to do jet ski tours on. You’d spend endless hours on the open ocean having the time of your life. Your least favorite days were the ones when you had to do maintenance on all the equipment. Usually, Doug or Jim your coworkers would take on changing the oil out on the jet ski’s but naturally they were both off when one needed to be done.

It didn’t take long before you found yourself in a less than ideal situation. You’d forgotten to put the oil cap back on before cranking the engine on. Well, the entire contents of oil you just dumped in the chamber was now all over your face and clothing, the engine spitting it back at you.

“Fuck!” You cried jumping back away from the machine. Ripping off the safety glasses you used your hands and clothing to try and get the oil off your face. Without much success you paused trying to assess the situation.

You realized you had two options. Jump in the freezing ass Ocean or run into Penny’s place. Deciding on the latter option you pulled your shirt off leaving you in your bathing suit. Luckily, most of the oil was on your shirt avoiding the rest of your body.

It was only five so the bar had just opened, “Penny!” You called loudly for the woman as you walked into the Hard Deck.

“Y/N!” She called back before turning to you. When she did her face displayed every emotion. Her smiley face turned to shock as she took in your oily black appearance. Then it turned to confusion as she took in your entire appearance. You must’ve looked like a horror story walking into her bar. No shoes, no shirt and certainly a problem.

“The damn jet ski blew up on me. Marty’s cheap ass won’t upgrade them. It’s certainly nothing that I did!” Crossing your hands over your chest with a pout on your face making your way over to a bar stool you gave her an overly exasperated look.

The last and final emotion that crossed her face was with hilarity. She couldn’t stop laughing once she realized it was more than likely a self-inflicted casualty, “Did it now?”

Nodding your head, you gratefully accepted the rag from her. Beginning to wipe away some more of the oil from your face you heard some commotion from the front door.

“Penny!” A male voice you hadn’t recognized rang through the bar just as yours had seconds prior.

Her brows stitched together in confusion as she had just seen that same scene play out with you not a moment before, “Jake!” She replied, just the same as she had with you. Spinning around in the bar stool you were thankful the rag was covering your mouth because you were sure it would have dropped right then and there. The most devilishly handsome military man just walked through Penny’s doors, and you had your eyes set right on him.

He too, had his eyes set right on you but you had a sneaking suspicion it was from the engine oil that caked your face and upper body, “You have a little something here.” Jake pointed to his forehead giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Oh, thanks.” You rolled your eyes, “So helpful.” Dramatically you took the damp rag wiping your forehead free of motor oil, “Did I get it?” You quipped back.

He nodded smiling, enjoying how much of an attitude you already had with him. It made the game way more fun when they didn’t get off on the right foot, “You got it.” He nodded his head down, “Jake Seresin. Don’t think we’ve met.” The stupid cheeky grin never left his face. Only growing wider when he saw your irritated expression grow.

Quickly, you ran your hand along the other side of your face making sure to coat your hand in oil before accepting the handshake. His grin broke out into a full smile seeing your play. A low chuckle reverberated from his body as your hand coated his in oil, “Sorry, I thought you said I got it?” Giving him a wink, you snatched your hand back from his grip. Easy to do since they were both coated in the slippery liquid.

He tipped his head in your direction, “Fair play ma’am.”

“That’s all I do, Mr. Seresin.” Taking the rag, you fully wiped off your face. You knew your hair was coated but opted to throw it up in a bun until you’d be able to shower it off. Penny gave you a new clean one while she handed Jake a napkin after seeing the exchange between the two of you.

“Did you need something Jake?” Penny interrupted the two young adults who were seemingly very into each other. Penny could tell. She always could. It didn’t help that she hardly knew either of you. You’d just started at the shack two weeks ago, only occasionally crossing paths. You worked early and she worked late.

“I did.” He nodded looking back at you, “But for some odd reason, I can’t remember what that was.” He threw you a wink taking a seat next to you.

You wanted to roll your eyes, but something drew you into him. Like you wanted to know just a little bit more, “Cheesy.”

“She doesn’t like cheesy, noted.” Jake leaned back looking you over. He’d noticed you were just in your swimsuit, not really mad about it.

“Well, I didn’t say that did I?”

He took the beer Penny had poured from him, “Noted.”

The Second Incident

“No, no, no!” You yelled out while you running around the beach trying to collect the umbrellas that got pulled up by the rather strong gust of wind. You’d gotten three before the fourth got caught in another gust and took off.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed before jogging along the water hoping to catch it before it went out into the ocean. You loved this job, but you didn’t love it that much to go swimming for it.

To your delight the blonde boy from the bar caught it before you did. Coming out of nowhere he grabbed the end of it before quickly closing it. After catching up to him you took the awkwardly large umbrella from his hands, “My hero! Thank you. Might’ve saved my job.”

He smiled back at you almost immediately, enthralled you were chatting with him so easily. It wasn’t that often he came across a woman that could hold her own with him. Natasha being one of the rare few. He had a feeling you were just like her with your quick remarks and witty comebacks, “You’re welcome…You never told me your name.” He frowned looking at you expectedly.

“I didn’t?”

He shook his head, “No ma’am.”

“Hmm.” You began to walk away knowing he’d follow right after you. You were oddly good at this game. Truth be told you hadn’t a clue where your confidence came from. Even with men as attractive as Jake you knew how to wind them up and get them to do your bidding. A unique skill not only reserved for the men. You mom always said you’d make for a great politician because you were a master at manipulating people to do what you needed them to do. She always made it sound cooler than it was. But you sure did use that skill to your advantage in these situations.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?” He caught up to you with ease. Your smaller frame and the gigantic umbrella slowed you down.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” You gave him a wide grin already seeming to know how to reel him right into you.

He paused for a moment before making his way back to you, “I’ll go ask Penny.”

“Go for it. That’s cheating but it’s fine.” You knew military men had a weird thing with cheating so again, you used it against him.

“That’s not cheating!” He took the umbrella from you, tired of seeing you struggle with it while he knew he could carry it so easily.

“Thanks,” You smiled up at him before heading back to the shack. A nasty storm appeared to be rolling in that wasn’t on the radar that morning. You wouldn’t have set out the umbrellas had you known it would be coming in so quickly, “But it so is cheating!” You couldn’t drop it either.

“In what world?”

You shrugged, “Mine.”

“Fine.” He nodded his head placing the umbrella down in the shack, “What’s it going to take for me to get your name?”

Returning the smile while tapping your finger on your chin you answered him, “I don’t know yet Jake.”

Slumping over slightly he looked a tad defeated, “Well this is impossible.”

“Giving up already Mr. Seresin?” You challenged him. Another thing you knew military men loved, a good challenge.

Shaking his head vigorously he turned the frowned back into that charming smile you already loved, “No, didn’t say that did I?”

Shaking your head, you could only answer, “Fair play military boy.”

“Navy.” He corrected you. Not that you were wrong per say but you weren’t specific enough.

“Navy boy.” You nodded at him, as a touché, “What do you do for the Navy anyway?” You wanted the conversation to continue. Jake intrigued you. Not many people did. You’d come across all sorts of fascinating and downright boring people as you traversed the world. But few captured your attention longer than a few hours.

“If I answer, will you give me your name?”

Shrugging you answered, “Maybe.” You respected the little game he was playing. It was fun. Fun intrigued you. Fun kept you engaged with him.

“I’m a pilot.”

“Ohh, you get to fly fast planes?” He’d really got you now. Planes had always fascinated you. You loved adventure more than anything in the world, but planes always seemed to be off limits, especially fast ones.

“Something like that. We call them jets.”

You nodded along enthralled by the admission, “That’s really cool Jake.” It was a high compliment from you and Jake knew it. He knew he intrigued you as much as you intrigued him. You wouldn’t have tolerated his presence if you felt otherwise. Something he picked up on quickly, you spoke your mind and you weren’t afraid who heard. A rare quality he rarely saw in people.

“It is. I love it.” His smile softened for the first time around you. You noticed how the cheeky grin downturned ever so slightly into a more genuine smile. One you knew that likely didn’t come around often.

“Y/N. That’s my name.”

“Y/N.” He repeated back, “That’s beautiful.”

“You should tell that to my mother. My dad wanted to name me Heidi. She saved me from that childhood torture. Bless that woman.” Smiling you leaned back against the shack.

Jake smiled a bit wider taking in the small bits of information you were willing to share about yourself. He had a feeling you were a closed book masking being an open one. He understood, he was the same way. An extroverted persona on the outside and a hidden softer side that only came out around people that wee trusted. There was nothing wrong with this per say it was just exhausting. Having to put a wall up 24/7 wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed.

“Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to Y/N.”

You giggled. A sound you hadn’t heard in so long. The last time you felt this stupidly giddy from a boy’s comment was ages ago, back in college when you were tied down, “Maybe Mr. Seresin. Just maybe.”

The Third Incident

The day was brutal. The sun beamed down at you all morning and afternoon. You could hardly sit in the shade because almost all of your equipment was rented out. It wasn’t a bad thing. You were raking in tips. But it made for a long and exhausting day. That paired with no air conditioning made you feel like you were starting to go a little crazy.

So, when you turned over the key in your vehicle and it didn’t start you all but lost it. You let yourself yell once and shed a tear out of frustration before heading into Penny’s place. Lucky for you she opened up a bit earlier on the weekends to attract more customers from the beach who wanted to day drink.

You spotted the woman quickly before making a beeline straight towards her, “Penny, please tell me your mechanic of a boyfriend is around.”

She frowned, “No, he’s out of town. What’s up?”

“Damn.” You sighed taking a seat at the nearly empty bar. You hadn’t seen Jake and his Navy buddies sitting in the back as you made your way straight to the bar. But he saw you. He always noticed you. The simple chats started turning deeper as both of you tip toed around what you both wanted but neither wanted to admit, “This one’s going to cost me. Car won’t start. Hopefully it’s just the starter or the battery.”

Both of you were terribly afraid of commitment for one reason or another. But sometimes that spark that you find can’t be put out. The flame couldn’t be diminished. It needed to be explored. The spark was slowly growing into a flame and neither of you wanted to extinguish it but neither brave enough to let it grow. To let the flame, turn into a fire. For that meant commitment. And commitment was terrifying.

It made sense for Jake. He was always on the move. Always going from one base to the next. Early in his career he would try but it got too hard. It was hard to fall for someone and then have to move because he was reassigned to a new base. It was way easier being an asshole who was there for the hookup than commit to someone. But it was different now. He’d completed all his goals. Done what he wanted to accomplish as a pilot. If he ever wanted to be an admiral, he needed to clean up his act and excel as an instructor at Top Gun. Show Naval leadership he was meant to be a leader too.

It made sense for you too. You were in an amazing relationship throughout college. You’d met a boy early on in your freshman year and stayed with him through your senior year. He’d even proposed. But then he got sick. The sickness took him away from you. So, you ran. Your wild child was let out. You couldn’t be tied down again. You couldn’t go through that again.

“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry Y/N. How about a beer on the house?” She smiled as sweetly as she could. She knew how shitty the feeling was. Unreliable vehicles were the worst. Lucky for you it wasn’t a far walk home worst come to worst. The only downfall of the lifestyle was never having enough money. A tow was certainly out of budget. It needed to be fixed in the lot. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Sighing and lifting your head from the bar top you gave her a thumbs up, “Thanks Penny.”

Her eyes widened spotting the blonde pilot making his way over to you. Penny was many things, but she wasn’t dumb. She certainly wasn’t blind. She didn’t know Jake well, but she’d heard about him. Heard all the rumors of the fuck boy that he supposedly was. She’d yet to see it. Over the last few weeks, he’d had nothing but eyes for you.

Penny had also gotten to know you a whole hell of a lot better as you spent the last bit of your day here all too often now. There were usually hardly any customers and Penny lent the best conversation you’ve come across in San Diego. So, you started coming to the Hard Deck every day after work. She realized quickly that you were damn near oblivious to Jake’s feelings. Always flirting back but never agreeing with Penny about his intentions.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Jake had begun using those sweet terms of endearment a few days ago. Finally finding the courage to make his feelings a little more obviously known. But of course, you hadn’t a clue. It didn’t mean anything for you. Your way of deflecting, naturally.

“Jake, hey.” You straightened up a bit, “Car won’t start.”

He frowned, “That’s no good. Let me take a look.”

Your eyes peaked up in curiosity, “You know cars?”

“I know jets. How different can cars really be?”

Laughing you nodded, “I’m pretty sure they’re really different actually.”

“You have no faith in me darling.”

“Oh, have at it. Just don’t break it any further.” You smiled taking a sip of the beer. He stood for the stool waiting for you.

Giving him a quizzical look, he continued, “After you.”

“You were being serious?” You set the glass down. It wasn’t very often that people went out their way to help you. That was another problem with the nomadic lifestyle you’d become accustom too.

“As a heart attack. I’ve got some tools in my truck. I can figure it out.”

Hopping down from the stool you gave Penny a wave. She gave you a knowing head shake waving you off. Leading Jake to your car you popped the hood to give him a look.

“Can you turn it over?” He asked. Giving him a nod, you tried to start the engine only to be met with silence, “Just a dead battery. Let me go get my truck for a jump start.”

Another few moments and a jump start later you were met with a started vehicle. Jake parked the truck next to yours. Getting out you were too afraid to turn it off before driving to a car shop to swap out the battery.

“This time you’re my Knight in Shining Armour.” You gleamed up at him as he made his way to the driver’s side of your vehicle.

“I’m honored, really.”

“Thanks, fly boy. I gotta go get a new battery now.”

“Fly boy?” He smirked.

“Mhmm, heard you and your friends talking the other day. The girl said it and it stuck. I like it. Fly boy.”

He opened your car door, “Then you can call me fly boy. If you like it.”

“Didn’t know I needed your permission.” Again, you challenged him. You always seemed to challenge him. Making him second guess that smoothness that always seemed to work. Not on you though. You got the better of him all too often now.

The Fourth Incident

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You grumbled taking a seat in front of the knotted mess before you. You’d let the boys take the parasail up only for them to come back to you with a sheepish grin on their faces and a very tangled parasail before them.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Doug, usually your favorite co-worker replied seeing your very annoyed expression.

“It’s fine… just go help the customers. This is going to take me a while.” You let out a frustrated groan. At least it was a mindless task.

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded and quickly left, not wanting to get another earful from you.

“They certainly don’t make this job easy.” You sighed leaning back against the shack. You didn’t have a particular talent for untangling things, but you knew the boys certainly didn’t have the patience to even try. So here you were stuck with a loopy mess of ropes and cables.

“You always talk to yourself?” That now-familiar voice of the blonde pilot spoke out startling you from your focus.

Jumping slightly, you slapped his ankle, “You always stalk me?”

“I do not.” He scoffed sliding down the wall to sit down right next to you. He was close but neither of you made the effort to move farther apart.  Not even a little. He let his thigh rest against your bare one. It was a hot one, so you were without shorts, just bathing suit bottoms. He was testing your boundaries and you were more than happy to welcome him right on in.

“I didn’t say I was complaining about it.” You quipped back.

You earned a hearty laugh from him. A sound you’d learned to cherish over the blossoming friendship you wished would turn something more, “You never cease to surprise me Y/N.”

“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” You grinned up at him momentarily forgetting about the mess laid before you.

“It’s a great thing.” He answered quickly not wanting to place doubt into your head, “You’re incredible. You know that right?”

Heart stuttering you snapped your head back up to him. What was he saying? What was he trying to imply? Was he trying to get you all sorts of flustered because it was certainly working. You’d always been awkward when receiving compliments so when Jake threw that one at you it made you want to disappear right then and there.

“If you think so.” You nodded your head gingerly making sure to focus your attention on the rope and not the gazing eyes of the man you’ve been crushing on a little too hard.

He took your hand in his, “I know so. You’re beyond fascinating. Every time I get to know a little bit more about you, I’m infinitely more intrigued by you. Rooster called me out on it, said I never seemed to shut up about you.” He admitted. He wasn’t all too sure why he was telling you this. It was easy with you. He wanted to tell you things. Things he’d never dream of sharing with a girl before. But with you it felt so natural. So effortless.

It wasn’t often somebody could make you blush, but Jake was doing an exquisite job of it. A fiery blaze crested up your neck settling on your cheeks. Thankful it was warm out you could just blame it on the sun, “Rooster?” You questioned. You’d yet to meet any of his friends but that didn’t seem like a terribly common name.

“Bradley. The one with the stash. It’s a call sign. We all have one.” He smiled knowing just how odd it sounded when he said it out loud.

“What’s yours?” You asked wanting the conversation to go on. He too intrigued you. You seemed to get lost in conversation whenever you ran into him. It too felt natural with him. Like two puzzle pieces just waiting to be linked together.

“Hangman.”

You smiled wondering where in the hell that could’ve come from, “That’s an interesting call sign.”

“You think?” His eyes stitched together in curiosity.

“For sure. I wonder what mine would be? I’m not cool enough though. I’d never make it.” You admitted to him looking away afraid you’ve overstepped.

He studied you up and down as if trying to come up with one on the spot. Not a second later he responded with one, almost as if he’d thought it through before, “I’d call you Bird.”

“Bird?” You grinned curious as to why.

“You’re a free spirit. Like a bird. Floating through the air making it look effortless even though you’re working harder than ever. You have a certain ease to you that makes you so free.” He paused collecting his thoughts, “And you’d make it just fine. You’re more levelheaded than half the guys I train on a regular basis.”

“Oh, that’s frightening Jake. I’m not even that levelheaded!” You laughed feeling a bit concerned over the state of who was employed by the Navy.

“I know.” He winked at you letting his leg full press into yours. The closeness let goosebumps ripple down your legs sending a shiver over your body. It frightened you how easily he affected you both mentally and clearly physically, “It’s terrifying who they let fly those things huh?” He laughed taking a cable in hand beginning to help you.

“Suppose you have to be some level of crazy, eh?” You giggled picking up another cord after untangling the first.

“You bet sweetheart.” He turned his body more towards you, pressing his thigh further into yours. You were sure you were about to explode from the contact. Hopefully it didn’t look like it. You had to play this cool. You’ve been doing so damn good over the last few weeks. But he was making it hard, very hard, “So.” He continued before pausing again giving you a look as he picked up another tangled cable.

“So.” You responded by looking back at him. He was giving you a look you had yet to see from him just yet. Almost nervous?

“Where are you off to next? Doesn’t seem like you stay in one place for too long.”

You shrugged, “I’ll be honest. I don’t have a clue. I like it here though. Usually something just falls into my lap taking me onto the next thing…” You smiled reminiscing through some memories before continuing, “But like I said. I like it here. The weather is amazing, and the people are even better.”

You really hadn’t thought about moving on. Not yet at least. It felt like you’d finally gotten into a rhythm here. Normally that’d terrify you. But it felt so damn right here. Like something was begging you to stay. That something might have been sitting there in front of you. Even if you’ve only been here a few months and known him less than that it still felt right. If there was one thing you always did was trust your gut and it was telling you to stay. Screaming at you to stay. It was a foreign feeling for you, but you welcomed it. The nomadic lifestyle was utterly exhausting and somewhat lonely. You were ready for change as you approached your thirtieth year.

He cracked another smile at your last statement, “Yeah? Even better than the Swiss?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded looking up to him again. You could’ve melted right then in there if humans could. The look he was giving you could make a strong man weak, “Way better than the Swiss. Much cuter too.” You chimed in making sure he knew you were talking about him.

“High praise.” He smirked leaning his whole body just a bit closer. You’d usually protest as it was so fucking hot out but this was a dream for you. Jake was practically on top of you this time. It must have looked funny from a distance. Two sweaty young people lost in each other’s eyes almost on top of each other on the beach.

“It’s only the truth.” Your face was so close to his. God you’d give anything to just kiss him. But you wouldn’t dream of making that move. That’s far too bold even for you. And what if he didn’t want it? You’d never be able to live down that kind of embarrassment.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m planning on staying for a little while too. I’m tired of jumping base to base. I just want to stay somewhere for a while you know?”

“It’s tiring.” You agreed with him, “I get it.”

“Would you stay here?”

You nodded your head vigorously, “I would. For the right reasons.”

Licking his lips while looking at yours he mimicked your head nod, “Good to know.”

The Fifth Incident

Standing waist deep in the ocean you wanted to be annoyed but the man standing in front of you was making that very difficult to do so. His cute little grin and snickers only made you laugh along with him, “Which one’s the gas again?” Jake asked leaning back on the jet ski you were trying to get him to take out.

“Right hand is the throttle, for the fourth time Mr. Seresin.” Playfully rolling your eyes you walked around the jet ski to do the final checks ensuring it was up to snuff before he took it out on the ocean.

Grinning from ear to ear he knew he had you. He had you wrapped around his pinky finger. Not that he was any different. You had him whipped and you weren’t even dating yet. Instead, the two of you were dancing around deeper emotions every time you saw one another. And the two of you sure did see each other as often as possible. After he helped you untangle the mess that was the parasail the two of you made it a point to see each other every day. He’d come find you while you were wrapping up work or you’d meet him at the Hard Deck.

You’d even gone so far as to meet a few of his Navy friends, at his request. Being far too nervous and not having a clue what the relationship was with the blonde pilot you were nervous to meet them. He wouldn’t take no for an answer though, bringing them to you instead.

As unshy as you were with your opinions it was becoming harder and harder to have the ‘what are we?’ conversation with him. You were having far too much fun in this stage that you didn’t want to ruin it. You started to have legitimate feelings for the flighty boy. It terrified you a bit. The last time you allowed yourself to feel things it ended horribly.

But even you had to admit you were exhausted of running. Running from feeling things. Afraid to commit to somebody. Afraid to tie yourself down.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.,” Wiggling his eyebrows he leaned over towards you as you finished up the pre-op checklist.

“You’re welcome, Hangman.” This time you were smirking, loving to throw him off his game whenever you could. Initially refusing to use the call sign you decided to only throw it out there when you felt like you needed to one up him.

Eyes raised in curiosity he broke out into a grin seeing your expression. He’d never felt like this before. Felt so effortlessly comfortable around somebody. Like he knew you’d never judge him for a thing. You’d be there for him no questions asked. The two of you just clicking like nothing he’d ever experienced in his lifetime. He had to admit it terrified him a bit. But he was also excited. To try something new. To dive into a relationship with you headfirst. So long as that’s what you wanted. That’s why he was playing it so cool. He knew how much of a flight risk you were if he moved to fast. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you before he even had the chance to try it out. So, he decided to let you get comfortable and hopefully make a move. If you were too afraid to do so he’d do it eventually. He had nothing but time with you though. So, he wasn’t going to rush it. Terrified to mess it up before it started.

“So how long do I get out there darling?” He was testing your boundaries now. Wanting to see how you’d react.

Your heart rapidly picked up pace hearing that term of endearment escape his lips knowing that you could really get used to hearing it, “Thirty minutes. Then I have paying customers booked. So don’t be late.” You eyed him making sure he got your message loud and clear. He’d been begging you to go on one, but you’ve quite literally been booked out. Busy season was mad. But you had a customer cancel on you last minute which gave Jake the opportunity.

“Got it. See you soon pretty.” He shot you a wink before speeding off. Making sure to splash you with the throttle. Flipping him off you rung your hair out as you walked out of the ocean.

You’d only noticed he’d been gone for a little too long when the next clients walked up. You searched the ocean spotting Jake drifting a little bit further out than he should’ve been. Hopping on the reserved Jet Ski for staff you took off in his direction.

“What the hell Jake? I said thirty minutes.” You frowned at him pulling up beside his weirdly quiet one.

“I would’ve darling but well, it died on me.”

“Hop on.” You sighed annoyed the stupid thing gave out on you. It always reminded you of how cheap the dude who ran this place was.

You hooked the tow line up to it, getting good at it now, before towing everything in, “Looks like you caught me at a bad time.” You felt him chuckle as he pressed his chest into your back. Taking full advantage of being the passenger. You were thankful you couldn’t see his shirtless chest, that’d surely send you over the edge now.

“At least it’s you this time.” You laughed along with him. You felt as his arms tightened around your waist. Pulling him all that much closer to you.

Much to your chagrin you reached the beach before you knew it. Jake waited around as you got the family off on their adventure. Approaching him with a grin on your face you sat next to him at the picnic table by the shack, “Have fun at least?” You asked.

“Absolutely. Any time I get to spend with you is a good time.”

Pushing his side lightly you hid your gaze away from him, “Cheesy.”

“Only for you.” He snaked his arm around your waist. Not forcing you to look up to him but letting you know he had you.

Another goofy grin graced your features. He always knew what to say, “You’re sweet to me Jake.”

He nodded, “Because I like you. A lot. You know that right?” He admitted straight out. He let you go at your own pace, but he wanted you to know now. He knew. He adored you. He’d never felt this type of way with anybody before you. He thought he had but he realized he hadn’t. This was something special.

“You do?” Confusion then joy broke out from your face

“I do.” His smile turned up even further seeing the recognition cross your face. Had you really not known? Or were you in your own head like he had been so many times before?

“Like more than friends like?” You asked to confirm.

“Way more than friends.”

“Oh, wow.” You turned away heart racing. Sure, your face was as bright as a cherry tomato it was now or never. He’d laid it all out on the line for you. You could do it.

“Hopefully that’s a good wow.” Smirking he leaned a little closer to you.

It felt like your heart stopped for a moment, “It’s a very good wow.”

“Yeah? Then you’ll let me take you on a date?” Jake didn’t often look nervous, but he looked terrified now. He hadn’t expected this. Not even in the slightest. But he’d roll with it.

“You’d want to?” You returned your eyes back to his.

“Oh darling, I’d love to.” He reassured you taking your hand in his.

“Then I say yes.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You that excited?” You teased him.

“Sweetheart, I’m more than excited. Whatever that is.” Tossing you a wink he stood from his seat, “I’ll pick you up at six. Can’t wait to see you pretty.”

[croquis-el]

Continuing the theme of Naruhodou’s character, I would like to mention a few more striking details that run like a red thread throughout the series of games.

In addition to the incredible strength of spirit, perseverance and stubbornness, which I wrote about in the post below, the fandom also (fortunately) mentions his secrecy (he doesn’t reveal much about himself). But since I’ve already seen such a post and I’m unlikely to make a discovery for anyone, I won’t repeat it.

I want to talk about Naruhodou's short temper, his impulsiveness and how this complements his complex personality and difficult character.

Again, to avoid confusion: Naruhodou = Wright

It was a discovery for me that some part of the fandom considers Naruhodou an extremely patient person, ready to put the brakes on absolutely everything.

After all, this is not the case.

He isn't afraid that his words can touch a person to the quick (especially when it comes to the truth). There are times when he speaks without thinking or after thinking poorly (however, more often he speaks directly, clearly and carefully calculating his moves). He also doesn't give up his words, and if he understands that he was wrong, he admits it to his opponent, accepting defeat.

Returning to the topic of temper: Naruhodo can be easily angered. He is short tempered. Hothead. His dynamite fuse is quite short. It ignites quickly, explodes and cools down as quickly as the ash settles.

The first time (if we consider the chronology of events) we are faced with the consequences of Naruhodou's temper and subsequent anger is during 3-1 (Turnabout Memories; jp: 思い出の逆転).

Naruhodou testifies that after he listened to warnings about his girlfriend from her ex-boyfriend, he became very angry. Not believing a word of it, he lost his temper and “lightly” pushed the guy in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground (that’s strength!). Eventually, after his outburst, he began to worry (the ash had settled) and returned to check on Nonda (Doug Swallow), but unfortunately this led to his further arrest (again, when he made an impulsive decision to flee the scene of the crime).

Even if we ignore or question what Chinami (Dahlia) said where she mentions that Naruhodou can be quite violent (because all of her testimony was created to frame him), he himself mentions this several times in his testimony. Naruhodou himself knows that his behavior can change dramatically as a reaction to words or moments that are unpleasant for him.

Naruhodou has some patience, but it quickly runs out and he loses control over the volume of his voice and the words he speaks. He gets very annoyed by the strange or dishonest behavior of others and he unconsciously begins to raise his voice (this is all accompanied by a shaking screen while typing).

Naruhodou also admits that he can act like a child when he is angry.

Those who are spared the consequences of Naruhodo's temper are children. Naruhodo does not raise his voice or get angry at either Harumi (Pearl), Minuki (Trucy), or Ahlby Ur'gaid (Bokuto Tsuani) for their words or behavior.

The courtroom is no exception.

In most cases, Naruhodou pays close attention to his speech and behaves accordingly when in the halls of law. However, when his patience comes to an end and control of his voice recedes into the background, the judge is forced to reprimand Naruhodou. (But I want to write about Naruhodou’s behavior in and out of the courtroom, as well as his increased control over his outbursts and emotions, in a separate post.)

It is also impossible not to mention his impulsive actions, which he commits at the peak of emotions (the decision to study law, cross a burning bridge, defend the accused even under the threat of the death penalty, and other equally reckless ones). Despite this, he doesn't regret for a minute such turning points in his life.

I admire how alive and multifaceted Naruhodou turned out to be. He has many qualities that make the character very interesting. He isn't perfect, but at the same time, I want to sing odes and give flowers for him (beg, not only me).

P.S.

Let me remind you once again that English is not my native language.

I'm using screenshots from the game from the adaptation because the main post is still in English, and when translating from my native language or from Japanese, there may be misinformation that I would like to avoid.