#and i shut the door in front of 5 people when they still had 10 mins left to wait for our parents to arrive to pick them up

[chappellrroan]

this house is so fun when it's just us kids and no parents

[screwitbaby]

naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

day 2/7

[part 3]

summary: this is part two of my short story about the boys’ trip to curaçao (read the other one first, or don’t). hamzah’s getting you all riled up and mandy and martin begin to notice his unusual behavior with you.

contains: SFW content

wc: 2k-ish

~

You wake up to an empty bed and some part of you feels disheartened at the sight. The only evidence of Hamzah ever being there is the indent in the pillow and the shorts he borrowed folded neatly atop the mattress. You sit up to stretch, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 10:02 and you decide to get dressed.

When you grab your phone on the way out, you see a text message light up your screen.

morning :)

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, but before you can type out your reply, a pair of large hands grab your shoulders and you nearly launch into the ceiling.

"Fuck—Hamzah!"

He cackles at your scream. You slap his arm, immediately shutting him up as he rubs the spot to soothe it.

"Dumbass," you grumble.

"Good morning to you, too." The grin on his face doesn't fade for a second.

"Whatever.” You shut the front door and walk down the hallway alongside him. “When did you wake up?”

"'Round 9,” he yawns out. "Martin called me back and we got the room situation sorted."

He pulls his new key card out of his wallet and holds it between his fingers to show you. “Nice.”

Upon finding the hotel pool already chock-full of people, the two of you decide to meet Mandy and Martin at a restaurant they told Hamzah they'd be at. The GPS on your phone’s map gives you a hard time and you nearly walk into oncoming traffic with your nose deep in the screen. Hamzah reaches out to grab your forearm and pulls you back right as a taxi flies by.

"That was way too close," he says. Both of you breathe heavily at the realization that it could've ended way worse. "I think I know where it’s at anyway, just follow me."

"Sorry," you apologize, blushing. He smiles and shakes his head to dismiss your embarrassment. His hand stays on the middle of your back as he leads the rest of the way. The sparks you feel from his touch can hardly be ignored.

You get seated in a booth with the couple, who have already ordered some appetizers in anticipation of your arrival. The four of you dig into some sort of steamed veggie dish and catch up.

"Martin kept me up all night," Mandy says.

"Yeah, I got stamina." Martin nonchalantly shrugs.

"No, you literally passed out the moment you went to bed." She rolls her eyes. "I had to check if he was breathing, like, 5 times."

"She got yo lying ass, boy," Hamzah says, laughing with you. "I think I was snoring all night. Those drinks had me messed up."

"You weren't," you assure him.

"How do you know that?" Martin diverts the attention to you.

"Because someone was dead asleep and couldn't help his best friend get back into his hotel room," Hamzah replies pointedly. Martin sinks into his seat and takes a bite of food while pouting.

"So, you guys were stuck in the same bed?" Mandy asks, genuinely interested. "How'd that go?"

"It was—"

"We were—"

You look at each other and you nod your head, gesturing for him to talk first. He nods back and places his hand on your knee under the table before continuing. Your heart leaps to your throat.

"We were watching some show in Dutch that we couldn't understand until we knocked out."

"That's it?" This earns Martin a light smack on the arm from Mandy and a fiery glare from you.

"Was it the one with the bald dad and the ginger kids?"

"Yeah, how'd you—?"

"I watched it with Martin's mom the day before we came. It’s pretty popular here."

Hamzah's hand is still on your knee, occasionally running his thumb over your skin like it's the most natural thing in the world. You try to be attentive and contribute to the conversation, but it's a struggle when your mind is constantly wandering. When the waiter comes to take your orders, you choose something random off the menu because you were too lost in thought. You’re starting to think you need to be spayed because of how much this affects you.

"I can't believe we have to leave in a week," Hamzah says. You look up from the table.

"Don't remind me," you groan.

"I miss Rudy," Mandy admits with a sigh, "and Fish and Carl, of course."

"Every parent has their favorites.” Martin shrugs.

Your food arrives after some more chatter. Hamzah's hand leaves the spot on your thigh he’d slowly worked up to and you feel like you can breathe again. This trip has made you guys a lot closer than you ever anticipated, but it makes you wonder how things will be once you get back home.

“Wanna bite?” Hamzah whispers to only you. “It’s pretty good.”

“Lemme try.” You pluck a piece of omelette from his plate and bite into it. “Yum. Try mine.”

He shovels a scoop of your yogurt bowl into his mouth and hums. “Let’s split?”

“Yes, please.”

The meal ends with Martin paying for Mandy and Hamzah paying for you, in a surprise turn of events. You try to fight him back on it, but once he swipes his card without a word you know it's settled.

"All that YouTube money has gone to your head," you joke.

"I got fat stacks."

"Ew." You and Mandy cringe.

The couple walks ahead of you up the street and the two of you walk side by side.

"Was that alright?" Hamzah asks once the others are out of earshot.

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know, me paying." He nudges your shoulder. "It felt like the right thing to do."

"It did?" you ask, a smile growing on your face. "I didn't mind it."

"Good, good..." He walks with his hands in his pockets, kicking a rock every couple of steps.

"I actually thought it was cute."

He exhales through his nose, smiling at the ground. "Was it?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Thanks, Hamzah."

"No biggie."

You scrunch up your face and he laughs once he sees your expression. His laughter could cure even the most fatal illnesses, you're convinced. You take steps in unison for a bit—right, left, right, left—until he clears his throat to speak again.

"And, um," he starts, licking his lips. "When I put my hand on your leg..."

"Mhm?" You enjoy seeing the way his face contorts as he tries to find his words.

"Was that... alright, too?"

"I didn't mind it," you repeat.

He shakes his head and this time it's your turn to laugh. The tips of his ears turn red under his hat, making your heart pound at the sight. He fixes the hat tighter on his head and you fight the urge to tuck one of his stray curls behind his ear. Instead, you find that your feet lead you closer to his side, your fingertips brushing past his ever so slightly.

The couple eventually stops at a building and the two of you rush to catch up.

"We made it, kids," Martin says with a smile once you reach them.

"An art museum?" Hamzah questions as he reads the sign at the door. "Are we museum people?"

"We are now," Martin says, turning to walk inside.

"He's been talking about this since we landed," Mandy explains. "C'mon, guys."

Your group enters the museum and you look around at the historic paintings and sculptures from various Curaçaoan artists. Any and all doubt is washed from your mind as you make your way through the space, carefully observing art you haven't had the pleasure of seeing before. Hamzah follows close by, never straying too far as to not miss the way you react to each piece with 'oo's and 'ah's.

"Here's what we came for!" Martin points at a painting in the corner.

You walk closer and catch sight of a beautiful beach landscape. There's bright green shrubbery in the forefront, leading up to a peachy-toned sunset with tropical birds flying in the background. Mandy excuses herself to check out the gift shop and Martin huddles the three of you together.

"One day, I'm gonna propose to her here," he whispers. His finger traces the plaque below the canvas. You'd been to this beach the day you touched ground in Curaçao. It was the first thing you guys did, even before checking in at the hotel.

"Martin," you gasp, eyes wide. He shushes you and you lower your voice. "That's so sweet, oh my god."

"She walked right by it," he beams. "She has no clue."

"That's great, man." Hamzah clasps his hand on Martin's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "She'll love it, for sure."

"I can't believe I'm gonna be a maid of honor," you squeal as quietly as you can. Martin shushes you again but you can barely contain your excitement, turning to Hamzah to find his eyes already on you.

"What makes you so sure it'll be you?" he teases.

"It will be." You raise your eyebrows, challenging him to say otherwise.

"As long as I can be best man."

You take a couple pictures of Martin standing next to the painting with his thumbs up, narrowly avoiding Hamzah's photobombing attempts. When you finally walk away, Martin motions for you both to zip your lips. You mime crossing your heart and make your way to the gift shop.

There's shelves of souvenirs with prints of the art pieces from the museum, as well as some nearby tourist attractions that you recognize from visiting recently. You get to the jewelry section and run your fingers across the array of bangles and necklaces, hearing how they jingle as they move. Once you get to the end of the table, you notice a reddish-brown beaded bracelet.

"'Handmade,'" you mumble, reading the tag.

Hamzah stops close by your turned back and sees what's caught your attention from over your shoulder. "What's that?"

"Isn't it pretty?" You slip the bracelet onto your wrist and hold it up to show him. He grabs another one, doing the same.

Mandy suddenly calls for you and you walk over to her.

"I want this book so bad." She holds up a leather bound book with golden letters on the front, flipping through the pages to reveal photographs of nearby landmarks. "Wouldn't it look cute on our coffee table?"

“We have so much stuff from this trip already—“ Martin starts, but upon seeing Mandy’s glare, agrees.

You conclude that married life would suit them very well.

Your group loiters around the museum until you've seen everything it has to offer, snapping a few pics of your favorites along the way. Hamzah volunteers to take a few aesthetic photos of you, but when you get your phone back, your camera roll is full of him making funny faces. You know you’ll get him back for it eventually.

The four of you make it halfway back to the hotel when you look down and realize the bracelet is still on your wrist. You halt in the middle of the sidewalk and curse at the wind.

"Guys," you call out, making them stop as well. "I'll meet you there, I forgot to put this bracelet back."

"You stole?" Martin exaggerates. "Dang it, now we're all accomplices!"

"Say it louder, why don't you?" You roll your eyes, turning on your heels to walk back up the street.

"YOU STO—"

Hamzah slaps his palm across his friend's mouth, "I got it, don't worry."

"What?" You turn back.

He holds his free hand up and shakes the bracelet on his wrist. "I paid already. You don't have to go back."

You part your lips, but no words come out.

Mandy and Martin share a glance with each other, him mumbling something unintelligible. Hamzah drops his hands and fidgets with his hat.

"I feel bad," you finally say, your cheeks warming up uncontrollably. "You're too nice."

"I wish I had a sugar daddy," Martin complains. You collectively ignore him.

"Thank you, Hamzah," you say with a smile. "I appreciate it."

"You liked the bracelet, so..." He shrugs it off.

The walk back to the hotel commences and you feel your pulse thumping with each step. Once again, the couple get ahead of you two, but that’s fine by you. Mandy turns a few times to make eye contact with you and raise her eyebrows ridiculously. You just shake your head and try not to grin too hard.

The weather is muggy and the sun is beaming on your heads, but Hamzah’s warm hand finds yours despite it all. Your bracelets graze each other and you wordlessly make a pact to not let go.

~

a/n: u get what u want in the next part ya filthy animals!!! also sorry i took so long, i’m still not 100% happy w how this turned out but i wanted to pump something out before u guys start chasing me w wooden stakes and pitchforks :-)

[f1fnatic]

100 WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU ⤿ l. norris 4

→ ( in which. . . ) it is your and lando's 4 year anniversary and as a gift, you give him a journal of 100 entries of moments during your relationship, here are some of lando's favorite moments.

→ ( type of fanfic. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) lando norris x sainz!reader (gender not specified

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) this is coming from lando's pov, jumps from 2022-2024 at the end

→ ( author's note. . . ) this is my first time with a short summary type of fic, i hope you enjoy! see the end for more

→ ( masterlist )

→ 12/5/2019, the day we first met

it was my first time in the f1 paddock and carlos had invited me to the spanish gp. you accidentally bumped into me, which caused my piping hot, freshly brewed espresso to spill all over the front of my blouse. you apologized briefly before running off to do whatever media duty you had for that day. later, after the grand prix was over, carlos made you apologize the right way and made you buy me a new shirt. p.s that shirt is one of my favorites :)

→ 24/10/2019, the day we hung out 1 on 1 for the first time

we went to lunch and then found this quaint drive-in movie on the outskirts of monaco. they were playing my favorite summer-time movie, grease. i got to see a different side of you that day. you didn't have carlos to bounce off of, it was sweet to see you for you. your presence was so comforting to me. you were so relaxed and laid back. you fell asleep in my lap and that was when your worries truly melted away. i was very giddy after you left, it just so happened to be the first time my heart fluttered at the thought of you. p.s.s sorry for quating grease so much

→ 31/12/2020, new years eve

the day you kissed me for the first time. at first, i was surprised and thought the alcohol was making you act brash and forward. but after you didn't move away, i knew it was on purpose. i do not know what i could have done if you didn't kiss me. carlos got this picture of us and it has become one of my favorites. it marks such an important milestone in our relationship.

→ 23/3/2020, lockdown

when the uk officially shut down their borders and went into lockdown. monaco had shut theirs down a month prior, so i came to live with you until i couldn't anymore. it was hard, i didn't want to leave you and go back to monaco. we were still figuring out if we wanted to be in a relationship and i knew that the time apart would be difficult to navigate. so much uncertainty and change. it helped us grow into the people we are now <3

→ 31/8/2020, the day you asked me to be your partner

it also just so happened to be my birthday. we had been facetiming almost every day/night. i was watching every single grand prix to show my undying support for you. your unofficial home grand prix the day before had gone well, and i remember being so proud of you. you woke me up by surprising me at my apartment door in monaco with a bouquet of my favorite flowers, as well as my favorite snacks. i couldn't help but cry, but then you asked one of the most important questions ever, and obviously i said yes!

→ 8/31/2021, our 1 year anniversary

wow, i could not believe that we had been together for 365 days. one full orbit of the earth around the sun. you yourself are my sun, lando. the light of my life. that night you surprised me with a high-end massage since we were still in lockdown. you do not know how much i appreciated that, work had made me so stressed. it was wonderful to relax. i remember you being upset because we couldn't spend it together and promised that we would never spend another anniversary apart, and so far, you have.

→ 4/1/2022, when i asked you to move in with me

everything leading up to the moment i asked you was so nerve-wracking that i was trying not to have an anxiety attack. i was so scared that you weren't going to say yes, but, obviously you did. once you moved in, my apartment finally felt like a home. it felt so full with you. the happiness that would run through my veins when i saw that your things were next to mine. your clothes next to mine in the closet, our coffee mugs side by side on the countertop, and our shoes piled next to the door, waiting for us to go out together. that was and still is one of my happiest memories <3

→ 14/2/2022, valentines day

our first valentines together in person as a couple! we had such a beautiful ocean view breakfast that you surpirsed me with (it was delicious btw) and then later that night, you took me to dinner and had max decorate our bedroom while we were out. have it on record that that was my favorite night ever ;)

→ 1/7/2022, our first grand prix as a couple

this just so happened to be the day that we confirmed we were dating!! it was such a weight lifted off of my shoulders to finally be able to call you mine in public. the fans were so supportive. i felt so much pride to be able to wear a jersey with your name on it. that whole weekend was bliss.

→ 31/8/2024 our 4 year anniversary

today. that's all i have to say. today has been the best day and everything i could ask for. today you surprised me with the biggest question of my life. today you asked me to marry you. and, without any hesitation, i said yes. of course, i would say yes. lando, you are the best thing to have ever happen to me. you are my world, my everything, my star in a field of black. you have brought such happiness into my life that i can't even BEGIN to describe. i am so unbelievably happy that you bumped into me that fateful day in the mclaren paddock. if you hadn't, who knows where we would be. i love you so much lan, here is to 4 years and so many more.

woww two posts in the span of a week what is happening... i was deciding to add pictures but i could not find any good ones that made sense for the entries. anyways, requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

[ruruvxz]

“10:36”

Girlfriend!Kim Minji x Cheater!Reader

ft. Marsh Danielle

↳ synopsis: L/N Y/N, named one of the sweetest girl in the planet finally rots her girlfriend’s heart. Any sane person would feel sad, maybe even a little regretful and accommodating for all their wrong doings. Not Y/N though, she's kept it in for a long time, her heart has gone bitter and cold, and she knows what she’s doing is wrong, but who can blame such a sweetly wretched heart.

↳ cw: cheating, commitment issues, morally gray reader, codependency, Minji is lovesick and blind, hurt no comfort, reader has implied chronic depression, victim blaming, swearing, pure angst

↳ word count: 4.6k

a/n: read this Karina fic where she kept cheating on me… which gave me an striking idea, mentally ill, unapologetic, rude and overall not a good person, Reader! anyways you don’t need to listen to 10:36 but I highly recommend listening to it since it’s such a great song. And yes I am personally beefing with Y/N even if I wrote them (fluff ver. apple cider)

Your eyes looming to the TV, not paying attention to whatever was playing. I mean you couldn't concentrate due to your phone blowing up, notification after notification of all your failed hookups barking at your phone like a rabid pack of dogs. God, do people know when to shut up nowadays? It was aggravating how much they pleaded for closure, and who were they to demand that from you? You're the sweet innocent Y/N L/N after all.

Before you even got to text them back some bullshit excuse your eyes darted to the front from the sudden click. You carefully examined the door pushing it open at an agonizingly slow pace, sighing as your eyes met Minji's as she slid her way inside, her eyes bagging with how deeply exhausted she was. She meets your blank stare with a meek smile, pushing down any emotions built inside of you after your recent rendezvous with another lover, you put on your best fictitious grin.

"Baby!" You cheered, getting up from the leather couch, the same one Minji gifted you when you both first moved in with one another. Quickening your pace as you ran towards her, wrapping your arms around her neck, Minji was left letting out a coy smile before kissing your cheek. Usually, she would be greeted by another empty living room with the kitchen light dimly lighting the surrounding vicinity, it was depressing but she had a 9/5 and you took the night shift. (Or that's what you would tell her.)

Needless to say, seeing your bright smile was more than pleasant, her overworked eyes lightening up as you continued to hug her. "Ah, bug, you're still here?" She smiled hugging you tighter, grasping you almost as if you were to disappear at any moment in time. As you both stand in each other's embrace your mind couldn't help but let your mind drift to someone else.

"Fuck, I wish Danielle was here with me..."

You knew how terrible it was to imagine someone else's grasp, especially since you were imagining your girlfriend's best friend of all people... And to be frank, there was no other valid explanation for feeling this way. But you felt so devoid of any strong emotion, it truly made you feel disgusted with yourself but what could you do?

Minji softly grabbed a piece of your hair to stroke before you eventually led her over to the couch to spend some quality time with her. I mean, that's the least you could do after what you went off doing while she wasn't home.

Danielle messaged you late last night wondering if she could plan an outing for the next day, and you (not-so) hesitantly agreed to her offer. It was a terrible thing to do since you've already learned about her immature crush on you, but it wouldn't lead to anything, right? Nevertheless, you still decided to get lunch together, and she brought you to your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant. (Not exactly, in reality, it was something you despised because it was the only restaurant Minji would bring you time and time again. Danielle, and many others, were under the assumption it was somewhere you LOVED going to. And who could blame them, you would always post photos promoting the establishment whilst hiding out Minji from any photo.)

It was a fusion restaurant, but the overall atmosphere was an American-style family diner. The ones you'd see in 80's sitcoms that Minji begged you to watch with you, it was tacky, but they stayed engraved in your head. Danielle would drag you to the table nearest to the window to get the clearest view of the sky, but you'd much rather sit in the booth in the corner, hidden away from the world. Of course, of how accommodating Danielle was she gave in to your request, despite that hiccup the day "outing" continued as scheduled. Eating her meal she ordered claims that the burgers are "The best she's ever had since moving from Australia" but in reality, you think it's nothing special.

You ordered the same thing you usually do, carnitas tacos messily plated on a plastic dish, it usually tasted so bland though somehow sharing it with her tasted so much better than eating it with anyone else. You hated to admit it because you already had someone waiting for you at home but she made the world stop for a bit, made staying still for a moment seem so... bearable. For once in your pathetic existence you felt like you understood something and just wanted to sit down and talk.

"Mmm, Y/N—it's really good!" Danielle spoke up, parts of her burger decorated the corners of her face as she munched. Laughing at her childlike behavior you wipe the excess crumbs off her mouth, noticing her slight blush plaster across her face as you pull back to speak.

"Mhm?" You replied turned off your phone and flipped it over on the table giving her your full attention. Her voice was just too adorable to ignore. You knew you found yourself despicable for giving her more attention than you had given Minji for the past few months. But you couldn't stop yourself, it was so lonely and you just needed a warm body to hold, just until your girlfriend could come back to you.

She nodded her head hurriedly before shoving another fry into her mouth before she spoke once more. "Yup!! Look open your mouth" She'd pick up the fries and line it up up to your mouth, cautiously leaving your mouth agape before she shoved the fries into your mouth. It surprised you how fast she inserted it into your mouth you started aggressively coughing before she apologized profusely.

After your little outbreak, you start laughing uncontrollably at how concerned she looked, she whacked your head from the other side of the table while you continued to laugh. But you didn't have the heart to tell her that the fries she force-fed you tasted like generic McDonald's fries but, with that face, could you say anything? Danielle looked so captivating, an allure you hadn't felt in months, and before you knew it it was already 8:14. Minji comes back at 9 and you shouldn't risk coming home late AGAIN.

"Ah, I'm so sorry Dani, it's already so late, I need to be home at 9." You commented cutting her story off short about how she met up with a coworker of hers during some mindless shopping spree. She looked understanding but disappointed nevertheless as she was hoping she could spend more time with you even if it was in this cramped restaurant.

You looked into her eyes once more before getting up to take your leave, she looked stumped but quickly regained her composure as an idea flashed across her mind. "Okay! I'll drop you off at the train station then!" She stood up and let her hand out for you to grab. Once you stood up she interlocked your fingers together, your heart beating out of your chest as she did. What person would react like this to a friend, let alone someone who was in a relationship, but god were you one sick bastard to reason with yourself? You knew you'd done worse with others so why was this any different?

After minutes of slow walking and talking mindlessly with one another you finally arrived at the station, it was a tad disappointing but you knew it had to end soon. Climbing up the stairs your hands continued to lock in with one another, you felt her suddenly yank away. Turning back to see what happened you noticed one of her heels came off, but coincidentally your train just arrived.

"Oh Y/N go on, I'll get on the other one, it's just another 10 minutes!" She defensively said. Instead of listening to her you ran down the stairs and grabbed her heels, even if you were struggling a little bit to get back up you were happy to help her. You handed her back her heel as you heard the train plow through once more, the screeching metal tracks lingering as it drove off.

Danielle looked down at you as you handed her the heel with a worried face, she looked so bothered but you reassured her. "Even if the train leaves, it's worth it, it's worth waiting for you" You smiled before grabbing her hand once more and dragging her back up to the platform, the light-dark enough to cover her red face.

"Y/N" She laughed as she dropped her bag and hugged you tightly, her embrace was soft and loving you didn't want to leave it. (Nor do you deserve such an affectionate interaction.) You broke the hug before she led you to a, presumably empty, seating area, the sunlight dropping and sinking. While you sat there together Danielle was content sitting down with you in complete silence as it meant being by your side.

"I'm sorry for making you wait." She sighed awkwardly trying to break the silence you created, her body immediately straightened as you rested your head on her shoulder. Her breath hitched as you grabbed her warm hands, the nightfall being significantly colder.

"It's fine that we have to wait, I love you." You trailed off, your mind not proceeding with the bullshit you slurred out of your mouth. It was a force of habit, no matter if it was Danielle or Minji, those stupid strings of words haunted your every moment. (Maybe if you were a little cautious, if you learned to shut your mouth maybe you wouldn't have to be calling people at night while Minji was in deep sleep, explaining in slurred words "I have this thing where I— I can't be by myself— but look...")

The memory of what you accidentally slipped up to Danielle came back to haunt you, why would you ever say that, but regardless you couldn't break your facade now, not with Minji resting quietly on your lap. "How was your day love" You twirled her hair as she dozed off by your touch, she was so soft and delicate. It reminded you of how she'd do the same after a long day, her hands caressing your head like a dog. She was silent but that's who she was. As you ran your hand through her jet-black hair, you were all over he, losing yourself, all before she snapped you out of your daze to speak. "It was okay, but great now that you're with me." She smiled underneath you, she reached her hand above to your face to caress your mellow cheeks, and your heart ached as she did so.

"How was yours, my dear?" She lifted her head dragging you a bit down to intertwine your lips tenderly, as she pulled back and laid back down on your thighs you felt your teeth sink into your lips. It was a force of habit but thank god she hadn't noticed as her head was locked into the TV, you felt yourself about to throw up at the idea of telling her what you did. As usual, you tried to play off what happened this afternoon like nothing happened.

Your hands shook as you continued to play with her hair wondering what lies you would spit through your teeth. "Mmm, nothing much I hung out with some friends then went back home to wait for my wonderful girlfriend." You beamed smiling hopelessly to not break the persons you've created.

"Friends, who? I'd love to meet them." She chuckled, turning her head back to meet your gaze, your hands slowly lifting up and away from her head. You rested them on the armrest, coughing at the thought of her finding you were out and about with her best friends who she didn't even know you talked to.

"Just Dani! She's asked me if she wanted to get lunch with her." You answered honestly, if you hadn't you knew you'd just dig yourself a deeper hole and lead to another heated argument, where you'd end up running off to sleep the night somewhere else.

"Oh." She scoffed, the realization of her best friend and her girlfriend being closer than she'd expected hurt her feelings a little more than it originally should've.

"What's wrong with that." You bite back, annoyed about how sassy she was becoming day by day, as if you were doing something— someone, she wasn't aware of.

"It's just... didn't know you were close with her like that." She raised her body from my lap and sat properly looking me in the eye, clearly annoyed by the situation. (To be fair, as hard as you tried to be sneaky with your late-night affairs, by claiming you had a night shift, she picked up on your inconsistencies fairly quickly. How you'd leave either before she arrived or after she slept became more and more oddly suspicious. Or how you'd often slip your phone away to your back pocket whenever she came closer to you. It was all messing with her brain and the sudden "connection" you had with Danielle made her more and more suspicious.)

"I guess but isn't, Dani—Danielle one of your closest friends, yet you talk shit like this about her?" You retorted, trying to hide your offense terribly at her statement, of course, she didn't mean any harm with what she said but it felt as if she was insinuating something. Something you didn't like. You took off your gaze from hers as you rested your head on your palm and raised the volume of the TV to drown her out.

Rightfully annoyed at your reaction she raised her voice just a little bit. "Well sorry, I'm sorry I feel uncomfortable by the fact you chose to get lunch with my friend, instead of your girlfriend!" She rolled her eyes and folded her arms, her frustration was enough to cause global warming. You bite your tongue once more, you didn't want to say anything you regretted but you couldn't just let her take a jab at you without any conviction.

"I mean, she didn't do anything to you? Yet you're being so aggressive." You replied as you grabbed the remote with your free hand to skim through the channels, every new show being broadcast made you even more aggravated. How could there be nothing good showing? You mashed the next button again and again as you heard her open her mouth once more.

"That's not what I meant it's just, for the past few months you've cared about going out with me? Sorry for feeling like that's so terrible!" She scorned as you still didn't pay any attention to her, continuing to skim through the shows on air today. You pushed your tongue to the inside corner of your cheek before you asserted another retort.

"Maybe if you weren't always so defensive and angry I would hang out with you" You laugh sarcastically under your breath annoyed, and you finally landed on Law & Order. It was Minji's comfort show but you couldn't care less about what she liked right now, all you wanted her to do was pipe down and calm down. She clenched her jaw at how dismissive and disrespectful you were, the fact you weren't even looking at Minji added more salt to the wounds.

She grabbed your shoulder yanking you hard enough to look at her, you paid her one single glance before swatting her hand away from my shoulder. She looked dumbfounded, as for the first time in her life she finally raised her voice, this time with real intention to get off on you. "What the fuck— Y/N! What is up with you recently??"

Oh, she's testing you right now, your blood pressure has risen significantly and you felt it harder to focus on what they were saying in the show. Finally giving in you pushed your head to lock into her enraged state. "You know what's fucking 'up with me' it's your attitude? I can't even hang out with my friends anymore?"

Minji was most definitely fed up at this point as she stared back at you, clenching her fist, stopping her from saying something atrocious. "Oh no you DEFINITELY can, you know what you can't do? Fucking leave your girlfriend in the middle of the night saying you have a night shift and leave me alone in our bed!" She spat out as she stood up trying to get that notion into your thick skull.

"I'd rather be in someone else's embrace than be with yours! FUCK, you're so fucking suffocating!" You shouted back, quickly regretting what you said, realizing a little too late that you had released a bit more information than you were trying to let on. But before you could take it back and apologize she was already standing over you, her hands covering her mouth.

Minji’s jaw unclenched, processing every word that came out of your mouth. "What." Her voice sounded shaky, she tried her hardest to sound stern but you knew her long enough to know it was just a facade. Her face turned into someone who had just been told their loved one died, completely and utterly in disbelief.

It hurt seeing Minji so hurt, but it felt so good to get that out of your chest, she's been suffocating you for a year now, she should know where you’re coming from. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying for fairly long but after moving in with her it became harder to leave. "Fuck. It’s just—" You stopped before continuing “I wanna love you but I'm scared so I rather pretend”  You stood up and turned your body away from her, you didn't want to look at her at all. If you did, maybe you’d just run back by her side and then the cycle continues once more.

She covered her face between her palms, and looked up at the ceiling, just praying she'd wake up from this sick and twisted dream. "Y/N, please tell me. Are you?" She mumbled underneath her hands, but enough for me to tell what she said.

"Am I, what? Am I cheating on you?" You turned back at her with a disgusted face, not at her, but at yourself, you couldn’t fathom how you’d do something like this. After all, you experienced the same thing. You felt sick to your stomach but you knew she should already puzzle the answer together, yet she's still trying to ask.

"Just answer the fucking question" Her voice bubbling up with rage, after all the years of committing herself to you, you turn your back and do this? Oh how badly she wanted to make your life miserable after this. But a part of her didn't want to ask this question, she wanted, somehow, someway, you would turn a full 180 and tell her this was all some sick twisted joke.

“Fuck you Y/N… truly, fuck you— you kept me like a secret but I kept you like a fucking oath.” She spat out, grabbing out to you, the weight of your actions felt like a knife digging itself deeper into your heart. You were too cowardly to look at her, let alone answer her question. For someone so confident about cheating on her, you know stood in front of her unwilling to face the consequences.

"I—“ You cut yourself off, you did feel awful as you stared into her fiery gaze, but what was the point she already knew? "I’m so sorry.” You blurted out, it honestly came out as a statement then it did an apology, and by the looks of it, she looked even more infuriated.

"FUCK Y/N, PLEASE JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!" She screamed at you, making you jump a little, but with your broken ego, you weren’t going to take that, with crossed arms you announced your wholehearted answer.

"Yeah, I did, and it wasn’t with Danielle. Don’t worry about her…" You bitterly bit back trying to get it in through to her, you were truly so despised at this moment, but to save face you preached some half-assed excuse.

"You know Minji, it isn’t my fault— You're selfish, how do you not get it. For as long as I remember you've only ever thought about yourself." You said, leaving Minji to stand in utter anguish at the shit you were spewing. How could she be the selfish one? You bit back your tongue before realizing this was probably the only moment to let out everything you’ve built up over your whole relationship.

"I reach for you and you’re not there, I'm so fucking numb but you don't care. A part of me feels for you, but it hurts, it hurts so much." Her stare etching deeper into your mind, she didn’t bite back, but you could see through her fuming portrayal that tears were pooling from her eyes.

"enlighten me, my dear, why am I still here? Why did you even— why did you even pick me? You don't talk to me, you never want to talk about anything and you’re always just with Hanni. I know you're confused and hurt, but when I needed a warm body to hold, you were never there. And when you where you wanted too much from me— I didn’t know how I could give you everything" You inched closer to her wiping the tears off her face, she placed her hand on top of yours. Maybe this was the only emotionally intimate time you both had in months. As you rested her hand on her plush cheeks, you took a moment to appreciate her beauty one last time, she was gorgeous, undoubtedly, gorgeous.

(You couldn’t admit to yourself that this reminded you about the first time you met, your eyes locked with hers as she stumbled out of another stress-inducing meeting. She looked so out of it so you graciously offered her your apple cider, under the pretense that it was apple juice. You examined her as you were a bit surprised a young girl like her was working this late into the night, it was already 10:36. You looked back at her while stopping to laugh loudly as her eyes winced while chugging down your drink. She looked so annoyed but somewhat happy she met you, her drowsy eyes lighting up as you offered to get her an actual drink at a nearby bar. You had a bad habit of analyzing her, her hair smelt like a sweet fruit punch, and her smile was so infectious.

You remember holding her face just like this as you led her back to her apartment, she looked dazed out of her mind as you pulled her on her leather couch to rest. In a drunken state, she commented on how she liked your hair and pulled you down into her lap to play with it. You couldn’t stop your face from heating up but she didn’t happen to notice, she looked down at you and complimented the jacket you wore. So after that you always wore it, and even at this exact moment, you were wearing that stupid jacket once more.)

"I didn’t— as much as I hate you right now maybe we just got lost in translation… no— maybe I asked for too much." She weakly smiled biting back her rage while staring deeply at you.

"I've done the math there's no solution, we'll never last, I’m so sorry Minji, there’s just no universe where I can see our happy ending." Minji closed her eyes, biting her lips, maybe she already lost you, or maybe she never had you in the beginning, but all she knew this would be your last moments holding each other. Your heart constantly aching throughout the whole ordeal, as she leaned her head closer to yours your lips slowly touched, having one last passionate kiss, until you broke it up. Minji looked at you with sorrowful yet entrancing eyes as she connected your foreheads, forcing you both to lie in the moment.

"in the morning you're not in my bed, I'll just sleep until I fall dead, my love" She joked weakly as you intertwined your lips together once more before letting out a deep sigh. "I guess this is where you get your stuff and leave, Y/N" She pathetically laughed and more tears streamed down her face.

"Yeah, don't worry I'll be gone by tomorrow..." You turned away taking a breather, before taking one last look at the living room that we had built together. The walls were decorated with inside jokes and pictures you took together, you inspected every one of them, knowing she’d probably throw them out later on in life. Your eyes landed on the coffee pot she gifted you on your anniversary, she built it during her pottery lessons to surprise you, it didn’t work so well, but it was cute. You sigh as you look at the pictures all from different occasions like when you celebrated your first Christmas with her, or when she met your parents, the memories of each decoration hitting you like a train.

"Where are you going to go?" She asked trying to figure out where you’ll run off to now, you laughed for a moment, before looking back at her. Her hands balling up as she awaited your answer, you cupped her face again and smiled at her question.

"Probably crash out with my ex-roommate if she still has a spare room somewhere."

"Oh, uhm…" She laughed elegantly and hugged you tightly not wanting to let you go. "I'll drop you off wherever— whenever you need to go, just please stay with me tonight. It's only…” She trailed off looking at the clock.

“10:36,” You both say in unison.

guys count how much I referenced other songs… anyways back to writing fluff im literally started to tweak out

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man 14

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Corroded Coffin audition with Paige, and you take more than one risk.

6.2k Words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13)

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You asked Eddie as the rest of Corroded Coffin piled out of the back of his van and started pulling out their instruments. You pulled your jacket closer around you, trying to shield yourself from the bitter wind right outside of Live Mike Studios. “I’m really not trying to be the Yono Oko here.” 

“You’re fine.” Eddie reassured you for probably the hundredth time in the past two weeks. “You’re just here for moral support, and to show Paige and her suits that we have at least one fan.” He handed you his guitar case and you slung it over your shoulder as he grabbed the amp while the others were grabbing Gareth’s drum set and hauling it inside. 

“Do you need the amp?” you asked.

He stopped for a moment, his brows furrowed and then set it back down in the back of the van. “Right. They’ll have one inside.”

“I mean, we’re at a recording studio. It makes sense.” You replied as Eddie shut the van door and turned back to you. In the few moments he had been out in the cold, his nose and cheeks had turned red which only added to the anxiousness in his eyes. 

Eddie said it was fine for you to be here, so you decided that at this point it there was no use arguing. Actually, that point probably came about an hour ago when he picked you up, kicked Jeff into the back of the van and had you sit up front next to him as you drove out of Hawkins to the studio where Corroded Coffin would be meeting with Paige and her people. 

You were a little intimidated to meet Eddie’s ex, especially since she held the future of your... boyfriend?  Eddie in the palm of her hands. It had been only a few weeks since that night in his trailer, but things had been going surprisingly smoothly all things considered. There had been no more miscommunication, no faking intoxication to get rides home, and the deal you had with Steve was dead and buried. 

The only thing that seemed to hang between you and Eddie was that you two hadn’t talked about what you two were or might be. That was one thing you never could wrap your head around when Steve talked about going on dates. He’d be going on multiple dates with different women, but he said it was all casual right now. That he was dating, but it wasn’t like he had a girlfriend yet.   

You couldn’t imagine dating more than one person at a time. Steve said you were thinking about it too hard, you said you didn’t want to hear that from him. Steve said that you clearly were doing well with Eddie, so you didn’t need to worry about dating anymore. You said that you still didn’t fully understand the difference between dating and being boyfriend and girlfriend. Steve said if it bugged you that much then to just talk to him about it. You threw an empty receipt roll at him for daring to give you good advice for once. 

There hadn’t been a good time to bring it up yet. After that chat with Steve, Eddie had announced that Corroded Coffin had an official audition with Left Turn Media. This meant that Eddie’s time had been all but completely been consumed by band practice, school, and work at the Hideout. 

Not that he hadn’t made time for you, of course. Eddie had picked you up and dropped you off every shift he had at the Hideout where Bev promised that he could play. It turns out that possibly being signed got the band more stage time. Not much, but more than just the usual half-hour per week that was allotted to them. 

He spent his nights with you, coming over after school or work to hang out in your shitty little apartment that was still decorated for Halloween because you hadn’t had the time to take them down. Eddie said that he liked the decorations, and that he thought it was pretty metal that you went so hard for the holiday, which only encouraged your laziness in taking everything down. 

Things were going well, and your crush on Eddie only grew more by the day. You didn’t want to mess anything up with him by moving too fast. 

Besides, today wasn’t about that. Today was about Corroded Coffin and their audition with Paige. Eddie had been worried about this for weeks now, even though you had said several times that this audition felt like a formality and that Paige seemed to really want to have him on board. 

Eddie didn’t seem entirely convinced, pointing out that the last time they auditioned WR Records had wanted only him, and didn’t want Corroded Coffin as a whole. 

Everyone made it inside the studio, instruments in hand. Eddie had taken his guitar back and you assisted with bringing in the drumset to set up in the recording booth. The band looked around in awe at the interior, despite how simply laid out it was. There was a palpable excitement within the group as this moment became more and more real. 

“Eddie!” A girl with freckles and dark hair walked out into the lobby to greet you all. This had to be Paige. 

You stood to the side as Eddie and Paige hugged awkwardly, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Paige then went to the remaining members and shook their hands and introduced herself. The only other person she seemed to already know was Jeff. Eddie had mentioned that he had been the only one truly around for the first audition. 

Then she turned to you, and looked you up and down for a split second before offering her hand out. 

“I’m Paige, you must be the girl Eddie mentioned.” She said. 

You took her hand and told her your name. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

The girl Eddie had mentioned. Not girlfriend or the girl he was seeing. Dammit, you really needed to get out of your own head about that. That was a conversation for later, not right now. You and Eddie were dating, that was a fact. Eddie had turned down this girl to date you. 

But seeing the way Paige interacted with everyone, doubt crept into your mind as to why. Paige was pretty, there was no denying that. Her outfit was the perfect combination of professional and alternative and here she was, offing the guy you were dating everything he ever wanted. 

Then there was you, at your dead end job as the assistant managed of a retail store, wearing clothing you still wore in high school and completely clueless as to what the fuck you were supposed to do with your life and where you were supposed to be. 

Eddie and Paige belonged in music, anyone with two working brain cells could see that. Paige led everyone to the back area where there were several people waiting at the recording console. A few were in suits and a few looked like they had just crawled out of bed and staggered over. 

You weren’t sure which were more intimidating. 

“There’s some coffee and water on the table, if you’d like to grab something while we talk to the band.” Paige said with a smile. 

“Right, yeah.” You nodded and just as you were about to turn away, you felt someone grab your hand. 

Eddie gave your hand a squeeze and you swallowed any insecurity and gave him your best reassuring smile. 

“You got this.” you said, and leaned in to kiss his cheek before you realized what you were doing. You didn’t look at him as you made your way to the small coffee station and grabbed yourself some water. Your stomach was already tied up in knots and you were sure that coffee would turn your inside to liquid right now. 

You took a seat on a couch and watched as Eddie introduced himself and the band to the people in the room. Eddie’s skin looked pale with nerves, but other than that you would have thought that he had done this a hundred times. There was something about him that always exuded confidence, even when he was nervous. 

After everyone had shaken hands, Paige took over and led a few people in suits and at least one person in the beat up AC/DC t-shirt into a back room. Eddie turned to his band and nodded, and everyone filed into the booth to set everything up. 

The next hour was warm up and sound checks. The guy at the mixing booth kept muttering to himself and then giving directions in the microphone for everyone to hear him. Each time Eddie would nod and someone would adjust their instrument or play a sample. 

After about ten minutes of this, they launched into a warm up cover of an old Dio song, which they played twice, followed by the song they were actually going to audition with. 

You wished you could hear them, in the soundproof booth you could only see them playing their instruments. You almost got up to ask the guy at the booth for an extra set of headphones so that you could hear how they sounded. Based off of what you were seeing though... you weren’t confident that they were at their best. Eddie kept stopping them, and would either say something to the guy running the booth or to the rest of the band.

After about a half hour of this, the guy in the booth called for a break. Eddie was the first to set down his guitar and walk out, not looking at you as he made his way out to the hallway. You followed him instinctively, not looking the look on his face. 

In the hallway, Eddie was bonking his head against a vending machine, making the chips and candies inside rattle. 

“You know, a quarter would be easier to get something out.” you said, walking over to him. 

Eddie looked up at you, his fringe plastered to his forehead from sweat. “I think I’m losing it.” he said. “I can’t seem to get us together to play the way we should. We either sound like we’ve never been on a stage or too polished. This happened last time too.” 

“Have you tried imagining the audience in their underwear?” you offered. 

“The only person watching is the guy in the booth. He’s not the scary part.” Eddie turned his back to the machine and leaned against it. 

“What’s the scary part?” 

“Everything else.” He rubbed his face with a deep sigh. “Paige, getting a deal, letting my band down again... I can’t shake it.” 

“Whatever happened last time was a big deal, huh?” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You felt how tense he was, which worried you. 

“You have no idea.” he shook his head, dropping his hands. “Last time was a fever dream. It... fuck it’s hard to explain. Everyone kept telling me how real I was, that I had what it took to make it. I was going to meet all these major executives for a major label and I blew it. Now, I’m trying again and this time- this is gonna sound so fucking stupid.”

“I won’t judge.” you promised.

“This feels more real than last time and it’s throwing me off.” He admitted, his body sagging against the vending machine. “An instant record deal with the biggest company for metal? It felt like a goddamn fever dream where I was somebody. I did shit I wasn’t proud of to get there, and now I’m trying to do things right for once and I feel like I want to book it out of here screaming.” 

You grabbed his hand and his froze for a moment before squeezing it. 

“You know, I don’t think you should run away.” you said, looking at him. “Only one of us can be a p ussy, and I already took that title in 8th grade.”  

Eddie’s head snapped from the distance to your face, eyes wide. “What?”

“I mean, think about it. You’ve been playing for years at the Hideout, you rock. You know it, I know it, Paige knows it, and I suspect the rest of your band might know it too. You’ve gone this far, you might as well try. What’s the worst that can happen at this point?”

“You-” Eddie stared at you for a second, trying to decide how to respond. You didn’t blame him, you had just started talking at him hoping that something would stick. “...I guess the worst thing is that I could be a pussy for running away.”

“Yeah, and I already claimed that title and already ran away from an audition. We can’t both blow it, Eddie.” you nudged him. “We can’t be that couple that has to constantly copy each other and do things exactly the same. Don’t be a copy cat.”

You could swear there was a slight blush on his cheeks under the glow of the vending machine. “You’re a weirdo.”

“And you’re a freak. The music world is full of freaks. Go in there and get freaky or something.” 

You felt him relax next to you and he pushed himself off the vending machine to face you. “Thanks.” he said and leaned down and kissed you. 

You squeezed his hand as you returned the kiss, and he let his lips linger a bit longer than necessary before there was a cough from the doorway. 

Eddie pulled back and you both looked over to see Paige staring at the two of you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Are you ready?” she asked, glancing between the two of you before landing on Eddie. 

Right when you were going to let go of his hand, he squeezed yours tighter and started walking towards Paige. “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

Once he was back in the booth, all eyes were on Eddie as he picked up his guitar and put it on. The men that Paige had been talking to were now in the room, huddled around the panel. One of the guys in jeans was setting up a camera in the recording room, making sure everyone was in frame. 

This time, you made your way to the front as well. It was a bit crowded, but you stood next to Paige with your feet firmly planted on the ground. You were not going to be intimidated by Eddie’s perfect ex after she’d caught the two of you kissing in the hallway. 

Paige leaned in and took the mic to talk to the band. “Alright, whenever you’re ready guys.” she said. 

Okay, maybe you could be a little intimidated. But that doesn’t mean you were going to run away or shrink yourself down. 

This time, you could hear the band from inside the recording room. You saw Eddie turn to Gareth and nod, and in return the drummer counted everyone off. 

The first take was better than what they had shown during warm up. They got through the first verse before one of the men in the suits leaned over to whisper something to Paige that you couldn’t make out before she called for Corroded Coffin to pause. 

Eddie looked over through the window, and any fear on his face had been replaced with all business. Paige gave them a note about their pacing and Eddie nodded and they started up from the beginning. 

This went on for about a half hour with the band playing and then being stopped for notes. Each note was being taken to heart, and with each take they were getting better. 

Which only confused you more when they couldn’t go through a full song without being stopped for some note. You could tell that everyone was getting confused and frustrated that each time they started they had to stop for some reason or another. 

“They’re too polished.” One of the men muttered, looking at Paige. “They look like shit, but they’re playing like a high school marching band.” 

You held back any amusement at the idea of Eddie in that stupid green marching band uniform with the feathered cap. 

Paige sighed, and looked at Eddie with furrowed brows, and gave him another note into the mic. Something was... off. These guys were giving Corroded Coffin note after note, but that wasn’t going to unlock what they really needed. 

“Thanks for coming out tonight, we’re Corroded Coffin and we’re here to make you feel like you’re fighting demons in hell!”“

You remembered that first night you had sat and watched them play at the Hideout. That’s what Corroded Coffin was supposed to feel like. They were supposed to be wild and raw, and make you feel like you were fighting in hell. 

Notes from a bunch of suits weren’t going to do that. 

What you were about to do was probably going to overstep so many boundaries, but your impulse control was thrown out the window. 

Taking a step back, you looked at each of the members of the band, trying to decide which one looked the most frustrated. Eddie looked stiff, Zack was fiddling nervously with his guitar, Jeff actually looked the least bothered... and then there was Gareth. Gareth looked like he was trying to burn a hole in his snare drum from the way he was glaring at it. 

Making sure that none of the suits were paying attention to you, you waved your arm at Gareth. He looked up at you confused, probably wondering why the hell you were looking at him right now. You hoped this worked, and you hoped that they’d forgive you for this later. 

“Hey.” you mouthed to the kid. “Fuck you.” 

Gareth blinked and his eyes went wide. He leaned back slightly, staring at you looking offended. 

You gave him your best. ‘Yeah, I said it. What are you gonna do about it?’ face. His grip on the drumsticks tightened as he glared at you. 

You yawned and glanced over at Zack, making eye contact with him. You hated doing this, and knew this was a shot in the dark to give these dumb suits what they wanted. You crossed your arms and looked him up and down, with a condescending smirk, mimicking the way that the popular girls used to look at you. 

You saw him mouth ‘What the hell?’ and this seemed to catch Paige’s attention for a second as she glanced at you while the suits were still muttering to themselves, oblivious to how two of the members of the band were now looking at you like you’d lost your mind. 

Jeff looked over at Gareth and then followed the line of sight to you. He just snorted and shook his head, his fingers absently walking along the strings of his bass. You had a feeling that provoking him wouldn’t do anything, so you looked at Eddie. 

He still looked stiff as he stared at the men watching him. Thankfully it was Jeff who walked over and nudged him and tilted his head towards you. 

There was a serious look in his eyes for a moment before he blinked and his expression softened. You smiled at Eddie. He smiled back. 

Then you pointed at yourself and then at him, earning a confused look as you pretended to dig into your pocket and pulled something out. Once your fist was in view of him, you shot your middle finger up at him. 

His head tilted down, and his eyes widened as you flipped him off. You pretended to dig into your other pocket and presented him with two birds for the price of one. 

“Freak.” you mouthed to him. 

You saw the way his grip tightened on the neck of his guitar and he looked back at his band. They all looked annoyed as they waited for the suits to let them know they could play again. 

Eddie looked at each of them and nodded before turning back to the mic. 

Gareth didn’t even wait for the signal before counting them off and starting their song. They were off, their music blaring through the room at an intensity and rawness that you’d seen at the Hideout, and that night at the talent show so many years ago. 

The suits looked shocked that they had started again so suddenly, but a glance at the men made it clear that they could see exactly what you saw. You took another step back, not wanting to interfere anymore than you already have. 

“Alright, I’m jealous.” Paige said, stepping next to you. 

That... was unexpected. You looked at her, but she was staring at the band with her arms crossed. 

“Sorry?” 

“If all it took was you flipping them off, I would have asked you to do that first.” Paige said. 

“They just needed something to snap them out of their nerves. They play better when they’re not being studied like bugs.” you shrugged, your breath catching slightly as you watched Eddie play. How the fuck did you manage to land a guy as hot as him? 

Paige was watching his as well with a thoughtful expression on her face. The suits had quickly shut up and were now watching Corroded Coffin with the attention they deserved. 

“I had my doubts about the new line up.” Paige admitted. “The first time, it was only Eddie that anyone was interested in.”

Even you? Is what you wanted to ask, but you held your tongue. 

“He works better with them.” she continued. “And with you.”

You glanced at her, but Paige just kept her eyes on the band as they played. 

“I don’t think he ever looked at me like that when we were together.” Paige continued, the corners of her mouth turning up. 

“Like how....?” you managed to asked, thrown for a loop at the turn of this conversation. 

“Like you’re a real person. A friend. A girlfriend.” Paige shrugged. “We had fun, and wanted the same thing but... I don’t think he really saw me. And I don’t think I really saw him.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you kept your mouth shut as Corroded Coffin finished the song with a fire in their eyes. 

There was muttering between the men and the guy who had been in charge of the camera nodded. 

“That was great guys,” one of the men said in to the mic. “Now can you do that again with that AC/DC song-”

Before he could even finish, Gareth was counting them off and they started playing again. This time all the men chuckled at the enthusiasm. 

“You know, we already got the take we wanted.” The recording guy said. 

“I know, but I wanted to hear them play this one. It’s my favorite song.” the suit shrugged. 

“Are you really banking their audition on how well they can cover your favorite song?” Paige asked. 

“Not officially, but it helps.”

With the way the band was playing, you had a feeling this extra credit wouldn’t be a problem. Now that they had found their footing they were now taking off, looking like they were fucking flying as they ran through the song. 

A few requests later from the men, and the boys finally were able to file out of the recording booth, flushed beaming.

The men in the suits shook everyone’s hand with a promise that they will be in touch soon with an offer. 

“And offer...?” Eddie asked. “Wait does that mean-?” He looked between the suit and Paige quickly. 

Paige smiled at him. “I always had every intention of signing you, but we’ll need to talk business to decide on how we can market you all.”

Everyone looked at each other, their eyes wide. It was like it was just now occurring to them that this was really happening. That they had auditioned and were liked. 

“Oh fuck, my mom is gonna freak.” Gareth said, his eyes wide. You had a sneaking suspicion that Gareth may not have told him parents that he was doing this. 

After a few more handshakes and gathering everyone’s contact information, everyone broke down their instruments and started heading to the parking lot. 

“Holy shit.” Jeff was the first one to say anything as they stepped outside of the studio. “Did that really just happen?” 

Eddie, looking a little shell shocked, opened the back of his van and helped put Gareth’s drum set inside. It was silent for a few moments as they all put away their instruments in the back of the van. Eddie turned to look at his friends, who were all staring at their leader for confirmation that what just happened was real. 

You watched as Eddie looked at each of his band mates, his face firm for a moment before breaking out into a wide smile.

“WE DID IT!” He yelled, nearly jumping three feet in the air. The rest of the band followed suit, screaming and cheering and jumping up and down and grabbing onto each other. 

Their joy was contagious, and you watched as they celebrated, your own heart swelling with joy at seeing them succeed. Though you had only known them for a few short months, you couldn’t be more proud of them. 

Firm hands grabbed your shoulders and started shaking you, and you let out a surprised cry, gripping onto Gareth's arms. 

“What the fuck was that about in there?” He asked, laughing his ass off. “We’re in the middle of the most important audition of our lives, and you tell me to fuck off?!”

“Actually, I said fuck you.” you clarified as he shook you again. 

“Yeah, what the hell was with that look you gave me?” Zack asked. 

“You guys weren’t getting anywhere with what those guys were saying- Gareth please I’m gonna puke if you keep shaking me!” you said, and Eddie came to your rescue, pulling the drummer off you. 

His arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in close. “We should be thanking her. She’s our biggest fan and she knew that the best way to get us out of our heads was to piss us off.” 

“I’m just glad it worked. I was really worried that I’d just make you all mad at me instead.” you admitted. 

“We’ll forgive you this time.” Jeff laughed. 

“So now what do we do?” Zack asked. “We just wait for them to call us back?”

“Basically.” Eddie said. “This is gonna be the waiting game for a while. Paige said that they’re still setting up the real studio.”

“The real studio?!” Zack stared at Eddie with his jaw hanging open. 

“I’m sorry, was that a fucking fake studio?” Gareth stared hard at Eddie. “Were we playing for a bunch of fake men in fake suits with fake notes?!”

“No, Gareth the Great, that’s not what happened.” Eddie used his free hand to ruffle the younger kids' curls. “Paige is setting up a studio for Left Turn media around here. She said it won’t be done until next summer.” 

“Dammit, I was hoping that meant we could quit school and focus on the music like you said the first time.” Jeff laughed. 

You looked at Eddie with a raised eyebrow and he shot Jeff a look. “If I have to stick with it, so do all of you.” He said firmly. 

“Dammit.” Gareth muttered. 

A chilled gust of wind cut through you like a knife and you found yourself moving closer to Eddie to steal his warmth and he pulled you closer. 

The drive to drop everyone off back at home in reality was filled with excitement as they all discussed what had just happened. Once they all remembered that you were watching from the other side of the booth, you were bombarded with questions on what the suits had said that they couldn’t hear. You answered everything as best as you could remember, still thinking about how Paige had admitted jealousy towards you of all people. Of course, that’s not something that they would actually care about. 

“They said you all look like shit.” you said from the front seat. “But I think that was a good thing. When you guys were sucking they said you sounded like a high school marching band.” 

This critique was met with yelling and denial but you held your hands up. “Don’t look at me, I’m just a fly on the wall. They shut up pretty fast when you got your shit together though. Also the one in the tan suit liked your cover of Highway to Hell. That scored you points because it was his favorite song.” 

By the time you all entered Hawkins again, they had exhausted every last ounce of information from you. Talks of the audition had been exchanged for dreams of grandeur and what it would be like to be big time rockstars. One by one the band was dropped off, hope in their eyes with the idea that this was the start of something big. 

Once at your apartment, Eddie collapsed on the sofa face first. You smiled and went to the kitchen and brought him a beer. It took a bit of coaxing but he finally sat up and took a long drink from the bottle and smiled at you. 

“Holy shit.” he said. 

“Holy shit.” you echoed. 

“I feel like I’m on top of the world and like I just walked all the way to Mordor.” Eddie shook his head, that smile never fading. 

“Nerd.” you said affectionately, leaning against him. “You did great, Eddie. I’m really proud of you.”

“Yeah?” he looked into your eyes. “I’m... I’m proud of me, too.” 

“You should be, you kicked ass.” You smiled at him. “And they’re gonna come back with a million dollar deal where you get to keep your master copies, get insane royalties, and get you set up with a world tour right away. You’re gonna chart at number one for weeks and you’ll get so popular everyone’s gonna get sick of you within two months.”

Eddie let out a laugh “Everyone’s already sick of me.”

“See? You’re already ahead of schedule. Good for you.” Eddie just laughed and shook his head. “...Not everyone is sick of you.”

Eddie’s hand moved to the back of your neck and rubbed the skin there absently, making goosebumps prickle your skin. “Most of this town is.” He said after a while. 

“Most isn’t all.” you countered. “I’m not sick of you.” 

“A brave woman. You should get a medal for dating the town freak. Most girls run away screaming by now.” He joked. 

“Pfff, you wish you were as scary as your reputation. I’ve been more intimidated by suburban moms at Family Video.”

“Sweetheart, you’re hurting my feelings.” He set his beer down and pulled you in closer. “If word gets out that I’m not the mean satanic spawn everyone thinks I am, then no one will take my music seriously.” 

“I’d make fun of you and point out that you put a lot of D&D references in your songs, but I’ll be nice.”

“I’d hope my girlfriend would be nice to me.” There was a waiver in the keyword in his sentence that you didn’t miss. 

Your heart made a weird thumping movement in your chest and you stared at him. “...Girlfriend?” You managed to choke out. 

Eddie stared at you for a moment, looking as though he had royally screwed up. You felt that arm around you twitch as he decided if he should pull away or not. 

“Yeah I uh...” he stumbled. “Thought maybe since you weren’t seeing anyone else and I wasn’t seeing anyone else-”

“I’d love to.” you said, your whole body felt like fireworks were going off. “I mean, if you’re good with it. I just assumed you’d at least keep me around as a groupie.”

Eddie doubled over laughing, his hair moving wildly as he shook his head. “Groupie implies that I’m going to share you with the band, and there is no way in hell I’m doing that.” 

“Oh good!” you let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Because, between you and me, Gareth is just a tad young for me.” 

“Not into Juniors?” Eddie asked. 

“I generally don’t date high school students at all, but there are exceptions to every rule.” you said, crawling onto his lap and straddling him. His hands moved to rest on your hips and he looked up at you. 

“Listen about that I-” he started, but you cut him off. 

“I’m not gonna judge.” you said. “I had summer school every single year of middle school and sophomore year. It doesn’t change anything.” 

Eddie kept staring at you and took a deep breath. “...I sell drugs.”

Ok, that wasn’t what you were expecting. You stared at him blankly and looked him over. “What do you sell?”

“Are you looking to make a deal, or should I be careful how I answer that?” 

“I’m just looking for honesty.” you said. 

“Weed mostly.” Eddie ran one of his hands through his hair, his rings getting tangled in the curls for a moment. He struggled to break free as he continued. “Bennies... Special K....” 

“I take it that’s not a breakfast cereal.” you said, helping him free his tresses from the heavy rings. 

“No, not exactly.” Despite his wry answer, there was quiet laughter in his voice. 

“I guess it could be worse.” you said. 

“I just want you to know who I am before getting into something you might not want.” Eddie said, his fingers messing with the fabric on your thighs now that they were free from his hair. 

“Eddie,” you cupped his jaw and looked at him. “I like you. You like me. Stop trying to get me to dump you 2 minutes after calling me your girlfriend.” 

“Shit, sorry.” He sighed. “Yeah, I’m being a total dumbass right now, aren’t I?” 

“Only a little.” You dropped your hands onto his shoulders. 

“I know I’m not exactly the biggest catch. I’m a 6th year senior who’s already dropped out once, and a lot of people here think I'm some sort of Devil worshiper.” Eddie leaned back on the couch. “I’m just saying that dating me might not be the easiest.” 

“I’m in if you are.” you said, leaning over him, letting your fingers slide down his chest slowly. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw the doubt in his eyes immediately turn into Boy Brain at your wandering digits. “Are you in?”

His eyes darted down to your hands and then to your eyes and then to your lips. It was a little funny seeing him struggle internally with what you were offering. 

Eddie blinked and snapped out of that daze for a moment before nodding. “I’m in.” 

“Good.” you leaned in and kissed him. “No take backs.”

Eddie leaned up and met your lips in another kiss, deeper than before. His arms moved from your hips to slide around your waist and pulled you closer. You moved your hands back up to wrap around his neck so you could press your body against his. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, losing yourselves in each other as the rest of the word seemed to disappear. When you felt his hand slowly slide up your torso, stopping just below your breast, he pulled back and looked at you. 

“Is this uh... do you mind if...?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at how surprisingly polite he was being. The two of you had made out a few times, but hadn’t exactly taken that next step yet. Not that you hadn’t wanted to, and by the way you shifted and felt that insistent tent in his pants you didn’t think he’d have any objections. 

“Do you want to take this to my room?” you asked. “You can stay here tonight, if you want.” 

Eddie’s expression shifted into a sly smile. “Normally, I’d ask you to buy me dinner first, but you did that already a few times over.”

“Well, then I guess you owe me a few times over.” you smirked. 

“Good thing we have all night.” Eddie stood up as you slipped off of his lap, taking your hand in his. 

“Think you can go all night? Sure you aren’t wiped out from your big audition?” You teased him as you led him to your room. 

“Well, according to you I’m a hotshot rock god who’s about to go on a world tour.” Eddie closed the door and followed you to your bed where you laid down. He pulled his shirt off and crawled on top of you, the pick around his neck sticking to his skin. “If I can jump around on stage for hours and satisfy a stadium of adoring fans I’m sure I can satisfy my girlfriend.” 

“I like the sound of that.” you said, before pulling him into a deep kiss. 

Outside, a layer of snow started to dust the ground, but thee two of you had no trouble keeping warm for the rest of the night. 

a/n: I had a very long think about whether or not to add smut to this story and came to the unfortunate conclusion that it felt weird to add after such a chaste story. HOWEVER, with the series coming to a close within the next 2-3 chapters, I do plan on writing a few side stories. If you all ask REALLY NICE (ie: If at least one person says it lol) I will write smut for Eddie and Reader as a one shot.

We're really coming up on the end here, folks. I really can't believe that you all have stuck around this long. It's been almost a year since I started this story, and I really can't wait to see how this all wraps up! Yes, I know I'm the author, but that means absolutely nothing.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

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[dashing-disaster]

Okay I either just had the best or the worst idea on the topic of Crash That Helicopter and someone else has probably already had the same thought just better but.

What if Tommy regains consciousness and realises he's trapped and his chopper is basically toast, including his comms. But his phone is miraculously okay. So he calls 911.

Meanwhile at dispatch, Maddie is having the Worst Time with morning sickness and runs to the toilet every 10 minutes until Josh decides to force her to go home. But she refuses at first because Kevin and Sarah are both out with the flu and Jessica unexpectedly quit last week to follow her boyfriend of 5 weeks to Australia and now they're short staffed. But Josh tells her it's fine they'll figure it out and pretty much throws her out. He has a small breakdown because they are seriously short staffed but luck just so has it that one of the long term dispatchers walks through the door right then (Debbie perhaps?) with her friend who used to work here but quit years ago and now lives in Phoenix (was it phoenix? I don't quite remember) buy she wanted to see the new dispatch centre and say hi to some people. And in walks no other than Abby Clark.

And Josh is still spiralling a little and she immediately offers to fill in for a few hours it's really no problem she still works in dispatch after all and she knows the systems and she'd love to help. And Josh, stressed but grateful accepts and ushers her towards a free desk. And Abby gets to work right away and she definitely still got it, she does one or two simple calls absolutely flawlessly and then in comes the third call and the voice is familiar.

And that's how Abby takes Tommy's 911 call, and immediately dispatches the best unit she knows because of course.

And of course he also immediately recognises her even though he's kinda dizzy and losing blood. They start talking. Not really about them but light things because Abby needs to keep Tommy awake and he's fading so she tries to keep his attention. So she tells him she's sent the 118, they're his old house right, but lots of new faces, actually she used to date his replacement and then broke his heart by walking away from him. And he laughs kinda pained. Actually, so did he. She pauses for a moment, then demands clarification so Tommy starts talking. And he tells the whole story for the first time since the break up, including the reasons. Some of them he doesn't even mention because it's Abby. Abby who maybe knows him best in the whole world because she's known him at his worst and somehow still loved him.

And Abby listens. And when he's finally done she let's out a long sigh and calls him a dumbass. And then she gets to setting his head straight. She gives him a proper dressing down and gets to the bottom of it. And finally she asks him if he regrets it. Yes. If he loves Buck. If course he does. If he wants him back.... Yeah. So she tells him to work for it, to fight for them. And when she's done giving him a passionate little monologue about love and relationships silence falls.

She calls his name. No answer, only sirens in the distance.

She calls his name again, more frantically and he's still not replying and now she's in tears because they can't both break Buck's heart like that, one of them has to fucking fix it!

Meanwhile the 118 has been racing towards the crash site, Buck antsy but determined and refusing to stay by the rig and let Eddie and Ravi handle it. Tommy needs him.

When they finally arrive it's a complete nightmare, debris and fire everywhere and they're taking far too long to cut Tommy out. Long enough for the TV crews to arrive and start broadcasting the whole thing live.

So Abby, still on the line with an unresponsive Tommy, hoping, praying, is watching Taylor Kelly report live from the crash site where the firefighter have started ripping through the remains of the helicopter. Until Bobby steps in front of the camera and forces them to shut it off because he has no idea what they're going to find there.

Which is also why he eventually makes the decision to pull Buck back after all. Between Eddie, Ravi, Hen and Chim there are enough hands already anyway, they've got him, Buck.

So that's how Taylor Kelly, who's still a bit pissed at Bobby for ruining her news piece, watches Buck disappear between the engine and the ladder truck looking like his world is collapsing and he might be her ex but of course she still cares. It's Buck, how can you not care about him? So she follows him and finds him just as he's breaking down. And she has no idea what's going on, she simply pulls him into a hug and let's him cry it out.

And when he csn breathe again he tells her. That's the love of his life there. His name is Tommy and he dumped him three months ago after he asked him to move in. And they both smile weakly before he continues.

He never told him. He only ever told her, and he didn't lie, he promises but it's never felt like this. And he never told him that he loved him.

Loves him.

And she says that maybe he should do that now then and nods at something behind him.

And there are Chim and Hen and Ravi and Eddie running towards the parked vehicles, pushing a gurney. And there's Bobby yelling for Buck to come get his ass into the ambulance, they have to leave right now.

And Taylor smiles and wipes his tears away and gives him a push. Go. Go and fight and tell him what you told me.

And he does.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

I’m the devil

Summary: So you told Wanda your secret and you realised the intense feelings you had for the woman, hopefully she reciprocated them

Warnings: Minors DNI, feelings, and a little sappiness from both sides

Words: 2,700 (I think)

A/n: not proofread properly, I’m tired 😂

Part 1 here

Flashback

You were bored, plain and simple, bored and horny? You couldn’t tell anymore but what you did know was that being the devil on earth wasn’t nearly as fun as you thought it would be

“Nat what’s on the agenda for today?” You spun your chair to your red headed demon pal who just shrugged “I’m not your assistant”

“But you are the greatest demon assistant in the entire world!” You grinned wide at the woman who just threw her muffin at you “hey that was $7! Don’t throw expensive food”

“You-

“Wait! Shut up for 5 minutes, I found her” you pointed her towards the other side of the road where a young woman was walking to what looked like an apartment complex

“She looks weak Y/n what do you want with her? Surely just take the brother for the debt instead?”

“I tried that but they offered her up so easily, ‘take our daughter please’ don’t take our son he’s the favourite’ pathetic actually, yep just give up your young daughter to the devil, she is very pretty though, which makes this all the better, now come on I don’t have all day”

“Yes boss”

End of flashback

“That was amazing!” Carol lay back on the couch satisfied and happy “you’re way too preppy for a demon sometimes Carol, anyway I’ve go to go, can you carry on with manning the young demons while I do something”

Carol sat up pouting “can’t we cuddle?”

You scoffed “what are we, 10? I’m not cuddling you we have jobs to do, now get out I’m bringing Wanda back through here and you scare her”

“Scare her? She’s a dirty human she doesn’t matter here”

You stopped in your tracks turning back to Carol and giving her a hard glare “Carol I won’t hesitate to send you back to hell and clean up after the demon dogs”

Your threat made Carol sink back into the couch “sorry, I’ll go”

You nodded “good” leaving her alone you straightened yourself checking your phone “only been an hour, she can’t have done much damage”

You walked back through the place and to your art studio unlocking the door finding Wanda still sat where she was but now painting a sunset? It looked like that anyway, it looked beautiful that’s what you definitely knew

“I didn’t try to run away” we’re the first words out of her mouth and you had to laugh “obviously you couldn’t escape Wanda, because of you did the rest of the gang would’ve gotten you first, now come on I’m getting you some dinner”

“What are you?” It was an innocent enough question but not something you wanted to discuss on the first day, or did you? Maybe she’d listen to you, maybe submit to you? Women like bad girls right?

You simply smiled “do you really want to know?”

Wanda wasn’t too sure anymore, why were you being so cryptic “I do…I think”

You sat down in front of Wanda and took a hold of her hands “you’re not stupid, you know there’s supernatural beings on earth don’t you?”

She nodded “it’s a little strange but yeah I do know that”

You continued “okay so there’s the devil, they’re real too” Wanda rolled her eyes “pretty sure the devil can’t leave hell since he was banished there”

“So you think the devil’s a man? That doesn’t seem very feminist of you”

Wanda shrugged “god’s a man and so is the devil, that’s what we learnt at home, but either way I don’t think they’d come to earth”

You chuckled pulling Wanda and her chair closer to you and keeping a tight grip on her hands knowing how people get when they see you properly

“What are yo-what the hell?! Wanda couldn’t move as she stared at your new appearance, horns protruding from your head and your skin a deep red, some small parts of your face were showing bone as of you were disintegrating and Wanda couldn’t help but stare intrigued and a little frightened

“Are you the devil?” Her voice whispered and you nodded “in the flesh, or most of it anyway”

“Why are you on earth?” Wanda whispered still admiring your face and horns “truthfully I got bored of overseeing the tortured souls and demons of hell, and in typical fashion when one comes to New York I set up a loaning business, then bought a night club”

Wanda raised her eyebrow in question “you mean LUX? The place that moved here from LA?”

You laughed “the very same, keeping tabs on me?”

“No I remembered my parents saying they’d like to go in an- oh”

“Oh?”

Wanda removed her hands from yours and stood up “my parents went into your club and now they owe money but instead gave you me”

You changed back to your human self standing up with Wanda making her look at you, the small amount of times you met her parents you thought they were pieces of shit “I’ll be honest Wanda I wanted to take your brother, hell the debt isn’t even that high and they could’ve payed it easily but they offered you up so quickly, tell me why”

Wanda didn’t notice herself crying again, she hated how much she was doing that lately, when you wiped her tears away she pushed herself from you “my brother is the favourite and always will be, it’s just something I have to live with”

You didn’t push her, you’d deal with the family later, humans were horrible creatures sometimes, you wondered why god even made them “okay, now that all that’s over with, how about some dinner? To lighten the mood”

“Can you even eat?” That made her laugh a little and you rolled your eyes happy to see her laughing “yes you weirdo I can eat, now what do you want?”

Wanda thought about it “Chinese?”

“Okay I’ll send Nat out for some”

Wanda sucked in a breath “she scares me”

You laughed “yeah she is scary, but she’s harmless, well to me anyway she won’t dare question me”

“Is she something different too?”

Something different? Yeah definitely how you’d describe Natasha “she’s a demon, my right hand demon basically, she enjoys scaring people, she won’t apologise for pointing a gun at you so probably best to just pretend it never happened”

“Okay”

“Okay, wait here for me, continue your nice painting” your turned her back to her canvas “maybe a few birds to liven the picture up yeah?”

Wanda smiled “yeah and a deer too”

**************************************************

“Nat! Need you to go out for me” you found her doing what she does best, kissing Maria against a wall in public like the exhibitionist she is

“You’re such a cockblock I swear to god” Nat groaned pulling herself away from Maria who just laughed “don’t swear to her dad Nat that’s weird”

“Damn right it is Maria, now Nat go and get my usual from the Chinese place, Wanda needs food and I don’t want to get it myself”

Maria pushed Nat gently and placed her hands on your shoulders “are you falling for the human?”

Your eyes widened “absolutely not! But I’m hungry and obviously she’ll need food too, like I told Nat I’ll break her starting tomorrow, I’m obviously luring her into a false sense of security and comfort, gosh why are you two so annoying about it?!”

Maria eyed you for a few moments before releasing you “how about both Nat and I go and get the food and we join you? Make it a cozy dinner between the devil, her human and two of your favourite demons?”

You sighed looking between her and Nat “fine! But Nat leave your gun it scars Wanda”

You didn’t stay long enough to hear any argument from Nat instead going back to your art room where Wanda was just finishing her picture with a couple of deer surrounded by cute robins “that looks amazing Wanda, when it dries we’ll hang it up somewhere, now come on Nat and Maria are getting the food”

“Were you mad when I kissed you?” Why was she full of questions? Why were humans so inquisitive? “You realised I marked your neck don’t you? When you kissed me I would’ve put you on the table and showed you the time of your life, unfortunately stabbing me really kills the mood unless you have a blood kink but I have a feeling that’s not you”

Wanda’s blush was adorable to you, she definitely wasn’t into that stuff, ah well you’d have to do other things together

“No no I don’t like things like that, so anyway you want me then? This whole assistant thing isn’t real and you just want to sleep with me?”

How could you tell her that while you were watching her before taking her, you’d become obsessed with her, she was just adorable, and you were so glad her parents offered her up, you’d wanted her for weeks

You were silent for a while before walking towards Wanda kissing her as soft as the devil could, gently cupping her face as you pulled away looking into her eyes “I hate how much I’m falling for you in such a short period of time, you’re a 3rd place ribbon when I deserve my first place prize money, but I think I prefer this ribbon”

It was her that kissed you this time closing the small gap, a slow kiss but a nice one nonetheless, pulling away you were still cupping her face and her hands were holding your waist, you both enjoyed this comfortable silence when a cough interrupted you making you both jump

“Interesting, the devil and a human? I think this happened once before didn’t it? She died right?”

You turned around keeping Wanda close behind you not letting the man get a glance at her “Tony to what do I owe this awful pleasure?”

“Your strippers at the club miss you, they don’t have anyone to show their moves on anymore, maybe you should go and help them” he laughed but instead of responding how you really wanted to and hit him across the face with fire you simply smiled “very interesting Tony I will look into it and now if you will please leave me and my friend alone”

He looked slightly taken aback, you normally fought back and hard when he turned up, interesting he’d have to remember that “okay well I’ll see you later at the club Y/n, young human hope you have a nice night”

He left without another word and your whole body relaxed, you felt Wanda move around and stand in front of you “strippers?”

You shook your head “they’re not strippers, we have dancers at the club and I’m in charge of making sure they’re okay and if they need anything, nothing seedy”

Wanda laughed “it doesn’t matter, you’re the devil I know you’re probably not a monogamous being” she kissed your cheek and headed for the door waiting for you

You quickly followed her and when she tried to open the door you slammed it shut leaning your body close into her and whispering into her ear “no, no you’re mine and you won’t be treated like some second rate prostitute, this little emotional talk we had where I told you how I feel won’t happen again if you’re not going to take it seriously, got it?”

Wanda was generally stunned in that moment, your eyes turned to their dark red and she didn’t know what to say “I- I I’m sorry” she whispered looking down avoiding your harsh gaze

“Look at me pretty girl” she did so and you offered her a small smile “my pretty assistant, you need to eat, now come on” you kissed her forehead softly manoeuvring you both and leaving the room

Wanda was still a little nervous but relaxed a little when she felt your hand in her own walking through the house, what a fun time she was having, at least she had a partner? Right? Sure let’s call it that

*************************************************

Nat had brought the food you wanted but decided she wanted to sleep with her girlfriend instead of eating with the two of you

“I hope you like Chinese food, I know humans eat anything but they’ve become vegetarian or that vegan thing, I gotta tell you none of it matters, when they come to hell they’ll get raw meat for the rest of eternity”

Wanda took one of the boxes and examining it “I’m not a vegan or vegetarian so it’s okay” she went to sit down at the table but you redirected her “you sit on the table in front of me, cozy”

“Okay”

You sat down with Wanda sat on the table, eating in silence for a while before Wanda stretched her neck “could I sit somewhere properly? My back and neck are getting sore”

“Come here” she shuffled off the table into your arms in a comfortable hug on your lap “are you sleepy honey?”

“Hmm” she hummed letting herself fall asleep in your hold “I’ll take that as a yes” you chuckled to yourself stroking her back in a soothing manner, staying in this position for a while you began closing your eyes drifting off but the door opened and in quickly came Carol

“Y/n! What are you doing?!”

Your father was testing you, you were absolutely being tested and your patience was wearing so fucking thin

You refused to open your eyes but did respond to the shrieking demon “Carol you don’t have to be here so why are you here?”

You sensed another figure enter the room and groaned knowing full well who it was “oh here she is, the king of hell, still trying to take over my domain?”

The woman chuckled settling in the chair next to yours reaching her hand out to touch Wanda’s shoulder making her jolt awake “hi pretty girl, are you okay?”

Wanda glanced up at you seemingly asking for help which you did pulling yourself and Wanda away from the table “If you don’t mind Valkyrie Wanda and I are going to go and get some rest, send my regards to Thor and Loki”

The woman nodded “and what about Hela?”

“Tell her to go fuck herself”

**********************************************

“Here we are my little human” you gently placed Wanda on the new bed and she looked around suspiciously “this isn’t the room i was in earlier?”

“No this is my room, I told you you’re mine, so you’ll never leave my side and this bed is very comfortable”

Wanda sat herself up on the edge of the bed looking around at the minimal decoration around the room “there isn’t much stuff in here”

You hummed turning to your closet removing your blazer “I’m only here at night so I feel no need for sentimental possessions” you finished removing your blazer and just about finished taking your shirt off when you heard Wanda gasp

“Are you okay over there Wanda? Never seen a woman shirtless before?” Chuckling to yourself you didn’t notice Wanda staring at the side of your ribs “what happened to your ribs?”

You looked down realising just how dark your large bruising was “oh yeah I forgot about that, it’s just something from the other day, it doesn’t hurt”

Before you could do anything else Wanda came towards you touching the bruising and you suddenly felt pain and winced “doesn’t hurt? Why’d you flinch?”

You pulled away sharply from her touch “it never hurts, I’m the devil nothing hurts me, how’d you do that?”

Wanda stepped backwards from you scared you were really mad at her “I-I didn’t do anything! I promise!”

“Okay okay let’s just calm down, it’s fine maybe I’m just tired” your gaze landed on a scared looking Wanda and your heart sank, even though it didn’t really work obviously something in you broke

“Hey I promise it’s okay, I am the devil Wanda only god can really hurt me and he’s not gonna do that since he’ll have to look over hell if he does”

Wanda nodded and started playing with her hands, a nervous habit you noticed her doing once in the day “do you need any sleepwear or do you sleep naked?”

The sudden change in conversation made Wanda a little less nervous “erm I think I’d prefer some sleepwear”

You shrugged “suit yourself, here you go” you threw her a shirt that you wore earlier in the day and Wanda looked it over “you want me to wear your top? Like a conquest trophy?”

“Have I not already conquered you?” You disappeared into your closet for a moment and reappearing in a shirt top and boxers?

“Are you wearing boxers? Aren’t they for men?” Wanda had quickly changed into the top you threw her and got under the covers as to keep her modesty

“Clothes aren’t gender orientated Wanda and I like my boxers” you climbed in bed next to her bringing her close to you

“We have a quiet day tomorrow, maybe I’ll get you a cute collar to match your hair” she turned to face you snuggling into your neck “I’m still really really confused about everything and I’m scared”

You let her mould herself into you and felt her heart rate slow as she let sleep take over her body “I’ll take care of you Wanda, you’ll never have to work or worry about anything ever again I promise”

***************************************

[popcornforone]

Handy

A Dave York Fic

Day 17 of Pedrotober (Arm Sling Prompt)

Masterlist

You wait half of Pedrotober for a Dave Fic & you get 2 in 4 days. Thank you all for the love of the first one by the way. Every time I’ve picked up my phone it’s said someone has liked & reblogged it. It really means the world. Also Dave the only one other than Ezra who we might find in an arm sling.

Synopsis:- Daves most recent injury from a mission isn’t one you can resolve, without going to hospital.

Word count:- 1250

Warnings over & above:- oral sex (female receiving) fingering, rule breaking, injury detail, meds, swearing & as always DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Cos he’s a menace & controlling

Thanks as always for the read peoples. Hope you are loving this & thats @norththelemon & @alyssamariag for the prompts.

You’re sat in the emergency room waiting for ages. He hates it when you force him to do this. He’s usually certain you can resolve any medical issue he has. But when his shoulder wouldn’t pop back into its socket at all, you had to get some trained medical help for him. It was easy to explain that he “fell through the fence”, it would match the scars on that side of the fence that you’d badly sorted out as he sat there groaning about his shoulder. Looked like you’d done your wife duty for your husband patching him up. But the shoulder wouldn’t go. So now Dave is getting the best care available. At least it’s not a bullet that you have to explain. No longer are you squeamish, blood & stiches are now at least a monthly occurrence.

Out he step 5 hours later, your bad stitching redone, his arm in a dark blue sling. A few more bruises have come through but other than that, he’s still your menacingly handsome Dave York.

“Tadah” He states & try’s to stretch but winces, clearly still in some pain. “Good as new”

“Well next time baby if you pop your shoulder out we’re coming straight here.” He raises an eyebrow at you & you quickly cover your tracks. “He plays lots of sports, is very active, usually we can pop dislocations back in.” Dave rolls his eyes, clearly you’ve said too much & a doctor tells you both how many meds he should take for the pain & signs him off work for a week. You can see from the look in Daves eyes that he has no intention in taking them & that he will be back in the office tomorrow, maybe not on a mission but planning the next one. You both know you have stronger medication at home, not that Dave will even take that.

As you unlock the front door about an hour later, Dave pushes you inside quickly & shuts the door behind the two of you, pinning you against the wall. Even with his arm in a sling he’s still so powerful. You’ve never complained about being man handled by him, you like the rough.

“I’m a sports guy huh?” He says with a grin. “I play hard… & rough… I’m active?” You gulp, you know the mood he’s in. Your eyes dilated.

“Yes sir” you whimper, your thighs part slightly. “I only pick the best boys on the team to be mine.”

“Thought you wanted a man?” He kicks your legs apart. “A man who still has needs”

“Well good luck with that, doctor said no physical excursion for 10 days minimum” you chuckle & boop his nose, he knows you are right but he still has wickedness in his eyes.

“There are other ways I can get my desire” he said. His crazy possessive eyes never leaving yours, he takes a deep breath & then his lips meet yours. The tongue went in on the first date & sex happened date three. You were married in a year & cutting out his 5th bullet in 18 months. The man’s always been crazy about you, not one to be held back & the way his tongue takes in every cavity as you panties dampening. You’ve always been crazy about Dave too.

“Fuck Dave” you moan as you catch your breath as he starts leaving little love bits on your neck. You spend more time doing make up on your neck that your face, he just loves that little crook to much. He grabs your arm & pulls you into the lounge with the hand that works. He then sighs as he pushes you away before he drops to his knees.

“I need a reward”

“For being brave”

“No for going to hospital” he growls tugging at your jeans. For a man with only one hand he’s still very good at using just that.

“Doctor said no over doing it Dave…”

“Sit on my face!” It’s a firm command as your jeans reach your ankles. He kisses up both of your legs. Your thighs always tremble. He then shuffles back the perches up in the sofa behind him. “That’s not a request sweetheart” he snarls licking his lips. “I want you to walk towards me in just your panties & then stand on the sofa & let me do my magic” you look excitedly back at Dave. It’s rare he lets you receive oral first. You tug on your red panties as he gets comfortable.

“Yes sir, anything for my big brave broad husband”. You do as he requested naked except for the panties. He rubs his thighs as you walk towards him, seeing his erection get ever bigger. You stand on the sofa & he whimpers.

“I can smell how ready you are, for me baby” he says eyes dilated he’s trying not to droll. “Lower baby” you do as he asks & he slips your red panties to the side. His large nose already nuzzling against your clit. You grip the top of the sofa. “Gonna need your body to do some work baby” he says. You know exactly how you want this to feel so you start to rub your clit against his nose & you moan as your entrance feels every couple of moves his flat tongue against him.

“Fuck Dave”

“Yea baby like that, enjoying it” you moan & gasp. “Take that as a yes.” He’s freed his hand from his sling & you go to protest but as he grabs both your thighs & brings you fully down on his face your whine.

“Oooh fuckerty fuck”

“Yea baby” in his tongue slips. It’s not as far as his cock or even his fingers, but you’re fluttering & tense in all of those sensitive places. You love it when he eats you out.

“Dave oh god Dave yes yes yes more” you then wince. Two fingers slip it side you & his tongue is now souly attending your clit. Your hips rocking, the grip on the back of the sofa turning your knuckles white. The rhythm increasing, your moans getting louder. It’s a good thing you dropped the kids off at your parents before taking Dave to hospital.

“Dave im close fuck I’m gonna cum, oh god oh god yes yes yesss fuckkkkk” you can’t hold on when he adds a final finger. Sloppy noises from his thrusting fill the air & you become a quivering wreck as you cum. Dave sighs. He withdraws his sodden fingers & returns his mouth to your sex. His bad arms your carefully take as that had been the one pleasuring you & you suck his fingers cleans. You know that always makes him happy when you clean up the mess.

“Fuck baby” he says as you slowly lower yourself off him & readjust your underwear & sit on the sofa next to him. “Why do you always taste of heaven down there”

“Cos you are the devil & need a taste of sweetness” you cackle before kissing him.

“Who says we are done tonight?” He replies. “Maybe this Angel needs a taste of hell”

“Well let me at least get you into bed first, then I will suck your cock til you can’t cum anymore”

“Is that a challenge?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Well let’s see if your up for it Dave”

[endereies]

FUCK IT - MATT STURNIOLO - PART 10

Spotify Playlist:

Pairing: Matt x Oc

Contains: Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Requested?: no

Author's notes: Finally!! another fucking update for this fic, i know its been too long. I'm finally hooked on these characters again and i hope this somewhat makes up for it.

Word Count: 4188

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

“Is this something we are meant to do?”

“Fuck it.”

“What exactly did you buy, Matt?” I leant against the passenger door with my back facing the car, adjusting my clothing repeatedly since I had nothing else to do.

“God, you can be so impatient sometimes” He was being vague on purpose, and nothing gave away what he had planned, I just messed around with the hem of my skirt until he was ready to leave.

“I’m not the one being secretive here” I huffed, growing more impatient the more he was leading this conversation on. With the sound of the trunk shutting, I quickly swivelled my hips to try and spy anything to answer my questions. However, he shoved everything into his bags, holding them by his hips.

“I’m not the one being whiny, look I promise you will like it.” He almost snaps at me with a harsher tone than before, so I drop it to avoid making the situation worse.

I walk in front of Matt, leading him through all the bushes and pathways. I knew the path like the back of my hand and yet once again we had gone in the dark to it took longer than necessary. I had never planned to go here either and so I got struck with brambles that also stuck through my clothing. My shoes were scrapped, and my zip-up jacket had been dragged back by branches and leaves and I was growing agitated.

“Are you alright, Ally?” While I know he is being sincere in his questioning, I merely respond with a deep sigh before finally responding.

“All of this shit is overgrown and it's getting on my nerves.” I feel the level of stress rise whenever I had to throw another branch to the side, but I get distracted by the nickname that he reused. That wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

“Here, let me help you” I turn around to see the distance between Matt and I shortening before he walked past me, he holds the next few branches to the side with one arm and insinuating for me to go forward with the other.

He continues this for the rest of the journey up towards the houses behind the Grove, holding back branches and leave to clear a path for me. This was definitely something that Matt had planned to do in his head, wearing heavy duty boots that weren’t impacted when standing down on the thorns. A thick pair of jeans covered his legs followed by a jacket I had seen him wear multiple times during school practice in the mornings.

The closer that we got to the houses, the less amount of foliage that I had to pass through. Matt remained walking ahead of me and I took any chance I got to stare at his backpack trying to find any hint or recognisable shape that I could pinpoint.

“Which house are we going to” we had only explored a few of the houses since the last times I was here and there were still about six of them that we hadn’t looked at once.

“The first one we went into when you brought me here” He smiled at me, holding a strap with a free arm getting more excited about his plans the closer we got to each house.

He follows me to the second house on the street, instantly recognising the poorly painted walls and abandoned tools on the tables.

“You want to see what I brought now?” The backpack is gently placed on the floor, lowered by its straps and Matt looks up to me and I immediately get a bigger smile on my face.

“Ugh finally!” My body stands directly next to his with my eyes not moving from his hands that gently open up the top of the backpack and unzipping the first section.

He pulls out several pots of paint, varying in colours but still remaining consistent to each other. Several blues, browns, pinks and white paint cans spread over the wooden floorboards. After barely processing the colours, Matt pulls out more equipment that I hadn’t used in the house before like a sander and mini saws.

“What the fuck, where did you get all of this!” I grab the saws out of his hands quickly and analyse them one by one before placing them atop the table next to me.

“When you pointed out details when you first brought me here, you kept naming things that remained unfinished or the plans you never got to put in place. So...I thought I could do something about it..” He trails off as he notices me staring up towards him, not realising that my cheeks are turning redder with each small detail he remembered.

“You really did all that?” My smile widens on my face.

“You’ve talked about this place and anytime we go you always bring up a plan that never happened. I needed to change that quickly.” His arm grips the back of his neck and rubs the skin gently.

“How much did this all cost Matt..” I peek at all the tins of paint with a multitude of colours being represented with small labels across the front.

“Doesn’t matter” His voice was blunt as he picked up one of the pink shades displayed in front of us.                                                                       

“The fuck do you mean it doesn’t matter, this amount of paint has got to be expensive.”

“Doesn’t matter. Your smile matters to me more than a bit of money.” Those words just spilled casually from his lips and my body seized slightly and dropped the initial attitude. I felt my stomach twist in an unfamiliar way, and I just slowly shut my mouth.

“Now are you going to be quiet and grab a paintbrush or keep complaining.” I am left a little stunned as he brushes past with me with a grin over his face. I manage to reconnect with my thoughts and quickly grab a small paintbrush sprawled at my feet. I walk over to Matt where he had start to pour the thick liquid into a spare tray that had obviously been used before and dips his own brush into it. I watch as the lightly pigmented mixture drips down the sides of the tin after he scraps it.

I saw a small smile linger across his face as I approached him, now standing by his side. It wasn’t like being in this house was anything new to either of you but it was the way he was remembering each detail of me that stained my thoughts.

I had seen him be observant before, especially with people he cared about. It was one of the very first things that ever stood out to me about him.

When I had mentioned that I only wear silver jewellery, he made sure to get me a matching bracelet and necklace that was silver.

I mentioned how I like to get a coffee on a Friday after the long weeks and he started showing up with me exact order each Friday before I ever had a chance to object. And if the cafe didn't have the ingredients? He made sure he went somewhere else for it.

But this time it felt slightly different knowing that he was involved in what was a huge part of my life, the buildings finally reminding me of something that wasn't a lost friendship.

-

It had been about an hour of painting between us two and I got most of a room covered in it's first coat of paint. The sunlight etched onto the walls which only enhanced the pink pigments.

I took a small moment to stand back and appreciate the wet coats of paint that had been freshly layered onto the walls.

Matt was finishing up a section of the wall next to me as just as I zone out fully, I get dragged back out again when Matt calls out my name.

"Alyia?" His head is titled, and his body is leant towards mine, subconsciously closing the distance between us.

"Hm? What's up?"

"Can I have some more paint from the tin..I've nearly run out." His voice naturally trails off as his focus turns to the areas he still needs to cover.

I fumbled around a little as I scanned the floors for the tins of pink paint.

I walked quickly through each area of the room, my footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. I looked on every available space, trying to spot the bright, recognizable colour.

The small paint tin is sat right by the stairs and with a pull of the handle, I lift it up to carry over to Matt. The thin wooden stick pokes out the top of the lid and once I pour the extra liquid in it stirs in the pigments.

Matt's gaze burns into the back of my head, watching the small stirring movements. When I stand up and lift the stick from the floor, the wood smacks on Matt's arm, leaving a trace of baby pink across his skin.

"Oh God, sorry Matt. Fuck I didn't mean to". Panic sets in my chest while I try to fix my mistake.

I grab the tissue box and grip a few at once before turning to Matt once more.

"Hey..Alyia, you're stressing too much. It's just some paint." Suddenly I feel his hand grip my wrist, lowering it ever so slightly.

"A-are you sure?" I was only met with a meek nod and a sincere smile, which did soothe me a little.

"S'ppose so...as long as I can do this" It wasn't long before his own brush swiped the tip of my nose. My nose now felt wet, like a dog's nose. Surprisingly, I didn't hate it.

"Matt! What!" A grimace spread under the paint while I brought out my phone to assess the damage.

It was only a cute little dot, yet enough to stand out against my skin tone. I was brought out of my focus by giggles that Matt desperately failed to hide. He turned his body away from me, but it was obvious he was laughing at me.

“You can be insufferable, yknow..” I grabbed the box of tissues I was going to use on Matt and wiped my own face instead. It felt cold to touch, that feeling spread to the tissue.

As I wiped my face, I failed to realise he had turned back around to face me. The tissue fell to a nearby stack of rubbish, and I sighed as I missed the empty pot I was aiming for.

I grimaced at Matt once I caught his attention again. Which didn’t seem too hard.

“Really. You managed to miss a spot, kid.” He swapped the brush to his left hand and before I could reach my own hand to his face, he did it for me. His touch was gentle, that wasn’t new. His thumb traced the outline of my nose, barely missing my cheeks. He laid his hand on the skin next to it. Unlike the cold paints, my cheeks heated up faster than I could stop it.

“Hey, at least it matches your cheeks now.” It did until he pointed it out. That’s when they faded darker.

“Get outta here bro. Don’t even.” He didn’t even flinch when I swatted his hand away to the side. Anywhere away from what I just experienced. Even if I didn’t quite know what that was.

“Sweetheart. You know I don’t bite right?” He had to refrain from giggling at the situation, a meaningful laugh I hadn’t heard from him in a while.

It never got any easier to hear that nickname fall ever so sweetly from his lips.

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.”

-

It had only been a few minutes since we both managed to compose ourselves, barely. Yet I kept thinking about it like it was the only thing I knew. It was definitely something that I didn’t want to end. So, I didn’t let it.

By now I had swapped the colour on the brush to a jet black to line the walls with. Why not have fun with it.

Quickly, the dark substance drew out a lengthy line on Matt’s arm, missing the previous pink line he left on. For some reason. He jolted backwards with a laugh almost grossed out by the sudden change in stimulation.

“Such a child.” His words held no fire to them, I wondered if he had wanted to. “Says the one who started it.” I use my free hand to point to my nose, patching with paints.

He attempted to swatch another layer of paint onto my skin but he failed. That resulted in drops of paint flicking onto my clothing. Traces of baby pink were now splattered atop the grey jacket that was slipped off my shoulders.

Regret immediately crossed his face. He knew my parents were designers and that I, more than likely, was covered in their articles. Expensive articles.

“Shit. I-“His voice was meek, not being able to read my face as it was tilted away from him. However, he quickly found out how I felt.

The shade of black I was still using soon mimicked the paint on my clothing. It sprayed onto the shirt he was wearing, a simple and plain tee. But the fact it was white made me chuckle.

He let out a sigh of relief once he realised, I wasn’t mad at him for ruining the fabric. Frankly, I didn’t care about any of it. I never cared for anything my mother mad, it was practically the thing that drove us away. Besides her attitude of course.

We acted like children, now running around the room and flinging the paints around. For a moment we forgot about the price of the tins we were now throwing everywhere. All that mattered was ensuring the other was covered in more pops of colour than them.

“Matt, I swear if that gets in my hair.” As quickly as I spoke, he laid eyes on his new target. My hair that was just relaxing on my shoulders now appeared like a botched dye with pink.

“Oops, missed.”

-

After deciding it was better to subside the paints for another day, we laid on the wooden floor beneath us. Making sure we had a clearing that wasn’t obstructed by loose nails or tools.

“Its late...” It wasn’t a hard observation to make, the sky grew dark and was patterned with faint stars. It was the fact you hadn’t expected to lose so much time to paint fights.

“Guess so. You need to head home?” I looked at him with a heavy expression, he got the message.

“They aren’t home…right.” He almost grimaced at the thought of forgetting, sometimes he wished they were home for me more. But that would cut into the sessions we spend together. He chose to be selfish.

“But you have Nick and Chris at home, you gotta be back before Nick yells at you again.” I recalled the last time we stayed out late without making him aware. Safe to say Matt never heard the end of that.

“It’s a bit late for that, I’ve already seen the missed calls.” He seemed so relaxed about that, if I had missed only one call from my mother, she would’ve gone ballistic.

“Cmon, let’s get you back home, yeah?” His voice coaxed me the same as a small child, gentle, sweet.

The strong places of the stairs were memorised by now which made our exit quicker. Some of the thorns previously stomped down by Matt remained pressed into the ground. When one thorn gripped my skin and scrapped it, he insisted he went in front again. As if my skin and clothing wasn’t damaged enough.

He took a small glance back when he heard me playing a small quiet tune from my phone. I simply put my playlist of shuffle, but it obviously peaked Matt’s interest.

“Turn that shit up, kid.”

“You fuck with Kid Cudi?” He gave me a nod as if it was obvious, but I shrugged it off and ‘turned that shit up’

The music continued into the car ride back, I didn’t want to insist I could walk home. I knew he’d win no matter what I did. My head bopped to the music, zoning out at the window. We were in silence the whole ride back towards my house. I wasn’t uncomfortable, however. The music filled any awkwardness, if there was any. There was only one thing that I seemed nervous about, which was getting paint on the seats of is vehicle. I knew most of it had air dried by now, I just knew that car seats were expensive to replace. I know the exact price because anytime that I drove my parents’ car, I always ‘messed something up’ and had to replace it. I didn’t want to seem as someone who wasn’t capable of anything, so I stopped driving it after that.

Familiar streets seemed to appear, and we both knew it would only be a few minutes before we arrived at my place. The radio was cranked down until it became background sound for us both. I looked at Matt who had one hand placed on the wheel while the other rested on his thigh. His fingers twitched slightly, and I noticed pretty quickly that he was mimicking the drums from the song playing.

I hadn’t realised we had pulled up until Matt spoke for the first time in a while.

“Alyia? We’re back at your house.” He tilted his head closer to mine to make sure that I heard him. I did.

“Oh yeah right. Thanks for dropping me off.” My body slid back towards the door and pushed it open. Once I grabbed all my belongings, I walked around the car to see Matt. The window separating until he pulled it down.

He looked at me expectantly. Why did I never realise how icy his eyes looked.

“Need anything sweetheart?” I swallowed harshly and pushed myself away from the door. “Nope, just..thanks again. For the supplies, paints and the dri-“

He raised his fingers and put them inches away from my lips. “If I hear another thank you come from your mouth, I swear Aliya. I’d do it again no matter what you say.” He smirked at me, and it did ease a few concerns, now pushed to the back of my throat.

“Look, just because you’re used to apologizing and feeling like everything is your fault doesn’t mean that’s true. You don’t have to thank me every minute. You can relax around me. I don’t bite.” He looked down at where the window fell into the door, tracing the tip of the glass before finally making eye contact with me. He seemed almost apologetic for pointing out how my parents made me act. To be honest, I had been sorry about that for longer than he did.

I didn’t reply, I didn’t have to. I kept looking at him with a stupid smile on my face. The same I had while in the grove mere hours ago.

“See you in school?” I finally trusted my voice to speak but it was timid. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” My head nodded and I stood up onto the curb, pacing back to my house.

Shit.

My parent’s car is there. If they see me like this, I’m screwed. That’s it, I’m grounded. I won’t be able to-

I cut my thoughts of when I heard footsteps, they were heavier and dragged ever so slightly on the carpet. My dad.

“Alyia, are you home, I’ve been worried sick.” He quickly trailed off once he saw the state of me, paints covered a lot of my clothing, even the ends of my hair were dishevelled. I hung low, expecting yelling to follow quickly.

“Upgrading your mother’s work?” He laughed. He wasn’t mad at me? “Just go clean up before your mother sees, alright. Make sure you either clean those or throw them. As much as I love the experimentation, I’m not sure that your mother would approve.” With that he walked past me and wondered into the kitchen. I wasn’t willing to risk the chance of my mother seeing the way I destroyed her works. As much as I’m willing to do that all over again.

-

Matt’s pov:

I stayed there for a few minutes, leaning back into the leather. The music was chirping softly. I should’ve left, I watched her get in safely, but I just couldn’t move. I wasn’t waiting for her to run back out and ignore her home life. I wasn’t even watching the door. Traces of paint covered my hands, and I couldn’t help but stare. I tried to run my fingers over it, but the heat of my palm scrapped away a few spots.

By the lights on in the driveway, I knew Nick was awake. I felt bad that I let him stay up again, I just hoped that Chris wasn’t up as well.

“Matthew. Taking your sweet time staying out again. I knew you had the band shit, but we both know it doesn’t last thi- My god, what the fuck happened to you!” He was blunt and straight to the point, he always was but that didn’t make the words he said any easier to hear. I knew he was mad, anyone could figure that out.

He pushed down his glasses and held the bridge of his nose, taking all the clothing in one by one.

“Practicing music doesn’t require baby pink and black paint, what did you do?” He grabbed my shirt and tugged on it. “White. Really?”

I smirked pathetically “Its just some paints, I didn’t care, and I still don’t.”

“You’re lucky that I love you, kid. Just have a shower, its late.” He shook my shoulder as I walked forwards the kitchen for a drink. My eyes met Chris’s through the hallway, he had a weird smile on his face. He smirked at me and raised his eyebrows; I was talking to an actual child.

“I take it you were out with Alyia?” His tone pissed me off, acting like all I did was talk to or about Aliya. I wanted to but that doesn’t mean I did.

“Oh, shut it.” Chris simply shrugged and retreated to his room, humming a song that had been stuck in his head a few days.

During my shower I noticed an obvious change in the water colour, especially when I got rid of the black lines up my arms. No other lights than mine remained on and it made me realise how late I actually stayed out.

Fatigue had hit my system by now and having that hot shower only managed to relax me further. My phone screen lit up the room as I got a message. The quiet vibrations were the only sounds I had heard since the car radio.

My body slumped next to it and stared at it until the screen faded black. I held the phone in hand and since my room was almost pitch black at this point it failed to use face id. After I failed numerous times to fill in my password, I scrolled up to see who had messaged me.

Alyia🎸:

*Sent 1 attachment*

‘Youre lucky my mother didn’t see lmao.’

A photo? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her take photos, let alone send one to me. It didn’t take long for me to click on it.

It wasn’t exactly a selfie and now I understood her sending the photo. The most that I could see of her face was her lips that curled into a neat smile. Locks of hair flowed past her shoulders, and I could see she hadn’t cleaned up just yet, her jacket lay just below her shoulders which allowed the remaining fabric to bunch at her wrists. The selfie was taken from up high just so she could present the paint in one go. Her skirt remains hugging her hips that hadn’t moved from before. I assessed the amount of paint that had been sprayed and was still covering her hands. A light smile covered my face

I stared longer than I should have, I didn’t have the fear of being caught by her real form. I never had the urge to before. I had no idea why I was now.

I don’t respond immediately, and I know that she can see that I’m online, that takes a second to seep in.

Matt🥁:

‘Nick caught me, scolded the fact I was wearing white more than anything.’

Alyia🎸:

‘Frankly, that doesn’t shock me. I better go get this shit out of my hair. Cya kid.’ I just hearted the message and left my phone on the duvet. Light rain began to scatter my window, and I was thankful I wasn’t outside in it. My hand raised itself to my face and I tried to wipe away the weird feeling in my chest. I just hoped sleep would wear it away.

© ENDEREIES 2024

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @missmimii @thecynthh

[sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy]

Stiles is Supernatural Crack

1: The Night at the Nemeton

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

everyone stays AU(NOT everyone lives), forget anything after season 4, post-high school, breif heretosexuality, and— what you really came for— Sterek.

Roscoe was loaded down with werewolves yelling at Stiles's everytime the thing changed directions as if he wasn’t also watching it. Stiles's eyes followed the figure in front of the jeep as it ran through the trees, trying to lose them. The jeep was violently protesting the number of people inside combined with the pushing 50mph on a shitty path through the preserve. His grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white, driving over the uneven ground and over the brush made it shake, and he silently begged Roscoe not to roll when they’d hit a thicker branch or turn too sharp.

Thanks to Jackson refusing to let his car be used, they had to cram the entire pack in Stiles's and Liam's cars. Which meant that Liam, Isaac, Malia, and Ethan were all in one car, leaving Stiles, Scott, Kira, and Jackson in the jeep. Chris Argent followed them, having been completely against taking any of the unruly werewolves in his car.

He found himself once again questioning why the Hell the fucking Chupacabra was in California and, more specifically, Beaken Hills when Lydia's voice came through his phone again.

"Guys, are you still there?"

"Haven't lost service yet," Stiles answered.

"Okay, so here's what we got—" Lydia was cut off as the Chupacabra made a sharp turn and the car filled with yelling of directions even though Stiles had already turned. "Oh my god. Can you guys shut up? This is important," Lydia told them where the yelling quieted. "Thank you. From what we can tell, anything that would kill you, kills it."

"Oh, great! So no friendly fire," Stiles remarked. "That will work great when the Calaveras make their next appearance."

"Stiles, shut up," Jackson huffed.

"He has a point," Scott mutters. "Has anyone told Liam?"

"Well, considering you wanted me to tell you idiots first and I'm still talking to you, no."

Stiles half hides his smile. He could hear the eye roll in Lydia's voice.

Speaking of hearing things, Roscoe made a popping noise and started to slow. “Oh no no no no no,” Stiles said.

He cranked the wheel as best he could into a less wooded area, trying to move out of the way for Liam. The path they were on was barely wide enough for a single vehicle, there was no way Liam could get by if he was still in the path. Too bad for him, Liam followed Stiles and stopped too.

The was a rush of people getting out of Liam’s car, thinking they’d cornered it. At the same time, people piled out of the jeep, knowing they’d lost it.

Scott paused at the jeep door. "Stiles—"

"Ya, ya. I know. Stay in the car, Stiles. You'll get hurt. You only have a bat," Stiles said in his best Scott impression. "This is why I should have a real weapon, so I can be more helpful," Stiles said as himself. "You know why you don't have one," he said in his Scott impression.

"I think you need to keep working on those impressions. I sounded a lot like Derek," Scott joked.

"You're saying the same crap he does," he called as Scott went to talk to the pack. Stiles groaned, laying his head on the wheel.

“Roscoe, buddy, come on,” he sighed, turning the jeep off and pulling the key from the ignition. "We can't afford this again."

Stiles looked up just in time to see a rush of black fur run past the group. He froze, fearing there was a second Chupacabra. The werewolves of the group took off after it.

Stiles got out of the Jeep, grabbing his bat along the way, and stumbling over to Chris Argent. “Uh, so, what was that? I mean, uh, did you get a good look? Was it– was it another one or….”

Chris shook his head as he loaded down with weapons. “I don’t know Stiles,” he said in a groan. “We are both human, you saw about what I did.”

“Ya, but like,” he made awkward gestures to go with the words, “you have, like hunter training and… stuff.”

Chris sighed, closing the trunk of his car. “Listen—”

A howl rang through the forest. Stiles felt it calm his nerves in a way. He laughed at himself, a wolf howl was calming. That showed how messed up his life was. It was familiar and strange all at once. It sounded like a real wolf, not a werewolf. There are no wolves in California. That, combined with the black animal that ran past…

“Derek,” Stiles whispered.

Without another thought, Stiles ran. He ran and ran. He could barely breath. His lungs burned, he stumbled through branches and over exposed roots. He felt himself being cut. He felt the blood dripping down his legs. He didn’t know where they were. He couldn’t hear them. But somehow, he felt a pull to them from deep in the trees. He was being drawn in, drawn towards them.

Chris yelled after Stiles. He chased after him. He had grown to trust him. Stiles always found his way. He knew where to go no matter how lost they were. It didn’t matter what was going on, he found them, he knew, he lived, every single time.

There had been whispers lately. Deaton and Scott talked after everyone else left. Chris saw the whispered conversations between the wolves. Once, he’d heard Liam telling Scott about something Stiles had done. It was becoming increasingly obvious that there was something up with Stiles.

Chris was, at max, six feet behind Stiles when he broke through the tree cover. Chris stepped out and stutter-stepped to a stop. Where was everyone?

Stiles stared at the Nemeton in front of him. His friends were fighting, struggling to get a shot in on the chupacabra without hurting their friends. He wanted to help but felt pulled to the Nemeton. They attacked one at a time as if that had ever worked.

He wanted to touch it.

He needed to touch it.

“Stiles,” Chris called. He heard him but couldn’t pull his eyes away. “Stiles,” Chris said louder.

Stiles seemed to break out of a trance. He turned to look at Chris. He was standing in the clearing, looking around like he was still lost in the trees. “Relax,” Stiles told him.

Stiles voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. It echoed around him and he turned.

“What,” he asked, pulling unwanted attention.

Stiles looked back and saw the Chupacabra’s attention change. It turned away from Isaac, ignoring his attacks. Instead of turning to target another pack member, it went for Chris. His eyes went wide.

“Chris, watch out,” Stiles yelled at him.

He turned toward the chupacabra and drew his gun. For a moment, Stiles thought he’d been able to see through the Nemeton’s veil.

“Where is it,” Chris yelled, looking more frantic.

Stiles didn’t answer. He raised his bat and swung with every once of force he could muster. At the same time, Isaac ran up to attack the chupacabra from behind and Chris took aim at something he couldn’t see.

“Front low,” Scott yelled.

From there, it was all a blur. A mess. They were out of sync and they screwed up. Big time.

Isaac launched himself, trying to attack the creature. At the last moment, the chupacabra made a sharp turn and went for Stiles. Chris took the shot, following Scott’s direction. The bullet hit Isaac and he screamed.

Stiles was knocked to the ground in front of the Nemeton. His head hit a rock and he felt the world start to fade.

Pain brought him to reality as the Chupacabra's claws ripped through him.

Worry filled Chris and the veil lifted, showing the damage he'd done. He ran to Isaac and kneeled by him.

"I’m fine," Isaac hissed, digging his finger into the bullet wound to get the bullet out. “Help Stiles.”

Chris looked up and pointed the gun. He tried to find a shot that wouldn’t risk Stiles. He shook his head. “I can’t. I’ll hit him too,” he said, fear filling him as blood started to pool around Stiles's head. “I don’t have a shot!”

Everything sounded like Stiles was under water. He was dying, he could feel it. No. No, not like this. Not without a fight.

A sense of fear and knowing washed over the clearing. They all felt it. They knew it would be too late to help. No matter what they did, it would be too late. It wouldn’t be enough. They couldn’t save their friend.

Stiles reached for his bat. He gasped in pain at the stretch or his damaged muscles. His bat had landed on the Nemeton. He couldn’t reach it. He hurt. It hurt so bad, like his arm would rip off if he stretched anymore.

They tried. Desperately, the wolves clawed at the chupacabra. They wanted to help but nothing they did would stop it.

His fingers brushed the Nemeton and he lost his breath. It was like being lit on fire. It was white hot as it burned through his body. He screamed, tears pouring down his face.

His tears washed away the blood, leaving the only clean spots on his body.

He swung his arm in a last attempt for life. All he could feel was pain and pressure. He felt the pressure leave all at once.

Everyone was thrown away from Stiles. Each of the wolves were knocked back, their hands burnt where they’d been touching the chupacabra. Even so, they healed quickly. They healed but Stiles couldn’t.

His arm fell onto his stomach and he wanted to vomit. He could feel the shreds that were his skin. He could feel the exposed muscle and organs. Warm blood coated his arm as his fingers grew cold. He was dying…

“Stiles! Stiles,” Scott yelled, running to his best friend. He fell to his knees at Stiles's side.

The chupacabra was thrown from Stiles's body by an invisible force. It’s skin started to charr, burning without a flame. It gave a shrill screech, curling into itself when it hit the ground. The sound grew weaker, going silent as only when it had died.

Stiles knew he was dying. He’d lost so much blood. He was going to die. He was bleeding out. Stiles was going to die in the middle of the woods.

He’d never see his dad again.

All at once, Scott felt useless. He felt powerless. He didn’t know what to do. Even touching him would hurt Stiles. His stomach church as a familiar smell his his nose. Stiles smelled like death. If he took away the pain, he was sure Stiles would die.

His dad would never see him again. Just like Claudia.

“Hey, hey. Look at me buddy,” Scott pleaded. Scott could hear Stiles's breathing turning from heavy and labored to rough hick-ups. His heart was slowing, becoming weaker and harder to hear. “Stiles,” he said through tears of his own.

Stiles looked up. He couldn’t see the sky. The trees blocked the moon light. He didn’t remember it being this dark a second ago…

“Stiles please. I need you. I can’t lose you,” Scott whispered. Scott couldn’t take his pain. It was the last thing keeping Stiles with them. If he didn’t feel pain, he’d slip away.

The tears slowly stopped rolling down Stiles's face, leaving clear, clean lines on his face. His pale skin seemed to grow almost white and waxy. Stiles eyes were barely open, like he was falling asleep, but they were glassy.

His arm lay next to the Nemeton, his fingers seeming to twitch. His heartbeat was slow. It was so slow Scott almost thought it was gone.

Chris walked closer to Scott and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Scott,” he whispered.

Stiles saw Scott and Chris looking down at him. It reminded him of Allison. Karma. His last view would be the same as her’s.

Derek shifted back to his human form, panic and terror flooding his brain. He ran over to Stiles, yelling at Scott, “help him, damn it! He’ll die in pain if you don’t!”

“If I do that, he’ll die,” Scott whispered, his voice too weak to yell as tears fell down his face. “He’s my best friend, Derek… I can’t lose him. Not him too.”

Stiles's body felt stiff. He couldn’t move. Like being stuck in tar. Even his fingers could barely twitch. He couldn’t do anything.

He was really, truly helpless.

“Then save him,” Derek told him, standing on the opposite side of Stiles as Scott. “You can save him if you really care so much! I saved Cora! If you’re so worried about your best friend, you could save him. ” He watched Scott’s eyes, watched him consider it. He was taking too long. “Your being selfish,” Derek growled. “If you can’t give up your power to save him, them give him the bite or take away the pain.”

Today was the day Stiles died.

What was today? Wednesday? Thursday?

He could take the pain. He could save Stiles. “He didn’t want that,” Scott said clearly, grabbing Stiles's bloody hand. He was being selfish.

It was June.

His mom died in June too…

Derek watched Scott and watched the pain slowly leaching from Stiles's body.

Stiles exhaled as the pain went away. It was replaced by cold. He felt so cold.

Derek shifted back into his wolf form and laid down beside Stiles. He didn’t want him to feel alone. He didn’t want Stiles's last moments to be alone. Derek couldn’t do much, he knew Stiles didn’t like him, but he could be there. He needed to be there.

Watching Stiles die… it made something deep in his chest ache. Why did this hurt so bad? Why did losing Stiles hurt so much? They couldn’t stand each other, right? He tried to keep his pain to himself, a small whimper managing to escape. He left himself nose at Stiles's arm– to comfort Stiles, he assure himself.

Derek’s nose bumped Stiles's and it hit the Nemeton.

Stiles sat up and screamed in pain.

Scott and Derek both moved away.

They saw Stiles's eyes roll into the back of his head and he fell limp. Scott caught him before he could hit the ground again.

Scott looked Stiles over and his jaw dropped. Stiles's life threatening wounds were heal. Nasty, fresh scars were left in their place.

“What the Hell,” Chris muttered, looking at him too. “Did you…”

“No,” Scott said quickly, almost defensively, “I wanted to but…”

“We better get him to the hospital,” he muttered.

Isaac walked over, his bullet wound having already been treated, “to the hospital or to Deaton?”

“Maybe both,” Scott said it with a sigh.

[simplydannie]

Previous: Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 || Part 11 || Part 12 || Part 13

Links: Wattpad || A03

The twins take their Troll companies on a journey to find their brother, John Dory, who was taken their father, Vaughn.

They stumble upon their old home in hopes of finding their father… only to find it empty.

The trip shouldn’t have felt long, but it did. Apollo now stood inside the elevator that led him up, up, and up, in the tallest building of Mount Rageous. The elevator was nothing but clear glass, the lights of the city shining through, the clouds glowing and radiating… 

“Los bastardos lo tienen todo” (The bastards have everything). He muttered, “Se llevan todo y nos dejan sin nada... tal vez Vaughn tenga razón…” (They take everything and leave us with nothing… Maybe Vaughn was right). 

Next to him stood two guards…Bergen guards…Ruff and Tuff. They were massive even for a Bergen. They were so serious too, the Strobe had to pick fun.

“...So…you guys come here often?” He smirked between both of them. The Bergens didn’t answer, they only kept a serious face. “You guys are probably really fun to party with aren't you. Need a little drink to let loose? Oh come on, smile for me, smile, smile…pleeeassseeee.” 

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Tuff growled. 

“Ah! He speaks!” Apollo chuckled. 

“Just ignore him. We deliver him to the Mistress and that’s it.” Ruff pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously annoyed with the Strobe. Apollo giggled… He didn’t care, he had a thing for getting under peoples skin…

DING! 

The elevator stopped. The doors opened. There in front of them stood a tall Goyle Rageon, except his horns seemed filed down, a sharp tooth grin, dark blue dreadlock hair hanging loose.

“...Care to put a shirt on?” Apollo muttered.

“What? Getting hot and bothered?” Shank smirked, “Get out, brutes. I’ll take it from here.” He shooed the Bergens away. They were more than happy to hand off the young Strobe to someone else. Shank led Apollo down the halls of the jeweled, marble hallways. 

“So what’s the deal? Sleep with Mistress and live a luxurious life.” Apollo scowled. 

Shank chuckled, “The luxurious part is a plus.” They came to a giant double door where Shank gestured for him to enter, “...Good luck” He smirked. 

Taking a deep breath, Apollo opened the doors which led him into a giant office. At the center was a jade desk and chair…on that chair…sat Mistress. He approached, standing in front of her, “...Mom.” 

She scowled, “We’re not on those terms.” 

“Of course not. You only gave birth to me.” He muttered. 

Mistress slammed her fist on the desk, her snake hair hissing, “Don’t you dare sass me. You shall call me what everyone else calls me. Mistress. I will dare not drop below standards to be called your mother.” 

Apollo swallowed the lump in his throat. Of course, what else should he have expected? But what other choice did he have? Do this, and perhaps she’d earn her respect, her affection…He had failed to earn anything from his father… 

“Did you give her the Troll?” She asked.

“I did.”

“Did she take it?” 

“She did.” 

Mistress smirked, “Good. Then it will be only a matter of time. You, my dear boy, will wait till she reaches out again. When she does, you are to follow her, be with her, be her bodyguard…assistant. “

“Assistant?” Apollo protested. 

“Are you willing to do anything or not?” Mistress scowled. 

Apollo sighed, refraining from any snarky remarks, “...Fine.” 

“Good. You are to pretend to be her friend, pretend you care for her… We have to make her feel comfortable once again after all.”

“And why…why do you want her? Why not look for anyone else?” He asked. “Is it just because she’s Vaughn’s daughter…are you….are you still in love with him?” 

The snakes in her hair hissed and coiled, “...It should have been me ruling alongside him. Do you know how different it would have been? The under city AND Mount Rageous eating out of the palm of our hands…my hand! But no…he chose that disgusting Succubi girl. She began making him a good man…disgusting… But that’s just the beginning of my plan… There’s much more to it than meets the eye. And the rest I will not tell you.” She smirked at Apollo. 

Everyone remained inside the factory. Planning on how they would be able to get to the Troll Farm. Velvet sat outside… in her hands, the small diamond bottle Apollo had given her. Inside, a terrified little Troll staring up at her. 

“Stop looking at me like that!” She shook the diamond bottle. The small Troll only yelped and hugged herself in a tight ball. 

“Please don’t eat me!” She begged. 

“...Eat you? EW! Gross.” Velvet scowled, “I don’t eat Troll. Only absorb their essence of course.” She smirked, clasping the bottle firmly in her hand, her eyes beginning to glow. 

Tears began to spill down the little Troll's eyes, “P-please…Please….don’t…I don’t wanna die…I don’t wanna die.” She cried. Velvet only stared down at her… Her eyes blinking the pink hue away. She began feeling something towards the small little Troll…. Sympathy?  Velvet moved the glass bottle to be at level. For some reason, the little Troll reminded her of Veneer. The soft blue eyes, the way she spoke, the way she carried herself. Velvet sighed. Unscrewing the bottle, she turned it over….and released the Troll.

The small being only stared up at her wide eyed. “Get out.” Velvet demanded, “Get out. And not a word…. Or I'll change my mind.” 

“Th-thank you.” The small Troll smiled as she took off running, disappearing into the unknown of the under-city. Velvet sighed, tossing the diamond bottle long and far. 

“Hey.” 

She looked up just as Veneer walked her way, taking a seat next to her, “We managed to snub some Dino Burgers. I know you loved them. I brought two for you!” He smiled.

“...Whatever..” She sighed, avoiding eye contact. 

“...Vels…come on…I’m trying…I just, I want us to get back to how we were? When we were kids, before Mount Rageous, even during Mount Rageous.” 

“Hm, well you should have thought about that before ratting us out.” She scowled. 

“Really? You’re still on that…you know I did for a reason. Things were getting too far Vels. You didn’t see how I saw you…You were changing. I couldn’t lose you, too.” 

“Yeah…well-...” She fell silent…. She didn't know what to say, Velvet had really no snarky remark. She only sighed and hugged her knees. Damn him for always being so compassionate… The twins sat in silence for a moment, each afraid to speak first. 

“So what did the munchkins decide on doing?” Velvet finally asked. 

“Oh! You mean the Trolls?” 

“Who the hell do you think I’m talking about, Veneer?”

He blushed, “Well, I’m going to take them. I’m going to take them to our home and see if they can find their brother there somewhere.” 

“You’re kidding? You’re going back to dad?” Her eyes widened, “You’re going back to dad and taking Trolls with you? You know that’s crazy right?” 

“It’s our dad Vels. He’s not going to hurt us. He’s looking for us. I’m gonna help them get in, find their brother, and release all the Trolls in there.” 

“And you think that’s not going to upset dad? That’s his business Veneer.” 

He pondered for a bit, “Maybe. But not unless we show him he doesn’t need that. That he has us again, that we can be a family like we were when mom was around.” 

“You sound so sure of that, Veneer.”

“Cause I am. And you're coming with us.”

“Like hell I am!” She scoffed standing up. 

“Yes you are! Please. Vels, I gave up having a chance in being a family with dad to follow you when you took the gig to go up to Mount Rageous… You can at least do this for me.” 

Velvet looked to her brother. Opening her mouth, she was about to say something when a familiar set of tiny beings headed their way, “ Alright. Ready to head out to this manor of yours?” Branch asked up at them. 

Veneer looked at his sister. She grunted, throwing back her head, “...Uuuugggghhhh. Fine. I’m only doing this because Veneer is horrible with directions and will get you all hopelessly lost.” Her brother tried desperately to withhold a squeal, it took all his strength to keep from hugging her. 

“Well, alright. We got the moody girl on our team again.” Branch smiled. The small Trolls draped their tiny backpacks over them before settling in on each of the twins' shoulders, “Let’s go save my brother.” 

This time around, the twins traded their bright red hoodies for something less obvious. Each sported a dark gray hoodie, Veneer of course never taking off his purple beanie. Instead of his hair sticking straight up, he had slicked over to the side, nearly covering one eye. He cut it only a little shorter. When Velvet looked at him at first, she giggled. 

“What?” Veneer had asked, “Does it look bad? Oh my gosh it looks bad doesn't it?!” He began to freak. 

“Calm down, bro. Doesn’t look bad. Just got to get used to emo Vennie….You know… with your hair like that, you look like dad when he was younger.” 

And so he kept it. He kept his new little look. Velvet still sported her usual ponytail which she easily tucked into the hood of her hoodie. She wore black mini skirt where her brother still sported his black skinny jeans. 

It was perfect. 

They were able to maneuver through the crowds of the under-city much easier. The Trolls stayed hidden within the crook of their hoodies, only occasionally peaking out. Eventually, they made it past Mid-City and entered through the gates of the Succubi District. As they got deeper into the town, Branch began noticing more and more Rageons that looked like the twins…the same pale, porcelain skin. 

“So this is what you guys are?” He asked within Veneer's hoodie. 

“MmHm!” The Rageon happily explained, “We’re known for our pale skin. It kind of scared people off. Even when we were in Mount Rageous, we were the only ones with this kind of skin. We’re more flexible than others too.” 

“So they’re just scared because of your pale skin? That doesn’t seem really fair…”

“...Well, no…there’s more to that actually… We’re…we’re known to be able to suck the life force out of living things…One of the only ones to do that actually. That’s what scares them.”

Branch fell silent for a moment, “So…that whole diamond bottle thing…it wasn’t the diamond that allowed you to do that?” 

“No.” Veneer hated reliving those moments, he hated talking about it, but Branch deserved the truth, “The diamond was an unbreakable prison. But, it also served to slowly drain the life force out of someone. Not all at once…” 

“No better way to preserve your resources.” 

“.... It was something my dad discovered.” Veneer muttered as they continued through the Succubi District. The small Trolls gazed around… the Succubi Rageons looked nothing at all as the other Rageons fo the under-city… they didn’t look intimidating or scary…they looked harmless. But that was the deceiving part of it wasn’t? Harmless until they grew a liking to you…to your aura… your essence…then took it for themselves… they were truly dangerous. 

“This is what makes it the most dangerous district for anyone,” Tye muttered, “One time I saw a gang of Goyles that thought they could take advantage of a lone Succubi girl…man were they wrong…literally sucked the life out of all of them. She walked away unhurt and humming..” He glanced distrustly at both Velvet and Veneer. Branch didn’t mutter a word…

They continued deeper and deeper into the District… either the Succubi were loyal to Vaughn… or word hadn’t reached them about their identities. The twins continued on no problem. They walked and walked deep until they came across a thicket and twigs, vines, and branches. 

“...Dead end?” Floyd asked as he looked up at Velvet. 

“That’s what it’s supposed to make people think.” She glanced around to make sure they weren't followed, then disappeared into the thicket, Veneer following close behind. They came across a swirling path that led deep.

“This is one of, like, MANY walking entrances. Vehicles had a way in and out around the mountain side.” Veneer happily chimed. 

“Was everyone after your dad?” Branch asked.

“The Montegue name goes way before my dads time… but he established their empire the way it is now when he came in… So he’s the most hated because of it. He was also the first to break the oldest Montegue rule.”

Tye arched an eyebrow, “What was that?” 

“Never fall in love…never continue your bloodline. They only passed down the name through adoption. My dad kinda ended that when he had us…and fell in love with mom.” 

“So..even amongst his ‘family’, your dad was hated.” 

Veneer nodded, “Normally, The Montegues would choose who the successor was. But since dad had us… well..”

“Everything automatically went to you guys.” Floyd finished.

 Velvet chimed in, “One of the guards told us they tried killing him and mom when they first got married. Dad made sure they never saw the light of day again” She smirked, seemingly proud of her father at that moment. This caused a small shiver to go down Floyds spine.

“Word is there are still Montegues out there that want dad out.” Veneer murmured. 

“....Think they’re responsible for your moms death.” Floyd asked.

Veneer only sighed, “...Possibly.” They continued through the thicket, until they came to a clearing, ahead of them…they spotted a very familiar building, “That’s our home!” Veneer clapped, jumping up and down.

“That castle?” Branch gaped. The Trolls now have the confidence to walk freely on the ground. 

“It's a manor, not a castle.” Velvet rolled her eyes.

“Same thing! That thing is bigger than Bergen Castle.” Branch murmured. Veneer pushed past them as he began trotting to the manor.

“Hurry!! Come on! I wanna show you guys my old room!!” 

“Ven! Wait up!” 

They all followed the male Rageon as he picked up his pace the closer and closer the manor got. Dad, dad you’re right there! His mind raced. Finally he was home…Finally they could try to be a family again…do mom proud.  

“Dad! Dad!” Veneer cried happily as they entered the front lot of the manor, basically trotting up the giant front steps. “Dad!! Dad, we're home!!” He bursted through the front doors, “Dad!!! Dad it’s us!!.......Dad?” His smile fading as his voice echoed through the manor… the empty manor. 

Velvet and the Trolls appeared behind him only a few seconds later. Her eyes widened to find everything in the manor gone… it was completely empty, “..What…Why…” She stuttered. The Trolls looked at each other then up at the twins. 

“Dad? Dad?!” Veneer continued to call out as he trotted up the grand staircase leading upstairs. Floyd followed him up while Branch and Tye stayed with Velvet. 

As if in a trance, she walked the empty rooms and halls of the first floor. She peeked behind doors in hopes of finding any sign of life…anything…but it was all gone…all empty. Branch and Tye only followed her quietly, trying to imagine what the manor was like when there was life….when there was a family living there….a once happy family. Velvet opened the door to a room that held a fireplace. She took a deep breath as she entered…

A memory coming to her mind… 

As she stood at the center of the room, the image of her and her father dancing by the lit fireplace came to life… 

The echoes of giggles as Vaughn twirled her, then picked her up in his arms…

“Did you dance like this with mommy?” 

“I still dance like this with mommy.” He smiled, placing a kiss on her head. “And this is how I want your future husband to dance with you too…You can't get married until you're seventy though.”

“Daddy! That’s old!” She giggled, leaning her head against his shoulder as he continued to dance with her in his arms to the melody coming from the radio…

♬ Sweet dreams are made of these…who am I to disagree…♬

“..I traveled the world and seven seas….Everybody's looking for something…” Vaughn deep, gentle voice continued to carry on the melody as he held his daughter tight and close, “Know that I would travel the seven seas for you..” He whispered…

Velvet lost it…

She hugged herself and slid to the ground…tears escaping her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, “...Dammit dad…” She muttered as she desperately wiped the tears away from her eyes, “Damn you…damn you…damn you.” Her silent cries turned to violent sobs as she hugged her knees…she missed him…she truly missed her dad… and she hated him for making her feel that way. 

Branch and Tye only stared in silence as they gazed upon the broken girl in front of them… They weren’t used to this… They weren’t used to her being so…vulnerable. Tye looked at Branch, “What do we do?”

“...Let her cry…Let her feel…She needs it.” Branch neared her and sat next to her, his tiny little body against her to offer any warmth he could…

“Dad! Dad!” Veneer continued to call out upstairs. He went into his and Velvet's old room…empty…everything gone. He ran into what was their parents old bedroom…again…empty. He began to grow desperate, Floyd could see it in his eyes as he continued to follow the young Rageon throughout the house. Veneer broke down the door of his dad’s old study out of desperation and hoped he would find something… but he didn’t… just his old desk stood there, dust collected on top of it. 

He entered the room silently and slowly, walking over to the desk. He placed a gentle hand on it, a memory coming to his mind…

A memory when the room was alive… 

“Daddy! Daddy!” A young Veneer bursted through the doors. Vaughn sat at his desk looking through some paperwork, a smile coming to his face when he saw his son running… Being born fickle, it took Veneer awhile to properly walk…doctors said he would never walk…and yet…here he was… running.

“What’s that?” Vaughn arched an eyebrow at something Veneer held in his tiny hands, “You’re not causing your mother trouble are you?”

“Daddy look! Mommy said it used to be yours.” Veneer lost balance falling onto his fathers lap as he held up a purple beanie. Vaughn smiled. 

“It was. When I was younger. I had it when I met your mother too.” Taking the beanie he placed it on Veneer’s head. 

“It's too big!” The young Rageon giggled. 

“Maybe. But you’ll grow into it… I know you will.” 

…Veneer sat down leaning against the desk, his legs pulled close to his chest. He took off the purple beanie and held it in his hands…He knew now why his father had said that…. It was his hope, his prayer that Veneer would grow, that he would live longer than what doctors had anticipated…and he did… 

The tears began to spill… 

When could he have that life back? Where could their dad have gone? He buried his face into his beanie as his shoulders shook with his violent sobs. 

“...oh Ven..” Floyd whispered as he neared him. He sat himself by the Rageons feet, placing a hand on his boots as Veneer just continued to cry. 

…..Where….Where did their father disappear too? 

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 11 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10, pt.11

AN: Another one <3 She is very game orientated and action heavy. Bare with me babes! For the plot!

Synopsis: Closely follows the “Kill or Capture” mission from mw2 (reboot). Rights to the game developers <3 Word count: 2.5k Warnings: Canon divergence, canon-typical violence, military shit, guns, explosions etc.  Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign: Rags)

Not proof-read (sorry!)

✧˚ · .

Missions came and went and you slowly but surely found yourself shaking the nerves you had returning to active duty. Trainings and drills were back full force and each night you returned to your room with aching limbs. Ghost and you had returned to the unspoken routine of drinking tea in the small hours of the morning. The Lieutenant had come to relax considerably around you and was less stoic; his replies during conversation longer and more detailed than they had ever been. 

“There’s a briefing tomorrow.” He’d begun starting conversation more too, rather than waiting for you to break the silence. 

“Oh?” You reply, not looking up; eyes skimming the pages of the book in your lap. “What about?”

When he doesn’t respond you frown, closing the book and meeting his gaze. His look is undecipherable, cobalt eyes stern. “Him.”

You narrow your eyes, confused. “Him?”

“Makarov.” The name is spat from his mouth like he’d swallowed something bitter. 

“A new lead?” The team hadn’t had one in months. 

Ghost nods, playing with the string of his teabag. “Price think’s it’s solid – Laswell too.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, shutting the book and sitting up from where you’d been laying on the couch. You eye the Lieutenant cautiously, “I’ll know tomorrow won’t I?”

The man sighs, dropping his gaze to the table where he runs his finger over a dent. “Jus’ wanted to give you a warnin’.”

You can’t help but smile. This man. Simultaneously one of the most intimidating and softest you’d ever met. “Oh well,” you clear your throat, standing and moving to drop your now-empty mug into the sink, “thank you for letting me know.”

✧˚ · .

The briefing room has been rearranged so Laswell can video call in, you slide into an empty chair next to Soap who slings his arm across the back of it, allowing you to see past his broad chest. 

“Do ya ken what this is about?” He whispers to you as Price closes the door, you nudge him with your elbow; shushing him as the Captain starts to speak.

“Mornin’, Kate,” the man speaks to the woman on the screen.

“Morning John,” she nods back, acknowledging those behind him, “team.”

A few people murmur a hello, Ghost, who stands against the wall with his arms crossed, nods with a grunt. 

“Alright, assuming no one has breached our confidence, you all don’t know what this is about.”

You flick a glance at Ghost, he doesn’t even blink; watching Laswell with a blank expression. 

“We received intel just over 24 hours ago regarding the whereabouts of Vladimir Makarov – commander of the Russian PMC Konni Group and associate of the ultranationalist political party.” She types something into her laptop and a grainy image appears onscreen. You grit your teeth, ignoring the way Gaz and Soap look your way. 

“Though we belief the intel to be solid, it is too risky to make a move till we can figure out his intentions.” 

You swallow, almost relieved you won’t have to face the man behind your still-healing scars just yet. 

Price steps forward, “We thought you all had the right to an update considering recent events.” His eyes dart to yours before turning to the laptop in front of him.

“Instead we have orders from the General – a new HVT.” He hits a key and Laswell is moved to the side, images which can only be of the aftermath of a missile strike take over the screen. “Following our strikes against the Russian-backed Iranian forces and the recent assassination of Iranian General Ghorbrani a new player has emerged – Hassan Zyani.”

This portrait is less pixelated than the last, strong brows and a salt-and-pepper beard soften his sharp features. He doesn’t look like a murderer – though you suppose the dangerous ones never do. 

“We believe he has begun funding terrorist activity in an attempt to seek revenge on the United States for the strike which killed Ghorbrani, Shepherd wants as us to put a stop to it before it starts.”

✧˚ · .

You aren’t surprised Laswell doesn’t have much intel on Makarov. He’d only been known to Price and 141 for a short while before your capture. His motives were unclear – a grudge against Price was not a strong enough factor to kidnap and torture an SAS operative on an multinational special operations unit. It was as though he had used your capture to test something – though you weren’t sure what. 

“Wheels up in ten.” A voice interrupts your train of thought and you look up to see Ghost, decked out in his tactical gear. It’s odd seeing him in the kitchen, a place you’d only really ever seen him enter in more casual clothing.

“Thanks LT.” You reply, stuffing a handful of camomile teabags into your empty pocket. Though you drink them when you can on mission, it’d become more of a good luck charm for you to always have tea with you.

Though he’s wearing his hard-shell mask, you can tell the Lieutenant is raising an eyebrow at you. You brush past him, fiddling with the zipper on your pocket. “You coming?”

You swear you hear him breathe out a laugh as he follows you out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the tarmac. 

“I’m starting to think I need to carry out uniform inspections.” Ghost says, reaching over you to hold the door back. Wind tousles your hair as you step outside – the blades of the helicopter already spinning. 

You cast a look at him over your shoulder in disbelief only to find his eyes creased teasingly. You scoff, hitting him softly with your glove – not yet on your hand. “Cigarettes aren’t standard issue either, LT. Cigars too – Captain wouldn’t be too happy.”

If he replies you don’t hear him, the roar of the chopper drowning everything out. Soap’s waiting by the door and you give him a pat on the shoulder as you clamber into the heli. 

You’re being sent to Al Mazrah – the last known location of Hassan. It’s a short chopper ride to an airfield nearby and then a bumpy few hours in the metal belly of a military plane.

 ✧˚ · .

“All shooters have execute authority, but we want Hassan alive for interrogation.” Laswell’s voice echoes in your head, “And be advised, Major Hassan is A.Q.’s lifeline – if he is there, they will die for him.”

You, Ghost and Soap are running point on the mission with a group of MARSOC Marines ordered by Laswell to assist. A rough landing and a rushed briefing later and you’re in a chopper heading for the field. 

“Bravo team offloads here.” Ghost calls over the roar of the helicopter as it lowers to the ground, the red light casting an ominous glow as he marches through the hull of the chopper. “Alpha team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill.”

You’re on Alpha team, Ghost gives you a single nod and Soap bumps your fist as they exit the heli. 

“Keep up, Soap.” The Lieutenant growls and Soap gives you a grin before following suit. 

The ramp closes behind and your friends are out of sight. The helicopter shakes and flares light up the sky. You make your way to the cockpit, the pilot is yelling into the comms.

“Incoming – Flares! Flares!”

The whole chopper jolts to the side and you just manage to hear someone over the radio scream “second missle!” when the world explodes around you. Fire and metal and smoke consumes you as the heli careens towards the ground. You dive forwards into the cockpit further, heart racing.

“Razor 1 going down! We’re going down!” The pilot calls and the vehicle meets the ground with a sickening screech. 

Not a single limb escapes the impact and flames sear into your vision. Something is buzzing in your ear and you hack out a cough, raising a hand to the comms.

“Alpha what’s your status?!” Ghost growls in your ear and through the haze you can hear the panic. “Alpha, how copy?”

You crane your neck, taking a quick inventory of the bodies strewn around – some still, some moving. 

“Bravo,” you manage to rasp, lungs burning. You lean over the pilot, fingers pressed under his jaw and against his neck. “Alpha is immobile. Multiple critical!”

Glass sprays as bullets spew in your direction, you lunge to the ground, swearing. 

“Shit!” You swear, comms still on. “We’re taking effective fire here, LT!”

You can hear Ghost swear back, “Alpha, we’re moving to building 1. Hold tight!”

You grit your teeth, you know he can’t just rush over to your aid. The priority is Hassan. You can hear Soap argue in the background but Ghost shuts him down. 

“Roger that, LT.” You reply, ducking as another round is sent your way. You fling a flash-bang back before popping up and returning fire.

You turn around, a young marine called “Red” has managed to pull the wounded inside and flagged the dead. You continue providing cover as he works. It’s dark out but the flames fuck with your night vision. The enemy has the advantage. You take aim at a small group in the treeline, gasping when a single bullet burrows into your shoulder. Pain flares and the impact sends you into the control panel.

“Fuckin’ sniper,” you warn the other soldiers as you push yourself up, “watch it, we’re sitting ducks here.”

“Affirmative.” One replies, from where he crouches near the now-lowered ramp.

“Alpha 0-2, Bravo 0-7.” Ghost crackles through your earpiece and you almost sigh with relief. 

“Tell me you’ve got some good news for me, LT.” 

“Building two secure,” he says by way of assurance, “We’re coming for you.”

“Roger,” you respond, signalling to the marine by the ramp to hold his fire. “Ramp’s down – we’re waiting for you.”

You stumble over to the man kneeling amongst the bodies, holding your shoulder as the figures of Ghost and Soap enter the heli. “What’s the total, Red?”

“We got five KIA and one wounded, not including you,” the soldier says, stumbling to his feet.

“Including you?” Ghost asks, as he and Soap come to stand in front of you. 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, we need to move him though.” You say, pointing at the wounded soldier.

Ghost shakes his head, eyeing the window, gun raised. “No time. They’re here. Get your gun on that treeline.”

You catch some ammo Soap throws your way. “I’ve had my fucking gun on that treeline the whole time, there’s too many.”

Bullets ping off the hull of the heli and you return fire, struggling to see through the haze of the flames, your shoulder burning.

“Got movement.” Soap calls from your right, squinting through his scope.

“Engage!” Ghost responds, firing rounds at the figures moving through the trees.

You spot movement and move your scope to get a closer look. “Shooters at the wall!” You warn.

“You fuckin’ called it, LT.” Soap says, swearing as he ducks to reload. 

The smokey haze is impossible to penetrate and you pull your night vision visor back just as a projectile soars in your direction. 

“RPG!” Red yells, the warning useless as your very bones vibrate as it explodes agains the side of the heli. An arm wraps under yours, pulling you to your feet.

“Gun up, Rags.” He says roughly, already raising his gun. “They’re getting close!”

Your wound throbs as the butt of your rifle returns to your shoulder but you make quick work of a group of hostiles running towards the chopper. 

“We clear?” Soap asks after what seems like hours but is only mere minutes.

Ghost squints through his scope, the gunfire has ceased but flares roar. “For now,” he raises an hand to his ear, “7-6, call for fire. I want air on that treeline.“

He turns to you, “Air-support’s three minutes out. Stay sharp.”

The wreckage shakes with a loud thrum and you stumble into Ghost. He rights you, raising his gun. 

“They’re launching fucking grenades!” You cry, mirroring your Lieutenant, reloading and picking off the hostiles before they can launch more.  

Out of the corner of your eye you see a man fall to the ground. “Red’s hit! Man down!”

Ghost steps in front of you are you make for the marine. “He’s dead. Keep your gun up, Sergeant.”

Tears burn in your eyes. He was so young. 

You force yourself to ignore Red’s body as you take up his position by the ramp.

“Ghost, we should fall back to the house,” you hear Soap call over the bullets and explosions.

“Negative.” is the Lieutenants gruff response, “We clear this position and push hard. If Hassan’s still here, he’s out ahead.”

✧˚ · .

“LT, I spot armoured vehicles! There’s four of them!” A marine from Bravo team calls out.

“Conserve your ammo,” the Lieutenant calls back, “Let ‘em get close.”

The comms crackle, notifying you of incoming air-support.  You send back an affirmative, tensing against Ghost who crouches next to you as the vehicles are cleared – the heat of the explosion flaring as the heli rocks,

He pats you once on the shoulder and you wince. He doesn’t notice, gesturing you to follow and you quickly reload before moving after him. The rugged roads and graveyard of exploded vehicles soon morphs into fields and you flick your night vision visor back down, the light of the flames behind you. 

“There’s a sniper up ahead, Rags you take point.” Ghost calls as you run towards the second building. 

He grips your wrist for a second and you turn, gun poised away from him as you give him a questioning look. He gestures to a body on the right, a marine. Your heart sinks. You follow Ghosts hand and where he points to the rifle in the dead marine’s grip. 

He covers you as you sling your G3 across your back, prising the weapon from the mans grip. You quickly asses it for any damage and nod to Ghost – it’s in good shape. The Lieutenant follows, guarding your six as you squint through the scope. You can see a flash from the roof, something reflective is catching the flames from the distance. The sniper. Now knowing his position you find him immediately through your scope and take a deep breath before firing. The bullet zips through the air, the silencer giving a sharp huff of air. 

“Good shot there, Rags,” Soap clasps your shoulder and you flash him a grin. 

“Not just here to look pretty, mate.” You respond, moving towards the building, covering the squad from your vantage point. Air-support opens fire on the other side of the building and you take it was your chance to enter.  Now is the hard part – find Hassan dead or alive.

✧˚ · .

Taglist

@crosshairs773fp @alanalanalanalanalanna @ghostlythots @hyperfixationwhore @shinebright2000 @sae1kie @zozosrandomthings @hotaruteba @01trickster10 @karurururu @moonsua1 @rorel1a @http-paprika @thriving-n-jiving @lazybutsmexy

Reply if you want to be added :)

Masterlist

[swaqcenix]

༻ It comes and goes | Natasha Romanoff ༺

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

Summary: You've spent a chunk of your life battling the emotional thoughts of bipolar and have no concept on dealing with your emotions. Sitting in the rain does feel like drowning but it's comforting, until a hand from Romanoff drags you out of the depths of water.

Warnings: reader has bipolar, mentions of low thoughts, a shit ton of hurt/comfort, natasha just allowing reader to understand it's okay to not be okay!

Word Count: 1.8K

AN: This is just a small comfort fic while I work on my peggy!yandere fic and of course the strip club natasha one. (I haven't forgotten them!)

Wrote this a while back just to cope with my own diagnosis and anyone is welcome to gain comfort from it. Be my happy flowers guys! <3

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

There's one thing people never quite clarify with you, that the older you get just becomes more hard to swim. Kids always jump for growing up and throwing away their innocence not knowing of the tidal wave coming slowly along the sea, prepared to drown out your every thought of contentment.

Aged 10 was the last time you could ever remember not suffering with the constant feeling of a pit of anxiety, suffering and longing to allow the waters of the sea to suck you in. The way you used to place fictional games with your friends, always being petty shit's on the concept of, "Ask... it's not my game," or the fighting of being first in the lunch line.

You'd kept the diagnosis quiet when joining the Avengers, not wanting any of your fellow teammates to think any less of you. You'd felt less of yourself the moment the words of the diagnosis slipped from the nurses tongue 5 years prior. 5 years officially diagnosed but you didn't feel any lighter, instead you felt heavier.

"Sometimes we like to do CBT," the woman stated and your head tilted to the side.

"What's CBT?" Your hands bounced on your knees.

Slipping out the compound wasn't the easiest job. You'd all had meetings back to back with Ross and the damn government. An excuse slipped past your lips faster than it should have done. You'd stated only that you couldn't attend the final one as you'd had to go pick up your little sister.

Sure it would have been a valid excuse. If you actually had a sister. Yet, you didn't so you knew you'd be caught out eventually especially if Fury found out already knowing your background including family members. Still, you'd deal with that when the moment occurred for it.

"It's called cognitive behavioural therapy. It's commonly used for depression or anxiety but we do tend to use it on other patients like in your case to help you to cope with living with bipolar."

Your brain tried to stay focused but all you heard was the words 'your bipolar,' then began to shut off. After that the session was a blur. No thoughts passed your mind, no feelings ran through your veins nor emotions. Just the concept of numbness. Nothing to feel.

Heading back to the compound was a stressful moment. As soon as you walked through the doors you'd have to put on a whole front again pretending you were and felt something you didn't.

In all honesty it was comforting to sometimes be able to do that. Around your therapist, the outside world even your family they treaded lightly, afraid one word would break you like shattering glass hitting the floor or a porcelain doll. With the Avengers they didn't know, so you weren't a doll and you weren't glass. You were yourself and that alone.

However, sometimes it would be nice to just let yourself go. Your feet padded up the stairs of the compound entering the main room, the lounge where they sat watching TV and discussing.

"Hey, Y/N.. you okay?" Sam's voice was the first to speak but it sounded.. concerned?

"Yeah, fine thanks Sam," you responded allowing your eyes to meet his own.

Trying to act as casually as you always did, you went to grab a glass of water turning on the tap watching it run down the sink hole. You often wished you could be flushed away like that.

Shaking your head away from deeper thoughts you grabbed your glass sipping at the water looking up to see everyone examining you. A familiar feeling of dread, the emotional tidal waves flushing through your skin wanting out came crashing to the surface.

They surely couldn't know, right?

Vision spoke up first, possibly to ease up the tension though you can hardly imagine toaster man knowing much about emotions. No offence to the guy.

"We were told you.. you're an only child," his voice seemed one not of judgment but of confusion.

"Oh.. right," was the only response your brain could conjure up in that moment.

Tony let out a half-sided smile and you were grateful he wasn't digging too much. Surprisingly none of them were. He did speak up after a beat or two and while it wasn't their fault you did wish they wouldn't at all.

"Whatever is going on, we.. we're here," His tone was the best of sentiment you'd get out of him.

You truly were grateful but you hadn't a moments thought on how to even tell them. Fear of being kicked off the team, living half a life amongst them simply for suffering with some health issues was silly to other's minds, but not to your own.

Shaking your head you grabbed your jacket you'd left on the chair offering them all a tight lipped smile. Your eyes connected with Natasha's and your eyes felt like watering. She wasn't looking at you like you were damaged, nor was it in a concerned only look.

Nat was looking at you like she knew, like she understood what you felt and the pain gnawing away at you only grew. Her emerald green eyes looking one of connecting with nature swimming with the look of understanding was a pain you couldn't bare.

You mumbled that you needed air, heading towards the patio you'd become familiar with at night. It had become a comfort location, you'd seen Natasha out there a few times although, come to think of it lately she seemed to not be heading there anymore.

The mumbling and mainly muffled voices of the Avengers informed you that it was raining, but your brain scarcely paid attention. You just needed out, besides who gives a fuck if the rain touched your skin.

Your brain danced with thoughts of how to calm yourself down and you knew instantly, as your reached into your back pocket slipping in your airpods and connected them to your phone. Sliding open the patio door, you ungracefully sat down on the bench looking down as the rain hit your skin.

Hair becoming drenched you focused on your chosen song, trying to drown out any invading thoughts that would cluster your mindset, instead focusing on how you felt utterly at home.

The chosen song had been Waves by Dean Lewis. It reminded you so much of how your brain's concept of emotions and how your life seemed to go in waves of the ocean.

Sometimes you saw yourself standing next to the ocean as it pulled you out. The freedom of falling, allowing yourself to no longer panic over bipolar or how the world saw you.

The rain splashed down heavily on your skin and you felt wet through but you didn't mind, or frankly didn't care. Nor were you sure how long you had been listening to songs in the rain, it felt late but it felt like seconds.

A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. Your mind had been dancing to Paris, Texas by Lana until your body almost jolted forward from the contact. The sudden shelter from the rain made your head tilt up to come in contact with emerald eyes.

Natasha stood tall, almost protecting you- sheltering you from the rain, a beacon of hope. You offered the best smile you could give, despite the fact it looked like you were in pain more than smiling before indicating to her to sit down.

Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders, pulled half back into a plait that was elegant but moved with ease. It suited her just as most things did. You'd noticed that about her, for a woman who'd been through so much Natasha did everything with elegance and ease.

"You know, when I was a child I used to run out into the rain, the firefly's came out at night," She confessed causing you to stiffen up.

Natasha wasn't one for opening up, let alone talking of her childhood past, so why you? You let her express her thoughts almost curious to see where she was going to take this.

"My mom she'd come out to find me afterwards and I was always helping my little sister who also danced away with the firefly's. It wasn't real though. Not truly," She proceeded and your heart melted and cracked for the older woman.

"Nat I.."

You weren't even sure what to respond with. Hearing her open up around her past made your own pain seem tiny, insignificant despite the fact she wasn't attempting to do that.

"You don't need to say anything, I understand. Perhaps not what you're going through. The feeling of masking right, I see it," she continued tilting her head towards you.

She proceeded her train of thought.

"It comes and goes in waves. The feeling of this family. I had no one after the family I grew up with, no one but myself. Don't drown your thoughts out in the rain, drag yourself up out of the ocean, trust me Y/N."

You finally looked up making eye contact with the Russian, smiling softly at her nodding. You took off your glove reaching sighing looking down at your hands.

"Sometimes, my therapist gets it to a certain extent but sometimes she doesn't. When it feels like all you can do it float out to sea and drown in a pit of your own emotions. The masking isn't something I want to do, but simply so people don't see my problems.. they just see me."

A tear slipped down your cheek without even realising it and you closed your eyes. Nothing was spoken amongst the pouring of the rain, nothing was needed to be said. All that was needed was the words you let echo. It felt like you were drowning in a sea of hell, with no way out.

Through the mist and fog engulfing your brain, taking you out to the sea you felt a touch upon your hand. Eyes opening wide, you saw it. Her hand clasped tightly in your own trying to drag you out of the suffering, reach to you through the ocean like a beacon of a ship, rising up it's anchor.

Her eyes looked into your own, reflecting what she wanted to say but had no thoughts on how to express it. Her touch was all you needed, the words slipping past your mouth before you could think.

"Your family.. It might not have been directly real, but they pulled you out of the waves while it lasted, it was real to you Natasha," You explained watching it pull at her heart strings.

She offered you a watery smile, her eyes dancing with sea of hope just as your own while you were perhaps an an anchor in the waves you steadied each other out in a balance.

"This family is real to you too. We are real and we see you. I see you Y/N," Her voice bringing comfort and warmth.

You grabbed her hand tightly because while your bipolar had an anchor on you, you had a ship lifting you through the sea's Natasha and your little family. They were there to guide you.

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Three

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smoking (cigarettes) word count: 3.4k a/n: thank you so much for the love on this series!! just letting y'all know it's gonna be a slow burn so it's gonna be quite the long series. also made this chapter a bit longer so pls lmk if you like the longer chapters. things will get more exciting from here dw. love you all <3

pov: layla

I was planning on staying at school the whole day, I truly was. But when I felt more eyes on me than usual and murmurs surrounded me with every step I took, I decided I didn't have the energy to endure the whole day. I would skip my next two lessons and come back after lunch, considering I skipped my last two lessons yesterday and the whole point of me being here was to not get expelled for missing too many lessons.

Matt and Chris talked amongst themselves behind me as I walked to my locker but stopped earlier than when I reached it considering theirs were a fair distance from mine. I swung my locker open, still hearing murmurs of my name as people passed by me and I sighed, resting my head on the small shelf inside my locker. I looked across the hallway to see Matt talking to both of his brothers now, looking like they were having a serious conversation.

I pulled my bag out of my locker, swinging it onto my shoulder before I slammed the door closed louder than I usually would out of frustration. People turned to look at me and I slid my hood on, walking down the hallway as people started filtering out for their next class. I walked out the front door without being stopped by anyone, a breath of relief leaving me but once I noticed how hard it was raining, my shoulders slumped slightly.

I couldn't be bothered walking all the way home and back, especially in this rain but I also couldn't stand being at school at the moment. Amidst my thoughts and pulling my pack of cigarettes out of my bag along with my silver zippo lighter, I hadn't noticed the doors of the school opening.

"Hey, social butterfly," Matt appeared beside me, his hair now covered by a black baseball cap. I placed a cigarette between my lips, throwing the packet in my bag before lighting the end of it, "You're gonna smoke that here?"

"Social butterfly?" I asked, not responding to his question verbally as I took puffs of the cigarette.

"The first thing that came to mind," he shrugged, leaning his back against the brick wall behind him.

"Don't you have a class to get to, Captain?" I asked, sarcasm in my tone as he smirked at me. I made sure to blow the smoke away from his face as I spoke since I knew how much it pissed most people off.

"Don't you?" he retorted and I rolled my eyes, looking out at the rain-filled car park in front of me, "Where you going?"

"Don't know," I shrugged, not looking over at him as I spoke, "Can't stand being here but I can't be fucked walking home and back."

"Why don't you wanna be here?" he asked, his question sounding genuinely curious rather than prying.

"Because people can't shut their fucking mouths about me," I answered more harshly than intended before I looked to my right at him, noticing he was looking at the cigarette in my hand, "You want one?"

"Oh no. I don't- I've never..." he trailed off, shaking his head making me snicker to myself.

"Of course not," I mumbled, taking another hit before I let my right-hand drop to my side again, flicking the ash on the floor. Suddenly, the cigarette had been taken from my hand and Matt held it between his lips, taking a long drag.

He exhaled the smoke before he started coughing, holding his chest in the process making me chuckle at him. I took the cigarette from his hand, his cold rings brushing my fingers as I did so.

"You good?" I asked, amusement written on my face and he nodded, coughing lightly, "Went a bit hard for your first time there, pretty boy."

He had a pained look on his face as he looked over at me while I took another drag, looking out at the rain that didn't seem to stop, "How do you do that? It's not even enjoyable."

With a shrug, I said, "Just habitual at this point."

A silence fell between us for a few moments before Matt asked, "You hungry?"

"What?" I asked, pure confusion on my face as I looked at him and he pushed away from the wall.

"I wanna go to McDonald's. You might as well come with," he answered before swinging the door open to the school and walking inside. I stayed in my position, debating whether or not it's a good idea to go with him.

I didn't have any money on me but I also didn't want to stand here for the next few hours doing nothing so by the time he returned, backpack on his shoulder, I dropped the last of the cigarette on the ground. I squished it with my feet before turning to him.

"I don't have any money for food," I told him honestly and he waved me off as he grabbed his keys from his backpack.

"My treat," he answered quickly before he walked into the rain towards his car. I watched as his pace quickened and I bit my lip out of nervous habit. I shortly followed after him, jogging towards the car before I jumped in the passenger seat and swung the door closed behind me.

"I can pay you back tomorrow," I said as he started the car and he gave me a strange look as if he didn't know why I said that.

"It's just McDonald's. My bank account will live," he replied with a smirk and I shook my head.

"I'm fine to pay you back, I just don't have any money on me right now," I pushed further, never liking the idea of people buying things for me.

"Layla, I promise you it's fine. I asked if you were hungry, not if you had money to pay for your own food," he stated matter-of-factly and I pursed my lips before I slumped back into my seat. A brief pause was placed in the car before he said, "Seatbelt."

"Oh shit. Right," I clicked myself in quickly before he repeated the process of placing his right hand on my headrest, turning around and spinning the wheel with his left hand as he reversed.

"You can be on aux if you want," he said as he put the car in drive and we rolled out of the car park.

"I doubt you will like my music," I mumbled in response and he smirked, glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road.

"Try me," he answered and I raised my eyebrows, grabbing my phone from my pocket and plugging it into the aux cable. I clicked on my most recent playlist, the first song being Message in a Bottle by the Police. I looked over at Matt to study his reaction to the music, his hand tapping against the wheel lightly along to the beat.

I hummed along to the song, looking out of the window at the rain pattering along the road. As we pulled into the cark park of McDonald's, the next song began playing which was Paper Machete by Queens of the Stone Age.

"What do you want?" Matt asked as we joined the back of the small queue of cars in the drive-thru, leaning his elbow on the window as he placed his head on his hand.

"Uh..." I trailed off, trying to think of what to get since I hadn't ordered fast food in a while, "Just a large fries is fine."

"You don't want anything else? Cheeseburger or nuggets or something?" he asked and I shrugged, "You like nuggets?"

"I don't mind them," I answered truthfully and he nodded.

"You want a drink?" he asked as we rolled up slowly, only one car in front of us before we had to order.

"Just a medium sweat tea is fine," I replied and he nodded before we rolled up to order.

Matt ordered what he wanted first before ordering my fries and sweat tea but I turned my head when he said, "Oh and can I get a 20-piece nuggets as well. Thanks."

With that, he rolled up to the next window and used his phone to pay for the food before we waited.

"Do you really need 20 nuggets?" I asked and he smirked at me, leaning against his hand again.

"No that's why you're gonna have some," he answered like it was obvious and I frowned. We pulled up to the last window, grabbing our food and Matt handed me the drinks to put in the cupholder before he gave them a quick thank you. He pulled into a car park and slid his seatbelt off.

"Give me the receipt," I held my hand in the middle of the car, sliding the seatbelt off my body and he held the bag in his lap.

"Why?" he asked with a squint of his eyes and I did small grabby-hands with my hand that was reached out.

"I wanna know how much it all was," I answered honestly and he shook his head.

"You don't need to. You're not paying me back," he said with a smile as he handed me one of the large fries from the bag and placed the nuggets on the console in between us.

"Matthew. Give me the receipt," I deadpanned and he grabbed the receipt out of the bag. I was waiting for him to hand it to me but instead, he started ripping it into pieces making me groan, "You're an asshole."

"I'm an asshole because I'm paying for your food?" he asked, a smile still on his lips as I frowned at him while he began eating his food.

"You're an asshole for not letting me pay you back," I mumbled in response as I started picking at my fries.

"Have a nugget and you'll forget all about it," he shrugged, sliding the nuggets towards me slightly and I rolled my eyes, reluctantly grabbing one from the box, "When do you wanna go back?"

"Never," I instinctually answered and he just looked at me, waiting for a real response, "I don't know. I need to go back for my last two periods."

"We can go back at lunch?" he asked and I nodded in response before I turned up the volume on the radio that was still playing music from my phone. The song that was now playing was Hypnotize by Biggie and I lip-synced silently to the words as I slowly ate my food, "So you do listen to rap."

"I listen to everything," I shrugged and he hummed suspiciously making me look at him with a squint, "What?"

"Nothin'," he shrugged, an amused look on his face, "Just hear people say that a lot and they listen to the same three genres."

"Give me a genre and I'll name at least three artists I listen to," I challenged and he chuckled before turning to face me more.

"Pop," he looked at me intently.

"Lady Gaga, Billie Eilish, Beyonce," I answered easily and he nodded.

"Metal?"

"What kind of metal?" I asked, knowing he just group all heavier music together, "Nu metal would be Slipknot, Korn and Limp Bizkit. Death metal would be Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel and Blood Bath. Metal core would be Bring Me the Horizon, Parkway Drive and Trivium. Or heavy metal would be Black Sabbath, Pantera and Van Halen. Shall I go on?"

"Alright I got it," he chuckled before taking a sip of his drink as he thought again, "What about rap?"

"Tyler the Creator, Biggie and Trippie Red," I answered confidently and he nodded again.

"Jazz?" he asked and I snickered as he was struggling to think of more genres.

"Billie Holiday, Miles Davis and Nat King Cole," I had a cocky look on my face and he raised his eyebrows.

"Country," he stated, now looking as if he was trying to challenge me more.

"Kasey Musgraves, Zach Bryan and Shania Twain,"

"Grunge,"

"Soundgarden, Nirvana and Alice in Chains,"

"Reggae,"

"Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and Jimmy Cliff,"

"Rock,"

"Foo Fighters, that's a big one, Lenny Kravitz and Fleetwood Mac,"

"Okay, I got no more. You win," he held his hand up in surrender with an amused look on his face.

"I mean I could keep going but I'll let you think about it for a while," I answered, a small smile on my lips triumphantly. He just stared at me for a moment, unmoving as he studied my face, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

I wiped my hands around my mouth and he shook his head with a smile, "No. I've just never seen you smile before."

"Oh," I let my smile drop, feeling slightly insecure as he stared at me.

"You should do it more," he shrugged as he threw his trash in the empty bag, "You have a pretty smile."

"Alright, stop gassing me up. I just proved you wrong on so many levels," I answered, brushing off his compliment as I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, you're right. Don't wanna make your ego too big, rockstar," He answered with a chuckle and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"Rockstar?" I questioned, finishing the rest of my fries before throwing the trash in the bag he had now placed in the back seat.

With a shrug, he replied, "You like music a lot. Just seems fitting."

"You come up with the weirdest names," I stated and he smirked at me cockily.

"Don't think I didn't notice what you called me earlier," he said making me frown further in confusion, "When I was coughing my fucking lungs up. You called me pretty boy."

"At least the names I call you make sense," I rolled my eyes, trying to brush over the fact I called him that.

"So you think I'm pretty?" he asked, the mischievous look written across his face.

"Now whose ego is big," I raised my eyebrows, a small smile falling onto my lips.

"You're the one who said it!" he threw his hands out in front of him dramatically making me chuckle.

"It's fitting because you're conventionally attractive and that's why so many people love you," I shrugged, a smile still on my lips, "And plus you're captain of the hockey team. That always gets you far in popularity."

"You don't seem to care about popularity though," he stated, a questioning tone behind his words and I nodded.

"Why do you think I never talk to anyone?" I asked rhetorically before I looked out the window, "Yet people still love to talk about me."

"I mean..." Matt trailed off making me look back at him to see he was still looking at me, "I never really intended to be popular. I kinda hate it honestly."

"What's there to hate about being the most loved person in the school?" I asked with a distasteful chuckle.

"I only talk to my friends but everyone still loves to talk about me," he echoed my statement from earlier and I bit my bottom lip while nodding, "It's not all bad. Just gets annoying sometimes."

"At least people say nice things about you," I mumbled making his eyebrows furrow as he looked at me, adjusting his hair in his hat.

"Not always," he retorted making me look at him as I took a sip of my drink, "Especially with Chris being my brother and the fucking idiot he can be. Just because he's with a new girl every week, doesn't mean I am."

"Not as bad as people saying I killed my neighbour's cat," I raised my eyebrows and he pursed his lips, nodding in agreement.

"I can't argue with that one," he smiled a little bit as I bit my lip again, "How many piercings do you have?"

His sudden question threw me off but I answered regardless, "Nine."

"Wow," he seemed surprised and I now noticed the fact he had his ears pierced, the shiny silver earrings dangling from his ears.

"I have my septum, eyebrow, 3 in each ear and then my tongue," I stuck my tongue out to show him the silver bar that was through my tongue and he once again raised his eyebrows.

"Do you have any tattoos?" he asked and I nodded. Instead of explaining, I slid my leather jacket off and my black hoodie. I showed him the black and white tattoos that scattered across my arms, all for various different meanings.

"I also have a couple on my legs but kinda hard to show you those right now," I shrugged and he grabbed my wrist, pulling my left arm towards him gently as he looked at the permanent art on my skin.

"What's this one?" he asked, pointing to one of the bigger tattoos I had on my tricep.

"It's the welcome home cake from Coraline," I explained as his fingertips dragged over the tattoo raising goosebumps on my skin, studying it like he was genuinely intrigued, "My mum and I used to watch it a lot when I was little. It's always been my favourite movie."

"That's cool," he smiled at me, letting go of my wrist and I slid my hoodie back on, the cold air nipping at my skin, "I wanna get more tattoos. Where do you get yours?"

"Uh, one of my dad's friends did them. He's not licensed though so I'd recommend going somewhere that's professional," I smiled tightly before I realised I'd never noticed his tattoos, "I didn't know you had any tattoos."

"My parents said I have to wait till I graduate to get ones that are visible like on my arms and legs and stuff. But I have these on my hips," he lifted up the hem of his hoodie, sliding the waistband of his jeans down slightly to reveal two lightning bolts on either side of his waist travelling along his v-line.

"Oh wow," I took in a breath, feeling my face heat up as he slid the waistband back up and fixed the hem of his hoodie.

"I also have these on my collarbones," he announced as he pulled down the neckline of the hoodie to reveal a trail of leaves on either side of his collarbones.

I smirked as I looked at them before looking up at his face, "Big on the symmetry I see."

He shrugged in response before grabbing his drink and finishing the last of it, "I don't know what to get next."

"You gonna get any more piercings?" I asked, genuine curiosity in my words and he shrugged, "You should get a lip piercing."

"I'd have to wait till the seasons over if I get any piercings because I'd have to take it out before I play," he explained and I shrugged in response.

"It's only another month right?" I asked and he nodded in response, "Come with me when I get my lip pierced when the season is over then."

"You think a lip piercing would look good on me?" he asked, pulling his visor down to look at himself in the mirror.

"Mhm," I hummed in response as I looked at him inspecting his own face in the mirror, "Wait. I have an idea."

I unclipped one of my tiny hoop earrings from my ear, making sure to clean it a bit with the sleeve of my hoodie, "Look at me."

He turned to face me and I grabbed his chin to turn his head to the right further. I grabbed the small ring in between my fingers as he just stared at me before I mumbled, "I can't put it on if you have your mouth closed."

He let his jaw open, leaving his mouth ajar as I slid the ring over his lip. I moved it around, realising it didn't sit properly since it wasn't positioned on the inside of his lip correctly. I used my left thumb to pull his bottom lip down slightly and he looked at me intently while I slid the ring further down his lip till it looked satisfactory.

"There!" I nodded and he looked back to the mirror, tilting his head side to side to see if he liked it, "Perfect."

"Why get a piercing when I can just put on a fake one?" he asked with a smirk and I noticed the ring flash in the light as he turned to face me.

"Because fake piercings are corny," I deadpanned and he ran his tongue over the ring.

"It feels weird," he said before looking back at himself in the mirror, "But it does look good."

"Told you," I smiled at him and he shook his head with a smile on his lips.

"Should I leave it on when we go back to school and freak everyone out?" he asked, a mischievous look on his face as I pursed my lips with a nod, thinking of the shock on people's faces when the Matthew Sturniolo would walk into school with a lip piercing, or at least a fake one.

[novaursa]

Part 16

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, Final

The sun rose over King's Landing, casting long shadows across the city as its new ruler prepared to address the people. The streets were packed with smallfolk, their faces a mix of curiosity, apprehension, and barely contained anger. The tension was palpable as Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, flanked by her husband Daemon and the Sea Snake, Lord Corlys Velaryon, stepped onto the balcony of the Red Keep.

Rhaenyra raised her hand for silence, her expression stern but regal. “People of King’s Landing, I stand before you as your queen. The throne is rightfully mine, and I will rule with justice and strength.”

The crowd was eerily quiet for a moment, the smallfolk exchanging uneasy glances. Then, a murmur began to spread through the masses, growing louder with each passing second.

“Where is King Aegon?” someone shouted, the question echoing across the square.

“And Queen Vaella?” another voice demanded.

A woman pushed her way to the front, holding a crying child. “What about the prince and princesses? What have you done to them?”

Rhaenyra’s face tightened, but she forced herself to remain calm. “Aegon and Vaella are traitors to the realm. They fled the city rather than face justice.”

The crowd’s reaction was immediate and hostile. “Liar!” someone screamed. “We loved them! They protected us!”

Another voice rang out, filled with anger. “You killed Prince Aeron in his cradle! You starved us with your blockade of the Gullet!”

The cries of outrage grew louder, the crowd pressing forward, their faces twisted with fury. “Rhaenyra the Cruel!” they chanted. “King Maegor with teats!”

Rhaenyra’s expression turned to one of shock and disbelief. She had expected resistance, but the sheer hatred and vitriol from the smallfolk were overwhelming. Daemon stepped forward, his hand on his sword hilt, ready to protect his wife.

Corlys raised his hands, trying to calm the crowd. “Peace, people of King’s Landing! Queen Rhaenyra is here to bring stability and justice to the realm!”

But the crowd was beyond reason. “You’re all murderers!” a man shouted, brandishing a makeshift weapon. “We want justice for Aegon and Vaella! We want the truth!”

The situation quickly escalated. The people began to surge forward, the guards struggling to hold them back. Stones and debris were thrown, the projectiles whistling through the air and clattering against the walls of the Red Keep.

“Protect the queen!” Daemon roared, drawing his sword and positioning himself in front of Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened as she realized the full extent of the danger. “We must withdraw,” she said urgently, grabbing Daemon’s arm. “We need to retreat inside.”

Corlys nodded, his face grim. “Back into the Keep! Now!”

The guards formed a protective barrier, pushing the queen and her entourage back through the doors of the Red Keep. The crowd’s fury was unrelenting, their cries of “Rhaenyra the Cruel!” echoing through the air.

Inside, the heavy doors were slammed shut, the sounds of the enraged populace muffled but still ominous. Rhaenyra leaned against the wall, her breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps.

“They hate me,” she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief. “They truly hate me.”

Daemon sheathed his sword, his face a mask of anger and concern. “They are fools, blinded by their love for Aegon and Vaella. We will need to be careful.”

Corlys nodded, his expression thoughtful. “The people have not forgotten their love for Aegon and Vaella, nor the wounds inflicted by the blockade and Aeron’s death. We need to tread carefully or risk losing the city entirely.”

Rhaenyra nodded, but the fear and uncertainty in her heart remained. The people’s rejection was a bitter pill to swallow, a stark reminder of the tenuous nature of power. She had claimed the Iron Throne, but the battle for the hearts and minds of the realm was far from over.

…

The corridors of the Red Keep seemed darker and more oppressive than ever as Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen made her way to the chambers that had once been shared by Vaella and Aegon. It had been some time since the riot in the city, and the unrest among the people had not entirely subsided. Rhaenyra knew she needed to address the root of the tension—her relationship with her sister.

As she approached the door, guarded by her loyal men, she took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. She signaled for the guards to open the door and stepped inside.

Vaella was seated by the window, her gaze distant as she looked out over the city. She turned as Rhaenyra entered, her expression a mix of surprise and wariness.

“Rhaenyra,” Vaella said, her voice calm but guarded. “What brings you here?”

Rhaenyra tried to soften her expression, though the tension between them was palpable. “I came to talk, Vaella. We need to speak heart to heart, as sisters.”

Vaella raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Talk? About what, Rhaenyra? The way you’ve confined me to these chambers? The way you’ve torn our family apart?”

Rhaenyra took a step closer, trying to find the right words. “Vaella, you must understand. I never wanted things to be this way. But you… you’ve always secretly wanted to be in my place, haven’t you?”

Vaella’s eyes flashed with anger. “Wanted to be in your place? I wished for nothing but peace, Rhaenyra. Aegon and I only ever wanted to be left alone, to love each other and our children in peace.”

Rhaenyra’s face twisted with frustration. “You expect me to believe that? You always had a way of making everything about you. Even now, you sit here, making me the villain.”

Vaella stood, her hands clenched at her sides. “You have made yourself the villain, Rhaenyra. You accuse me of things I had no part in. I had no hand in the deaths of your sons, but you had a hand in the death of my baby son, Aeron.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes blazed with fury. “Aeron’s death was a tragic consequence of this war, a war you and Aegon perpetuated.”

Vaella’s voice trembled with emotion. “We perpetuated? You blockaded the Gullet, starved the city, and now you accuse me of these horrors? You are the one who could never let go of the throne.”

Rhaenyra’s face contorted with rage. “And Baelon? You’re the reason he died. If he had lived, if I had a brother and a clear heir, none of this would have happened. I would have been better off with a brother instead of you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and poisonous. Vaella’s face paled, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and disbelief. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she spoke.

“Get out,” she said, her voice low and trembling with anger. “Get out of my chambers.”

Rhaenyra stood frozen for a moment, her face a mask of conflicted emotions. Then, without another word, she turned and left the room, the door closing behind her with a resounding thud.

Vaella sank back into her chair, the weight of her sister’s words pressing down on her. She had always known there was unspoken bitterness between them, but this confrontation had brought it to the surface in a way that was both heartbreaking and irreparable.

For now, she was alone, but her spirit remained unbroken. She would endure, for the sake of her family and the memory of the love that had once bound her and Rhaenyra together.

In the corridors of the Red Keep, Rhaenyra walked away from her sister’s chambers, her heart heavy with the weight of their fractured bond. The throne was hers, but it had come at a great cost. She could feel the cracks in her rule, the discontent among the people, and the pain of a family torn apart.

As she made her way back to her own chambers, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had lost something precious, something that no amount of power could replace. 

…

Vaella sat alone in her chambers, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the stone walls. The events of the past few days weighed heavily on her mind. She had been confined, separated from her family, and left to worry about the fate of her children and husband. The silence of the room was oppressive, broken only by the distant sounds of the bustling Red Keep.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden chill that swept through the room. She looked up, her heart pounding as the specter of her twin brother, Baelon, appeared before her. His presence was both familiar and terrifying, a ghostly reminder of a past that refused to be forgotten.

"Baelon," Vaella whispered, her voice trembling. "You should have stayed at Harrenhal."

Baelon's ghostly form shimmered in the dim light, his expression unreadable. "Harrenhal has nothing to do with this, Vaella," he replied, his voice cold and echoing. "Rhaenyra was right. You should have died and let me live."

Vaella's eyes filled with a mix of fear and anger. "You don't belong here, Baelon. Leave me in peace."

Baelon's gaze hardened, his ethereal form unmoving. "Peace? Do you think you deserve peace after all that has happened? You took my place, Vaella. You stole my life. Bound my soul to you."

Vaella stood, her hands clenched into fists. "I did not choose this! I have done everything I could to protect our family. I am trying to keep them safe."

Baelon's spectral presence seemed to grow colder, the temperature in the room dropping further. "Safe? Look at where you are, Vaella. Look at what has happened to our family. You are as much to blame as anyone."

Vaella's voice rose in defiance. "I will not listen to this. You are not real. You are just a figment of my guilt and fear. Leave me!"

But Baelon did not move. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes boring into hers. "You cannot run from the truth, Vaella. You cannot hide from what you have done. And there is something you need to know."

Vaella's breath caught in her throat, a sense of dread washing over her. "What is it?" she demanded, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Baelon’s face twisted into a grim smile. "It is about the son you gave birth to. There is something you need to know about him."

Vaella's heart pounded in her chest, a thousand questions racing through her mind. "What about my son?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desperation.

Baelon’s form began to fade, his voice echoing ominously in the dimly lit chamber. "Listen carefully, Vaella, the truth-"

As his presence dissipated, the room fell into an eerie silence. Vaella stood frozen, her mind reeling from the encounter. The specter of her brother had brought with him a chilling revelation, one that left her more unsettled than ever.

She sank back into her chair, her thoughts consumed by the cryptic warning. What could Baelon have meant? What truth was he referring to and left it unspoken? The uncertainty gnawed at her, adding to the already overwhelming weight of her worries.

The candle flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls, but Vaella felt no warmth from its light. She was alone, trapped in a web of fear and uncertainty, haunted by the ghost of her past and the looming threat of her present.

…

Dragonstone loomed large against the horizon, its ancient walls and towering spires a symbol of Targaryen might. Aegon II Targaryen stood on the battlements, looking out over the churning sea. The island fortress had been retaken with surprising swiftness, thanks in no small part to the cunning and strategic mind of Larys Strong. The men Rhaenyra had left to garrison the castle had been won over, their loyalties shifted by promises of gold, power, and the undeniable charisma of Aegon.

The stone walls of the great hall felt both familiar and alien as Aegon walked through them. His children, Princess Daena and Prince Baelor, explored their new home with wide-eyed wonder, their presence a balm to his weary soul. The weight of recent events bore heavily on him, but his determination to protect his family and reclaim his throne was unwavering.

Maester Gerardys, now sworn to serve Aegon, approached him in the hall. The maester's expression was respectful, yet guarded. "Your Grace, the fortress is secure, and the garrison is loyal. Dragonstone is yours."

Aegon nodded, his eyes scanning the room before settling on Gerardys. "Thank you, Maester Gerardys. Ensure that the children are well cared for and that the defenses remain strong. We cannot afford any mistakes."

Gerardys bowed. "Of course, Your Grace. Everything will be as you command."

Later, in the council chamber, Larys Strong stood before Aegon, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a plan well-executed. "Your Grace, it has been a week since we arrived at Dragonstone. I bring news from King's Landing."

Aegon's heart pounded at the mention of the capital. "What news, Larys? Speak quickly."

Larys's expression grew serious. "Queen Vaella has been confined in the Red Keep, along with your mother, Alicent. Rhaenyra's grip on the city is tenuous at best, but she holds them as leverage. However, during the Battle of the Gullet, one of Rhaenyra’s and Daemon’s sons, Viserys, was taken alive by our allies. He is now held as a hostage. We can use this to our advantage."

Aegon's jaw tightened, a mix of anger and worry flashing in his eyes. "Vaella... confined. And my mother too. This cannot stand. We must find a way to free them."

Larys nodded, his voice calm and measured. "We will, Your Grace. But we must be patient and strategic. Rhaenyra's position is not as secure as she believes. We can use the capture of Viserys to negotiate."

Aegon clenched his fists, frustration evident in his voice. "Patience is a luxury we cannot afford. But you are right. We must be smart about this."

Later that evening, Aegon sat in a quiet chamber, the crackling fire casting a warm glow on the stone walls. In his arms, he cradled his newborn son, the weight of the tiny body a comforting presence. The baby had been through so much already, born in the midst of chaos and uncertainty. He was weak and barely moved, his breath shallow.

As Aegon looked into his son's face, he felt a surge of love and protectiveness. The infant stirred, opening his violet eyes, which gleamed with a knowing glee that belied his tender age.

"Baelon," Aegon whispered, a soft smile touching his lips. "I shall name you Baelon, to honor my fallen half-brother and your mother's twin. You carry their legacy within you."

As he spoke the name, a subtle change seemed to come over the baby. His small body, previously weak and still, stirred with newfound vigor. He cooed softly, his tiny fingers curling around Aegon's thumb. Aegon felt a fierce determination rise within him. He would protect this child, ensure that he grew up in a world where he could be safe and loved.

As he held his son, Aegon's thoughts turned to Vaella. He could almost feel her presence, her strength and courage giving him the resolve he needed. He vowed to reunite their family, to bring her back and restore their rightful place.

…

The night sky over Dragonstone was clear and dark, the stars twinkling like a thousand distant fires. High above, the great dragon Sunfyre soared, his golden scales shimmering in the moonlight. The dragon had been restless for days, an unexplainable hunger gnawing at his insides. It was a primal need, an instinct that drove him towards the ancient fortress of Dragonstone.

Sunfyre’s powerful wings beat rhythmically, propelling him through the sky with incredible speed. His keen senses were heightened, his mind attuned to the pull of his rider, Aegon. The bond between dragon and rider was strong, and Sunfyre could feel Aegon’s need, his longing. It called to him like a siren’s song, guiding him across the dark waters.

As Dragonstone came into view, a low growl rumbled from deep within Sunfyre’s chest. The fortress was familiar territory, a place of strength and security. But tonight, it was also a hunting ground. The hunger within Sunfyre was not just for sustenance—it was a need to prove his dominance, to reassert his place as one of the most formidable dragons in existence.

Below, nestled among the jagged rocks and dark caves, lay Grey Ghost, the elusive wild dragon. Grey Ghost had always been a solitary creature, avoiding the conflicts of the Targaryen dragons. He preferred the shadows, hunting fish in the waters around Dragonstone and keeping to himself. But tonight, his solitude would be shattered.

Sunfyre descended silently, his golden scales blending with the night sky. He circled above the rocky outcrop where Grey Ghost rested, his sharp eyes fixed on his prey. The smaller dragon was unaware of the impending danger, his senses dulled by the false security of the night.

With a sudden, powerful dive, Sunfyre struck. His talons extended, he plummeted towards Grey Ghost, the element of surprise on his side. The wild dragon barely had time to react before Sunfyre’s claws raked across his back, drawing blood and eliciting a roar of pain and fury.

Grey Ghost twisted and turned, trying to evade the larger dragon’s grasp, but Sunfyre was relentless. He bit down on Grey Ghost’s neck, his jaws clamping shut with a bone-crushing force. The wild dragon struggled, his wings flapping wildly, but he could not break free.

Sunfyre’s growl deepened, vibrating through his entire body as he shook Grey Ghost like a ragdoll. The smaller dragon’s roars turned to whimpers, his strength fading rapidly. Sunfyre’s teeth tore into his flesh, the taste of blood fueling his primal hunger.

Below, on the battlements of Dragonstone, Aegon and his children watched the sky in awe and fear. The sight of Sunfyre in his full glory was both magnificent and terrifying. The golden dragon was a force of nature, his power and ferocity unmatched.

“Father, what’s happening?” Daena asked, her voice trembling as she clung to Aegon’s side.

Aegon placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his eyes never leaving the sky. “Sunfyre is hunting, my dear. He is proving his strength.”

Baelor, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination, asked, “Will he be alright?”

Aegon nodded, his voice filled with confidence. “Sunfyre is the strongest dragon. He will be fine.”

Above, the battle reached its climax. Grey Ghost’s struggles grew weaker, his roars fading into pitiful whimpers. With a final, crushing bite, Sunfyre ended the wild dragon’s life. He roared triumphantly, the sound echoing across the island and beyond.

Sunfyre tore into Grey Ghost’s flesh with a ravenous hunger, devouring his prey with brutal efficiency. The taste of victory was sweet, and the satisfaction of his hunger brought a sense of fulfillment. He had proven his dominance, reasserted his place as a dragon to be feared and respected.

As the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, Sunfyre lifted his bloodied muzzle from the carcass of Grey Ghost. He spread his wings and took to the sky once more, his golden scales glistening in the early morning light. He flew towards the battlements of Dragonstone, where his rider and his family awaited.

Aegon stepped forward as Sunfyre landed, his expression one of pride and relief. “You’ve done well, Sunfyre,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “You’ve shown your strength once again.”

Sunfyre lowered his massive head, allowing Aegon to place a hand on his snout. The bond between them was palpable, a connection forged through shared victories and mutual respect.

Daena and Baelor approached cautiously, their fear replaced by awe. “He’s incredible,” Daena whispered, her eyes wide with wonder.

Baelor nodded, his voice filled with reverence. “The greatest dragon of all.”

Aegon smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “Indeed he is. Sunfyre is a symbol of our strength, a reminder of what we are capable of.”

…

The dimly lit chamber of the Red Keep felt like a prison. Heavy curtains were drawn against the windows, casting long, somber shadows that clung to the walls. Vaella Targaryen lay on the bed, her body weak and trembling from the aftershocks of her premature birth. Despite her best efforts, the trauma lingered, and her mind wandered incessantly between hope and despair.

She instinctively placed a hand on her still-swollen belly, a pang of sorrow striking her heart. The memory of her newborn son, so fragile and silent when he had to be taken from her, haunted her. She wondered if he had survived, if he was being cared for, if he was even alive.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. A young servant girl entered, carrying a tray of food. The girl’s eyes were downcast as she approached the bed.

“Your Grace, I’ve brought you some food,” the servant said quietly, placing the tray on a small table beside the bed.

Vaella nodded, barely acknowledging the girl’s presence. “Thank you,” she murmured, though the thought of eating made her stomach churn. The servant quickly left, leaving Vaella alone once more.

As the door closed, Vaella’s mind drifted to her other children, Baelor and Daena. She pictured their innocent faces, their bright eyes filled with wonder and fear. She prayed they were safe, wherever they were. Tears welled up in her eyes, the weight of her separation from them almost too much to bear.

In the stillness of her chamber, another presence made itself known. Her twin, Baelon, appeared at the edge of her vision, his pale, ghostly form a haunting reminder of her past. His eyes, so much like her own, bore into her with silent accusation.

“Why are you here again?” Vaella whispered, her voice trembling. “Why can’t you leave me in peace?”

Baelon’s ghostly form remained silent, his expression one of sorrow and judgment. Vaella felt the weight of his gaze, the accusation unspoken but clear: she had taken his soul, bound him to her in this world as long as she lived.

“Go away!” she screamed suddenly, her voice echoing off the stone walls. “Leave me in peace, at least for tonight!”

The specter of Baelon faded into the shadows, leaving Vaella alone with her guilt and despair. She did not know how to free him, how to unbind his soul from hers. The weight of this unknown hung over her like a dark cloud, a constant reminder of her failure.

Exhausted, she lay back on the bed, her thoughts turning once more to Aegon. She longed to be with him, to feel his comforting presence beside her. She pictured him on Dragonstone, holding their fragile son, his face filled with a determination that matched her own. She drew strength from the memory of their love, their shared passion and commitment.

“Baelon,” she whispered to the shadows, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I never meant for this to happen. I don’t know how to set you free.”

The night stretched on, filled with the shadows of her past and the uncertainties of her future. Vaella Targaryen lay in her chamber, confined but not defeated. She drew on the strength of her love for Aegon, her children, and her unyielding spirit. She would find a way through this darkness, for herself and for those she loved.

…

Rhaenyra Targaryen stood on the balcony of Maegor’s Holdfast, looking out over King’s Landing. The city was a powder keg of unrest, the flames of rebellion constantly threatening to ignite. Despite her efforts to calm the populace, the people’s loyalty to King Aegon II and Queen Vaella ran deep. The banners of her half-brother fluttered defiantly in the winds, and her own rule felt increasingly precarious.

Inside the council chamber, the mood was tense. Rhaenyra’s advisors were assembled around the large, intricately carved table, their faces lined with worry and fatigue. She took her place at the head of the table, her expression a mask of determination despite the turmoil within her.

“My Queen,” began Lord Corlys Velaryon, his voice steady but grave. “We must address the growing unrest in the city. The people’s loyalty to Aegon and Vaella is stronger than we anticipated. If we do not quell these uprisings, we may face an outright revolt.”

Rhaenyra nodded, her gaze hardening. “We will double the patrols and enforce stricter curfews. The people must understand that their defiance will not be tolerated. But we must also address their concerns. We need more food, more resources. Starving subjects are rebellious subjects.”

As the council discussed various strategies to stabilize King’s Landing, Rhaenyra’s thoughts drifted to her son Viserys, held captive by her enemies. The knowledge that his life hung in the balance was a constant, gnawing fear. Aegon had made it clear: he wished to exchange Viserys for Vaella and Alicent.

“Your Grace,” said Daemon, breaking her reverie. His intense gaze met hers. “We must also consider the military front. Aemond and Cole remain a significant threat at Harrenhal, and Helaena in the Vale poses a strategic challenge with her dragon Dreamfyre and her forces.”

Rhaenyra sighed, the weight of the multiple fronts pressing down on her. “You’re right. We cannot ignore them. We must plan our next move carefully.”

Lord Corlys leaned forward. “The Stormlands and the Reach have begun amassing their forces to support Aemond and Aegon. Large parts of the Riverlands are also shifting their loyalties. If we do not act decisively, we could find ourselves surrounded.”

“And the North?” Rhaenyra asked, though she already knew the answer.

“They refuse to march until winter has passed,” Daemon replied, frustration evident in his voice. “We cannot rely on their support anytime soon.”

Rhaenyra’s mind raced, weighing the options. “We need to divide their forces. Aegon is at Dragonstone. If we can draw Aemond and Cole out of Harrenhal, we might weaken their position. At the same time, we must be prepared to deal with Helaena in the Vale.”

Daemon nodded. “A diversion might work, but we need to ensure it’s strong enough to pull Aemond’s forces away from Harrenhal.”

“Send ravens to our allies in the Reach and the Westerlands,” Rhaenyra ordered. “We need every available soldier. We must also increase our dragon patrols. Let the people see our strength.”

As the council dispersed to carry out their tasks, Rhaenyra remained seated, staring at the map of Westeros spread out before her. The stakes were higher than ever, and the lives of her family and the fate of the realm hung in the balance.

Daemon lingered, sensing her turmoil. “Rhaenyra,” he said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We will get Viserys back. We will find a way to end this.”

Rhaenyra looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and sorrow. “I know, Daemon. But every day that passes with him in their hands is torture. And if anything happens to him…”

“We will not let that happen,” Daemon said firmly. “We will bring him home.”

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, drawing strength from Daemon’s resolve. “We must be smarter, stronger. We cannot afford to make any mistakes.”

As the fires of rebellion flickered throughout King’s Landing, Rhaenyra Targaryen steeled herself for the battles to come. 

…

Aegon II Targaryen flew upon Sunfyre every day since taking over Dragonstone. The golden dragon, despite his injuries, regained some of his former strength as he soared over the island, his radiant scales glinting in the sunlight. Larys Strong tirelessly sought supporters to aid Aegon in his quest to reclaim Dragonstone from Rhaenyra, his whispering campaigns weaving through the courts of Westeros like an intricate web.

Ser Alfred Broome had been invaluable in rallying support for Aegon's cause. The loyalty of key houses and soldiers had been secured, bolstering the greens’ presence on the island. However, Lady Baela Targaryen had evaded capture for weeks. Her resilience and cunning had become a thorn in Aegon’s side, but finally, she reached her green dragon, Moondancer.

On a fateful day, as Aegon victoriously flew a still-injured Sunfyre back to the castle, Moondancer rose to meet them. The younger, smaller dragon moved with astonishing speed, raking Sunfyre's side and attacking his malformed wing. Sunfyre responded with a blinding blast of golden flames, searing Moondancer’s eyes. The colliding dragons crashed into the ground, their roars echoing through the skies.

In the fierce struggle, Sunfyre, despite his injuries, overpowered and killed his younger adversary. Aegon, thrown from his saddle in the tumultuous descent, broke both of his legs as he hit the ground. His agonized screams filled the air as his men rushed to his side.

"Get me inside!" Aegon commanded through gritted teeth, his voice filled with pain and fury. "Hurry, damn you!"

The soldiers, pale with fear and urgency, carried their wounded king into the castle. Aegon’s face was contorted in agony, every jolt sending fresh waves of pain through his shattered legs. As they entered the dim corridors of the fortress, Aegon’s cries for his wife rang out.

"Vaella! Vaella!" he called, desperation thick in his voice. Past and present blurred. "Where is she? Why is she not here?"

Ser Alfred Broome stepped forward, his expression grave as he worries for Aegon’s state of mind. "Your Grace, the queen is still held captive by Rhaenyra in the Red Keep. We will bring her back. I swear it."

Aegon’s eyes, wild with pain and despair, locked onto Broome’s. "She needs me… I need her.."

"We will not let it end this way," Ser Alfred vowed. "We will find a way to free her."

Meanwhile, Sunfyre, gravely wounded from the battle, lay in the outer yard where he had fallen. His once-majestic form was now marred by fresh scars along his back, huge wounds on his neck, and scabs on his belly. The dragon had lost his right eye in the fray, rendering him unable to fly. He remained grounded, feeding on the carcass of Moondancer, a grim testament to the cost of their victory.

Inside the castle, Aegon was carried to his chambers. Maester Gerardys was summoned, his face pale as he examined the king's injuries. "Your Grace, you must rest. Your legs are badly broken. It will take time for them to heal."

Aegon grimaced, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. "Time… Time is something we do not have, Maester. My wife, my children…"

Gerardys placed a reassuring hand on Aegon’s shoulder. "We will do everything in our power to hasten your recovery, Your Grace. You must stay strong for them."

As the maester worked to set his legs, Aegon’s thoughts drifted to Vaella. The image of her, alone and captive in the Red Keep, tormented him. He could almost hear her voice, feel her presence beside him, her strength and courage giving him the resolve he needed.

…

Vaella Targaryen stood on a high balcony of the Red Keep, her indigo eyes fixed on the horizon. The city of King's Landing stretched below her, a chaotic tapestry of unrest and rebellion. Her heart ached with longing and fear as she watched Daemon Targaryen mount his dragon, Caraxes. With a mighty roar, the blood-red dragon took to the sky, heading towards Harrenhal for a personal clash with Aemond.

As Caraxes disappeared into the distance, Vaella turned her gaze towards the Dragonpit. There, Cannibal, her wild and fierce dragon, was slowly regaining his strength from the injuries inflicted by Vermithor. His dark form was a stark contrast to the other dragons kept there. By Rhaenyra’s orders, all dragons were tightly chained, including those of Helaena’s twins and Vaella’s children. Syrax, Rhaenyra’s own dragon, and the dragon of her son Joffrey were also among them.

The sight of the chained dragons filled Vaella with a deep sense of sorrow and frustration. The majestic creatures, symbols of Targaryen power, were now prisoners, much like herself. She could feel Cannibal's restlessness, his fierce spirit chafing against the constraints.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. A guard appeared, his expression stoic. "Lady Vaella, you are summoned to the throne room by order of Queen Rhaenyra."

Vaella’s heart sank. She knew this was not a request but a command. With a resigned nod, she followed the guard through the winding corridors of the Red Keep. The path felt endlessly familiar, yet it was filled with the dread of her uncertain fate.

As they neared the throne room, the sounds of whispered conversations and the heavy echo of boots on stone grew louder. The guard stopped before the massive doors, pushing them open to reveal the grand chamber. Rhaenyra sat upon the Iron Throne, her expression one of cold determination. Next to her, Alicent Hightower stood, her presence a silent pillar of support.

The guard led Vaella forward, and she felt the weight of the room’s gaze upon her. Her heart pounded as she was brought to stand below the throne, her position more that of a prisoner than a princess.

Alicent was the first to speak, her voice calm but edged with tension. "Rhaenyra, this conflict must end. You must dismantle your campaign and leave your sons, daughter, and grandchildren alive. In exchange, you can continue to rule lands of your own, while Aegon is entitled to his."

Rhaenyra's eyes narrowed as she interrupted, her voice icy. "I will not do it, Alicent. My sons died under orders made by your blood."

Alicent's face hardened, her voice turning cold. "That was just bastards' blood spilled in war."

Rhaenyra bristled at the remark, her fury evident. "Enough!" she shouted, gesturing to the guards. "Take her back to her chambers!"

The guards seized Alicent, dragging her away as she maintained her cold composure. Vaella watched, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and defiance.

Vaella spoke up, her voice trembling but firm. "You called my infant son a consequence of war, Rhaenyra. Perhaps your own sons are that too. This is your fault."

Rhaenyra's eyes blazed with anger as she descended from the throne. In a swift, furious motion, she slapped Vaella across the face. The force of the blow sent Vaella reeling, her cheek stinging with pain.

"How dare you!" Rhaenyra hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "You know nothing of what I have lost."

Vaella held her ground, meeting her sister's gaze with unwavering resolve. "And you know nothing of what you have taken from me. From all of us."

The throne room fell into a tense silence, the weight of their words hanging heavily in the air. Rhaenyra’s expression softened for a moment, but the resolve in her eyes remained.

"We are all victims of this war, Vaella," Rhaenyra said quietly, her voice tinged with sorrow. "But I will not back down. Not now."

Vaella’s heart ached with the weight of their shared pain. "Then you will only breed more hatred and more loss."

Rhaenyra turned away, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Guard," she called, her voice tired. "Escort my sister back to her chambers."

As Vaella was led away, she glanced back at Rhaenyra, her heart heavy with the knowledge that their family was being torn apart by their own hands. Alicent’s silent support and her own resolve were all she had to hold onto now. 

…

Aegon II Targaryen lay bedridden in his chambers on Dragonstone, his legs broken and pain searing through his body like wildfire. His refusal to take milk of the poppy, despite the maesters' pleas, was a testament to his iron will. He remembered all too well the foggy haze and addiction that came with it during his recovery from Rook's Rest. Yet, the agony was almost unbearable, each movement sending waves of torment through his shattered limbs.

Most days, his anguished cries echoed through the stone halls. "Vaella! Bring me my wife! Vaella!" His voice, raw with desperation, rang out over and over, driving fear into the hearts of the servants who tended to him. They tried to console him, to remind him gently that she was not there, but his rage and despair would only intensify.

"She is not here, Your Grace," a servant would repeat for the hundredth time, her voice trembling.

"Find her! Bring her to me now!" Aegon would scream, his eyes wild with pain and longing.

The servants would retreat, helpless in the face of his suffering. They whispered among themselves, worried for his state of mind, but there was little they could do.

In an effort to calm him, his children, Baelor and Daena, were often brought to his bedside. Their innocent presence was a balm to his tormented soul, though the sight of them also deepened his sorrow.

"Father," Baelor said softly one afternoon, his small hand clutching Aegon's larger one. "When will Mother come back?"

Aegon’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at his son. "Soon, my boy. Soon," he lied, his voice breaking. "We must be strong for her."

Daena, sitting quietly at the foot of the bed, looked up at her father with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Will she really come back, Father? And what about baby Baelon?"

Aegon forced a smile, though his heart was heavy with doubt. "Yes, Daena. She will come back, and we will all be together again. And Baelon… he is a fighter, just like you."

While Baelor and Daena were allowed to see their father often, tiny Baelon was kept under strict watch by Maester Gerardys. The maester had little hope that the infant would survive, but every day the child clung to life was a small miracle.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow through the windows, Maester Gerardys entered Aegon's chamber, carrying the fragile Baelon in his arms.

"Your Grace," Gerardys said softly, "I thought you might wish to see your son."

Aegon’s eyes lit up with a mixture of hope and sorrow. "Yes, bring him here."

The maester carefully placed Baelon in Aegon’s arms, the baby’s tiny form barely moving. Aegon looked down at his son, his heart swelling with love and pain.

"Look at him, Gerardys," Aegon whispered. "So small, yet so strong."

The maester nodded, his expression somber. "He is a Targaryen, Your Grace. They are born of fire and blood."

Aegon held Baelon close, his mind filled with thoughts of Vaella. "I need her, Gerardys. I need her strength."

Gerardys placed a reassuring hand on Aegon's shoulder. "We are doing all we can to bring her back, Your Grace. You must hold on."

Aegon nodded, though the weight of his suffering threatened to crush him. "I will. For them."

As night fell, Baelon was taken away by the maester, and Aegon was left alone with his thoughts. The pain in his legs was relentless, but the ache in his heart was far worse. He closed his eyes, picturing Vaella’s face, drawing strength from her memory.

"Vaella," he whispered into the darkness, "I will endure this. For you, for our children. I will not let this break me."

In the silence of his chamber, with only the distant sounds of the sea as a lullaby, Aegon clung to his resolve.

…

King’s Landing was a city on the edge. The longer Rhaenyra Targaryen remained in power, the more tensions with the local populace rose. The once bustling markets now stood empty, the cheerful chatter of the streets replaced by murmurs of discontent and curses against the Queen. Provisions had been cut off to sustain her war effort, leaving the smallfolk to fend for themselves without the food, medicine, and coin that Vaella and Aegon had once provided.

The streets were filled with gaunt faces and hollow eyes, the signs of starvation and illness spreading like a plague. Whispers of rebellion grew louder each day, and the air was thick with the stench of desperation and anger.

Rhaenyra sat in the throne room, her brow furrowed as she read the latest reports. The news was grim: civil unrest was looming large, threatening to erupt into full-scale riots. The doors creaked open, and a messenger entered, his face pale with fear.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing deeply. "The city grows restless. The people are demanding food and relief."

Rhaenyra’s eyes hardened. "I cannot afford to divert resources from the war effort. They must understand the sacrifices necessary for our victory."

The messenger hesitated, then spoke in a trembling voice. "But, Your Grace, they curse your name in the streets. They say they lived better under Aegon and Vaella."

Rhaenyra’s fist clenched. "Let them curse. They do not understand the weight of the crown or the cost of war."

The throne room fell silent, the tension palpable. Rhaenyra’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a raven. She took the letter from the bird, her eyes scanning the words. Her face blanched as she read the message: Daemon had fallen at Harrenhal. Both he and Aemond had perished with their dragons.

The parchment slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the floor. The loss of Daemon was a blow that shook her to her core. His death, along with that of Aemond, left a gaping void in her support. Her rule, already unstable, now teetered on the brink of collapse.

As the news spread through the castle, the whispers grew louder. Lords and ladies exchanged worried glances, and the smallfolk, upon hearing of Daemon’s death, became even more emboldened in their dissent.

Rhaenyra sat in her chambers, staring at the flickering flames of the hearth. Alicent Hightower entered, her expression a mix of satisfaction and concern.

"Rhaenyra," Alicent began, her voice cold. "Your grip on the city is slipping. The people are starving, and now, with Daemon gone, your support is crumbling."

Rhaenyra looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of grief and defiance. "I will not abandon my claim. I will not let his death be in vain."

Alicent’s gaze hardened. "And what of the people? Will you let them starve for the sake of your throne?"

Rhaenyra’s voice was edged with desperation. "I have no choice. The war requires sacrifices."

"Sacrifices?" Alicent's voice was icy. "Those are not sacrifices, Rhaenyra. They are lives."

Before Rhaenyra could respond, the doors burst open and a guard rushed in. "Your Grace, there are riots in Flea Bottom. The smallfolk are demanding food and threatening to storm the Red Keep."

Rhaenyra stood, her resolve firm. "Double the guards. Ensure the gates are secure. We cannot let them breach the castle."

The guard nodded and hurried out. Rhaenyra turned back to Alicent, her expression one of determination. "I will not be swayed, Alicent. This throne is mine by right."

Alicent shook her head, a look of pity in her eyes. "You are losing your grip, Rhaenyra. The more you tighten your hold, the more it slips away."

As the night fell, the sounds of unrest grew louder outside the castle walls. In the midst of the chaos, a new blow came to Rhaenyra's rule. Ravens brought word of Nettles and Sheepstealer, who had joined Daemon in hunting Aemond and Vhagar. They remained at Maidenpool, after Daemon’s fall.

When Rhaenyra named Nettles a traitor, the young rider fled. She left Maidenpool with Sheepstealer early in the morning, feeding the dragon the largest black ram present at the castle. The dragon and its rider were last seen flying over the Bay of Crabs, disappearing into the horizon.

In the throne room, Rhaenyra struggled to maintain control. She knew that without the support of her dragonriders, her claim was weakening by the day. The loss of Nettles, combined with the death of Daemon, left her vulnerable.

…

The Red Keep was steeped in a somber silence, a heavy pall hanging over its ancient halls. The once vibrant and bustling fortress had become a place of mourning and whispers. Queen Alicent Hightower, already burdened by the loss of her son Aemond, was struck with another wave of grief. News arrived of her son Daeron's death during the Battle of Tumbleton. His dragon, Tessarion, had also fallen in the fierce conflict. 

Alicent sat in her chambers, her heart shattered by the loss of another child. She felt the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her, a relentless tide that threatened to drown her spirit. The only faint glimmer of consolation was the knowledge that Rhaenyra had also suffered losses: the Dragonseeds Ulf White and Addam Velaryon, along with Seasmoke. Silverwing, the dragon of the late Queen Alysanne, had been seen flying towards a small island in the Red Lake after feasting on the remains of the fallen.

The door to her chamber creaked open, and a trusted servant slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him. He approached Alicent with a message, his eyes filled with a mixture of loyalty and concern.

"Your Grace," he whispered, bowing low. "I have a message for you, from Lady Vaella."

Alicent's heart quickened. Despite their dire circumstances, Vaella had managed to smuggle messages back and forth, providing a lifeline of hope and support. She took the note from the servant, her hands trembling slightly as she unfolded it.

The message was brief but filled with determination:

*Alicent,**

**I grieve with you for the loss of Aemond and Daeron. This war has taken so much from us, but we must remain strong. I am doing all I can from within these walls. We will find a way to end this and reunite our family. Stay strong for me, for Aegon, and for our children.**

**Vaella**

Alicent closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she clutched the note to her chest. The loss of her sons was a wound that would never heal, but Vaella's words provided a flicker of hope amidst the darkness.

"Thank you," she said softly to the servant. "Your loyalty and bravery are deeply appreciated."

The servant bowed again. "I will continue to serve you, Your Grace. Whatever you need, I will do my best to provide."

Alicent nodded, her resolve strengthening. "We must keep this communication open. Vaella needs to know she is not alone. And neither are we."

As the servant left, Alicent penned a response to Vaella, her words filled with the same determination and love that her daughter-in-law had shown:

**My dear Vaella,**

**Your words are a balm to my wounded heart. We have lost so much, but you are right. We must remain strong and united. I am here for you, as you are for me. We will endure this together, and we will find a way to bring an end to this madness. Stay safe, my beloved daughter.**

**With all my love,**

**Alicent**

She handed the note to the servant, who took it with a nod and slipped away to deliver it to Vaella. As she waited, Alicent's thoughts turned to the future. The path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but the bonds of family and love would guide them through.

Meanwhile, in her chambers, Vaella read Alicent's response with a mixture of relief and sorrow. The war had taken so much from them, but the messages they exchanged were a reminder that they were not alone in their suffering. She clung to the hope that they would find a way to end this conflict and reunite their family.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over King's Landing, Vaella managed to steal a few moments of peace. She sat by the window, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon, thinking of Aegon and their children.

A soft knock at the door drew her attention, and a servant entered, bowing respectfully. "Princess Vaella, a message from the Dowager Queen."

Vaella took the note, her heart pounding as she read Alicent's words. Tears filled her eyes, but they were tears of hope and determination. She knew that, despite the losses and the pain, they would find a way to survive and prevail.

As night fell over King's Landing, the city simmered with tension and unrest. The smallfolk's discontent was a constant reminder of the cost of this war. But within the walls of the Red Keep, a flicker of hope remained. Alicent and Vaella's secret communication was a lifeline that kept them both grounded and resolute.

…

Vaella Targaryen sat in the dimly lit confines of her chambers, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the stone walls. The air was thick with tension, her heart pounding with the weight of the plan she was about to set into motion. She was not alone; several men, still loyal to Aegon and herself, huddled around her. Some of these men had recently turned away from Rhaenyra, sensing her impending fall and placing their bets on the queen who could restore balance. Among them were spies placed by Larys Strong, whose loyalty was now a crucial part of their plan.

"Vaella," whispered Ser William Storm, a basted son of a Lord from the Stormlands and one of her most trusted allies, "the time is ripe. Rhaenyra's rule is crumbling. The people are starving, and the unrest is growing by the day."

Vaella nodded, her indigo eyes filled with determination. "We cannot wait any longer. We must move tonight. The dragons are our only chance."

A murmur of agreement swept through the group. Ser William leaned forward, his voice low but urgent. "We've secured a route through the town to the Dragonpit. The guards there are few and poorly motivated. We can overpower them and unchain the dragons."

Vaella took a deep breath, her mind racing with the gravity of what they were about to do. "What of my children’s dragons and those of Helaena's twins? They must be freed as well."

Ser William nodded. "We have men stationed at their chains. Once we secure the Dragonpit, they will be released."

Vaella’s gaze hardened. "And Cannibal?"

"He is ready," Ser William replied. "Recovered and eager to fly."

Vaella stood, her heart pounding. "Then let us proceed. We must be swift and silent."

Under the cover of night, Vaella donned a simple cloak, the hood pulled low over her face. Her loyalists, similarly disguised, escorted her through the labyrinthine passages of the Red Keep. They moved quickly, their footsteps barely a whisper on the stone floors.

As they gathered in Vaella’s chambers for the final briefing, the air was thick with anticipation and fear. Larys Strong’s spies had been instrumental in gathering the necessary intelligence and ensuring that their plan had a chance of success.

"Larys’s spies report that the guards at the Dragonpit change shifts at midnight," Ser William explained, pointing to a crude map of the Red Keep and its surroundings. "That will be our window to strike."

Vaella nodded, her mind racing with the details of their plan. "What of the passageways? Are they clear?"

Ser William glanced at one of Larys’s spies, a wiry man named Roderick. "Roderick?"

Roderick nodded. "The passageways are clear, Your Grace. We've ensured that the patrols will be diverted at the crucial moment."

Vaella turned to the rest of the group. "Remember, our primary objective is to unchain the dragons. Once they are free, we can make our escape. Any distractions or delays could cost us dearly."

The men nodded, their expressions grim but determined. Vaella felt a surge of gratitude for their loyalty and bravery. They were risking everything to see her and her family safe.

As the night deepened, the group moved into position. Vaella’s heart pounded with each step, the weight of their mission pressing down on her. She clutched the hilt of a dagger hidden beneath her cloak, ready to defend herself if necessary.

They navigated the darkened corridors of the Red Keep, their movements silent and purposeful. At each corner, Roderick signaled the all-clear, his keen eyes and ears alert for any sign of danger.

Finally, they reached a hidden door that led to a narrow passageway. Ser William turned to Vaella, his expression serious. "This passage will take us out of the Red Keep and into the city. From there, it’s a short distance to the hill where the Dragonpit stands."

Vaella nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. "Let’s go."

As they slipped into the passageway, the sound of their footsteps echoed faintly off the stone walls. The air grew cooler as they descended, the weight of the earth pressing in around them. Vaella’s mind was focused on the task ahead, her thoughts racing with the details of their plan.

Emerging from the passageway, they found themselves in a dark alleyway at the edge of the Red Keep. The city of King’s Landing sprawled before them, the streets eerily quiet under the cover of night. They moved quickly, keeping to the shadows as they made their way through the winding streets.

The tension was palpable, each step fraught with the risk of discovery. Vaella’s heart pounded as they neared the hill where the Dragonpit stood. The massive structure loomed in the distance, a silent sentinel against the night sky.

Suddenly, the group halted as Roderick raised his hand, signaling for silence. The faint sound of voices reached their ears, growing louder with each passing moment. They pressed themselves against the walls of a narrow alley, holding their breath as a patrol of guards passed by.

The guards paused, their torches casting flickering shadows on the walls. "Did you hear something?" one of the guards asked, his tone suspicious.

The other guard shook his head. "Probably just the wind. But keep your eyes open. The Queen doesn’t want any surprises tonight."

Vaella’s heart raced as the guards moved past, their footsteps fading into the distance. She let out a slow breath, her mind racing with the realization of how close they had come to being discovered.

Ser William signaled for them to move again, and they continued their cautious journey through the city. Every sound seemed amplified in the silence, every shadow a potential threat.

As they neared the base of the hill, Vaella felt a surge of hope. They were so close to the Dragonpit, their objective almost within reach. But as they turned a corner, they were met with an unexpected sight: a group of armed men, clearly loyal to Rhaenyra, blocking their path.

The leader of the group stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he took in Vaella and her companions. "Going somewhere, Princess?" he sneered.

Vaella’s hand tightened around the hilt of her dagger. "We mean no harm. Let us pass."

The man laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "I don’t think so. The Queen has ordered that no one is to leave the Red Keep without her permission."

Ser William stepped forward, his voice cold and steady. "Stand aside. We have no quarrel with you."

The man’s expression darkened. "You do now."

The alley erupted into chaos as the two groups clashed. Vaella fought with all her strength, her dagger flashing in the dim light. The sounds of steel clashing and men shouting filled the air, the battle fierce and desperate.

Despite their determination, Vaella’s group was outnumbered. One by one, her loyalists were overwhelmed, their bodies falling to the cobblestones. Vaella’s heart pounded with fear and rage as she struggled to fend off her attackers.

Just as it seemed they were doomed, a sudden shout rang out. A group of cloaked figures emerged from the shadows, joining the fray with lethal precision. Larys Strong’s spies, their timing impeccable, had arrived to turn the tide.

The fight was brutal and swift. Within moments, the attackers were either dead or fleeing into the night. Vaella, breathless and bloodied, looked around at the fallen men, her heart heavy with the cost of their mission.

Ser William approached her, his expression grim. "We must move quickly, Your Grace. The Dragonpit is within reach."

Vaella nodded, her determination undimmed despite the setback. "Let’s go. We have no time to waste."

With renewed urgency, they continued their journey, the hill of the Dragonpit rising before them. The path was fraught with danger, but Vaella knew they had come too far to turn back now. The fate of her family and their legacy depended on the success of their mission.

As they neared the entrance to the Dragonpit, Vaella’s heart swelled with hope. They were almost there, their objective within sight. But as they prepared to make their final approach, the sounds of the city in turmoil reached their ears, a reminder of the unrest that still threatened to unravel their plans.

With a deep breath, Vaella steeled herself for the final push. Disguised and determined, she knew that the next moments would be critical. But to their relief, the Dragonkeepers offered no resistance. The sight of Queen Vaella, beloved by many, was enough to quell any objections they might have had.

"Your Grace," one of the Dragonkeepers said, bowing deeply. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"We are here to free the dragons," Vaella replied, her voice steady and commanding. "Stand aside."

The Dragonkeepers nodded, stepping back to allow Vaella and her men to pass. The massive doors of the Dragonpit creaked open, and Vaella stepped inside, the air thick with the smell of sulfur and smoke. The flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows on the walls, illuminating the forms of the great beasts within.

[inneedofsupervision]

I didn't ask, did I? (Chapter 7)

Happy begrudgingly steps aside and walks after Tony into the diner. The billionaire skillfully ignores the gasps of surprise and the poor attempt to take pictures of him secretly as he strides straight up to the counter. "Two cheeseburgers and a large fry. To go." "Please get in line and wait for your turn, Sir." "Excuse me?" Tony slowly pulls his sunglasses down and glances at the skinny teen behind the register. "Bad hearing comes with age, huh?" mutters the teen under his breath. Happy makes a choking sound behind him. ___________________ Or, how Tony Stark gets sassed by some high schooler working part-time and makes it his mission to figure out what he did to make this kid he'd never seen hate him. If that means annoying the hell out of said high schooler, that's not his problem.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10

Chapter Summary: Rhodey and Tony finally leave, and Peter is left alone with his thoughts.

(Read on Ao3)

Peter's forehead leans against the door. Only after the engine of Mr. Stark's car howled and the tires started to roll did the teen dare push his fingers between the blinds and pull them aside to peek out of the window.

They are finally gone.

With a deep sigh, Peter raises a hand, ready to run it through his hair, only to stop when he realizes that it's still covered in paint.

If Aunt May knew about what he did, he would get sentenced to a week's worth of house chores. Including a deep clean of the bathroom.

"Not my most glorious moment."

After several minutes, with the help of half a bottle of dish liquid, an old sponge, and lots of hot water, Peters's hands were reddened but free of paint and smelled, according to the dishwashing label, of gentle citrus dreams, whatever that meant.

While drying his hand, the teen couldn't help thinking about his act of revenge. It was petty.

Peter feels ashamed to use his abilities for something so childish and silly. He is Spider-Man. He should be the one keeping people from vandalizing, and what did he do? Smearing one of the most important buildings in NYC, just because he let Mr. Stark provoke him.

"If I simply hadn't said anything. Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?"

The guilty conscience grew while he worked on a persistent sauce stain on one of the tables with his rag.

Mr. Stark mentioned his action costing Stark Industries millions. At the same time, Peter felt like the man didn't care about the money but rather about his image, and the flippancy with which the man talked about losing money sparks Peter's anger anew.

It's already dark outside by the time the teenager closes the shop. With his hoodie deep in his face and his head ducked, he quickly walks down the street. May won't be back until tomorrow morning, and if he hurried, he might manage to patrol for two hours before going to bed.

On his way through the city, he walks past a construction site. He halts, and his eyes wander along the scaffold that takes up the whole facade.

"A truck hit the front at full speed a few weeks ago."

Peter turns away from the destroyed building. A man leans against one of the street lights. He has his, several times patched coat tightly wrapped around his body, a bottle sitting comfortably in his hand. He tosses his head, taking a hearty sip before pointing at the building.

"One of the best shelters in the whole of New York. Never mind how busy you got treated like you meant something. They even let your furred friend in there if you had one. Now, we can only hope they rebuild it. To our luck, they put another cafe here."

"I heard about the incident," manages Peter to get out, voice hoarse.

"You're okay, boy?"

The homeless man squints his eyes at him, and something in Peter's stomach coils as the guilty conscience hits full force at the thought of a man without a roof over his head worrying about a random teenager.

A man who didn't have a roof over his head because Spider-Man hadn't been here.

"Yes, I mean, not really," stammers Peter before taking a deep breath, attempting to collect himself. The man eyes him with worry, partly curiosity, and takes another sip while waiting for the teen to finish his sentence.

"It's just that I knew someone. Someone who came here often."

Peter feels ashamed when he catches the man's eyes widening with realization. The man shortened the distance between them, stepping closer, and despite the strong sense of alcohol prickling in his nose, he knew he wasn't in any danger. A heavy hand lays on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about that, boy."

It's embarrassing how his eyes start burning. Peter had to look away from the empathy-filled, bearded face.

"I don't know who you knew from the bunch, but I know many people hanging around here, and most are decent. I'm sure whoever it was, he would appreciate a fine young man like you to remember him. Many people in this city don't recognize us as humans, but you are alright, boy."

The hand on his shoulder gives another tight but comforting squeeze while Peter uses the back of his hand to wipe over his eyes. He manages to whisper a small thank you.

The man didn't look happy with a crying teenager in front of him.

"You want some?"

Peter eyes the bottle with a high percentage of alcohol before his eyes fall back onto the worried eyes of the man. A small smile blooms on his face, and he has to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. He sniffles and wipes at his other eye.

"No, thank you. But there's something else."

The man pulls the bottle back with a grin.

"I'm listening, boy. Spit it out."

Peter manages to give him a grateful smile.

"Would you tell me your name?"

The homeless man raises an eyebrow in disbelief before grinning.

"The name's Jason."

Jason holds out his hand. Without batting a lid, Peter takes the hand, including the filthy fingerless glove, shaking it tightly.

"I'm Peter."