#i am the local angst dealer

[lokisgoodgirl]

Home Truths: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (4) Loki is given a shake, and the four of you hit up the local supermarket. Warnings: Minors DNI. Ex-Loki. Major Satchelage. Humour. Brotherly/ Domestic fluff. Smut references. Mild angst. Pining. (w/c 4.5k) Recommended Folklore Track: Hoax

The rain hadn’t stopped. You’d spent the next few hours limping between rooms, keeping busy, stealing glances out the droplet-streaked windows where you could.

Where was he?

The kiss had lingered on your lips. The taste of Loki absorbing into cracks of delicate skin like water in thirsty soil. Nobody knew where the god had disappeared to in the early hours, allegedly.

What's more, they didn't seem surprised.

It had been another two hours before Loki returned holding a string of thoroughly deceased rabbits.

He stalked through the front door, turning abruptly into the kitchen and lowering them to the dining table with a macabre series of thumps.

“Holy Moses-” Steve scoffed disapprovingly, folding his arms.

The kettle began to whistle on the stove as Loki paraded to the cupboard. He pulled out a mug sporting a large yellow bear with an eyepatch.

“I saw no reason why our ‘education’ need be stifled by a mild weather-tantrum” he drawled, gesturing to the window before plucking a teabag from the tin. He glanced back to you as you leant against the kitchen doorframe. His eyes narrowed. There was no hint there of what had passed between you only hours before. It made you sad. But not surprised. “Don’t you agree, Agent?” he purred. Thor emerged by your shoulder.

“What the-?” his eyes fell on the limp pile of fur adorning the plastic tablecloth; gasping sharply. “Hodorekorn, brother?” His excitement was electric. Loki shook his head. “Alas, no brother. Rabbits. But much the same to ensnare.” The god tilted his head as he poured from the kettle, throwing Steve a wink. “See, Rogers?” he smirked. “I am not completely useless.”

Thor’s arm stretched above your head, pressing his hand against the frame. “It took you four hours to capture five hodorekorn?” He chuckled wrly. “Rusty indeed, brother.” “Rabbits.” Loki corrected, stirring his tea.

Steve swallowed, eyeing the bundle. “What are we supposed to do with ‘em?” he said, regretting the words as soon as they were spoken. “Skin them, and cook them of course!” Thor’s boom filled the tiny kitchen.

Steve gagged.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread. Loki’s eyes met yours, giving the smallest nod. “Yeah, we can do that” you said, “good thinking Thor. Steve? How about you take the first one? Dealer’s choice.”

Steve clapped a hand to his mouth, pushing Thor into you in a hasty sprint to the bathroom. Dry wretches followed as the three remaining Avengers descended into laughter.

Tears streamed down Thor’s face while you doubled over, clinging to his forearm. Even Loki’s demure overtures of mirth rumbled across the linoleum, although you were certain that it was the sight of you and his brother that was the cause rather than the captain’s overdramatic heaves. Just like the old days, you thought with a pang. Thor wiped his face, catching his breath while there was a pause in the theatrics from the bathroom. For a moment, silence. And then... ‘Heuuuuuurgh-’

You and Thor looked at each other with simultaneous disbelief, the following whoop of laughter utterly uncontrollable. Loki took a sip of tea before placing it down, walking silently to the table. He tilted the chin of a rabbit towards him, frowning.

“We really should skin these brother,” he said sharply, “they will lose succulence otherwise.” You looked up through misty eyes, the release making you forget everything else. Loki had bristled, his mood altered somehow. Thor caught his breath beside you, panting heavily. “I- I can show you how,” you gasped as you wiped a trail from your eyes. Loki waved a dismissive hand. “No need. My brother and I are not quite as incapable as Rogers would have you believe.” Thor’s brow furrowed, shaking his head lightly in your direction. Don’t mind him, it said. “Outside or inside?” you asked, reaching for your jacket on the hall hook. It was still wet. “Outside,” Loki said with finality. His eyes flew to your hand, resting on the anorak. “Your presence is not required, Agent. My brother and I are perfectly capable, as I said.” He shot a piercing glance to Thor. The blonde swallowed.

“Uhhh...yes. Indeed, yes – brother, lead the way.” Loki breezed between you, stooping gently at the door-frame as a slick waxed Barbour unfurled over his lithe body. It hung to his thighs, the taut curve of his muscled ass shifting. The ghost of his knuckles grazed your palm as he passed. Accidentally, you were sure.

Thor lingered by the coat-hooks, shoving an arm brutishly through the sleeve of a particularly beaten-looking yellow raincoat. The material creaked menacingly as he hoisted it up his biceps.

There’s no way that is zipping closing, you thought – half watching the outline of Loki pacing towards the small hut at the edge of the cottage boundary.

Thor threw a look over his shoulder, checking Loki was out of earshot. He tugged the sides of the raincoat down. The edges lined perfectly with his nipples. Rain fell vertically outside the open door, a gush from the awning gutter pooling around the doorstep.

“He probably wishes to recount his version of what happened last night,” Thor said in hushed tones. Hushed for him, anyway. “What do you-” Thor waved a hand, eyes closed to your protestation. “Sister, please – the neighbours over yonder valley likely heard the commotion my brother’s intransigence provoked. Rogers and I heard everything.” The strap of your backpack hanging on the rack suddenly became very interesting.

“I’m not your sister, not anymore. Never was – technically” you heard yourself say, avoiding his inquiring eyes.

Pursing your lips, you scratched a nail down the strap’s weave. Thor squeaked as he shuffled closer, constrained arms wrapping around your shoulders with difficulty.

Breath heaved from your lungs as he pulled you tight. “You’ll always be my sister, sister” he smiled, resting his chin on your hair.

“If these last decades taught me anything, it is that blood relation is the least important quality.” He placed a kiss on top of your head. “Now, I must depart, and entertain my brother’s lukewarm justification for his boorishness.”

He turned, throwing a ridiculous pointed yellow hood up with a flourish.

“And skin some rabbits, of course” he projected loudly, throwing you a calculated wink. From behind the bathroom door, Steve wretched again.

Loki flung the rabbits on the small bench squeezed in the corner of the hut. A ragged door hung from its hinges. If he wasn’t sure it would disintegrate, he would have slammed it. He didn’t know what to think.

Growth, he surmised, was becoming more trouble than it was worth.

He pushed his hair back from his face, the wet slick that met his hand more familiar now than he would like.

“That was rude, Loki” Thor rumbled, shaking himself like a dog in the doorway. “Hardly,” Loki snapped, casting a disparaging look in the speaker’s direction. He felt a snarl curl at the corners of his mouth at the sight of his brother spilling from the tiny yellow raincoat. “And you look ridiculous.” Loki sat abruptly on the bench, turning his attention to the rabbits. He divided them out. Three for himself, two for Thor. His brother was slower. Always had been. “It was rude,” Thor repeated, squeezing himself to the bench on the other side of the sad bundle. Loki slid a small hunting knife over in silence. Hadn’t used them in years, he realised.

Not years, Loki thought. Centuries.

Perhaps more. The shuffle of fur coming skilfully away from muscle rustled the air.

“You’ll never win her back being like that, you know” Thor murmured, drawing the knife respectfully around the rabbit’s hindquarters. Loki scoffed in spite of himself.

“Who says I wish to win her back?” he huffed, laying the first completed rabbit on a clean cloth by his side. Despite stoic intent, he found himself looking up to meet his brother’s incredulous stare.

“What?” Loki said sharply.

Thor released a theatrical shrug, rabbit swinging. “Oh I don’t know brother-” he started, laden with sarcasm.

“Something about your perpetual hangdog expression, insufferable lovelorn mooning and thwarted midnight attempts at seduction led me to believe there could perhaps be something more at play.” He tapped the half-skinned rabbit against his temple. “Not just a helmet-hold, brother” he drawled.

“It was barely ten pm,” Loki muttered petulantly, busying his hands. They continued in silence, before Thor cleared his throat. “What did you wish to speak to me about, if not that?” “It was that, you cretin. But I wish not to discuss it anymore.” “Your feelings for her?” “They have never been in question, brother. You know that.” “Yes.” “Well.” Loki snapped with finality. “Well?” “Her feelings towards me. Her concerns, the ones that broke us...she was, right.” He faltered, grateful for the pause Thor held while he gathered his thoughts. “She told me I was hurting her, and I cared not. And I know not why. At the time, her protestations seemed unreasonable.”

The confession hung around his neck like a ceremonial amulet. Heavy, powerful. “And now?” his brother probed quietly, concentrating on his work.

“Who am I, Thor?” Loki whispered, peeling the fur back from the delicate soul in his hands before stopping. “Who am I if not who I have been for centuries? Millennia?”

“People change, Loki” Thor said quietly, reaching for his brother’s hand. Loki looked up, brows peaked softly.

“But brother, we are not ‘people’. Are we?” Thor was silent. Sympathy swam in the depths of his eyes, darkened by the gloom of the cabin. Rain hit the roof. Loki was glad of it, filling the empty silence. “I’m trying,” was all Loki could muster.

“I’ve noticed,” Thor replied cautiously. “As has she, I suspect. But the palace of Asgard was not built in a day.” “She kissed me,” Loki hummed quietly, staring at the bundle in his lap. “This morning.” “Ah,” his brother hummed mysteriously.

The blonde drew his hand away from where it sat atop Loki’s. He flipped the knife, inspecting the ornate handle. “Do you remember when father gave us these?” he said thoughtfully, a smile stretching across his face. Loki frowned, gazing at his own knife. “The summer with the-” “- Haugan sisters.” They both paused, sighing simultaneously at the wall. Thor shook his head, waving nostalgia from the air. “Father said that they symbolised our transition to maturity. Protection, sustenance, a connection to our roots Loki.” Loki closed his eyes, summoning the memory. The grass was long that endless summer, a log cabin with a stone chimney that dwarfed the exterior. A cabin that had no right to be where it was – and yet, “Loki?” He opened his eyes, meeting his brother’s. In that moment, they could have been three-hundred again.

The blonde god flipped the knife back to position. “Your problem, brother, is that you spend too much time worrying about what you think you should be, rather than what you are.” “And what am I, brother?” Loki bristled, laying his second rabbit down by the side.

“Someone who’s afraid to be loved” Thor said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He pulled the final tug of fur from his charge. “Ah-Ha!” he smiled, turning. “Thank you,” Loki said quietly, cradling the offering and placing it with the others.

“All she wants,” Thor murmured, his concentration fixed on the second rabbit in his lap, “is you. The real you. The one that I know. But maybe one who listens better. And not the mural version, or the lore from battle tales...” He paused, before a sly grin stretched his lips. “Well, perhaps sometimes...if you catch my drift.”

"What if he is not enough?" Loki whispered. He wasn't sure if Thor heard him.

His brother's face had become serious again. He was on a roll. “To feel that your lover sees himself as superior to you in every way? Takes any opportunity to remind one of that? To never try to adapt to a reasonable request? I can see how it can become tiresome.” He shook his head, frowning. “Mother would never have put up with that nonsense. Why should she?”

“Indeed,” Loki muttered softly. He placed his third rabbit to the side as a sigh rattled his chest. His brother was making far too much sense for his liking these days. “Fear not, brother” Thor rumbled as he leant over, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I have a cunning plan. A kiss this morning is most welcome news.” “It was a strange situation. She knew not what she did- it would not have ended well, it-”

Loki’s eyes widened in horror, realisation blossoming. “A cunning what-?” There was a knock on the hut door.

Suddenly, Loki realised that the rain had stopped. Your face popped around the corner. Loki straightened, wiping his hands on his Barbour.

“Steve and I are driving into town” you said, casting glances between the gods sitting hunched on the rotten bench. “Want to come?” Thor propped his fists beneath his chin, smiling obscenely. “Oh, please, brother!?” Loki thought about rolling his eyes, before stopping himself. He pursed his lips instead. “Certainly. Although I am surprised considering-” “We’ll be ‘undercover’, obviously” you cut with air-quotes, glancing backwards. “Apparently Steve needs something from the shops. He seems a bit flustered. The nearest one is pretty small but…” Your head disappeared again, only delicate fingers remaining curled around the door’s ragged edge. He had the sudden urge to protect them from rogue splinters. Loki frowned, noting an impish smile had worryingly taken up residence on his brother's face. “-Yes, I’ll...yes I’ll tell them.” Loki and Thor looked to each other warily, before you appeared again. “Steve says wash your hands,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “And lose the yellow slicker” you nodded to Thor.

From the assortment of abandoned jackets hanging bushel-like in the hallway, they had managed to find one for Thor that wasn’t quite as conspicuous. The 3XL puffer jacket spread around him like a navy cloud.

Steve turned abruptly, eyeing Thor and Loki in the back of the Fiat. A hiss squeezed from the puffer every time Thor fidgeted. “Where am I supposed to put my legs?” Loki muttered scathingly. “This thing has gotten smaller since the drive here.” Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Speaking of magic-” he said, taking his time. “It seems that some of my personal items have gone missing.” Loki glanced at his brother, brows peaked as Steve continued. Thor’s gaze wandered out the window, following a passing bird. “We need to pick up some supplies, like bacon – that’s the cover with her,” he thumbed backwards, “since someone ate the whole week's ration.” Steve’s judgemental gaze swung towards a distracted Thor.

“But on the sly, keep your peepers open for some…” he cast a wary glance out the front windscreen, seeing you locking up the cottage. “-Unmentionables.” “Condoms?” Loki quipped factitiously. Steve flushed. “No, Laufeyson” he hissed, tone frantic as you crunched towards the car. “Rogers underwear has mysteriously vanished, brother” Thor chuckled. “One minute they were lined up in the suitcase, all thirty-six pairs. The next-” he made a whooshing gesture. “Thirty-six?” Loki mouthed incredulously. “Christ, Rogers. Did you intend on soiling yourself thrice daily?” The god twisted towards his smirking brother. “What did you do to them?” “Me? Tis not I who suspicion has fallen on, brother” Thor gasped, pressing his fingers innocently to his chest. Loki rolled his eyes, and this time – he meant it. “Well it wasn’t me.” Loki huffed, folding his arms as Steve’s stare pinballed between them. “I have better things to do. And besides, what fetid joy would I gain from such a waste of-”

You pulled the car handle with a jerk, noting all three men inside bristle and straighten in a way that could be considered nothing short of suspicious.

“Everything okay?” you murmured, settling into the driver’s seat. They nodded in silence.

Thor’s jacket hissed.

“That better not be a parp, Odinson” Steve muttered, followed by the low buzz of a lowering window. You adjusted the mirror, meeting Loki’s eyes and quickly looking away. “Okay,” you sighed to yourself. “Let’s do this.”

The comforting Tesco Express sign glowed in mid-afternoon gloom.

It was barely three, and yet it may as well be sundown. Clouds still smothered the sky, hanging low and ominous over the town’s uneven rooftops. You pulled into a parking spot outside, thanking the powers that be it was quiet. Steve cleared his throat, digging into the breast of his raincoat. He produced four mismatched caps, jamming one low on his brow before handing out the rest. “I don’t think I need to remind you to exercise caution. Don’t be suspicious. Don’t draw attention to yourself, and if anyone asks – we’re just four pals from out of town here for some good ol’ fashioned cottaging.” You wrinkled your nose. “That doesn’t mean what you-” “May we begin this expedition so that it might end sooner?” Loki drawled. With no warning, Thor farted.

The captain’s eyes widened. “Get out...get out!” he gagged. It was the fastest evacuation of a hatchback you had ever witnessed. Thor was last, his cheeks pink. “All the bacon,” he explained sheepishly while pushing the seat forward. You took Thor’s arm, letting the puff of his jacket warm your chilled fingers. While the god’s wide eyes inspected the snack chiller inside the door, you saw a non-nonchalant Loki meander straight to the checkout followed by a jumpy Steve.

The captain hung back, picking up a packet of gingerbread men and inspecting it over a pair of sunglasses.

Loki drummed his fingers on the counter, smiling wryly as a member of staff appeared from the back. “Hi, with you in one second-” they said, holding up a finger before disappearing again. Loki murmured pleasantries, adjusting the cap holding the stuff of his hair. “What are you doing?!” Steve hissed. Loki caught a musty waft of his own waxed jacket as he turned, shooting Rogers a perishing glare.

“You’re the one that has us looking as though we intend to rob the place. Hush,” Loki hissed back. Steve snapped back to the nutritional information as the Tesco worker re-surfaced. “Sorry about that,” they said.

Loki released a dazzling forced smile. “Do you happen to have any mens undergarments in this” he raised his palms, searching for an accurate descriptor, “place?” The man on the other side of the counter frowned. “Like, underwear? No...you’d need to go to one of the bigger stores for that kind of thing.” Loki stared at him. “There’s one in Millom?” the man added nervously, making the sides of Loki’s eyes crinkle before his features softened. “I see,” he purred, tilting his head. “How unfortunate.” “Anything else I can help with?” the mortal asked. Loki sighed thoughtfully, rocking on his heels.

“One package of,” he squinted at the shelf behind the counter. “Durex Extra Safe, if you would.” The heat from Steve’s cheeks radiated the short distance from the bakery display. There was the squeak of a shoe, the telling crack of biscuit as the captain’s sensibilities floundered. Behind the counter, the man turned without a second thought, reaching up before glancing back. “Pack of three or pack of twelve?” he asked.

Loki smirked. “Pack of three or pack of twelve, darling?” he crooned to Steve, whose face had flushed an alarming shade of beetroot. He turned back to face the cashier. “Pack of twelve.” Loki winked.

You couldn’t hear what what transpiring at the check-out, but the shade of Steve’s skin gave the distinct impression it wasn’t on script. The oblivious shop worker reached up, bringing down a box and handing it to Loki who parted with a crisp twenty pound note. Where did he get cash, you thought; before realising what the box was. Are those...

“Agent, look-” Thor exclaimed beside you as he held out an oblong package. “Party Rings,” he said smugly, “If ever there was a snack made for I, tis this – surely.” You muttered a quick uh-huh, stalking down the aisle to where blustery Steve was busying himself picking up a random assortment of foodstuffs piled high in his arms. “Steve?” you said warily as you removed three packets of bacon and a tub of yoghurt. It revealed his face, still flushed and sweaty.

“Laufeyson bought...prophylactics,” Steve rasped as his eyes darted around the empty aisle.

“I saw,” you responded sympathetically while the captain shook his head. “In broad daylight too” he added, narrowing his eyes over your shoulder.

The increasingly erotic scent of waxed Barbour jacket filled your nostrils. “Got everything?” your ex quipped. Steve’s lips flapped, forming words that didn’t come. He released a goose-like hiss instead. You quickly unloaded the rest of the groceries from his hands, spilling them into Thor’s basket just as he parked himself beside you. “What’s happening?” Thor said. Crumbs from a ravaged pack of Party Rings clung to his beard. Loki continued, unperturbed.

“I’m sorry they didn’t have your unmentionables, Rogers. But nevermind – not a totally wasted trip.” He tossed the box of condoms to Steve who caught them out of instinct. “Oh, Extra Safe – excellent choice,” Thor rumbled far too loudly. “And a necessity, for my brother and I – nothing else seems to hold the force of our seed without making quite the mess-” he cast a knowing glance to you. “She knows,” he winked. Steve looked between the gods, aghast. Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his pocket, taking a casual bite. “Are you the same, Rogers?” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “I imagine you must be with all that super-whatjit-serum business.” There was silence. “Oh, right” Thor laughed awkwardly. “Well, you never know...this trip might be the one.” He slapped Steve on the back, chortling.

“Stop calling me Rogers…” Rogers whispered. He looked like he was in shock, staring at the pack of twelve condoms in his hands. “Someone might…” Steve’s face paled as catastrophic images fell into place inside his head. A picture of him on the homepage of every gossip site there was, holding a box of French Letters in Tesco Express like a pervert. He stuffed them in his pocket.

“Let’s pay for this stuff and go.” he said firmly.

“Excuse me?” a voice creaked from further up the aisle. The four of you broke your huddle, battle-stances activated.

An old man shuffled closer, the tap of his walking stick echoing on the polished floor. “What should we do, Agent?” Thor muttered out the corner of his mouth. Your face softened, looking the geriatric up and down. “He’s clean, just an old dude,” you said. Steve tutted beside you. “Could be a disguise.” “A disguise?!” you hissed. “Excuse me, are you-” the old man started, before stopping in a haze of coughing. You began to step towards him, but Steve’s arm flew out to stop you. Four sets of eyes watched the man pick up pace, rubber end of his cane tap tap tapping on the floor as his crinkled gaze widened. It swept between the tall figures before him. Recognition. “Code Amber. Breach. Do something normal,” Steve whispered in panic. Without missing a beat, Thor lifted a sandwich carton from the basket and held in front of his face.

You turned, colliding with Loki’s chest. “Follow my lead,” he growled as he yanked you around the end of the aisle.

Before you could protest, he had you caged against a row of toilet paper. Matt plastic packaging cushioned the back of your head while Loki’s forearm pressed against the face of a sweet looking puppy. “This is normal... isn’t it?” Loki breathed, eyes flickering nervously from your shocked expression to where Steve was checking the expiry date on milk.

You stared up at him, fighting the urge to inhale deeply against the hollow of his neck with all your strength. Pine and smoked cedarwood and that fucking wax jacket. Loki's throat bobbed, working anxiously as the elderly gentleman bypassed the strange man holding a sandwich in front of his eyes. He was gaining on Steve. He's actually worried, you realised. “Move, Rogers” Loki grit, frowning as the intruder finally tapped an undercover captain on the shoulder. The god's eyes widened earnestly. It made you want to sink onto your knees.

The bow of Loki’s jawline was strained, veins tight and pulsing like they did when he was about to cum down your throat; his eyes pleading and needy, mouth open and- You swallowed. Letting your fingers clasp around the rough material of his open jacket, you tugged it gently. “It’s just an old man,” you whispered. Loki tilted his head, seemingly just realising the position he had manoeuvred you into. A gulp made his throat stiffen, then relax.

“Two old men,” he hummed, mirth warming his eyes. You smiled, and so did he.

Loki shuffled closer, his breath mingling with yours. He glanced towards the scene unfolding one aisle over, wetted lips hovering dangerously close to your own.

“Update,” he purred playfully, “the decrepit man has asked Rogers to get something from a high shelf. He has obliged.”

You pursed your lips with an approving nod, hoping Loki couldn’t smell the adrenaline seeping through your pores. “And my brother is still the village madman.”

A giggle escaped you, before the pad of Loki’s index finger smothered it gently. He leant close, your foreheads touching conspiratorially as silent laughter made his chest shake. His mouth creased in a soft smile, rolling the bottom lip beneath the top. “Shhh, you’ll get us in trouble,” he murmured in a way that made your soul leave your body. You wondered if he was hardening beneath his trousers right now. He would have, before. Maybe – if last night was anything to go by. But your awkward kiss this morning flashed back with frightening clarity, the hard look in his eyes as he said the only word that ever seemed to matter. Go. Don't be an idiot, you thought bitterly. Your hands slipped from their rest on his jacket, catching briefly on his belt. Loki watched them fall.

“Me in trouble,” he corrected, face stiffening. You stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Thor’s face peered around the corner, a half eaten ploughman’s sandwich in his grasp. “Time to leave before Rogers goes into cardiac arrest,” he chuckled, nudging his head towards Steve loitering jerkily by the door.

“Can you pay for these?” Thor said, holding out the basket. Empty packets lay nestled amongst the survivors. “You’re the least famous.” You rolled your eyes, nodding up towards Loki. “That sounds like something he would say,” you quipped without thinking. Loki’s brow furrowed. He let the protective arm resting above your head fall without a second glance, striding the long way around towards the exit. Thor took another bite of sandwich. He shrugged, before following his brother. But he didn’t, you thought with a stab of guilt as the three of them disappeared into the street.

The glow of the Fiat’s lock lights flashed. He didn’t.

--> Continued in Chapter Five, A Cunning Plan

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[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, development

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Summary: a development on a mission means it's time to move on.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2,313

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Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Eighty-Five Days

“Holy shit, you got any idea how fuckin’ hard I am right now?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Oh, gross.”

Clint frowned.

“What? It’s seedy as hell,” you waved a hand. “You take me to the worst places.”

You swore, you could actually see him roll his eyes from the other side of the building. “Not exactly poetic, are they?”

The two of you were on top of an old disused warehouse in Harringay, listening with distaste as the men inside discussed their, ugh, merchandise. What was it with men and guns?

The weapons ring you’d fought in Holland Park was still at large, and Clint had spent the last two weeks tracking them down again. Honestly it was a testament to them that it had taken him this long, even without his old SHIELD connections. Whoever they were, they weren’t street level thugs.

…It made you feel the tiniest bit better about them getting the better of you in the park.

Clint had scrubbed through the local police files for any clues as to where they were setting up house. Between that and his own reconnaissance, he’d managed to track one of their prominent dealers to right under your feet.

“You still clear on the plan?”

Nodding, you unhooked the safety hood of your holster. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”

“Y/N…”

You looked up with a raised brow, fixing him with a pointed look. “Are you really about to lecture me about not taking revenge?”

Clint met your eye with an almost exasperated expression. “Point taken.”

“You ready for this?”

“That’s my line.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” you smirked, stretching out a kink in your neck. “Let’s go to work.”

***

You were really getting tired of these guys.

That’s the only thought that came to you as you rolled behind the crates to your left, gun still in your hand. You came to a kneel, your back meeting the wood with a dull thump. They were too prepared, to ready for the two of you.

This wasn’t supposed to end in a shootout. This was supposed to be a quick job, and yet… how did they know about the two of you? They’d mentioned a boss in the park, someone who had guessed you’d been Clint’s back up, but still… they knew you were coming. Not well enough to lay a proper trap, to ambush you before you got inside, but well enough to be ready.

You ducked lower with a curse as wood shattered above you, large splinters raining down on top of you. Thankful for the hood that kept them out of your hair, you exhaled and turned to fire two shots back around the corner. One shot went wide, but you smiled grimly as the second bullet buried itself in a man’s shoulder. He cursed in a heavy Eastern European accent as you ducked back behind the crate.

“Did you have a plan B for tonight, or are we winging this?” you said into your comms. You heard a cry go up among those shooting at you, followed by shouts of confusion and a few wild shots. You winced despite yourself for a second, waiting for a response in your ear to assure you that they’d missed.

“I’m working on one,” Clint replied gruffly, and you released a small, relieved breath despite your faith in him.

“So… winging it, it is then,” you sighed wearily, setting a new magazine into your handgun and adjusting your hold on the grip. “You know, I kinda hate being the one to draw their fire.”

“I’ll make note of it for next time,” he replied dryly, and another gurgling cry went up among the men between the two of you as Clint shot back out of the shadows long enough to take one of them down. He sliced up two – the one you’d wounded and the man closest to him. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright? We’ve got this under control.”

“Do we?”

“You doubt me?”

“I—”

“Fuck this!” shouted one of them – a burly brunette with a greying beard and tattoos scattered over his biceps. “Get one of the pushka out here and end this!”

“Clint—” you said warningly, stealing a glance over the crates.

“Don’t panic,” he warned, and you swore you caught the glimpse of silver in a brief shift of the light to let you know exactly where he was. “You’re not their biggest problem right now.”

“Clint—”

A deafening blast sounded and you fell forward, hands flying automatically to your ears. The crate to your left exploded – as did the wall in front of you, burst apart in a wave of electric blue energy.

“Holy—”

“Y/N!”

“I’m fine, just—”

“Forget the bitch! Get the Ronin!”

You scrambled away from where you’d hidden, throwing yourself behind an old forklift. Too late, you realized you’d left your gun behind, having dropped it when your hands had flown to your ears. Swearing to yourself, you winced as another blast fired. The building itself groaned as they blew another hole in a wall.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

“Just get outta here, Y/N! I’ll distract—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Barton!”

“Just go!” he barked back. “Now!”

“Goddamn it!” you growled, standing as you heard the men shout that they’d spotted the Ronin above them. You saw the gun – a bazooka-like cannon – turn upward, point directly at the shadowy figure above. “Stubborn-ass-son-of-a—”

The blaster fired, and you swept your arm upward in the same moment. A shield appeared seconds before the energy wave could hit Clint, knocking him to the side. The energy wave just barely glanced off the shield before blowing a hole in the roof and sending debris collapsing down on the men below.

“What are you—?”

“Take the moment, Clint; you can yell at me later!” you spat back through gritted teeth, sprinting towards the group still shielding themselves from falling bricks and timber. “Get out! I’m right behind you!”

Pulling the knife from the back of your belt, you turned it in your grip and plunged it into the hand of the man closest to the crate they’d pulled the pushka from, ignoring the way he screamed. You released it, instead grabbing the first weapon you could from the crate – thankfully, a much smaller hand-gun style weapon – and kept running. A few men managed to get off a few shots before you were clear, and you winced as you felt a bullet tear through your sleeve to graze your forearm.

Feet pounding too loud on the pavement, you made it quickly to an alleyway across the street, tucking your prize under your injured arm as you grabbed hold of the rung of a fire escape ladder with your other arm and swung yourself upwards. You could hear the building behind you continue to collapse as you climbed the ladder, and you winced as a hand gripped yours as you reached the top.

“Are you insane?”

“Are you?” you shot back breathlessly as Clint pulled you up onto the roof beside him. “What the hell kind of plan was that? You were gonna let them shoot you with that thing?”

“I’m faster than I look, Y/N,” he pointed out sourly. “And now they know—”

“They don’t know shit,” you argued. “There’s no way they could see the difference between that shield and whatever the hell they were shooting at us with.”

“It was still really stupid, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

Clint gave you a look that somehow managed to look grateful and exasperated all at once.

“Oh, and I totally get MVP this mission.”

“Is that a thing?” he replied dryly.

“It is now,” you said proudly, finally managing to catch your breath. Ignoring the pain throbbing in your arm, you held out the gun you’d stolen. “Ta-freakin’-da, Barton.”

***

“Lat—”

“What?”

Clint repeated himself louder, but his voice was still muffled by the wood of the door and the spray of the shower.

“What?”

You heard the shower door open and a few dull sounds before the bathroom door in front of you opened. Water dripped over Clint’s bare torso and soaked his hair, one hand clutching the towel slung around his waist. You watched him hesitate as he met your gaze, watched the adam’s apple in his throat bob. “Latveria.”

“Lat– Latveria?”

“This is starting to feel dangerously like a bit,” Clint said dryly, stepping back into the shower stall. You felt heat rise in your face as he closed the door and the towel was thrown up over the top of it. You stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment before closing the lid of the toilet and perching on the edge of it. “That’s where the weapons are being made.”

“And they’ve made it all the way out here?” you replied, swallowing as you tried to pointedly avoid staring at the shower. The stall was made of textured, frosted glass, and while it granted Clint modesty, you could still just make out his silhouette against the screen. His hands rose to scrub through his hair, his profile turned just barely away from you.

“They’re global,” Clint told you, raising his voice over the spray. “I heard reports of them turning up in New York back before… Fury had someone else working on it.”

“And we just happened to stumble onto them in a park in London?”

Clint’s hands lingered at the back of his neck. “They’ve been making bigger waves lately. Guess she’s been getting a little cockier since the Decimation wiped out half the authorities that could work their case.”

“‘She’?”

Clint’s hands moved down his chest to his stomach, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, face burning. Your thighs pressed together despite yourself. You knew your voice had broken slightly as you’d spoken that one word.

“Lucia von Bardas.”

The water shut off, and you straightened slightly, your hands threaded together in your lap. The towel disappeared into the stall. “Should I recognize the name?”

“Only if you’re trying to be familiar with Eastern European politics,” Clint told you, the shower stall opening after a moment. “She’s a pretty big name in Latverian political parties. She’s got interests in most of the big exporters coming out of that place, including Von Doom Industries. There’s been rumors of her dealing in some… less than legal businesses for a while now. Guess now we’ve actually got some proof.”

Clint stepped out; the towel tucked securely around his waist once more. He seemed to be avoiding your eye, wiping down the foggy mirror with his palm.

“And?”

“And what?”

“We’re going to take her out, right?”

You stood up, and Clint met your eye in the mirror. He sighed.

“That expression tells me you’ve already decided on the answer for us.”

***

“I’m starting to miss Stark’s money.” Clint sighed, settling back into the seat beside you.

“You’re the one who books these oh-so-deluxe travel arrangements,” you pointed out, attempting to find a comfortable position against the firm back of the bus seat. “You’d think with your super-ninja-spy-magic you’d be able to get us a fancier ride.”

“I’m not a ninja,” he told you patiently. “Or magic.”

“You’re a little magic.”

Clint shook his head with a smile; you were sure there was faint color on his cheeks as he dropped his head back against the headrest.

“So, how long exactly is this ride?”

He answered with his eyes closed. “…About two days.”

“Two days?!” you repeated, when you saw his smile grow slightly, you scowled. “I kinda hate you, you know.”

“I thought I was magic.”

“Magic and despised.”

He chuckled; eyes still closed. The bus pulled away from the curb, surprisingly empty. The sky outside was already dark, and the glow of the streetlights passed over the archer’s face. “We’re less likely to be recognized on the bus.”

“Curse you and your logic.”

Clint didn’t reply, and the two of you sat in silence for twenty minutes before you spoke again.

“It’s a little annoying how easily you can fall asleep.”

He smirked; eyes still stubbornly closed. “I’m not asleep.”

“…How about now?”

“Were you always this annoying on road trips?” he teased.

You laughed, closing your eyes too. “Oh, please. You’d be so bored without me.”

***

You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep still lingering. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but the wide expanse of road ahead of the bus told you you’d left the city a long time again, as did the faint pink glow tainting the deep purple of the night sky. You shifted, brow furrowing as you felt the warmth pressed up against your side and the rough fabric against your cheek. A comfortable weight rested against the crown of your head, and you frowned against the fuzziness still clinging to your tired mind.

Your eyes finally cleared to settle on the color of Clint’s jacket, and you felt his breath fan softly against your hair. You’d fallen asleep, your head falling against his shoulder, and he’d apparently done the same. His cheek was pressed against your hair, his breathing steady and even. A smile touched your lips as you let the sensation of his chest rising and falling lull you back into rest, and you ignored the sensible part of your brain that was trying to remind you that you were supposed to maintaining your distance from him.

Your eyes fell to your lap as your eyelids began to droop, and warmth flared in your cheeks. Your hand was on your thigh, and Clint’s rested beside it, his fingertips settled on the back of your hand. Your skin was warm and tingled under his touch.

Had he… had he been holding your hand?

.

.

.

tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @lol-you-thought @akumune@xxboesefrauxx @enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies @youralphawolf72 @maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky @melaclintbartoncorner @loki-is-loved@whovianayesha @bradfordbantams@alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86 @darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93@darkwhisperswolf

[mistresskayla-blog1]

A Calculated Risk

Characters: John Porter x Raymond Merville x OC Dina Sayed

Lyn's Writing Event 2024 - Week 3 - Day 17

May 17th: Week 3: Egyptian

Characters: John Porter x (crossover) Raymond de Merville (Modern AU) x OC Dina Sayed

Fandom: Richard Armitage – John Porter/ Raymond de Merville – Strike Back (Project Dawn- Porter Lives AU)/Pilgrimage

the character of John Porter was created by Chris Ryan, adapted for television by Simon Burke and Frank Spotnitz

the character of Raymond de Merville was created by Jamie Hannigan for the film Pilgrimage

Word Count: 2k ++

Warnings: military protocols, violence, graphic language, potential character death, fluff, angst, implied sexual relationships, money laundering, arms dealing, love triangle, rescue, espionage.

(This will be a full story – this is all I could get done in the time allotted, but it will continue this month. Also I keep using the name “John” and “Porter” interchangeably. I may go back and alter that later on. Sorry if it causes confusion)

~~~~

            Porter got his assignment that morning as he stepped onto the plane in Istanbul, Turkey. The two-hour flight gave him enough time to go over the dossier of Raymond Merville, a known arms dealer who had asked for assistance in retrieval in Egypt from a compound in Siwa Oasis. His commander, ________ (female commander) was very insistent, “Make sure you get him back in one piece, he’s a delicate piece of intel, but he is also a complete asshole.” John snickered over the coms as she said that.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Is there some package or whatever, or just him I am securing?”

Commander Eleanor Grant spoke carefully, “we need him, in person for the briefing, just get him here.”

“Understood,” John Porter responded, the call ended. Porter set his phone down on the table in front of him on the plane. And picked up the dossier again, opening it ceremoniously, and flipping through files, seeing a picture of Raymond in the file.

There wasn’t a lot to like about Raymond Merville, other than his penchant for drinking and gambling, along with arms dealing. He liked local flavors, and was well known to be a womanizer, John could respect that, as he was a bit of cad sometimes, but. The more he read the more it was reported that women he got involved with ended up missing. Including a journalist, an attaché, and two former undercover SAS agents. John gritted his teeth and furrowed his brow, looking out through the open window of the plane, a member of his team is not something he can contend with, even if it wasn’t on his watch, but two? Like it or not, Raymond was deadly to most women, and to intelligent and capable women to boot.

Porter made it his mission to keep him away from as many women as possible during the retrieval. The only reason he was going in, was that he looked similar enough to Raymond that his CO thought they could do a bait and switch with the Arab compound. A message came through the com – and he looked at it, it read, “New intel indicates he has an Egyptian national with him, Dina Sayed, CEO of a Financial Institution in Alexandria.” A picture of Dina Sayed popped up on his phone screen and Porter’s heart fluttered than sunk into his belly.

Porter spoke into his phone, “He’s escalating” he said sighing heavily.

Commander Grant, “I agree. Please keep an eye out for her, we both know her fate if you don’t.” Porter nodded, “Yes, I understand.”  

“Be careful out in Siwa, its pretty far from support, so make sure you have proper transportation in and out, we’ll rendezvous with you at the coordinates I sent,” Commander Grant explained.

“And Porter?” Commander said in question, “Yes?” Porter responded, “Its good to have you back.”

Porter smiled, as he looked out the window again, descending into Alexandria, “Good to be back.”  The plane landed in normal pace and as it hit the tarmac, Porter lurched in his seat, remembering the landings he has had in the past that were actually less smooth. He shook his head, clearing old memories and demons from his mind.

---

Raymond woke up with Dina’s arm draped across his chest, she stirred as he peeled her arm off his chest and snuck to the lavatory for a piss. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and felt the heat already creeping across the open door in his room on the compound. He pulled the glass doors closed, and the light-colored linen drapes stilled. Dina moaned against the duvet, “What time is it?” Raymond looked over at her, nearly naked in his bed and smiled like a cat with a canary. He approached the bed and sat down, clad in only shorts, “Time for you to get to work, love,” he said, his French-English accent whispering to her. Dina rolled away from him and sat up, retrieving her top off the floor and slipping it on, “Yeah, I know. I was hoping for some breakfast first.” She coyly smirked back at him over her shoulder as she stood.

Raymond came up behind her, across the bed and kissed her shoulder, “We can, soon. Let’s just get this thing done for Amed and then we can go wherever you want to go in the Oasis.”

Dina looked at him, “Amed said we couldn’t leave, how do you suppose we are going anywhere?”

Raymond sighed against her skin, kissing it, and causing tingles down her spine, he was so attractive, Dina thought. He was definitely wrong for her, she knew that when he approached her in that club 3 weeks ago. But he knew people, and Dina wanted to grow her business, even if it meant dealing with people that could, harm her.

Raymond kissed her neck again coming around the front of her and put his hand on the back of her neck, looking hard in her eyes, “We will get out of here, I promise you. I arranged a retrieval with my government,”

Dina stepped away from him, “What? In Amed’s house? Are you nuts?” Dina walked briskly into the lavatory. Raymond on her feet, “Dina! (he lowered his tone) Dina. Please. I can’t get out of this any other way this time. Amed does not let anyone leave this place without a fucking delivery or a toe tag. (he talked wildly with his hands) I need your money to get him his delivery.”  

Dina looked at him through the reflection in the mirror, “How do you want me to do this then? Because I’m not dying for you.” Raymond put his arms around her and looked at her in the mirror set into his chest, “I’m not letting you go, until I say.” His eyes darkened a little as he kissed her shoulder again and left the room. Dina shuddered, and splashed some water on her face, it was tepid, in the desert, water isn’t cold, even in the Oasis. She dried her face with a hand towel and straightened herself up a bit. Heading back to the bedroom where Raymond was casually leaning against the floor to ceiling doorway he had closed earlier.

Raymond turned to her, and smiled slightly, Dina approached him, tipping up to kiss him on the mouth, “I will make the arrangements for you, it should take a few hours, can you tell him that?” Dina came back down on her heels and he held her, looking into her eyes, “Yes, I can, thank you,” he nudged her cheek with his nose, and then dropped his hands sighing as he stared out at the Oasis. Dina finished getting dressed and pulled her laptop out of her large purse by the bed.

She pulled a key fob out of the purse as well, it had a read out that changed every 60 seconds for security, and never repeated a combination. Raymond watched her every move silently. Dina pressed her fingerprint to a key pad on the laptop keyboard and the computer loaded into a login program. She typed in her password and pressed Enter. It opened to an accounts setting. Dina scrolled through and found the corresponding wire information. She turned to Raymond then, “What’s his acct number?”  Raymond stepped towards her, and pulled out his phone, scanning they a folder and then showing her, but still not talking. “Thank you” she said, looking at it, and typing it into the form. She got the corresponding information and prepared the wire, “Amount?” She looked at him again, realizing he was standing just behind her, Dina felt a bit nervous with him right on top of her like that.

“45 millions euros.” He said casually. Dina smirked a little, that’s a good chunk for her she thought, he fee is 3% of transfer. Dina did the calculations, and sent through the wire, removing her fee ahead of the schedule. She looked at her device as the program prompted and typed in the 6 digit code before it switched again. The confirmation came up, and she looked at the “pending” status, and logged out swiftly. “There you go, all set.” Dina beamed up at Raymond, as she closed her laptop and tucked the device under her shirt.

Raymond beamed back at her, “Great. I will go tell Amed he can expect it soon,”

Dina walked to the window, “Less my fee of course”, a sly smirk rising. Raymond’s voice faltered, “You took it right away?” Dina looked at him, “Yes, why?” Raymond cleared his throat, “That’s very bold of you, what do I do about the discrepancy?” Dina looked down a moment, “You tell it’s a fee charge, what else, look I’m not doing this for a laugh. I need my own money to shift the company.” Raymond nodded, “I know, I want to help you, but this is a tricky deal, we have to be smart, how much did you take?” Dina turned, “1.3 million.” Raymond looked thoughtful, “I see, and where is that now? In your bra?” Dina looked more serious at him, “Don’t be ridiculous its in my other account.” 

Raymond rubbed her arms and up to her shoulders from behind, leaning into her shoulders a bit as they both stared out through the window. His hands squeezing menacingly, “Where am I supposed to get the other money then?” Dina shifted against his weight. “I told you 45 million clean, now your playing around, taking fees, he doesn’t know about?” Dina moved out of his grip, but he was fast and gripped her arm again. Twisting her to face him, “You don’t understand,” Raymond said.

Dina snapped back at him, “No You don’t understand, I am doing You a favor,” she pointed at his chest, walking him backwards, “And You will respect my position here.”

Raymond started to laugh, “Darling, the only position you are here for is to be on all fours, and give me that money,” Dina slapped him across the face, and moved to leave the room. Raymond was right behind her, pulling her back against his chest, “Don’t cross me either, I may be a pussycat, my dear but I can be fierce,” he nearly growled in her hair. Dina shuddered, staying still under his grasp, waiting for her opportunity to get away.

“Look, we can tell him together, if your so,” she swallowed, “nervous.” Raymond towered over her and placed a kiss on the top of her head, “Yeah, yeah, let’s do that,” his grip loosened as he calculated. Dina relaxed momentarily and they both exited the room to the main part of the compound.

---

            John secured a jeep and some gear, just enough supplies for the trek there and back. His rendezvous was just outside Marsa Malruh, near a small Bedouin village with a tourist salt cave. He had 28 hours to get Raymond and get him back to the rendezvous point. John thought about the woman, Dina, trying to figure out if he would have to retrieve her too. Surely if she was with Raymond, she knew the risk of staying in that compound. The compound in question was owned by Amed Al-Siwa, a very intense man with dark eyes and large hands. He had a short temper and a powerful sense of loyalty and honor.

It was 6 pm local time and Porter was driving into the sunset along the northern coast of Egypt, 6 hours on the road would get him to the compound just after midnight, and that meant, two things, the element of surprise, and cooler temperatures. Porter drove as the highway carried him to the southern roadway about 3 hours in. He stopped for petrol and pounded some caffeine pills he snagged in the shop. Its nothing but darkness in the desert at night, and wild animals, Porter wanted to stay alert. Porter checked his gear one more time, retrieving his Glock 9mm, and set it between the seats. He didn’t plan on getting stopped at the tolls, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen.

---

Taglist:

@scariusaquarius @riepu10 @sweetestgbye @lathalea

@middleearthpixie @evenstaredits @legolasbadass

Lyn's Writing Event 2024

[captainlynxx]

And we’re done with consequences :D, I like my highlight format so let’s go with that again:

The baby farmers

> ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked. ‘Is our pet freak misbehaving again?’

‘Pet freak? Said Jack, in a tone of mild outrage. ‘Who’re you calling a pet freak?’

> ‘I’m not really a fan of musical theatre’

‘Sure about that?’ asked Jack.

‘Yes, Jack,’ Gaskell replied, wearily. No matter how hard you try to convince me otherwise.’

> Emily thought this over for a moment before smiling. ‘Not really,’ she replied, gently brushing Alice’s cheek with one finger. (I know what you are)

> ‘Mr Gaskell,’ he said. ‘How do you do? Please, take a seat. Would you care for tea,’ (never beating the British allegations)

> ‘You know, we could have tried knocking at the door,’

>’Cyanide…’ said Gaskell (yummy)

> ‘Do you see, Mr Gaskell?’ said Emily. These things can be done quietly, you know.’

> ‘And,’ Emily continued, ��I am sure there are far more enjoyable things with which we can occupy ourselves this evening.’

‘Why, Miss Holroyd,’ said Alice, raising one eyebrow. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

Emily leaned across the desk and kissed her gently on the lips.

‘I shall leave that to your imagination, Miss Guppy,’ she replied.

Kaleidoscope

> ‘I think I’ve found something.’

‘Jack?’ Gwen raised an eyebrow. ‘Finding Jack might solve our problem.’

> Owen Harper could truly be a bastard sometimes

> ‘Voilà’

‘Smart arse.’

> ‘Oh gosh,’ Toshiko Sato whispered.

‘If you’ve got a swearword in you,’ Gwen said ‘then maybe this is the time for it. Whether you like it or not, you’re in charge.’

> There were just too many personal ghosts in the quiet spaces around him. His eyes snagged on Jack’s office door. That space especially.

> Under all the angst in their relationship, Gwen felt for him. (I forgot angst wasn’t just an ao3 tag)

The wrong hands

> ‘Always a godfather and never a god.’ (Boygenius starts playing)

> Nobody knows I’m a lesbian (I don’t have that problem the closet is glass)

> ‘That’s right,’ said Jack, grinning. ‘You know, you’d make a very good police officer. Has anyone ever told you that? Or maybe a very good drug dealer.’

> ‘You’d be surprised what you can get up to on a rocking horse’ (Jack bloody Harkness)

> ‘Always looking on the bright side. Are you Welsh by any chance?’

Virus

> ‘Torchwood kills babies’

> ‘And you’re taken,’ said Ianto. ‘Both of you are. Nothing wrong with window shopping, just try not to lick the glass too much.’

> ‘I do my best,’ he said. ‘Which is usually pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. Which I do.’

> ‘The rest of the team?’

Gwen and Ianto frantically mimed at him to say that they weren’t there, shaking their heads and waving their arms around. Jack grinned. Why let them miss out on all the fun?

‘Yes we’re all here, hang on.’

> An emergency stash of instant coffee, hidden under several folders so that Ianto wouldn’t find it.

> Gwen looked at Jack, dismayed, as if he had asked her to shoot a small kitten in the head. ‘Jack, Jack, Jack. He’d go bananas. He’d kill us. And he knows what the coffee from all the local places smells like.’

> ‘And I’m not the tea-boy. I’m the coffee boy.’

> He removed his hand and kissed him, quickly, keeping his expression optimistic.

> ‘Well, if I’m talking to you, then I’m not talking to myself, which makes it perfectly normal and not weird…’

> Ianto took a sip of the coffee, and winced. To say it wasn’t up to his standards would be like saying a light bulb emitted slightly less light and heat than the sun.

> ‘Jack, you know how I feel. I think I know how you feel. You brought me back from the brink, so many times, and made me feel so alive. I didn’t think I’d ever feel like that again. So thank you. In all the madness, you’re the one person I know I can rely on. And that counts for a hell of a lot.’

> Before he left, he gave Jack one last kiss. And he made sure it was a good one.

> ‘Don’t make fun of the suit,’

> ‘How about the time when—‘

He stopped, and looked at Gwen and Rhys. He didn’t want them to hear this. He leaned in closely to Jack, and whispered the rest into his ear. (What did he whisper? WHAT DID HE WHISPER???)

> Jack nodded. Took Ianto’s hand. And for the rest of the evening, there were no more words.

Consequences

So uhm I kinda forgot to highlight in this one and slight problem is I have to return it to the library tomorrow morning so I will update this post after a re-read :D

[prismaticquartz]

[ frustration ]

~ hello spark fandom i am your local angst dealer

[hissuccessor-a]

@caltropz replied to your post “++ anyone else in this thread currently suffering from angst brain”

not even in the thread and it's giving me angst brain

dksjgdsgj i wasn’t even talking about the specific angst thread but yes, read that thread and let it give u angst brain. then take that angst brain and write in v4 with me

[damon-loves-pie]

“Wish I Could Be Your Man.”

I had to reshare this again this morning because I couldn’t find it any of the original hashtags I had done. And I spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME writing this for it to not get the recognition it deserves. 

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female reader.

Word count: About 11k words. ( I GOT CARRIED AWAY)

Warnings: 18+, SMUTTY- FLUFFY- ANGSTY KIND OF SLOW BURN STORY. Talks of reader moving around a lot, there is angst with crying and fighting between the reader and Eddie at some point. Reader was cheated on by an ex who slept with her best friend. LOTS OF POT SMOKING.(Eddie is her dealer.) There is pussy eating, fingering, sex of course, and not really much dick sucking. No safe sex happens, (WRAP IT UP PLEASE, I AM PREGNANT BY ACCIDENT SO DON’T BE LIKE ME), Reader does drive stoned. (DO NOT DO THAT PLEASE.) Cigarette smoking, other than that I think that’s all???

I did use inspiration from Eddie’s and Chrissy scene in their first hang out.

Requested by: Anonymous, link to request is here. Overall was requested for a female reader x Eddie fic based off the ending of the song, The Summoning By Sleep Token. (I am not taking anymore request at the moment.)

Summary: Reader had moved around most of her life leaving her unwilling to let anyone close to her after having her heart broken at a young age, she’d rather spend her Senior year alone than with people who probably wouldn’t care for her. She starts working at Family Video in which she asks Steve if he knew where she could find the local dealer. After learning about Eddie Munson ,reader starts buying from him, overtime starting to grow fond of him till a small relationship forms. Eddie wants more than the reader is allowing, causing a fight to break out over him begging her to come see his band play. Reader in the end pulls her head out of her ass, and realizes she cares about the boy as much as he cares about her.

Author’s note: I WILL SAY THE BEGINING IS LONG, AND EDDIE DOESN’T COME IN FOR A MINUTE. BUT PLEASE bare with me. I HAD TO ESABILISH SOME KIND OF STORY. You don't get to see Eddie till a little over 2,000 words in. BUT I PROMISE YOU, IT’S WORTH IT.

I spent the last few days working solely on this and have proofread but it was superlong so I hope I didn’t miss anything.

But to whoever requested this I hope you enjoy the vision I had came up with.

Writing Masterlist

Hawkins, Indiana. The home of the small town high school, Hawkins High, which I'll be attending till graduation in the spring.

Other than that, Hawkins was just another small town on the list of places I've lived.

It was a place that probably won't cross my mind ever again when I leave for college in the fall just like any of the other towns I have called home over the years.

My father's job caused us to move so often that I stopped being interested in finding ties to a town I wouldn't be in for long.

Ever since getting a promotion before I went into 7th grade, he has constantly moved our family  so he could help run or set up different stores across the country.

In result of that, the longest I tend to stay in a place is just for the school year. Maybe for the summer too if I'm lucky, but that seems to be about every other year.

Growing up with constantly moving made me crave structure. I act like I hate the idea of settling down and making friends, but actually I yearned for it.

I wanted strong friendships, I wanted to be on first name basis with the gas station clerk kind of thing, I wanted everything that came with a normal life.

But over the last few years I didn't see the point in making friends who would stop answering my calls or letters after a few weeks of me moving away.

So that dream life will just have to wait till I go to college next fall.

I had been dreaming of it since the summer of my freshman year.

I even started working that summer to save up for my apartment that I'll have during the four years I plan on attending.

I have so much money saved up because how badly I want this, and have worked my ass off to make sure I will get accepted.

I needed to have control of something in my life and this was the easiest most important way I could.

I thought about my life and the things that made up it as I drove down the run down road towards the high school.

How after having been to five other schools as the new girl, this sixth one probably wasn't going to be any different.

The nerves I had in middle school about starting new were gone now, having died out by freshman year.

The thought of being the new girl wasn't scary anymore, it was now routine.

My tires screech against the pavement as I pull into the parking lot, entering into an empty space.

Knowing what awaited me I grabbed by backpack and Walkman off the passenger side, throwing the worn out headphones over my ears.

My fingers pressing play as I hopped out of the seat of my car.

Walking towards the wide open doors, my eyes studied the school.

Hawkins High wasn't anything special, but neither were most the schools I went to.

It was your normal brick building with the school colors scatter about to capture that 'school spirt', with a big welcome sign seated up front to welcome in the new and returning students.

I reach the doors feeling eyes turn towards me from the lockers lined down the hall, other students taking a glimpse at the unknown student.

I was used to people whispering about me, usually wondering about the newest girl of the year. And I defiantly knew it was going to be bigger news once people found out I was a senior.

Not paying them any mind I followed the wall signs towards the door labeled 'office.'

I spent the twenty minutes before class filling out paperwork as the secretary retrieved my schedule. Reassuring the people in the office multiple times that I didn't need a student to show me around before heading to my classes for the day.

My first few classes were as normal as they could be. The teachers having me introduce myself to the class after realizing there was a new student on their roster. Syllabuses got handed out and read, stating what was expected for each class. And then most students avoiding me like the plague or gave me a small smile and a wave when passing in the hall.

Walking into lunch I felt heads turn towards me, knowing all the small-town kids who've known each other since preschool were talking about the new girl. Wondering if she had somewhere to sit or would dare sit alone.

That was the thing they didn't know though, I would rather sit by myself any day then beg someone to be my friend so I wouldn't be alone.

Finding an empty table near the windows I plopped myself into a seat, music playing through my headphones as I pulled out the work Mrs. Click had given us already.

I wasn't wanting to worry about finishing it later tonight since my first shift at my new job started after school.

I would rather eat a quick lunch on the way there than get off tonight and have to worry about finishing the assignment.

After lunch was over the second half of the day seemed to fly by, surprising me as the clock hit four pm when I got home.

I threw my bag onto my bed, grabbing the dark green Family Video vest off my chair as I made my way back to my car.

The job didn't seem like anything special from the outside and I doubt it was going to change my life or anything. But it was a way to make money and something to keep me occupied during my time here in Hawkins.

The sound of the bell ringing greeted me as I entered the store, causing me to groan internally because I knew soon I was going to loathe the sound.

My line of vision hit the front desk, looking for the man named Steve Harrington, who Keith told me would be training me today.

A tall brunette comes from behind the shelf, huge hands holding a small stack of tapes.

"Welcome to Fam- Oh, you must be (Y/N) the new hire. I'm Steve." He smiles, eyes glimmering as they meet the vest I'm wearing.

"That's me." I shrug slightly, watching as he studied me.

Steve wasn't bad looking and defiantly was not my usual type, but he wasn't something I wouldn't mind looking at from time to time. I memorized the way his longish hair sat and freckles that scattered across his neck to the way his muscles peaked out from under his polo as he held the tapes.

Realizing he had spent 30 seconds too long staring, he coughed awkwardly motioning his head towards the back of the counter.

"We should probably get you clocked in before we start training you in the 'Family Video way." He quotes sarcastically.

His free hand making quotations causing me to roll my eyes playfully in response.

Steve notices, laughing lightly while he placed the tapes on the counter.

"It's what Keith says we have to say when we train someone new. But I think he just likes trying to make my job a little harder." Steve explains, rummaging through a drawer till he pulls out  a blank time card.

Laughing at his comment, I take the time card and pen from his grasp.

"So you can smile, I was worried you were going to have the whole 'I'm going to kill you vibe' all night long." He teases, watching as I write my name and the date across the paper.

"Don't get too excited, if I end up not liking you it could still happen." I shake my head playfully, going to sign on the time.

"You can write you were here 10 minutes earlier, Keith never checks the cameras." Steve promises, catching me off guard as my eyebrow raises in response.

"You trying to get me fired already Steve?"  I mock, watching his lips turn up into a smile.

"I wouldn't do that unless you actually tried to kill me." He jokes, causing me to grin in amusement, scribbling 4:15 onto my time card.

The bell rings again for the second time that night as I look over to him,

"Looks like we have our first customer of the night." I sigh, placing my time card with the rest on the counter.

As the night went on I realized my job here at Family Video was actually one of the easier jobs I've had over the years.

There really wasn't much to it other than helping customers, keeping track and stocking innovatory,  taking care of the store plus it's merchandise and either closing or opening the store depending on your shift.

Not to mention as well that Steve was surprisingly a good trainer. He was fun, light hearted, and didn't get upset or acted like I was stupid if I forgot how to do something. Instead he would explain it again understanding sometimes it was hard to get used to some things.

The night went by fast due to the steady stream of customers we had, which Steve promised wasn't normal for a Monday and that next week would probably feel so slow compared to today.

Steve had allowed me to do honors of locking the door after waving off the last customer of the night,  celebrating a successful evening.

We finished rewinding the brought back tapes and putting them into their designated areas before closing down the register, deciding to save sweeping and mopping for last.

Steve followed behind me as I swept, mopping the hardwood floors.

"How is Hawkins treating you so far?" Steve asks filling the quiet air while swirling the soapy mop against the walkway.

Thinking about my response I stop sweeping, turning towards him.

"Can I be honest or are you going to judge me if I say the wrong thing?" I ask him with a serious look on my face.

Stopping his movements as well, he brings his eyes to mine.

"Why would I judge you?" He asks, bringing his hand to his hip while the other hand leaned against the mop handle.

"Hawkins has been fine the past couple of days, but uh" I trail off, moving my eyes down to the broom handle I was playing with nervously.

"But?" He asks as I sigh, lifting my eyes back up to meet his.

"But I can't seem to find out where to get any uh-stuff around here." I tell him, hoping he would understand.

"What stuff?" He asks confused, causing me to roll my eyes at the boy.

"Weed Harrington, weed. I haven't learned who sells here yet." I laugh watching the realization of what I meant wash over his face.

"Oh okay. Well that's easy, you could go to Eddie Munson." He tells me, dipping the mop back into the bucket of water.

"So where do I find him then?" I ask, going back to moving the broom across the floor, picking up pieces of dirt and dust.

"Uh, I think he's actually in school again this year since I didn't see him at graduation.  So you could probably find him tomorrow." He answers, letting the loud thud of the mop head hit the floor.

"But be careful around him." Steve warns, lifting up a finger to me.

Stopping my movements again I turn towards the boy.

"Wait why be careful?" I ask him, confused on why he would say that. Unless the guy was like a serial killer or something.

"He's just a little bit of a freak. He listens to crazy music and of course as I told you deals drugs. Plus he plays that kid game, DND, and he's also in like a satanic band." Steve explains, the judgment in his voice lingering as he mops the dry wood.

"In a band you say. Does he play the guitar? Can he sing?" I joke, going back to finishing the floor.

"Yeah, I think he does play and if you want to call what he does singing." Steve answers, chuckling slightly.

"Sounds like he may be my type Harrington." I tease, knowing he's rolling his eyes behind me while we finish closing the store.

Heading into the school the next morning I was praying to find this Eddie Munson that Steve had told me to find.

I was desperate need of release because I finished the rest of my stash after getting off work last night.

If I don't get something soon I don't know how I'll survive the stress of senior year and work.

I had asked Steve before getting into my car where I would more than likely find him at school but he didn't have a clear answer since he didn't know much about the boy.

Just said I'll know he's him when I see him, that him and his friends are different from everyone else the high school.

Which basically left me with nothing, because what the hell was the supposed to mean?

I've came to notice two things over the years when figuring out who the dealer or dealers of the schools were. They were usually either the jocks no one would expect or the students with just enough charisma that they could convince anyone they wouldn't dare do that.

But they didn't always fall into those categories.

I scanned the halls as I walked to my first class, seeing the usual cheerleaders and jocks in their letterman jackets but none of them giving off the vibe of the local dealer.

The rest of the students left in the hall looked like they wouldn't dare touch it, let alone sell it.

None of them looked the way Steve had led me to believe Eddie would look like.

I felt discouraged as I sat down at my desk, hopping to find him at some point in the day. But at the moment it felt like I was looking for a needle in a haystack.

By the time lunch came around I wondered if Steve might have been wrong about him still being in school. Maybe he did graduate and Steve hadn't noticed. Or maybe he dropped out, having not wanted to finish school.

Or maybe he wasn't as bad as Steve tried to make him out to be so I'm looking for the wrong person.

Sitting down at the table I had sat the day before, I listened to the music playing through my ears. My eyes scanning the room over the top of my book.

I saw the usual cliques as I looked around the room but nothing screaming "Satan worshipers' like Steve had warned.

Turning my line of vision towards the tables in front of me I see a group stand out over the rest of the students a few tables down.

The occupants of the table were wearing leather jackets, torn vests and jeans. Just overall looking like themselves compared to the other students who looked like they walked out of a page of the latest magazine.

Leaning back slightly I eyed the table. My vision being drawn to the front to see a long curly haired brunette telling what seemed to be a dramatic story. The rest of the table watched in awe, laughing and making comments at the boy.

I took his appearance in, he was wearing black jeans that were ripped at the knee. There was a chain poking out beside him, the leather jacket he wore had a battle vest paired with. It had patches and pins scattered across it. The hand that brought whatever he was eating to his mouth were decorated in chunky silver rings, leather and chain bracelets sticking out as his sleeve rolled down slightly.

That has to be him, I thought to myself as I drooled mentally for a second.

I may have been right, this man was just my type.

I decided to let myself admire him for a second longer, not realizing he would notice the feeling of my eyes observing him so soon.

His eyes turned to meet mine as I adverted my sight quickly towards the words in front of me, feeling my face reddening slightly while the boy watched me for a moment.

I didn't dare to look up from my book the rest of lunch and wondered if the stares I felt were coming from him or someone else in the room.

I was one of the first students out of the lunch room when the bell rang to dismiss us.

Nervous about having been caught, I headed to the bathroom before going to class to catch my breath for a second.

Making my way down the hall I turn the corner not expecting to run chest first into someone this late into the passing period.

"Oh shit I'm so- you're new right?" I hear as I look at the chest of the person I ran into.

The battle vest and leather looking familiar as I took in the pins and patches, realizing as I stepped back that I had ran into the person I've been looking for.

"Are you alright?" He asks with concern in his voice, his hand moving to touch my forearm gently.

"I'm fine, just kind of shocked that's all." I laugh lightly, lifting my gaze to meet his to see the worry in his eyes disappear.

"And uh- yeah I just moved here for my senior year." I finish, watching his brown eyes crinkle while his lip curl up into a smile.

"Well welcome to Hawkins, I'm Eddie. Eddie Munson, I do wish we could of had a less painful introduction than this though." He grins, dimples popping out as he extends his hand towards mine.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." I smile lightly, taking his hand into mine.

The bell above us rings making me pull my hand away in shock as we realize passing period is now over.

"I should get going if actually plan on graduating this year." Eddie chuckles, pulling his hand back awkwardly.

Nodding in agreement we both stand there for a second, neither of us taking the first step to leave.

"Before I go, I uh saw you sitting alone at lunch. And if you want you could always join me and the rest of hellfire." He offers, twirling the ring on his left pointer finger nervously. A small blush playing on his cheeks, while he glances down at his shoes.

"Hellfire? Is that your band?" I ask curiously, watching his demeanor change in response.

"It's not, but you have heard of me?" He questions with amusement in his voice. His body stands a little taller, moving to lean against the lockers next to me as his arms cross across his chest. Smile tugging on his lips playfully.

"I had um- asked around about finding uh- supplies and I got your name along with some warnings." I tell him sheepishly, hearing his laugh escape through his lips.

"Sounds about right, just I can't get you stuff at the moment." Eddie tells me, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"But we are already late, so how do you feel about going out to the woods?" Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow, bringing his fingers to his lips in a smoking motion.

"I would beg please." I laugh, watching his smile widen.

He leads me out the door in the hallway, showing me the way to the picnic table in the woods.

I sit down across from him watching him dig around the pack of camels he pulled out of his jacket pocket.

Pulling out an already rolled joint Eddie smiles in triumph, handing it to me along with his lighter.

"Most people around here have smoked my weed at some point before they even come up to me. So um since you're new I figured you can smoke it before you decide to buy it." Eddie explains, watching as I bring the joint to my lips. The clicking of the lighter lighting the paper into a burning ember.

Inhaling I feel the familiar haze wash over my body and mind releasing all the stress and tension the day had brought so far.

Coughing slightly due to the harsh hit, I pass the joint back to Eddie.

"Thank you, you don't know how bad I needed this." I thank him, exhaling the thick smoke into the air around us.

"Trust me, I get it. High school and life can be rough." He welcomes, bringing the burning smoke to his lips.

"So tonight doesn't work for me to meet up with you because I'm playing at the hideout tonight. But I could meet up with you here tomorrow or after school at one of our places if you're comfortable with that." He tells me, as my smaller fingers takes the joint back from between his.

"I couldn't do tonight anyway because I work Tuesdays, but I can do tomorrow. And meeting at your house will work, I need to learn my way around town anyway." I laugh lightly feeling the high starting to hit me as I breathe out what was left of my hit.

"So what's the hideout?" I ask him curiously, seeing his eyes spark up as he takes a hit.

"It's just some shitty bar here in town, and it's pretty cool actually. And we get a crowd there of about um- five drunks." Eddie tells me, humor in voice.

I hear myself giggle in response, fingers brushing against his more the higher I get.

"Yeah, it's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere right?" He finishes, playfully shrugging his shoulders.

"So is that what you hope to do with your life? Get somewhere with your music?" I ask, taking the second to last hit that was left.

"That's the plan. I love music and love the thought of being able to travel the country while doing what I love." Eddie nods, taking the joint between his lips before putting it out on the table.

"If that's what you want, then it sounds nice. I think everyone should do what makes them happy." I tell him, touching his forearm gently.

"How about you? What plan do you have?" He questions, resting his chin on his hand.

"Um, I've moved around every year the last five, six years so I'm really trying to make it to college and decide from there." I admit to him.

"So we're on two different spectrums?" He chuckles, as I nod in agreement.

"So it would seem." I laugh lightly.

"Do you know much are you wanting tomorrow?" Eddie asks, pulling a cigarette out of the pack on the table.

"What are your prices?" I ask him, watching him light the cigarette.

He inhales, chewing on his lip for a second before talking.

"I can do a half ounce for um $20." Eddie offers, lifting the cigarette up for me to take.

"That works and would be great." I smile, taking the cigarette from him.

"You know you don't seem as bad as people say." I tell him as the cigarette rest on my lips, my glassy eyes smiling over at him.

"Mean and scary?" Eddie asks, hand rubbing his cheek while a smile forms.

"Yeah." I nod, biting back my smile as I pass him the cigarette.

"Actually in other good news- flattery works with me. " Eddie smiles, as I raise an eyebrow.

"So uh 25% discount for the half. I can do fifteen bucks. But just so you know, you're robbing me blind here." He finishes, with a grin and a blush across his face when he brings the cigarette to his lips.

The moment in the woods with Eddie helped me surive the rest of my classes and made me ready to set Steve straight at work.

"Steve, he is not that bad." I tell him grabbing my time card out of the stack.

"Who?" He asks, glancing up from the computer.

"Eddie." I tell him scrunching my eyebrow, because who else would I be talking about?

"Whatever you say." He shakes his head, tying away on the keyboard.

"So does that mean you got your stuff?" Steve asks, looking up to me as I peak over from the side of him to watch him check accounts for past due movies.

"No, but I did talk to him. We're supposed to meet at his place tomorrow." I shrug, watching him mark an account with a late charge.

"Meeting at his place huh?" Steve teases, playful smirk on his face as I bump my hip against his shoulder.

"Stop it's not like that, plus I don't do relationships. I learned that after my freshman year." I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You do know you don't have to be in a relationship for stuff to happen right?" He asks, eyes meeting playfully with mine.

"Steve, we aren't close enough yet for you to tease me like this. Now stop before I do go back to having my murderous stare." I laugh, giving him another small shove.

"I was just saying." He shrugs, going back to typing away.

The next day and a half went by fast as I waited in anticipation for meeting with Eddie.

Pulling into the Munson's drive, I felt more nervous now than I had felt about starting school.

It felt different being here than being out in the woods with him since now I knew he wasn't a dick like some of the drug dealers I had in the past.

Walking up to the door I take a deep breath as I knocked, praying to god Eddie would be the one to answer.

A few moments after my fist met the door, it opens to reveal a smiling Eddie.

"Hey, you made it, come on in." He tells me, extending his arm out into the home.

"Why wouldn't I?" I ask him, taking a step inside.

All the mugs scattered on the walls catches my eye as I scan over them. Turning towards him with a raised brow, I smile watching him redden up a bit.  

"Yeah sorry about that, they're my uncle's. It's just me and him here, but don't worry he's already gone for work. And uh, I was worried you might have decided against meeting here." Eddie tells me, leading me to the kitchen.

"But anyway, my stuff is on the counter over here." He motions to the counter where a scale and a jar sat.

I watched as he set the scale, weighting the product to measure it out.

"You want to take a look?" Eddie asks taking a step back so I could read the scale.

"Eddie that's a little more than a half?" I turn towards him to see him nodding lightly.

"Consider it a gift for being a first time buyer." He winks, going to bag it up for me.

"Can I just give you $20 then, you're already giving me a great deal." I beg digging into my purse for the money before holding it out to him.

"I told you 15 yesterday so it's 15."He shakes his head, pushing away the 20.

"That was for a half though, and this clearly isn't a half." I argue holding the bag he gives me, feeling bad because he gave me two more grams than he was supposed to on top of the deal he was already giving me.

"Sweetheart, it's fine I promise you." Eddie reassures me, as I feel my cheeks redden at the nickname.

"Whatever you say Eddie." I sigh, going to grab a 10 and a 5 to complete the transaction.

Eddie walks me to back to the front door, his hand resting in his back pocket.

"Thank you for this, it should last me a while." I tell him, tapping my purse.

"It's no problem really, thank you for coming to me." He smiles, freehand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well it's kind of late, I should probably be heading home." I trail, looking around nervously, not wanting to intrude.

I'm about to reach the doorknob as Eddie interrupts.

"Unless you want to stay for a little while?" He asks, causing me to turn back around.

"We could watch a movie and match joint for joint?" He offers as my thumb plays with the strap of my purse while I contemplate staying.  

I don't usually hang out with people, let alone smoke with other people, especially more than once.

But he doesn't seem to be a horrible person to be around, and I probably will be seeing him for a good amount of the next year.

"Okay." I nod, watching Eddie's face light up.

We sat there watching something that was playing on TV, surrounded in thick smoke as we passed the joint back and forth. Bodies naturally getting closer with each pass we do.

"So what do you do in your free time? Other than smoke obviously?" Eddie asks me, pulling my attention away from the movie.

"Oh um, I mostly work or just do homework. Like I said the other day, I've been dreaming of college so I mostly just focus on that." I tell him, blowing out smoke.

"I wish I could say the same for me, this is my third year as a senior. My GPA is like less than 1 if that's even possible." He admits to me, a nervous laugh following as I give him the joint.

I watch him take a hit, feeling shy to look over after sharing the information.

Leaning in a bit more, I rest my hand on his freehand.

"Hey, at least you're here. There's many people who would of gave up after failing the first time. Plus everyone has their own speed, life isn't a race to win." I smile softly, Eddie's brown eyes moving to meet mine.

"Plus, if you ever need help you could just ask me." I tell him, feeling my eyes glimmer.

"Thank you." He nods before opening his mouth again.

"I actually really think this is my year." Eddie tells me smiling slightly, causing me to laugh lightly in response.

"Yeah?" I grin at him.

"Yeah," He nods, giving my hand a light squeeze.

Seeing through the cloudiness in my brain, I realize we're still holding hands after a few moments.

Pulling away, I glance over to the clock by the TV.  

"It's been fun, but I should really get going." I tell Eddie, standing up.

"It is getting late, but I'll see you at school tomorrow right?" He asks, standing up as well.

"Yeah, I'll be there." I nod at him, feeling him watch me gather my things.

"Think you might sit with Hellfire at lunch?" Eddie questions as I start heading towards the door.

Reaching the door I turn around slightly, hand resting on the knob.

"Probably not Eddie, nothing against you or them I promise. I just don't like to make friends, I've lost too many of them over the years." I confess, his face dropping slightly as he nods.

"Well if you ever change your mind, there's always a spot available." He smiles lightly, trying to mask the pain while taking a step forward.

"But really thank you for this Eddie, I really needed it." I tell him truthfully. Taking a step forward before I realize what I'm doing, I find my lips being placed on his cheek.

Pulling away shocked at my actions, I open the door quickly, turning to tell him goodbye.

"I'll see you soon, I promise," I smile, basically running out of his trailer.

It's been a little over a month of me living in Hawkins since that first transaction with Eddie.

School had been decent and working with Robin and Steve had actually been a blessing. I don't know how I would survive there without them.

Eddie and I talk quite a bit actually, sometimes just in passing through the halls. Sometimes before entering lunch as he asks me if I'm sure I didn't want to sit at his table, which I reassure him I'm okay alone especially since I usually work on homework anyway and didn't want any distractions.

Sometimes we just meet up in the woods for a smoke break on days that seem unbearable.

With everything going on with Eddie and the duo at work I've been feeling conflicted and have been questioning everything.

I don't usually allow myself to be so vulnerable with people.

I've had laughs with them, hell have hung out with them all at some point even.

That wasn't who I was when I got here, I hadn't allowed myself to feel for years before moving here.

It has me wondering what was in the air here in Hawkins.

Hell Robin even sits next me in the few classes we have together, leaving me to have a partner when a teacher says to partner up for the first time in years.

I am thankful for her though because she does make school not be as boring.

Exiting our last class for the day, Robin follows me towards my locker.

"What are you doing today on your day off?" She asks as I open the door.

"I have no idea, but I need to talk to Eddie about getting some more.. stuff soon." I whisper quietly motioning to the teachers standing outside their doors.

"On a Friday?" She smirks teasingly.

"Stop, it's not like that." I tell her, rolling my eyes while putting away the books I didn't need.

"Mmmh. Well because of Dustin I know they have Hellfire tonight, but I'm sure Eddie would love meeting up with you after its over, you know late at night." Robin says playfully, leaning against the locker next to mine.

"Robin, I swear to god I will quit our job right now leaving to work with either Steve or Keith alone on all of your shifts." I raise an eyebrow, challenging her to continue.

"Okay, I'll stop but I just think you two would be cute, and I know you two like each other. I can see it." She says holding her books in defense.

"I think you're delusional, plus shouldn't you be leaving to get to work on time since band isn't needed today?" I ask her, packing my backpack.

"Okay, I may be delusional most days but I promise you not on this." Robin laughs, removing her back from the locker.

"And yeah, Steve's probably outside. I'll see you tomorrow night at work though, and make sure you tell me everything that happens." She calls out, turning down to walk towards the exit.

"Nothing is going to happen!" I yell, hearing footsteps approach me on my other side.  

"What's not going to happen?" A curious Eddie asks as I look over.  

"Robin was just being stupid and teasing me about not having anything to do on a Friday since I'm off." I shake my head, throwing my bag over my shoulder while my free hand closed my locker.

"Oh?" He asks, playing with his rings.

"Yeah, but actually would you be free tonight for me to come... visit? I got paid yesterday." I trail off, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Are you already out again?" Eddie chuckles as I redden.

"No but I'm getting close, I don't think you understand how much I uh-consume a day." I chose my words carefully, waving as Mrs. Click walks pass us.

"Would around 8:30/9 work for you? I have hellfire tonight and it's probably going to go on late tonight." He asks.

"Yeah, I'll be there then. Thank you, see you then." I smile, touching his arm before waving goodbye.

I wait till it's closer to nine to leave my house, determining it would be better to arrive later in case he wasn't done as early as he thought.

Pulling into his driveway I see his van parked and Eddie waiting on the porch for me, smoking a cigarette.

"How was your campaign?" I ask climbing out of my car as he stands up.

"It actually went really well, how was having some free time for once?" Eddie teases while I make my way to the porch.

"Actually I uh did homework for most the night, but now I don't have to worry about finishing anything this weekend." I tell him, shrugging slightly, feeling my lips turn up into a smile.

"You're something else (Y/L/N)." He chuckles, opening his door for me.

"Same as usual right?" Eddie asks as I nod.

As he goes to weight it I sit on the couch opening my draw string bag I brought with me.

"Yow know, I um checked this out last night before I left work because in the next couple months everyone's going to want it once the second one comes out. I still haven't gotten around to re-watching it, and really don't want to waste the money I spent renting it?" I explain, waving Nightmare On Elm Street between my fingers.

"Is that your way of asking if I want to watch it with you tonight?" Eddie grins teasingly, walking over to hand me the bag he filled.

"Might be." I laugh, handing him his money and the tape.

"What if I would of been busy tonight?' He questions, humor in his voice as he puts the tape in.

"Then I guess you would of had to cancel." I tell him, raising an eyebrow as Eddie shakes his head making his way towards the couch.

Smoke filled the room while we watched the movie.

Even though I had seen this a few times, I tucked my head against his shoulder throughout different portions of the movie. My high making me jump more than I would usually.

"Scared princess?" Eddie smirks, lighting another joint he had rolled.

"No," I lie, taking the joint from him as he gives me a blank stare.

"I'm not, I'm more like grossed out." I laugh, bringing it to my lips, still leaning onto him with my feet tucked under me.

"Don't like gore?" He asks, watching my mouth pull away from the joint.

"No, not at all." I admit, holding down a cough as his fingers linger longer than usual when I pass him the smoke.

"Then why would you pick a glory movie?" Eddie snorts.

"I didn't remember it being it this bad." I tell him truthfully, feeling his arm wrap around to hold me while he leans forward to ash the joint.

"You know, if you wanted to cuddle with me you could of just asked." Eddie jokes, leaning back to pass it to me.

"I didn't want to cuddle with you." I shake my head in response, inhaling the smoke.

I felt my cheeks start to redden as the air seemed to shift, wondering if there was tension between us or if I was just high and imagining it.

"Babe, you're already are." Eddie laughs, giving my side that he was holding a light squeeze.

"Munson, if I wanted to get under you I wouldn't have had to use a scary movie, that's just more work on my part." I tell him, smirk playing on my lip as I give him the last hit.

"Are you calling me easy?" He asks, eyes gleaming as he inhales the rest before putting it out, strong grip never leaving my side.

"I don't know, are you?" I tease, feeling my heart starting to beat faster at the way he was looking at me.

"Are you trying to find out?" He questions, eyes moving from my lips to my eyes while his hand traces circles on the exposed part of my hip.  

I took a deep breath, resting my hand onto his chest.

"And if I was? What would you do?" I ask batting my eyes lightly, the glimmer of the forgotten movie lighting his face.

"What would you let me do?" He gulps, other hand moving to hold my knee.

"Honestly? Anything." I barely whisper, this time taking my eyes from his to his lips and back.

Taking that as a sign, Eddie leans in gently. His lips brushing against mine as his hand lightly digs into my thigh, both of us holding our breath as our lips meet.

Kissing back slowly, I feel him part his lips lightly against mine. The tenderness of the kiss making me breath heavy as he presses into the kiss a little harder. I feel my hand grip his shirt tighter as my other hand moved to hold the back of his head.

We sit there for a few minutes, lips connecting sweetly as we explore each other's mouths. His tongue lightly licking my bottom lip before entering. The feeling of his hair between my fingers made me moan as he ran his tongue against mine, a little rougher than how he had been kissing me.

Not removing my mouth from his, I lift myself up slightly so I can slide onto his lap. Straddling him, I feel his hands move to hold the tops of my thighs as I slowly rock my hips against his. The kisses start to get a little heavier as I start pulling his jacket off his chest, biting his lip lightly between kisses.

I felt like I never wanted this moment to end, the taste of weed and cigarettes taking up my taste buds as I slide my tongue against his. Eddie groans against my mouth, his hands roaming up underneath my shirt to hold me close.

Pulling away I felt my chest feeling like my heart was about to burst through my shirt.

"Eddie?" I ask him, resting my forehead against his.

"Hm?" He hums at me, breathing as heavily as I was.

"If you want this, then that's all this will ever be. Nothing more, and I'm okay with it if you are but I just needed you to know in case you thought this was something else." I tell him watching him take in the information as I pull back slightly.

"If you don't want to do that then we can forget this ever happened." I continue nervously, loosening up my grip on his shirt.

Eddie licks his lips lightly as I held my breath. In reality it had only been a few seconds but the cloudiness of my mind made it feel like forever.

"(Y/N), I'm okay with this if you are." He reassures me, hands moving to hold my hips as he looked at me deeply.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to do something you don't actually want to do." I ask, watching as he groans teasingly.

"God, why won't you listen to what I say?"  Eddie laughs, moving to lay me down on the couch beneath him.

Climbing over me, I smile as he hovers above my face.

"When I say I'm okay with something, I'm okay with it. Doesn't matter if it's this, giving you more weed, or anything. If I said it's okay, then it's okay." Eddie tells me, smile playing on his lips.

"Okay." I nod biting my lip as he leans down to connect his with mine again.

Pulling away he starts kissing on my neck, hands running beneath my shirt to pinch my nipples lightly causing me to gasp underneath him.

"Now, let me make you feel good." Eddie breaths against me, licking a sensitive spot on my neck.

"Okay," I nod, eyes closed as I whimper at the feeling of his rough tongue against my neck. The coolness of it soothing the hash bites and nips he trails across it.

"Good, because you deserve to relax princess." He tells me, tongue connecting with my ear lobe, as my shoulder tenses in response.

"Uh, uh. Sweetheart, lets see you loosen up." He tsks, biting my lobe, causing me to cry out beneath him as I take a deep breathe in hopes of relaxing my body.

"Good girl sweetheart, how about we get these pants off?" Eddie praises, pulling up to unbutton my jeans.

Hooking his long fingers with the inside of the pants, he pulls them down completely along with the purple lace panties I had wore tonight.

"Aw did you expect something to happen tonight sweetheart?" He teases, tossing them to the floor.

"No, but I wore them in case." I admit, breathing hitching as he licks up my thigh. His mouth  leaving small bites while one of his hands moved to sperate my legs. Pulling it over on to his shoulder.

A gasp slips my lips when Eddie takes his tongue lightly between my folds, licking softly.

One of my hand move to hold his hair as he dives in, tongue meeting my clit as he slowly circles around it.

"Hold as tightly as you need baby." Eddie tells me, taking one hand and tracing his finger up and down slowly before slipping it inside of me. As I arche my back in response feeling Eddie smirk against me.

Matching speed with his finger, he flicked his tongue against my clit while he pumped his finger in and out of me leaving me moaning beneath him.

Taking my freehand I move to lift up my shirt, feeling Eddie help me slide it up with his other hand.

Pitching my nipple I look down to make eye contact with Eddie as he moans against me, brown eyes shinning towards mine.

He adjusts himself so he can support himself up and pay attention my other nipple while my hand holds his hair.

Feeling that usual squeeze in my stomach, I cry out feeling him add another finger.

The feeling of his mouth licking and sucking lightly on my clit driving me wild as the edges of his rings press inside of me when he curls his fingers, pumping them in and out.

"Come on princess, let yourself go. It's okay to relax," Eddie mumbles against me.

"I feel you tensing beneath me. Just breathe okay? Let yourself cum all over me." He assures me before diving back into pleasing me.

Nodding, I take a deep breath, allowing my body to feel the pleasure coming from all directions.

Eddie speeds up a little bit. Fingers pumping faster as his tongue rubs against my clit at the same pace.

"I'm getting close Eddie." I cry out, leaning forward more as he hums against me, bringing his eyes back to mine.

I feel the usual wave of emotion hit my body as I unwind all over him, screaming out his name as he rides out my high on his mouth and fingers.

He pulls fingers out of me, bringing them to my mouth which I opened up obediently for him, licking and sucking on them while he licks me clean below.

"Such a good girl baby." Eddie smirks, pulling away from me as he wipes his mouth clean.

"Think you're ready for me? Or do you need a moment?" He asks, sitting up to undo his jeans.

"I'm ready for you." I nod, leaning forward to help him pull them down as his cock springs up.

"You're just full of many surprises aren't you Munson?" I smirk, leaning forward to lick up his long shaft, hearing him groan from the friction.

"Sweetheart as much as I would love to see what that mouth could do, I almost came while taking care of you." Eddie chuckles, hand going underneath my chin to stop me  when I tried to go back down on him.

Nodding I sit up, pulling my shirt off completely as he pulls his off over his head as well.

Climbing on to him I position him below me, moving down slowly as his hands grip my hips harshly.

"Fuck (Y/N), you feel so fucking good wrapped around me baby." Eddie breathes, face scrunching up in pleasure as he bottoms out into me.

"You're so big Eddie, stretching me out completely." I tell him, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I rock against him.

The feeling of his huge cock hitting my cervix makes me whimper as I started to lift and roll my hips against his.

Leaning forward I attach my mouth to his Adam's apple that he had exposed while being a moaning mess beneath me.

I bite the area lightly, letting my nails dig into his chest while I worked on his neck.

"Fuck baby, just like that." Eddie groans, making me moan as I feel the vibrations through his neck while I licked and sucked all over him.  

I whimper feeling him adjust below me as he starts pounding into me while I work my hips down.  

Moving his head so his lips meet mine, I moan into the kiss, tongue sliding against his as I struggled to hold myself still against him. All the movement from both us making me cry out as I felt my stomach starting to turn again.

Feeling Eddie let go of one side of me, I feel my body shutter when his thumb meets my clit, rubbing a circular motion as we both chased to find our highs.

Eddie moves his other hand to hold my throat, making me look straight at him as he pounds up into me.

"Come on baby, you can do it. " He mutters, leaning down to bite my collarbone.

"Let yourself cum for me again baby, just remember to breathe okay?" Eddie orders bringing kisses to my jaw.

I feel my airway tightening as he brings his mouth towards my neck and ear, licking and sucking making me want to scream as I try my hardest to breathe through the stimulation at hand.

"Cum for me princess, cum all over my cock." He whispers.

Taking a deep breathe I cry out feeling my stomach twist, knowing I was done for.

"Eddie, I'm cumming. Fuck." I let out, feeling him not stop his motions as I ride out my orgasm.

Once I was done I felt Eddie twitch inside me, warm liquid pooling as his thrusts got sloppier.

Pulling off of him, I lay down onto the couch, not being able to breathe.

Eddie gets up tiredly, walking to find me a cloth get get cleaned up with.  

"Do you want to stay the night?" Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he hands me my clothes. Shaking my head, I go to pull my shirt over my head.

"Eddie I can't, I told you what this was going to be. That's going out of territory." I sigh, standing up to put on my bottoms.

"Come on just this once, it's late and you're still a little stoned. We smoked more that usual and  I don't want to risk you getting hurt." He pleads, grabbing my hand to pull me towards him.

I sigh, looking up into his eyes while pressed against his chest, knowing he was right.

"Only this one time Munson, I swear." I tell him, watching his eyes light up the few inches above mine.  

It didn't end up being that one night only.

It's been a few more months since that night and I have spent the night at least one time every weekend, breaking my own rule because I couldn't say no to those big doe eyes.

It had became ritual to hook up either before school or after school, (sometimes even during school,) at least once a day.

Robin and Steve have teased me, especially the day after the first night because it looked like I had been mauled by a bear by the time I had gotten to work the next day.

But they say I look happier, which I shrug off because there wasn't any reason for me to be happier. We were just two people hooking up.

At least we were supposed to be.

But not long after, things started to go into a territory it shouldn't have.  

It started off with small things, Eddie leaving notes in my locker. Sometimes leaving hand picked flowers in my drivers side for me to find after school.

Hell he even brought me lunch at work a few times, trying to pass it off that it was because Dustin wanted to visit Steve.

With every action I would ask him if he was okay with what we're doing, scared he wasn't. But he would always say he was fine with our arrangement, it was my fault I listened.

It wasn't that I didn't like how Eddie was treating me, to be honest I was shocked most the time because I had never had anyone do the things he's done.  

The last time I had fully dated anyone was my freshman year and we promised each other to still talk over the summer and see about me coming down to visit. But before I was supposed to visit I found out he had started hooking up with the girl who was supposed to be my best friend.

After that I swore I wasn't going to date again, or make friends, just leave things casual with me and anyone.

Which is why I wasn't sure how casual it was with me laying in Eddie's arms cuddling with him on a Friday night after hooking up for probably the millionth time.

I felt his fingers run up and down my arm as my eyes grew heavy.

"Do you think you could come see me play Tuesday?" He asks out of nowhere causing my eyes to open up wide.

"What?" I question, sitting up slightly to look down at him.

"Would you come see us play Tuesday, it's been months of this and you still haven't came to a show." Eddie tells me, moving to sit up with me.

Holding one of his blankets to my chest, I stand up.

"Eddie, you know I work Tuesdays." I tell him nervously, looking for my clothes on the floor.

"Just ask for the day off." He shrugs, standing up with me.

Grabbing my shirt off the floor, I throw it on.

"Eddie why would I ask for a day off to see you play? We aren't serious enough for me to do that." I ask him, feeling anger starting to take over.

"Not serious enough (Y/N)? Then what the hell have we been doing?" He expresses, raising his voice slightly as I grab my jeans.

"We've been having fun Eddie, and it's not my fault if you couldn't keep your eyes on the agreement we had made." I spit at him, the words hitting him like venom.

"Well I'm sorry for thinking you had started to feel the same way I did." Eddie rolls his eyes,  grabbing his shirt to put on.

"I think we need to end this." I tell him going to grab my purse as he pulls my hand.

"Wait, please don't go." He begs as I take a deep breath, realizing how serious this fight had gotten.

"Eddie, I think I need to leave before you get hurt and your heart gets broken." I whisper, watching his eyes break.

"(Y/N) I don't care if you hurt me, because guess what if you walk out that door my heart is going to break either way. I would rather have whatever this is as long as I can before it does get broken." Eddie admits to me causing my eyes to water, tear slipping down my face.

Shaking him off my arm and wiping away the tears, I start walking towards the door before turning around slightly.

"That's why I have to go Eddie, I couldn't stand to know how much you were hurting and that it was my fault. I might as well leave before it gets worse." I apologize, turning towards the door before rushing out.

Eddie follows me out in his boxers and t-shirt calling out to me, begging for me to stay and fix things.

I ignored his advances pulling out of his drive with tears streaming heavily, seeing  him follow me out into the street, yelling as he watched me drive away.

Getting home I made my parents promise to tell anyone who may show up other than Robin that I wasn't feeling well or accepting visitors.

I called out from work the next two days, knowing Eddie would show up looking for me and I wouldn't be able to handle seeing him.

Robin came by Sunday night after work demanding to know what was going on.

"Tell me what is going on with you? It's not like you to call out one day let alone two in a row." She asks sitting next to me while I sniffle against my pillow, not wanting to look at her.

"I just feel like a bad person. I broke one of my few rules and hurt someone important to me." I tell her, feeling the sympathy radiate off of her.

"Is this about Eddie?" She whispers quietly, bringing her hand to rub my hair.

"Mmh. And god, why do you and Steve have to be so great too? All of you made me break my rules." I sob into my pillow as she laughs lightly, patting my head.

"(Y/N) most rules are meant to be broken at one point or another." Robin tells me as I catch my breath to look at her.

"You don't understand why I have them." I remind her, sitting up slightly as she scoots over.

"Then tell me, and then maybe tell Eddie." She asks as I nod slightly.

"My freshman year I fell head-over-heels for this sophomore,  thought it was love. All that 14-15 year old crap." I laugh lightly as she nods, listening.

"We did everything together, went on dates, car rides, even lost my virginity to him." I continue, playing with my hands nervously.

"And then I moved and we continued talking on the phone for the first month of summer all the time. But then he started missing calls, or getting off the phone earlier than usual. Then when I would try to call my 'best friend' she would be missing calls as well, and that went on for about a month before I was supposed to go down for the fourth of July." I tell her.

"Then what happened?" Robin asks, face in her hand as her arm rests on her knee

"Then a week before I was about to come down Bailey called me crying one night, telling me she was sorry and hated herself. Told me she had started hooking up with Michael a few weeks prior." I sigh, feeling my eyes water as hers widen.

"No way." Robin exclaims as I nod.

"Yeah, and when I confronted Michael he said it was all true. So from there on out I refused to make friends or even try to let someone in." I  finish, feeling her rest her hand on my knee.

"Why didn't you just tell Eddie that? Look I don't know him very well, but I don't think he could ever do that to you, also I think he would understand what that kind of trauma could do to you." Robin reassures me.

"I don't know if I'll ever speak to him again. He deserves better than me, I'm selfish and don't know how to be social since everything. He deserves someone who can match his energy, which isn't me." I tell her, sniffling to hold back tears as she gives me a sympathetic smile.

"Look (Y/N), you clearly care about him. And I know he gives off golden retriever energy once you start talking to him and you're more of a black cat energy kind of girl. But those sometimes are the best combinations." She tells me, smile still holding on her lips.  

"Trust me, I do work in a movie store, so I do know the best couples." She teases softly.

"Do you think you could do me a huge favor?" I ask her as she nods.

"Anything." She agrees.

I spent the next two days avoiding Eddie the best I could. I would turn back down the hall when I saw him walking, would hide in the bathroom telling the teacher's I was having girl problems. Even ate lunch in the my car and parked down the block in case he decided to go see if I was outside.

I had went to work on Monday, and spent most the night in the back putting the newest tapes into the system.

But by the end of the night Steve had said there wasn't any sight of Eddie.

Now I was sitting in my car tapping my fingers nervously as I stared at the little rundown bar in front of me, wondering if I should actually go in.

Robin had agreed to skip band practice this once to take my shift so I could come tonight.

Glancing at the clock I realized it was now and never, and knew if I didn't go in Robin would kill me for making her take my shift.

Walking inside I hear them playing from the corner stage in the bar.

The lights illuminating only the stage and the bar for those wanting drinks.

I take a seat at the bar stool closest to the door, watching as they finished the song.

Eddie looks around at the small crowed who was hooting and hollering before speaking.

"Our last song for the night is a sneak peak of something I'm working on. So far it is unheard of outside of the band, but it's something I've been dealing with recently and it means a lot to me so I hope you all enjoy." He tells the crowd before starting to strum his guitar, fingers moving up and down as the rest of the band seemed to follow.

I watched him play. Seeing his face focus in concentration, tongue peaking out slightly as he worked against the instrument.

His long hair that was usually free was held back by the black bandana that mostly took home in his back pocket.

Pieces of his hair remained free though, peaking out around his face as his arm muscles flexed slightly with every pluck he gave the cords.

I didn't know what to expect when he opened his mouth, I hadn't heard him sing at all yet.

But god when he opened his mouth I thought I was going to die. If I hadn't already fucked him, I would of wanted to right there.

His voice was so raspy and sexy as he sung into the microphone, keeping eye contact with the crowd.

I listened admiring the beauty of him and his words watching him belt out the rest of the lyrics.

"Oh and my love," He sang into the microphone. Lips brushing against the metal as his eyes came to the bar.

"Did I mistake you for a sign from god?" Eddie hums out, his eyes getting pulled to meet mine.

I feel my cheeks redden as he adjusts his guitar, clearly surprised to see me.

I watch him as he continues, not looking away from me.

"Or are you really here to cut me off?" He questions, eyebrow raising slightly, handing moving down the next of his guitar.

"Or maybe just to turn me on?" He teases into the mic, leaning more towards my side of the bar as he gets into his song.

"Cause these days." He continues as I feel different emotions start to run through my body.

"I would be lying if I told you that, I didn't wish that I could be your man." Eddie sings strongly, both hands moving to hold the mic.

"Or maybe make a good girl bad." He sings out breathy as I feel tears start to run down.

Wiping them away I leave, not wanting to be seen crying in the bar.

Wanting to run away from everything I find myself parked at lover's lake, just thinking about my life and the choices I made. Wondering if it was my fault for how miserable it was.

Laying on the hood of my car I smoked, hoping to find some peace while I decided what to do.

Moving to sit in my car I see the time flash as I start it.

10:17pm.

I start my car, not even having a destination in mind as I start to drive.

Just letting my high lead my subconscious as I head down the road.

Which is why I'm not that surprised when I find myself outside of the Munson's trailer.

But Eddie's van was no where in sight, even with how late it was I hoped he would be home at some point soon.  

I opened my car door, lighting a cigarette, listening to music as I waited to the metalhead to get home.

Eddie's P.O.V.

"What do you mean you haven't seen her Robin? She's your friend." I ask her, rubbing my temple feeling a headache starting to form.

"As far as I knew she was supposed to go see you." Robin tells me, loading tapes onto a cart.

"She did, but she left in the middle of a song. It looked like she had started crying." I explain her.

"Why did she start crying? And did you check her house?" Robin questions as I follow behind her.

"Probably because the song was about us, and yes of course I checked her house first. Do you know where else she may be?" I sigh, feeling defeated while she starts loading the sci-fi section.

"I don't really. She is always either at school, work, home, or your house." She shrugs in response.

"Okay, thank you anyway." I tell her, going to head back home in hopes of her calling.  

"Wait Eddie, I think there's something you might want to know about why (Y/N) is the way she is." Robin calls, stopping me.

"What is it?" I ask turning around.

Reader's P.O.V-

I see the van pull up as Eddie's face lights up seeing my car.

Parking next to me, he hops out as I stand up out of my seat.

Eddie takes the first step, walking to wrap his arms around me tightly.

Connecting my body with his, I hold him close. Feeling the tears start to fall down my face as I hug him.

"I'm sorry." I sniffle against his shoulder.

"No it's okay, I'm sorry. I didn't know what you had been through." He shushes me as I pull away slightly, eyes still watering as I look at him confused.

"Don't be mad at Robin, I went to the store looking for you and she told me about what happened your freshman year." Eddie tells me, bringing his hands to wipe away my tears.

"I should of told you before things got this serious." I admit, bringing my hands to hold his wrist as he cradles my face.

"Are we still serious?" Eddie asks hopefully, smiling pulling on his lips as his head tils towards me.

"Do you want to be?" I ask, eyes lighting up as the moonlight danced across his face.

"More than anything." He nods, eyes gleaming down at me.  

"Good, because I want this too." I smile, feeling Eddie bring his lips to mine.

The kiss feeling soft against my lips as he pressed his into mine.

"So does that mean you're going to be my girl?" Eddie smiles, pulling away slightly.

"And you're going to be my man?" I nod happily, referring to the lyrics he sung earlier that night.

Standing up slightly on my the tips of my toes, I connect my lips with his.

Deciding it was okay to be vulnerable with him.

----

If you made it this far just know I LOVE YOU for reading my work even if you didn’t enjoy it. Thank you so much for your time because I know it was long.  

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

Battle of the Bands - Chapter 11

chpt 1 / chpt 2 / chpt 3 / chpt 4 / chpt 5 / chpt 6 / chpt 7 / chpt 8 / chpt 9 / chpt 10 / chpt 11 / chpt 12 / chpt 13 / chpt 14

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Genre: Chrissy doesn't die and Eddie graduates :)), lil bit of fluff, and just the slightest bit of angst, eventual smut

Warnings: basketball players, you meet Robin and Steve for the first official time, mentions of a (false) one night stand, mentions of bullying, Jason Carver

Word Count: 1K

———

It’s the next day and you couldn’t help but wake up when Eddie got ready for work. The absence of weight and warmth behind you instantly woke you from your slumber. He’d apologized, but you told him it was fine, glancing at his window and seeing the sun was just barely lifted above the horizon.

Before Eddie left, he told you that he’d be back around 2-ish and that Wayne was home, but he might sleep/relax all day to be prepared for his shift tonight.

And after Eddie left for his shift and your mind wouldn’t let you go back to sleep, you got up and made some scrabbled eggs and some toast. You’d made more than enough scrambled eggs so you could put them away in tupperware for Wayne later. Then you were officially up and dressed, so you decided to drive around town and stop at the video store Eddie had mentioned that two of his friends worked at. So when you walked in, you were greeted with-

“You! Weren’t you the girl at Eddie’s last night?” A man at the counter ask. He had dark brown, styled hair, about shoulder length. And he was pointed an accused finger at you as he leaned on the counter that encircled the register area for staff working that shift.

“Uhhhh… yeah..,” You stood in the doorway still, like a deer in headlights.

“I told you!” He looked to his companion, a shorter girl with short curly hair. She was pretty, almost in a way that made you speechless.

“How do we know she’s not a one night stand?” She asked

“I’ll ask,” The man turned from his companion to you. “Are you Eddie’s one night stand?”

You sputter before answering, “One night stand? Wait aren’t you the guy that picked up the kids after DnD.”

“How do you know the kids?” The man asked.

“DnD night, obviously. When I arrived at Eddie’s his band was there, and some high school kids there, maybe freshmen?” You told him.

“How’d you meet Eddie?” The girl asked, a little more calm that her companion.

“Battle of the Bands. He went on after me, then I had lunch with his band, and then we competed against each other. We bonded over a lot those weeks, then he offered for me to visit so I did. Well I am. I’m here for this week and then back home I go. He took me out for ice cream yesterday,” You explained to the duo, still not moving from your spot by the door.

“OOOOOHHH!!” The both said, looking at each other before whipping their heads back at you.

“So you’re Y/n,” The man said. “I couldn’t believe it when Eddie said he met a girl, never mind you visiting. I think when I came by for movie night/DnD night Eddie was on a call with you or something.”

“Yeah!”

“Not gonna lie, we all thought Eddie was lying when he said he met you, or that you might come,” The girl said.

“Is he that bad with the ladies?” You ask.

“Well… as Hawkins local drug dealer..,” She trails off.

“Ah,” You nod. “Gotcha gotcha. So not the most attractive when it comes to common folk.”

The duo shake their heads.

“I’m Robin,” The girl holds out a hand.

You walk forward and take it, realizing how comfortable you’d gotten with the pair in your interrogation.

“And this is my side chic, Steve.”

Steve shakes your hand before looking wildly at Robin, “Side chic?!?! Is that all I am to you?”

“Yes,” She says bluntly. “Anyways, it’s nice to have another girl around, even if it’s just for a little while. Are you staying for movie night?”

“When is it?” You ask.

“Every Friday.”

“Yeah, I’m staying.”

“Good,” She pauses. “Top three movies, go!”

“Uhhhh…,” You pause, not used to being on the spotlight so quick. “The Goonies, Ghostbusters, and Back to the Future.”

“Not a horror fan?” Robin asks.

“Depends on the movie,” You tell her, leaning on the counter

“Just so you know, Eddie loves horror movies. We always have to watch one or two when we have movie night as he place,” Robin tells you.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You tell her.

Robin hops up to sit on the counter, legs facing the inside of the register confines, but before Steve can protest and before you two can start a conversation, the doors to Family Video burst open and a plethora of voice interrupt the otherwise empty and quiet store.

You observe the group, made of of men, as they disperse into pairs around the store. They all look around your age or younger. They’re dressed in blue jeans and green and white lettermen, donning the school name, their last names, and their achievements this year. You piece together some scattered pieces and your brain suggests that these kids must be friends with that guy that interrupted you and Eddie’s ice cream not-date.

“I saw one of them yesterday,” You tell Robin. “Who are they?”

Steve walks to stand close to you and Robin, eyeing the men, “The varsity basketball team.”

“They’re the kind of kids who peaked in high school,” Robin adds. “Hell, half of them graduated this year and they still talk like they’re gonna play next year with the high school.”

You only hum, all three of you eyeing the group as they all join together again and make their way up to the counter. The guy up front is one you recognize as the one who tried to flirt with you.

Steve moved to stand behind the register.

“Stevie,” The man sets the movies on the counter.

“Carver,” Steve practically spits out, ringing up the movies.

“So you leave me to come hang with Buckley instead?” Carver smirks, eyeing you.

You stand up straight, glancing to the side at Robin. And Robin hops down from the counter.

“Oh don’t be like that, sweetheart,” He practically purrs.

“Don’t you have some school supplies to shop for, kid?” You use the nickname that rubs him the wrong way again.

“UGH- I-“ You’ve stumped him again. “I’ve already graduated!!”

“You sure? Maybe from like sophomore year, yeah?” You prod.

“Well! Uh! Don’t come crying to me when The Freak tries to sacrifice you!” The former basketball star spits out.

“I didn’t deem you as the sacrificing type, but whatever floats your boat, kid,” You shrug, watching for a reaction.

“I-I’m not The Freak!!” He cries.

You only look at him.

“$20.30, Carver,” Steve tells him, blank face, but amusement dances in his eyes.

Carver slaps a $40 on the counter, fumbling with the movies, “Keep the change.” And he’s bumping past whomever is coming into the store.

“He’s the one I had a bump in with at the ice cream parlor,” You tell Steve and Robin when they face you.

“Yeah, he’s their little ring leader or whatever,” Robin rolls her eyes. “He’s so annoying though, like not everyone’s gonna fuck you, Carver.”

“Carver, again??” A voice says from over by the entrance. “Almost knocked me on my ass.”

All three of you look over to see a slightly greasy Eddie Munson. He looks like he did his best to clean himself off with a paper towel and sink water.

“So you’ve met our local duo?” Eddie asks you, slinging an arm around your shoulder, something that Steve and Robin both eye.

“Yeah!” You smile at him. “Apparently I’m your one night stand, yeah?”

Eddie whips his head towards the two, and they shoot straight up. Both of their hands are up in defense.

“Yeah, they didn’t believe me when I said I met you,” Eddie mumbled. “Nor when I told them you might visit.”

“I’ve noticed,” You bump Eddie a bit, winking.

“Are we still doing movie night at my place?” Eddie asks Steve and Robin.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms. “El’s coming. Max told her you have cats.”

“Oh yes, El and animals,” Robin sighs, a soft smile on her face.

“That’s fine,” Eddie shrugs. “I’ll have to remember to get more treats so the girls can spoil them. Mama’s got kittens too now, they’re the cutest. Maybe when they’re bigger and weaned off Mama, y’all can take one?”

Steve shrugs, “Everyone knows I need something to keep my company.”

"Absolutely," Robin nods, a big smile blooming on her face.

"Alright, hopefully I can get them socialized enough in time," Eddie tells them, glancing at the clock behind the duo. "Alright kids, I gotta get home and shower, you coming?"

He's looking at you.

"Yeah," You nod

And with that, you and Eddie bid Steve and Robin a farewell. You follow Eddie home in your own van and quickly get settled in Eddie's room while he goes off and takes a shower. You look around, laying on his bed, eyes flickering to and fro the posters covering all four walls of his room. You barely register Eddie walking into the room, aware of his presence once he plops down onto the bed beside you, guitar in his lap and plugged into the amp on the side of Eddie's bed.

"So...," You trail, interrupting Eddie's tuning. "The basketball players?"

"Horrible people, really," Eddie answers your unspoken question, not looking away from the head of the guitar where he turns the pegs to get the strings to just the right sounds. "A bunch of bullies and pervs, except Lucas. He's the only exception."

"Sounds like they suck," You tell him.

It's silent for a moment before Eddie speaks up.

"Once I hit my first senior year, the then basketball players started bullying me, then the others just followed suit. But this last year was the worst year of it, Jason seemed to know how to push all my buttons," Eddie explained, still not looking at you. "He even pushed ones I didn't even know I had."

You nod in response, even though Eddie can't see you, "I'll punch him for you."

You say the sentence oh so casually, contrasting Eddie's surprise that flicks in and out of his eyes, barely noticeable for the few seconds the emotion popped up.

"Really?" The metalhead looks at you now, an endearing smile on his face.

"Absolutely," You tell him, sincerity in your voice. "Nothing would make me happier."

Eddie only laughs at you, turning back towards his guitar.

The conversation fades out, replaced by the soft melodies of Eddie's experienced fingers. You could feel yourself relax more and more with every note, practically sinking into his bed.

———

Taglist: @calizmor

[lyndiscealin]

I posted 393 times in 2022

32 posts created (8%)

361 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@paradoxolotl

@anfae

@imperfectcourt

@24-0z

@blogaboutyafavbirdboys

I tagged 66 of my posts in 2022

#aftg - 19 posts

#neil josten - 12 posts

#andreil - 11 posts

#andrew minyard - 10 posts

#all for the game - 6 posts

#writing - 5 posts

#vampire andrew - 3 posts

#fanfic writers - 3 posts

#writerscommunity - 3 posts

#writerscorner - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 100 characters

#andrew: tunnels neil. they will dig tunnels under important buildings. there won't be light. keep up

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Andrew Minyard, Jeremy Knox, Laila Dermott, Alvarez (All For The Game) Additional Tags: Trojans - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, AFTG Winter Exchange 2021, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Alternate Universe Summary:

Andrew never left California and ended up with the Trojans instead of the Foxes. This is just a peak at his life with them.

--

My @aftgexchange gift for the Winter Exchange 2021 for @ebbatriestowrite

I hope you like it

16 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

#4

Belletristica

Hi!

Today I want to introduce you to my most treasured writing plattform! It just got it's proper integration for the english community (it's originally an Austrian plattform), so I am finally able to promote it!

Belletristica is different from anything you know so far. It's especially neither Wattpad nor AO3, it's something completely on it's own.

While a writing plattform, Belletristica is also a fictional world. You don't need to engage with the lore of that world, but I would lie if I'd say it isn't engaging and fascinating.

In this world you can collect Fairy Dust through posting stories, commenting them and engaging with the community in multiple chats and groups.

You can find treasures and crafting materials and after a long day of exploring you can sit down in the local Tavern to meet old and new friends.

One of the most precious things for me is the moderation of the site. Lead by the fearless Fairy Khaeli, the Order of Knights watches over the Kingdom to ban trolls and spamers and to help the good Belletristicans resolve their infighting. They are strict but fair. Every case is looked at individually and they are not afraid to ban someone, if they won't stop wreaking havoc in the community.

You are safe here.

See the full post

18 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

#3

The most important plothole in AFTG:

Riko + Kevin are the perfect strikers

Neil + Jean were supposed to be the perfect backliners

Andrew would have been #5 as the perfect goalie.

Who was supposed to be the perfect Dealer??? And would there have been 2 of them? One Offensive and one Defensive dealer?

We will never know and it makes me very sad

56 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#2

Hey fandom Tumblr! We need your help over at twitter or by direct message over their site.

This is about The Storygraph. We got them to listen to us, but I think we need more voices here.

This is the tweet: https://twitter.com/thestorygraph/status/1518302585219956738?s=20&t=KFf3u_aA1-yAfp-sn3XPYg

Help us tell them that it is not okay to ignore the wishes of the author. Honestly it's also a very shitty thing to ignore published authors. Not taking Fanfiction down, though, is actively harming the fandom.

If you don't have a twitter account, you can also write them directly over their website https://app.thestorygraph.com/terms-of-service The 'Contact Us' Widget is in the bottom right corner.

Please reblog this so it can get some traction!

(resolved for now, thank you!)

61 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

One of the things I like about AFTG is that Neil is not portrayed as this super talented player who safes the day. He right out sucks at the beginning. Instead it is shown that he is working himself into the ground to get better. He lives and breathes Exy for the first half year in the books. He is the main character but he is not the best player on the team.

Instead he is the one who just brings the team to work together.

In the end he is not a bad Player anymore and I am not sure if his learning curve is realistic, I never played a sport even halfway professionally.

And though he isn't a bad player, he is still not the best on the field. Andrew is better than him, Kevin is better and Seth probably would have been better as well. Pretty sure Matt also has better stats than Neil has.

AND Kevin is the one who scores the winning goal against the Ravens. (and probably most of the other goals in that game).

I love this. Neil is the one who made this win possible, Neil is the one who learned the most inside of the year, but he isn't the best player on the field in the end. He might be in the future, he probably will (or at least he will be second to Kevin).

And Neil getting better is not some magical thing that just happens. It probably looks like 'he has so much talend' to the outside world, where in reality he is just overly dedicated and his life told him how to be perceptive as hell.

I just.. like that :D And wanted to share this with you. I like that at the end Kevin beats Riko and Neil beats him as well, just as a backliner. It's a very cool (and super dramatic and tbf a bit unrealistic) resolution of all the conflicts in the book.

133 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[nerdy-bookworm-1998]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Words: 1607 Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Drugging, Mentions of assassinations, Implied human trafficking, one swear word A/N: This is part of my 25 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge. For those that are interested, I still have 18 request spots available. Just send me a request for what you would like me to write along with the character. I will write for Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Legolas, Thranduil, and Kili. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. If you want to be tagged in future works, just drop me an ask.

With less than a week left until Christmas Eve, the compound is silent. Steve had been gone on a recon mission in Stuttgart since just after Thanksgiving. The rest of the team were all spending time with their loved ones all over the country. I had just settled in for a Game of Thrones binge-session when Friday announces that my presence is required in the briefing room.

With a long-suffering sigh, I haul myself up from the couch and shuffle over to the elevators that would take me out of the living quarters and to the floor where all the offices, interrogation, and conference rooms are. After a short ride and even shorter stroll, I reach the right door and enter without bothering to knock.

At the front of the room stands Maria Hil, Tony, and Nick Fury. They all look up from where they are bent over a hologram when I enter. "Agent 19, you're right on time. Please, have a seat," Nick says, pointing to the chairs around the table. I take the one closest to the front.

"What is this about?" I enquire.

"What do you know about Kevin Ivanovich?" Maria asks, getting straight to the point.

"He's a former KGB operative working out of Moscow. He's responsible for the assassination of over 30 SHIELD agents, but we've never been able to catch him," I recall from the stories Nat and Clint had told me.

"We've received a tip-off from local intelligence that Mr. Ivanovich will be crawling out of his hiding place for a holiday gala hosted by Borris and Elena Makaveli. It also just so happens to be a cover for a silent auction on everything from advanced weaponry to enhanced individuals. We already have agents in place to take down the auction. But Ivanovich is known for escaping the net, no matter how tight it is. Which is where you come in," Maria explains as she hands me the folder with all relevant information. "We need you to go to Moscow, posing as the daughter and heir of a wealthy American arms-dealer, standing in for her father at the auction. We need you to charm him, get him to trust you by helping him escape the party, let his guard down. Once it is, we need you to drug him and take him to the American embassy, where I will be waiting to transport him to the Raft. Do you have any questions?"

"Yeah, I have a few questions. What is the name of my alias? How am I getting to Russia? How am I getting into the party? And when do I leave?" I ask, crossing my legs.

"The informant sent over an invitation for you. I'm loaning you a private jet with a crew that will take you directly to Moscow Sheremetyevo International Airport, where a car and driver will be waiting for you. You leave in the next two hours. We thought you could pick out your alias yourself," Tony answers with his usual flamboyancy.

Once the meeting is over, I head directly to my room. I pick a large suitcase to store my clothing, toiletries, and accessories for the trip. I choose a smaller, matching case to hold my favorite knives and guns. Finally, I go to the safe in the back of my closet. Inside are several manilla envelopes with the names of my various aliases written on top. After several moments of contemplation, I take out the envelope bearing the name Alexandra Gilbert and toss it onto my bed before going back into my closet to change.

A pair of white-washed skinny jeans, a red cashmere sweater, knee-high black leather boots trimmed with faux fur, and a faux fur coat later, I'm mission ready.

A short car ride, a nine-hour-long flight, and another car ride through peak-hour traffic, I am checked into a luxurious suite at the St. Regis hotel (generously paid for by Stark Industries).

The next evening, after a day of tourist-related activities, I am dressed in a burgundy colored evening gown with golden stilettos and accessories as I ascend the steps of the Bolshoi Theatre. The guards at the entrance take a cursory glance at my invitation before directing me on where to go.

Once inside, it is easy enough to find my mark and strut over to where he is seated at the bar. After ordering a drink and an hour of flirting, one of Ivanovich's men walks over to whisper in his ear. He gives a short nod before turning back to me with a simpering smile. "It would seem the main attraction of the evening is about to start. Would you like me to escort you, gorgeous?" he asks in his thick Russian accent.

"I would be honored, handsome," I answer with a coy smile, hooking my arm through his as he leads me across the room and to a side door, hidden behind a curtain. We walk down a long hallway, my heels clicking on the polished marble floor until we reach a large, dome-shaped room filled with people dressed in their finest suits and dresses milling about the room as they peruse the items up for auction.

We had already circled the room twice when a guard bursts in shouting that SHIELD was on their way just before a flashbang went off and people dressed in black tactical gear flooded into the room.

"Follow me!" I yell at Ivanovich, pulling him behind me to the hidden door along the wall closest to us, then through another series of hallways until we reach outside of the building where a car was waiting for us.

Once in the car, I hand him a glass of vodka, which he downs immediately. Barely five minutes have passed before he is slumped over in his seat, snoring loudly. I direct the driver to turn around and drive to the American Embassy while I put Ivanovich in a pair of vibranium handcuffs, then turn to look out at the snowstorm raging outside the window.

After Maria had taken custody of the Raft's newest guest, I head back to my hotel room to change clothes, pick up my bags, and make for the airport. I had called ahead to tell the captain to get the plane ready for departure. However, when I get to the airport, all flights had been delayed indefinitely due to the storm.

With a disheartened sigh, I find a cafè and buy myself a large hot chocolate and a croissant. Sitting at a small table in the corner, I take out my phone and unlock it, staring at the picture of Steve and I with our arms wrapped around each other at Tony's Halloween party last year. We had gone as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. I briefly contemplate calling him to let him know I probably wouldn't be back in time for Christmas before a voice opposite me draws my attention.

"Excuse me, miss, but is this seat taken?" says the one voice I would recognize anywhere. Whipping my head up, I'm face to face with Steve. He looks angelic, bundled up in a blue and white sweater with a white t-shirt and light wash jeans with boots, his cheeks, and nose a rosy red from the cold wind outside.

"Steve!" I squeal as I hop out of my seat to throw myself into his arms.

"Hey, gorgeous," he grins as he wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbles.

"Language, cap," I tease while burying my face in his chest, breathing in the smell of home. After several long moments of just quietly standing together, I hesitantly pull back far enough to see his face. "I don't understand what are you doing in Russia of all places? I thought you would be home by now."

"Well, by the time the mission was over, the storm had already closed down the airport where I was supposed to take off. The guy at the office told me I might have better luck getting a flight at a larger airport. I was planning on grabbing a coffee before trying my luck at one of the airline desks when I saw you sitting here. What are you doing here?" he asks, delicately cupping my cheek as if to check that I'm real.

"I had a mission here. I was supposed to be a tourist, so Tony let me borrow one of his private jets. I was about to go home, but the plane was grounded because of the storm," I explain.

Over the next few hours, we sit in the cafè, sipping hot chocolate and just talking while we wait for the storm to pass. It's nearly midnight when I get a call from the pilot that they had been cleared to fly. Grabbing our luggage, Steve and I make a mad dash for the plane. Once we're on board, the stewardess closes the door and helps us get settled before telling the pilot that everything is ready for takeoff.

We reach New York just as the sun is starting to set. Happy is at the airstrip to pick us up and take us back to the compound, where the rest of the team and their loved ones are already gathered, for dinner.

When we stroll into the dining room hand in hand, Tony cheers, "The lovebirds are back! Now Capsicle can carve the turkey so we can eat," he grins while the rest laugh, and we take our seats at the table filled with our family.

Tags:

@mcdesij @spiderrrling @arrow-guy @interestedbystanderwrites @caplanreads @gwendelerynan @here2have-fun @bookscoffeeandracoons @bambamwolf87 @loricameback @rockrchick51 @love-nakamura @baebeepeach @timelordy-fangirl2 @jewelofwinter @caramell0w @jewels2876 @ladysergeantbarnes @notawritergettingtherethough @patzammit @fanfictionjunkie1112 @lumar014 @kirstie-evans-writes @robertdowneyhiddlesbatch @lil-lex1 @dragonrosegardens @bookgirlunicorn @shadymidge @kaithezaftig @that-place-called-middle-earth @marshyrebelcloud @rebekahdawkins

[artificialqueens]

Control, 1/3 (Katya/Manila) - Dartmouth420

Summary: All it took as the deal went south was a split second, a single gunshot, and then the incredibly stupid, impulsive decision to grab all the coke the guy had on the table and run. Now Katya and Manila need to get rid of a dangerous, truly incriminating amount of cocaine as fast as possible, as they rocket towards rock-bottom in Katya’s 1997 Volvo hatchback. Lesbian AU heist tale, Katya/Manila main, past (plot-relevant) Rajila & Trixya.

A/N: It’s darker and sadder than the summary makes it out to be. This story was inspired by the request for Katya/Manila chaos a few weeks ago, and some Lana Del Rey songs, but it got unhinged and angsty so PLEASE heed the content warnings. but other than that enjoy :)

CW: codependent relationship, drug use, drug addiction, off-screen gun violence, smut, semi-clothed sex, strap-ons, past abusive relationships, angst, unreliable narrator

PS: addiction is a very complex issue, and not something to be taken lightly in real life.

Part 1:

She doesn’t mind I have a flat broke-down life

In fact she says she thinks it’s what she might like about me

Admires me, the way I roll like a rolling stone

-Lana Del Rey, ‘Off To The Races’

It’s the cocaine, obviously.

Katya knows the cocaine is what’s fuelling these decisions. It’s not her fault.

The knowledge hadn’t stopped her from accompanying Manila anyway, as what was supposed to be their deal on enough coke to fuel a big party this weekend had gone sour and scary, and the guy had reached behind him for the gun in his waistband. But Manila had been faster, she’d pulled her piece out of her purse and shot the guy in a sudden explosion of noise.

On the couch in the living room in Manila’s tiny apartment, Katya rubs some coke onto her gums, and presses her fingers to her temples in an attempt to calm herself. Manila paces back and forth in front of the coffee table while Katya tries not to think about the shock in the dealer’s eyes, and his tattooed arm grasping at the bullet wound in his shoulder as he fell back. Is he dead? Maybe. Maybe not.

There are seven single-kilogram bricks of cocaine, one torn open at the corner, sitting in front of them on the coffee table, among the coffee-stained mugs and crumpled McDonald’s bags and the cheap paperback sci-fi novels that Katya likes.

Manila paces with her phone out, and her leather jacket open. She turns on her heel on one end of the stained carpet and makes a call, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Heyyy,” says Manila, drawing out the word.

Someone on the other end shouts Bitch, how did you get this number?! and Manila scrambles, “No wait no, Trinity, hear me out-“

There’s an audible beep, and Manila glares at the phone, angry.

“Okay, okay,” repeats Manila to herself, pacing back and forth, “We can get this under control.”

All the pacing is making Manila’s short dress ride up her thighs, drawing Katya’s eyes. Manila’s legs are easily her best feature. Well, her curly black hair is nice, too. Katya watches her nervously. It isn’t that she’s afraid of her, no, Katya loves her girlfriend. Obviously.

But Manila did just shoot the guy back there.

Katya had shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth, gazing in horror at Manila’s blank, shocked expression. They’d stared at each other for a split second, and then, completely without thinking, Katya had rushed for the drugs that sat on the table next to the man groaning on the floor, shoving the bricks of coke into her purse, Manila had arrived at the table a second later, and they’d rushed out and leapt into Katya’s 1997 Volvo hatchback and sped off as shouts echoed from the abandoned warehouse.

Katya drove like a madwoman back to Manila’s apartment, her scabby knuckles bright white on the steering wheel while in the passenger’s seat next to her Manila dragged in big gulps of air, trembling.

So, yeah. Here they are. Katya had known that Manila had a gun in her purse, just in case, but she hadn’t thought it would… well, come out. Of the purse.

“We need to sell it quick,” says Katya, keeping her voice as calm as possible, despite her rapidly beating heart. In the thrill of panic they’d broken into one of the bricks and done some lines, and were now both a bit twitchy. “We can’t- we can’t sit on this much. Fuck it’s so much money, I could really use it-”

“I know, me too,” replies Manila, taking her phone back out and scrolling. Her movements are rapid, nervous.

Katya glares down at the table, willing her whirring mind to think, and suddenly she misses Trixie. The breakup had been terrible, Katya had yelled and cried and threatened and begged Trixie to stay, but it was well over eight months ago and Katya should be over it. She isn’t. It’s like Trixie took her heart out of her chest when she left, and is still carrying it around with her. Katya has known Manila for a lot longer, from even before she met Trixie, and in the aftermath Manila was well, single (sort of) and there.

Katya has always been incapable of making good decisions. Even alright decisions. But she’s been trying to talk to Trixie again. It’s been going well. She hopes they’ll be back together by the end of the year.

Manila taps her phone, and then hits speaker, and the sound of it ringing echoes around her small apartment. Katya watches her. Manila paces, holding the phone out in her hand.

“Hello?” comes a deep, familiar voice.

“Latrice!” enthuses Manila, all smiles and joviality, “Hey girl, long time no chat!”

“Uh-huh, same to you, what’ve you got going on?”

The mild skepticism in Latrice’s voice is as well-hidden as Manila’s own manic edge. But maybe Latrice would be interested, and she’d buy a chunk of their sudden supply. Katya fidgets on the couch, reaching out and sinking her fingers into one of Manila’s old throw-pillows, the one with the fading print of Bettie Page posing with a whip.

“I’ve got, uh,” says Manila, speaking like she’s consciously trying to slow herself down, still pacing, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I’ve got something you might like to buy.”

“Oh? And what might that be?”

“Ah, just a little something for a good time.”

“How much have you got?”

Latrice’s voice remains cautious-friendly, and Katya gets her hopes up for a second. Latrice is a local club owner, large-and-in-charge, friendly and easy-going, and primarily a legitimate business woman. But she sometimes dabbles in other kinds of purchases. Like they all do.

“Yeah, uh, a little more than I thought…” says Manila smoothly, with a chuckle, like it’s all a big joke. “Seven kilos.”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“Latrice?”

“I’m still here,” replies Latrice, but her tone is now suspicious, reticent.

“Mm,” says Manila, nodding to herself, “Okay, so you’re interested? Think you want to buy a brick? Or two?”

“Two kilos? Girl.”

“Don’t say it like that, you know how these things happen,” says Manila rapidly, trying to smooth it over.

“Seven kilos of coke doesn’t just happen, Manila.”

“Look we need to sell it fast-“

“You always need something, don’t you.“ Latrice’s tone is unimpressed, annoyed. "How many favours have I done for you over the years, and how many times have you disappeared when I needed you to have my back? See this is your problem-“ They’d all been good friends once, recalls Katya. Champagne and glitter and birthdays and club music and VIP lounges. Perhaps not so much anymore. “I don’t even want to know, I’m not getting involved-“

“Just let me expl- no- don’t you dare hang up on me!”

There’s a beep and the call drops.

Katya stands up, and walks the short few steps to the kitchen, chewing at her lip. Her gums are going numb. Who does she know that could buy this amount of stolen cocaine and very, very fast? She scrolls through her mental list of contacts and stares at the counter, at the crumbs brushed to the backstop.

“Well that sucks, why am I the one calling everybody-” mutters Manila from the living room, and then says louder, “Okay, okay, this isn’t a big deal. We’ve got choices, we’ve got options.”

Manila paces the living room again, tapping at her lips with her finger.

“What if we parcel it out and sell it at the club tonight?” suggests Katya, wriggling her hips as she bends over to look in the fridge, before glancing over her shoulder to see if Manila’s eyeing her ass in her jeans or not. Coke always makes her a little horny, which used to make Trixie unsettled. But Manila likes that about her.

Manila pauses in her pacing, watching Katya’s ass, and a little thrill shoots down Katya’s spine. There isn’t anything of interest in the fridge. Some carrot sticks, old milk, leftover pizza. Slimy spinach from Katya’s attempt to get something green into them both last week. Behind her, there’s a snort as Manila does another bump.

“Maybe- no, the first place they’ll check is the clubs and they’ll probably recognize us, but if we could get someone else to sell for us-“

Katya looks back at her, arching her back with a giggle and wiggling her ass. Her heart is soaring, she can’t help smiling, and there’s a manic edge underneath it. Her gums are numb, and her throat is tingling.

Something changes in Manila’s eyes and a smile spreads across her face.

Manila always makes Katya feel good, of course, but it’s a different kind of good than she’d had with Trixie. Trixie, with her big hair, her flannel shirts in the morning over her those little pink nightdresses, her dry humour. The way she didn’t always realize when she was being funny. Her observations. She used to make up silly songs for Katya, strumming away on her guitar while they sat on the balcony and Katya smiled and laughed and spilled her coffee, kicking her feet with how happy she was.

But Trixie had been able to walk away from it all because she had a goal. Katya and Manila haven’t had real goals in years.

Manila walks the short distance from the living room to the kitchen, eyes on Katya’s ass, hunger on her face. There’s an impulsive, high thrill in the air, that might be from the coke or the crime or both. Katya straightens, shutting the fridge.

Manila grasps her waist from behind, pushing Katya against the fridge and murmuring in her ear, “Gotcha, baby.”

Katya cackles and smiles and pushes her bony ass back into Manila’s body. But she likes it, the way that Manila manhandles her sometimes. It’s thrilling. She’s always had a thing for tall femme chicks with an aggressive streak. Trixie used to do the same thing, playful, until she started refusing to touch her at all.

Manila takes Katya’s upper arms and turns her around, bringing them both from the fridge to push Katya back against the counter and kiss her. Now this is going exactly where Katya wanted it to go, and it’s messy and frantic and maybe they’re both a lot high and a little scared. Lips meet teeth and tongues mingle, delicious.

“Get up on the counter,” orders Manila, breaking the kiss, and Katya obeys, hopping up with the help of her hands. She wraps her legs around Manila’s hips and they make out some more, Manila running her hands up Katya’s muscular back under her T-shirt, and Katya’s heart beats a little faster.

Katya tries her luck sneaking her hand between them and feeling up one of Manila’s not-particularly-impressive tits. Anyone involved with Trixie Mattel, even for a brief period of time, is ruined for all other breasts afterwards.

Manila bites Katya’s bottom lip in response, and the brief shot of pain goes straight to her pussy. Katya whines, and Manila goes from her lips to her neck, sucking the sensitive spot right below Katya’s jaw, and then she pulls back, hands fumbling on the button and fly of Katya’s jeans.

“Are they building jeans more complicated all of a sudden?” mutters Manila impatiently to herself as she works Katya’s fly open and Katya laughs, lifting herself up on her hands like the athlete she is- correction, once was, as Manila finally manages to get the fly down and pulls her jeans and underwear down to her knees.

Sitting back down ass naked on the counter is hilarious and Katya giggles, and then there’s the matter of working the jeans down to her ankles while Manila returns to Katya’s neck with a vengeance, kissing and sucking, and generally sending tingles up and down her spine. Manila roughly shoves Katya’s legs apart and drops to her knees.

And now it’s time for the best part and it’s the best part because, simply put, Manila might not be very smart (Trixie’s smarter than her despite her endless dumb blonde jokes) but Manila’s really fucking good at eating pussy.

Any dyke in Boston will tell you if you ask.

So Katya lets out this strangled gasp as Manila goes in with that fantastic mouth of hers, and Katya tangles her hands in that black curly hair and shivers and whines and tries to open her legs as wide as humanly possible without falling off the counter.

“Yes, god yes, ha, fuck-“ babbles Katya, caught up between gasps of laughter. She’s always been expressive.

The pressure builds as Katya rocks her hips, and Manila pushes fingers inside her and flicks her tongue over her clit in that way that makes Katya’s eyes roll back. Her head falls back and smacks against the cupboard behind her, and Katya throws one hand back to catch herself, scrambling to stay upright, as Manila holds her legs steady, in charge.

“Ow! Uh no, not you- oh fuck yes-”

It feels so good, it’s like a rollercoaster, building building building. Manila does that thing with her tongue again, glancing up to meet Katya’s eyes for a second, and Katya sees stars.

Two or three orgasms later, Manila stands up and leaves Katya gasping through the aftermath of the last one on her own. Wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, Manila leans in and captures Katya’s lips in a brief kiss.

“You want your turn?” says Katya, as her breath returns to normal. She hops off the counter, brushes the crumbs off her ass and pulls her underwear back up but doesn’t bother with her jeans yet, stepping out of them.

Manila nods. Manila’s turn is usually after Katya’s unless it’s one of those rare nights where Katya doesn’t want anything, doesn’t want to be touched at all, which happens sometimes. Trixie was always understanding, she was so loving, so patient. Manila is less so. But Katya has a lot less patience for her, too.

“Meet you in the bedroom,” says Manila, grabbing a lipstick-stained glass from the pile of dishes by the sink and filling it from the tap. To wash out the taste of pussy, Katya presumes.

Katya picks up her jeans and heads to the bathroom, pausing at the coffee table to cut out another line of blow and put it up her nose, while Manila does the same, except her trajectory is to the bedroom. As Katya washes her hands she stares into the mirror. Dark circles under her manic hazel eyes. Dryish lips. A weird pimple on her jaw that came out of nowhere. Straw-blonde hair up in a greasy top-knot. White T-shirt with Bob Ross on the front. But she’s wearing her favourite earrings, the ones that are dangly little plastic hands. Heh. Katya manages a smile. Those earrings always make her smile.

But what the fuck are they going to do with all that cocaine-

No time for that now, Katya breaks eye contact with herself and dries her hands, because it’s time to fuck Manila and fucking Manila is always an event.

In the bedroom, Manila has taken off her leather jacket but not her dress, and holds her phone in one hand, glaring down at it. She’s pushing forty but she still looks good and for a moment Katya just admires her figure in that short black lace nude illusion dress that hilariously doesn’t match her skin tone, and those long, fantastic legs.

They make eye contact across the room.

“Fuck me.”

It’s an order. Manila is always in control.

Katya crosses the room, leaning in to initiate the kiss. Softer this time, as Katya touches the back of Manila’s neck, and moves her bare legs against Manila’s own and eventually drops her hands down to grip her ass.

They stumble to the bed, and it only takes a quick confirmation for Katya to know what Manila wants. Katya’s on top of her, pressing her arms down, and pushing her thigh between Manila’s legs so she can grind on it. They furiously make out even as Katya’s gut is tightening, is reminding her, hey, you just saw this woman shoot a man-

As Manila’s breath gets heavier, Katya ignores the doubt and sits up and gets off the bed. Manila turns over, and slides herself back so that she’s bent over the edge of the bed, taking in a breath of anticipation. Her dress is riding up, and Katya can see the crotch of Manila’s plain blue cotton underwear. It’s damp.

Katya steps back and digs under the bed for her harness and strap-on, the one that she’s taken to leaving here. Hurriedly, Katya does up the leather harness and puts the dildo in place. It’s purple. Trixie used to wear it, and Katya would get on top and ride it enthusiastically, expressive, words of love and lust tumbling from her while Trixie gripped her thighs and smiled and fucked it up into her, her blonde hair splayed out on the mattress like a halo- Katya clicks it on to vibrate, angles it so that the end rests against her clit through her underwear and then gets down on her knees.

Manila props herself up on her elbows, and peers over her shoulder at Katya, her dark eyes intense and expecting. She licks her lips. It sends a jolt down Katya’s spine.

“Are you wet for me?” asks Katya in a filthy, half-joking tone.

“Why don’t you find out?’ replies Manila.

Katya decisively pushes Manila’s dress up to her waist and pulls her underwear down, and grabs her ass cheeks, squeezing, before running her knuckles across Manila’s pussy, to check. Manila sighs, and shuts her eyes. Katya isn’t sure who Manila’s imagining behind those eyelids, and she doesn’t ask. When Katya shuts her eyes it’s always Trixie.

On her lower back, Manila has a tramp stamp of the gemini symbol with a stylized little tail on the end. It’s ridiculous because as Katya knows well, Manila’s birthday is in October. Manila was getting it covered, redesigned into a monarch butterfly, but it’s half-done so only one side of it hosts a delicate orange wing.

She ran out of money for the other half.

Katya takes a moment to slips fingers into Manila and to stroke her clit and make sure she’s really ready, until Manila practically growls and looks back at her, widening her legs. She hates being teased. Well whatever, Katya’s not going to say no to fucking the pussy before her so she lubes up the gently vibrating strap-on, lines up and, because she’s a softie, slides it in gently, taking care.

She knows Manila doesn’t want her to take care, Manila wants her to slam it in and fuck her like she means it, but Katya learned to take care from Trixie and now she can’t (or won’t) unlearn it. Manila gasps, gripping the tangled, dirty sheets.

Katya snaps her hips forward, filling Manila and thrusting repeatedly, her hands on Manila’s hips, pressing her fingers into the crease where they’re bent.

Manila moans and curses, and Katya sets a good rhythm, because she knows it won’t take long. Manila pushes her ass back against Katya, and the sudden shift in movement makes Katya almost lose her balance again, arm reeling out to the side as she falls back on her heels, the strap-on sliding unceremoniously out of Manila.

“Oops,“ laughs Katya.

“Did you just fall?” says Manila glancing back at her, amused.

Katya giggles and Manila chuckles too, and maybe there’s a moment of love between them, for a split second. Katya gets back up and strokes the curve of Manila’s hip, then grabs it and fucks her hard, and Manila releases a passionate moan. The opposite end of the dildo rubs against Katya, and it feels nice, not enough to make her come again, but-

It’s all over fairly quickly, and as Manila arches her back and curses her way to a messy, satisfying finish.

And then there’s all the post-sex rituals to go though; Manila sitting up, slightly dazed, and pulling her dress down and wandering over to the bathroom. Katya unbuckling the harness, and listening to the water run. Manila returns for fresh underwear from the clean laundry basket by the bed that she hasn’t bothered to fold or put away, and then Katya goes to the bathroom to clean the dildo and comes back and tosses it back into the plastic bin under the bed with the harness, and the problem they’re faced with washes back over them.

They kiss briefly for the look of the thing, just because they’re supposed to afterwards or whatever, but maybe there’s some affection in it. Katya puts her jeans back on and then the fun’s over.

“Okay,” says Manila, pacing her bedroom as Katya sits cross-legged on the end of the bed, slumped, “Okay, who do we know?”

“Adore?”

“Amateur hour, no.”

“Violet?”

“She deals E and molly, she won’t touch coke.”

“Crystal?”

“Methyd? It’s in her fucking name, Katya-”

“Bob?”

“Moved to New York last I heard-“

“Alaska?”

“What? No. Fuck, I can’t believe Latrice is still mad at me-”

Katya’s list is over. Katya stares at the ugly carpet, and watches Manila pace. There’s another option that Katya hasn’t had the guts to bring up, until now.

“Your ex,” says Katya. Manila won’t stand to hear her name spoken aloud. It’s a ridiculous habit that Katya barely has the patience for.

“No-“

“She’s the only one with the buying capacity for this.”

“We’re not going to her.”

Katya throws up her hands, “If we sell this amount to anyone in the city she’ll know about it anyway!”

Manila stares at the dusty window.

“It’s not-“ begins Katya, and the hair stands up on the back of her neck and she releases a nervous giggle as the horrible possibility occurs to her, pointing to the bricks of cocaine on Manila’s coffee table in the other room, “That’s not hers, is it?”

“No,” says Manila abruptly, worry lining her face for a second, turning back to Katya, “No way, those weren’t her guys, she doesn’t hire guys like that. Those guys were fucking idiots. Besides, they'd’ve been ta-”

Katya breathes a sigh of relief, and Manila cuts herself off. There are two major gangs that run Boston’s underbelly, that bring in drugs and keep the crime organized. Katya’s on good terms with the north side guys, she knows a couple of them from way back and they don’t bother her. She works for them occasionally, when she’s gonna be short on rent. But Manila’s ex runs the other gang, and she’s powerful and dangerous.

The Gemini is not to be fucked with.

“Wait!” exclaims Manila, her eyes going wide and expressive for a moment, “What about your friend- your friend, what’s her name…?” Manila snaps her fingers frantically, as if to jog her memory.

Katya just looks at her, skeptical.

“Uh, uh,” says Manila, still snapping. “You know her, uh, she’s Laotian, short, great ass-“

“Jujubee?” says Katya, in complete disbelief.

“Yes!” says Manila, triumphantly. “Her.”

“No,” replies Katya, mouth twisting, “She’s not involved anymore, she said she’s getting sober and getting out-“

“Yeah whatever, everyone says they’re ‘getting sober and getting out.’ You said that.”

The words hurt. Katya looks down, drawing in a breath, the shame crushing her for a moment. Manila indulges all of Katya’s worst sides. Manila parties hard, she disappears and re-appears with new and better stories every time, she’s doesn’t get sad, she never gets tired, she encourages, she enables, she’s always in control, and it’s so, so hard to let go of her. Even when Trixie had given Katya the ultimatum.

Especially when Trixie had given her the ultimatum.

“Fuck,” says Katya, standing up and stalking back into the living room. “Fine, you wanna go hassle a dead end, whatever-“

“She’s not gonna be a dead end,” argues Manila, shrugging her leather jacket back on and following Katya, “I bet she still knows people who’ll buy. We have to shift at least some of this shit and quick, and maybe she’ll take it. We sell it to her on the cheap, she’s happy, we’re happy. Who cares what she does with it?”

Manila’s cynicism is so oddly pragmatic, so heavy. It’s crushing even Katya’s own cynicism, which is a weary weight to drag around. But it’s so hard for Katya to say no to Manila, saying no to Manila always comes with caveats.

“Fine,” agrees Katya, grinding her teeth, taking her phone out and firing off a quick text to Jujubee.

“Great,” replies Manila, and walks over to pick up the duffel bag next to the table, and begins shoving the neatly wrapped bricks of cocaine into it. She dumps some of the opened-up brick into a loose little ziplock baggie for easy access, rubs a bit on her gums, then puts the baggie into the duffel bag too.

There’s a sudden leak of noise as a car goes by outside, blasting music loud enough that Katya can hear the lyrics drift up into the apartment.

“Loving you forever can’t be wrong, even though you’re not here won’t move on-“

As quickly as the song arrives, it fades. Katya picks up her car keys, and wonders what Trixie’s up to right about now.

[wonwhomps]

Y.H.R.Y.D

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem. Reader

Summary: After telling Seungcheol that you hate him and wish to never see him again, will it be too much if one day he appears in front of you telling you how much he missed you or will it start something that could've started years ago?

Genre: romance / fluff / angst

Words: 2602

『Reminder: This story is the sequel / part two of Lie Again. To better understand the situations written below, I suggest reading Lie Again first. Thank you!』

Sitting on one of the station's public bench, you waited for your assigned train to arrive. For the last 10 years of riding the train in order to go to school, work and back home, this will be the last time of waiting and boarding. 

"I'm finally getting a car," you said while standing up and getting ready to enter the train.

Every time you wait at the same station after the tragic confession that happened 3 years ago, every word came back and you constantly think if there's anything wrong with how you look. You never forgot the words you also said to him that night.

"I wish I don't get to see you again", you sigh.

It's already 3 years, get a grip _____! You should be happy, 3 years of putting everything for work and now you're getting a car. Tomorrow.

With a sigh, you look out the window and enjoy the scenery of huge buildings passing by.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Incheon International Airport. Local time is nine-thirty pm and the temperature is twenty-three degree Celsius. (...) Have a nice evening!

Looking out the window, Seungcheol can see the familiar tall buildings and highways. Working in LA for almost 3 years, everything actually stayed the same... Or just the things that couldn't actually be changed.

"Did she change?" he whispered.

Resting his head over the window, "I want to see you again. I missed you,” he said.

"Ouch! I bit my tongue..." you woke up from daydreaming just the right time to get off the train.

"I wonder who's thinking about me? I did not bite my tongue on purpose... I'm not dumb!" Well except for the fact that I fell so damn hard to the man I don't dare say the name... and even meet. Psh.

Good thing there's not much people walking with you at the station. They might think that you're ill considering that you're talking out loud with no one else to talk to.

Tomorrow, there’s no need to buy tickets anymore. You’ll go home riding a car not a train. Tomorrow, you'll never get to remember what happened at the station 3 years ago. Tomorrow, you're moved on. It took you too long to finally convince yourself that you're over him.

For the past 3 years, you always say to yourself that you hate him, that you don't miss him even a single bit. But you find yourself trying to search his name on social media to see what's he up to these days. You can't help but sometimes worry about him, knowing that he's the breadwinner. You worry about him because you're his best friend before everything turned to ashes.

Your mind is full of wonders about him and his whereabouts for the last 3 years until you reach your home. It's only a walking distance from the nearest station up to your place. You did your routine, ate dinner and finally went to bed.

"A new day is waiting for me tomorrow. And a new car!" You excitedly said before closing your eyes and dozing off.

"Hyung! Over here."

Seungcheol couldn't believe that he's seeing his brother personally in 3 years of working overseas to send him to a decent school and provide a decent life for him.

"Video calls didn't inform me that you become taller!" He said showing his gummy smile to his younger brother while putting an arm on his brother's shoulder.

"How are you?"

"I'm glad that you're back, hyung. I missed you."

"You're too cheesy. You want something, don't you? I know your tactics. Let's go around town tomorrow. For now, let's go straight home." He said while hailing a cab.

jeo taeyang wiro my my my my my way~ 

-10 am-

A smile creeps on your face while you turn the alarm off, remembering something special about this day.

Owning a car is one of your dreams. Now that it's finally happening, you felt proud of yourself. Your parents are living on the countryside, that's why it is hard for you to visit them when you have a day off from work. With your dream car, you can now visit them whenever you want during your free time.

After eating breakfast, you took a shower and wore a black long-sleeve turtleneck shirt, mom jeans and black ankle boots. You put all your necessities inside your handbag and head outside to go to your chosen car's dealer shop.

While walking on the way to the station, you can't help but think of all the things that happened in years of riding the train. Although not all of them are happy ones, they're still a part of your train memories.

Seungcheol and his younger brother are on their way to the city to just spend some time together... and money.

He felt proud of where he is and what he is right now. He successfully raised his younger brother. Look at him achieving all of this. But something is still missing... Even after being with his brother, he still feels lonely. A sigh escaped his lips as he followed his brother who entered an electronic shop.

Before entering the shop, Seungcheol eyed something at the store beside the e-shop.

"I should probably start saving up for a car, sometime." He said while entering the shop where his brother welcomed him by pointing to a newly released computer.

"I thought I saw someone," you shrugged. "Must be someone I happen to see at the station. Geez. I think I'm familiar with everyone's faces after all the years of using the train as my main transportation." You said while entering the dealer shop.

Since you already settled the needed information last week, you are now signing some papers and the salesperson is telling you some stuffs about the car you chose. It's just a red sedan car, red has always been your favorite color.

Nothing special, except that you gave the color red a new meaning 3 years ago. Hatred and acceptance. It didn't change the fact that red is still your favorite color tho.

The salesperson told you that you can pick up your car later this afternoon. They still need to process your papers. So you decided to roam around the town, maybe buy some clothes or do a window shopping. 

But you ended up sitting on one of the station's public chair, your eyes following the passing train. You don't want to be emotional or start any drama. You're just here because after all those years, the station somehow calms you. Weird, but it really does.

You stand up near the ticket booth, you suddenly remembered how both of you take turns on buying tickets. The one who arrives first buys the ticket for two.

How both of you wait for each other even until midnight for the sake of riding the train together. Cheesy, but that's how it goes back then.

All the laughter every time both of you accidentally bought two tickets, now holding a total of four tickets.

Moments when you lend your shoulders for him to rest his head on when he's exhausted from his part-time jobs.

How you didn't even feel bored at all whenever you're riding the train with him. All his dad jokes that you actually find yourself laughing to. Basically, standing here... brings back all the memories of your friendship. But you never really think of it as friendship, you assumed something was going on. And here you are, alone.

Seungcheol ended up buying his younger brother the new pc. Something for study, he said. Seungcheol knows better that it's not for study, but still bought it for him, this is the first time his brother ever asked something from him.

He was left walking around the town as his brother immediately went home after holding the magical box. Seungcheol looked at the red car that was being tested. "Someone bought it," he said. "That was actually what I'm eyeing earlier." 

He was still tired after the long flight last night, so he decided to just go home instead of roaming around town. While walking towards the station, memories of 3 years ago flashed in his mind.

He saw how disappointed you were back then and how hurt you were. After seeing you turned your back to him that night, he badly wants to run to you and tell you the real feelings he feels about you, but he needs to provide a better future for his brother, so he needs to let one go.

He realized how foolish he was thinking that lying to you was the best option for everything, when he could've just said he's going away to work. "Things were done and there's nothing else I can do now." he sighed as he stand in line for the ticket.

You realized you were standing near the ticket booth and some passengers might think this is the official line. All your thoughts vanished when you feel someone stand behind you. "Shit." You said before turning around to politely say that this is not the line.

You froze.

You're not expecting things to happen like this. This is like the last time except it's him.

Seungcheol's eyes widen and his lips parted, trying to say something but nothing's coming out.

Staring at him feels surreal, it feels like one of those dreams you had before. He grew more handsome for the last 3 years. You bet he has a lover now, remembering how he rejected you back then. You wish he was yours.

Looking at him, you started saying things inside your head.

I thought I hate you. But the truth suddenly came out, I never really hated you. I was waiting for you to come to me that night when I turned around. But you never came. I lied about hating you. I lied about not wanting to see you again, because I badly want to see you. I want to love you. You're now here, again. I want to hold you but I'm afraid to be rejected again and that makes me want to run away from you.

You were about to leave, but he grabbed your arm. You can see that he wants to say something because his eyes tells you to listen.

"S-seungcheol... I have to go somewhere," you tried to escape. "I'm running lat-" !!

You were surprised when he suddenly hugs you... Tightly.

You remember his scent. You remember the time when he comforts you every time you need someone by your side, this feeling was the exact same feeling back then.

"I'm very sorry," he said while caressing your hair. "_____, I'm sorry."

I missed this.

"I missed you." Seungcheol said.

This must be a dream. You feel like crying after all those years of wanting to hear his voice and to feel his warmth. You want this, but a part of you says you need to let go.

And so you did.

You backed away from Seungcheol and started to walk away. Slowly.

Just like the last time.

You are silently waiting for him to come to you. Because if he does, you can't hide your feelings anymore. Now that he's here, your feelings for the past years suddenly came back.

You noticed that you are now near the exit of the station.

Maybe, he's just here to say sorry.

He's just here to say he missed me... Our friendship. To say sorry for the hurtful words he said to me. He's just here to end things more clearly. Maybe, I should too. I should turn around and say the words I wanted to say to him because now's the right time.

“We were friends, after all.”

You turned around and you suddenly felt a lips on yours. A pair of hands finding its way to rest on your hips.

Seungcheol deepens the kiss because of how unresponsive you are.

Everything's not processing, but you closed your eyes and started to move your lips against his.

Both of you feels like you're in a separate world where there's only the two of you, no one else.

Both of you parted lips when you both heard the station’s announcement.

The next train is arriving at platform X. All passengers who will board the next train, please stand by.

You looked at him. Still can't believe what happened. Same goes for him.

"_____, I love you," he pecked your lips and hands still resting on your hips.

"I.. uh," your phone rings.

You answered the call, Seungcheol's hands still on your hips, while looking at you. Memorizing all of you.

Seungcheol didn't expect already meeting you after arriving back here, and at the station too where everything started and paused.

He always believes that everything just paused between the two of you. That night was not the end. And here he is, holding you. Staring at you like he found something precious that he will take care of forever.

He waits for you to finish the call. He is mesmerized by your beauty. Indeed, everything he said back then were all lies.

After receiving the call, everything is suddenly processed. He just said the love word to you!

I mean, I love him. Not that I was just pressured when he suddenly said that. I was originally planning to say that when I turned around, but he just kissed me. Damn, we're still at the station. Should I say I...

"Love you?" your eyes widen.

"Are you asking me? Yes, I love you." Seungcheol can't hide his smile.

I just said that out loud, didn't I?

"No... I.. I was saying that I.. uh," you looked away. "I love you."

Seungcheol smiled as he hugs you again.

"_____, I want to tell you that I love you that night until today. Until forever."

xxxxx train arriving the platform.

Seungcheol looked at you.

"I'm supposed to take that train, you know? But I forgot to buy a ticket since it's you who's more important right now." he said.

Remembering the call you received, "I'll give you a ride."

His eyes widen.

"Aren't you a little straightforward, I mean... We just exchanged 'I love yous' earlier... Not that I'm saying that you're a little bold. But are you that hungry for me?" Seungcheol said like rapping, trying to avoid your eyes.

"What are you saying? My car is ready to go. I'm saying I'll give you a ride back home. Only if you want." you said, amazed by how his face started to be red like the color of your car.

Oh.

You can see how embarrassed he is right now. He can't even look at you properly. He just nodded, still not looking at you. Ears all red.

You hold his hand and walks towards the station's exit, back at the dealer shop to finally drive your car. With him. The one you love and the one who loves you, too.

Like how the stations and airports always say that the passengers reached their destination. I, too reached mine.

A/N:

I hope you reach yours, too.

Finally, after almost a year posting Lie Again, the sequel is now done. Lie again is a bit angst and I'm not really a fan of angst endings LOL. So if ever my stories ends with angst, expect that I'll write a sequel of that story. I hope you enjoy reading my works. To more stories together! I seriously thank you all esp my followers!

*My masterlist!*

Requests are allowed.

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What is your request about:

*tags - WWwrites

:)))

[chipsandcoffee]

Whouffaldi Fanfic

“You Sound Like a Song”

Post-Hell-Bent, fix-it of sorts, memory loss, confessions, angst, romance, eternal love, s10 spoilers, canon compliant (well technically at least), cameo appearance by Bill Potts

Also on AO3 at this link.

______________

He knew her name was Clara. He knew they’d travelled together. But that was all he knew.

The list of things the Doctor didn't know about Clara was so much longer and went so much deeper, prodding away at him from a restless corner of his mind. What was she like? What had they meant to each other? Why would he have wiped the memory of her from his mind? And the one question that troubled him most: what had happened to her?

He ruminated on these questions yet again as he slumped in a leather armchair in his office at St. Luke's University, absent-mindedly strumming his guitar. He often felt a sense of melancholy on these solitary nights. Nothing was sad until it was over, he thought. Then everything was.

He had spent a long time trying to look for Clara (being stuck on Earth for a number of years hadn’t stopped him, for he was based where she was most likely to be). Of course he didn't know who he was looking for (hadn't someone told him that once?), but he believed he would know her if he met her again, and she would surely know him. But it had never happened. And he’d never heard a word from her.

He'd eventually reached the most logical and painful conclusion: she was dead. She'd likely been dead all along, even before he’d erased her from his memory (he could tell he’d used a neural block, could feel the sensation of a hole in his mind where something ought to be). Maybe that was why he'd taken the drastic step of eliminating those memories in the first place: her death had simply been too painful for him to bear.

He obviously had no idea how Clara had died, but he had the painful feeling that it had somehow been his fault. Hers was probably another life cut tragically short because of him, just like too many other people he’d been close to.

Indeed, he’d experienced more than his fair share of loss over his long life, and the last few decades had certainly been no exception. River had gone to her inevitable death shortly before he’d arrived in Bristol (at least by his timeline). He’d also very nearly presided over the execution of Missy before rescuing his oldest friend and bringing her to St. Luke’s. But for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, the very idea of Clara being dead made his hearts ache in a way nothing else did. Perhaps more than anything else ever had.

It was strange grieving for someone he didn’t remember. His grief after losing River had made sense to him, and he’d been able to move on from it (even if Nardole, devoted to River as always, continued to assume that any sign of sorrow from the Doctor was connected to his late wife). But he had a vague, shapeless sense of loss deep in his bones that he knew, he just knew, was the grief he was still carrying for Clara. He obsessed over the unknown and unknowable details of her life, their life, and her presumed death. 

His grief frequently bubbled up to the surface when he played his guitar. In fact, as he sat there in the shadows of his office, he realized that he'd once again started playing a variation of a song from long ago that he knew was called “Clara.” Bill was always curious about that tune, but he'd never told her its true title. How would he begin to explain the story behind it when he didn’t understand it himself? 

The Doctor suddenly recalled with regret that he’d been rather curt with Bill earlier that day when she'd teased him that that particular song was the only one he knew how to play. He thought maybe he should say something to her by way of apology when he saw her again. He also knew he was rubbish at such conversations, so he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and fished out the stack of dog-eared index cards that he relied on for such occasions. He'd had them for many years, each card a neatly-written sentence that he could use in tricky social situations (which for him was most social situations). One of his companions had probably made them for him at some point, but he couldn't remember who. He liked to imagine they came from Clara, that he still had something tangible left of her that he carried with him. He wondered if she would have liked that.

The Doctor put his guitar aside, ran his hand down his face, and started pacing around his office. All this brooding wasn't doing him any good. He needed a distraction. He paused, fingers drumming on his desk, as his eyes fell on his TARDIS parked in the corner following his last outing with Bill. He'd been thinking recently that the timeship’s interface stabilizer could use an upgrade; that would keep him busy for a while. But he’d need to get his hands on a few parts first. He considered his options. 

His favourite place to get spare parts for the TARDIS was at a marketplace on the planet Haligonia. Of course Nardole would give him grief if he found out that the Doctor had travelled off world, but Nardole was currently occupied with tinkering with the locks on the vault deep under St. Luke’s and likely would be for a while. The Doctor could be gone and back before Nardole knew he’d left. He rubbed his hands together, his decision made. He pushed open the TARDIS doors.

A few minutes later, the Doctor was strolling through the bustling marketplace on 48th-century Haligonia. The planet was a human colony, but the well-known market attracted shoppers of a variety of species from all over the galaxy. It was a warm, sunny day, and the breeze carried smells of local street foods as he made his way past vendors selling everything from the latest tech gadgets to exotic jewellery to flowers of every possible colour.

Soon enough he spotted the parts dealer’s stall. As he approached it he noticed there was a rather spirited conversation going on between the tall, burly dealer and a petite young woman. The customer was dark-haired and wore a black leather jacket with a well-worn satchel slung over her shoulder. Her clear voice stood out over the din of the market, and as the Doctor walked up behind her, he could hear her haggling over the price of something.

“Come on, this would've cost less when it was new than what you’re asking for it now.”

The dealer folded his arms. “Yeah, well life’s not fair, lady. And if you can find it new somewhere else, feel free to buy it there.”

“Fine,” she said nonchalantly, “I will then.” The woman spun around and began striding off, nearly walking into the Doctor.

“Sorry,” she said, glancing up at him. She did a double take and suddenly froze, staring at him, her strikingly large eyes becoming impossibly larger. She stood stock still for a long moment. “Doctor,” she breathed.

He peered down at her, knitting his eyebrows and squinting slightly. “Have we met?”

“Yeah, yeah we've met,” she said faintly, sounding dazed. She continued to stare at him, and now her eyes were starting to look distinctly watery.

The Doctor became increasingly concerned that this stranger might inexplicably burst into tears right in front of him, a prospect that he found rather frightening. He reached into his pocket for his social cue cards in a desperate attempt to find something to say that might diffuse whatever was happening.

He found one of his frequently-used cards, and recited, “I apologize for not recognizing you. I am a time traveller and I sometimes meet people out of order.”

The woman tore her eyes away from the Doctor's face to look at what he was holding. However, much to the Doctor's horror the card had only made things worse, as she had clasped her hand over her mouth and a tear trickled down her face.

“I, um,” he spluttered, his arms flailing.

The woman suddenly seemed to snap out of her emotional state and darted her eyes around the marketplace, as though searching for an escape route. “I'm um, I'm so sorry,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to smile. “Have a good day.” And with that she turned and strode away without a backwards glance.

The Doctor felt somewhat relieved that this problematic encounter appeared to have resolved itself. But he also felt responsible for upsetting this person, and he found himself chasing after her through the crowd of shoppers.

“You there,” he said, starting to catch up to her. “Are you okay?”

He thought she must not have heard him, because she kept on walking. But then she came to a sudden halt, and the Doctor had to stop himself from running into her from behind. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned around, her face somehow conveying trepidation and relief at the same time. The Doctor was baffled how she managed to do that. 

The woman heaved a long sigh. “I am so sick of hiding from you.” The Doctor frowned as she stepped towards him, the crowd swirling around them. “The reason I recognize you but you don't recognize me isn't because of time travel. It's because you’ve forgotten me.” She paused for a second and wiped away a tear. “You, um, you chose to forget me.”

The Doctor felt as though his hearts had stopped and that all the blood had drained from his face. His mouth fell slightly open. Some distant part of his brain thought he must look like he'd seen a ghost. To him he had.

“Clara,” he whispered. It wasn't a question. He knew somehow, he was certain who she was.

“Yeah,” she whispered in return, gazing into his eyes.

“You're not dead,” he blurted out, immediately realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

“Yeah,” she frowned. “Why? Have you remembered--”

“I haven't remembered anything. I'd just… guessed. That-- that you were dead.”

Clara looked into the Doctor’s eyes and he immediately felt like she could see into his soul, into every lonely, hopeless night he’d spent grieving for her. Her face grew concerned.

“Oh, Doctor.” She reached up and laid her hand on his cheek, and the Doctor surprised himself by not flinching under her touch. “I think we should talk.”

______________

A few minutes later, the Doctor found himself incredibly, miraculously sitting with Clara at a small table in the corner of a quiet cafe on a back street near the marketplace, a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of each of them. They sat in silence at first as they stole glances at one another and tried to figure out how to navigate this strange situation.

“I like your coat,” Clara started, nodding at the blue-lined black velvet jacket he'd favoured of late.

“Oh, um, thanks.” He felt himself blushing. He wasn't used to people saying that sort of thing to him. Another moment passed and he asked, “How did you travel here?”

“In my TARDIS,” she answered easily, as though that were something that humans did all the time.

“What?” He was flabbergasted. “You have a TARDIS? How?”

Clara sighed. “Oh, this is going to be a very long story, Doctor.”

Several cups of tea later, Clara had told the Doctor the story of their final days together: the raven on Trap Street, the Doctor pulling Clara from her time stream on Gallifrey (which partly explained the vague memories he’d had of being trapped for a very long time in his confession dial), and her escape in a stolen TARDIS (oddly with the immortal woman Ashildr).

Once Clara had finished her story, the Doctor sat in stunned silence, attempting to make sense of it all, of the extreme lengths he'd gone to for Clara. He tried to wrap his mind around the idea that he’d actually plucked this woman from her time stream right before her death. And here she sat, still time-looped. Still, in essence, alive.

“You know how to fly a TARDIS?” It probably wasn’t the most important question, but it’s the one that popped out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” she laughed, her eyes twinkling, and the Doctor thought her laugh was perhaps the loveliest thing he’d ever heard. “I picked up a thing or two in the years we travelled together.”

The Doctor was impressed. “So how long has it been for you since you last saw me?”

“Oh, um, I'm not sure anymore. A while back I stopped keeping track of how long it’d been. It was--” She paused, lowering her eyes, a hint of pain crossing her face. She cleared her throat, met his eye again and continued, “I figured that was for the best. But I guess it must be close to a hundred years now.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows slightly. "I think it's almost exactly the same for me."

The corners of Clara's mouth quirked up. "Yeah, that's just the way things seem to go with us. We've always been… connected, somehow.”

“What have you been doing all that time?”

“Oh you know, flying about a bit, watching the odd star being born, saving the odd planet.”

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh at Clara's jokingly casual tone, and he marvelled to himself at this amazing woman. But there was an important issue that Clara hadn’t yet explained.

“So why don’t I remember you, Clara? Based on the type of amnesia that I experienced, I’m guessing that I used a neural block of some sort?”

Clara’s face turned serious and she glanced down.

“Um, yeah, you did.” She gave a puzzled frown. “It's weird though, I saw you shortly after the neural block, and you seemed to remember a bit more than you do now. At least some of what had happened on Gallifrey.”

“Ah, well it's not uncommon in the early stages following a neural block to be left with some disjointed shards of memories. Over time, if the brain can't process those fragments, they're forgotten. It's sort of like forgetting a dream shortly after awakening.”

“Right, okay.”

The Doctor searched her face. “Clara, why did I use a neural block to forget you?” 

Clara looked upwards as if searching for inspiration on how to respond to the Doctor’s question, tears threatening in her eyes again. She took a deep breath.

“It wasn't meant to be you, not at first.”

“What do you mean?”

“You, um, you were going to use the neural block on me. You thought I'd be safer from the Time Lords if I didn't remember you.”

The Doctor frowned in confusion. “So what happened?”

Clara lowered her eyes. “I used your sonic sunglasses to reverse the polarity on the neural blocker when you weren't looking.”

“You what?”

“I didn't want it to go off on you, I just didn't want you to use it on me.” She began to raise her voice while a tear spilled down her face. “I didn't want you to use it at all, I told you what I'd done!”

Her voice broke and she paused, catching her breath and wiping her face. The Doctor felt a rush of sympathy and heartache for her. He realized that as difficult as it had been for him to live with his missing memories, Clara had suffered too, in a different way: she'd had to carry around the weight of everything they'd been through, while he had been blissfully ignorant.

Clara continued, speaking more quickly as she got through the rest of her story. “So. You didn't know at that point what would happen when the button on the blocker was pressed. That's when you suggested that we both press the button together, knowing that one of us would forget the other, but not knowing which one. Better than flipping a coin, you said.” Clara dropped her gaze and her voice fell to nearly a whisper. “And I guess you kind of lost the coin toss.”

The Doctor watched Clara for a moment, her head bowed. Then he found himself leaning forward and placing his hand on hers. Clara looked up at him, surprised at the contact.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“For what?”

“For everything, I guess. For forgetting you. For trying to make you forget me. I'm sorry that you feel bad about what happened with my memories, because it wasn't your fault, Clara. We knew the risks and we pressed that button together.” 

She squeezed his hand, a hint of relief on her face.

“You didn't say why I thought one of us needed to forget the other,” the Doctor continued. “But I think I'm starting to understand. Everything I did, the confession dial, the extraction chamber, my plan to hide you away and make you forget me.” The Doctor felt his hearts stirring as he now wrapped Clara's hand in both of his. “I think I would have torn the sky apart for you, Clara Oswald. And I think I knew that.”

A sad smile crossed Clara's face. “And I would have done the same for you.”

The Doctor and Clara gazed silently at each other, her small hand wrapped in his two, lost in the universe that was each other's eyes. 

After a while Clara swallowed, leaned forward, and spoke in a quiet voice. “Doctor, there's one more thing I still haven't told you. When you and I were on Gallifrey, we sat together in the Cloisters, and I told you something important, something I'd never told you before.” Clara took her free hand and laid it on top of his, her eyes round and sparkling. “I told you that I loved you. That I'd always loved you and I always would, and that I wished I'd told you a long time ago. That maybe if I had, things would have turned out differently.”

The Doctor had been surprised by many things Clara had told him that day, but somehow her declaration of love wasn't one of them. He’d known it, felt it, from the moment he'd met her in the market outside.

“And how did I respond?” he whispered, scarcely breathing.

Clara gave another sad smile and shook her head. “You didn't. That was the moment you got the service hatch open and, well, we had to keep running.”

“Ah,” was all he could think of to say.

“Yeah. We’ve had a lot of bad timing, you and me.”

As if to emphasize the point, the cafe owner at that moment walked by their table and turned off the “open” sign in the window, pointedly clearing his throat as he did so.The Doctor glanced around and realized that he and Clara had been alone in the cafe for quite some time.

“I think we’re being kicked out,” Clara whispered loudly, her eyes twinkling.

“Looks like it,” the Doctor replied with a crooked grin.

Outside, the Haligonian night had fallen, and the streets were nearly empty. The planet's two champagne-coloured moons shone overhead, and the air felt damp and cool after the warmth of the day. The Doctor and Clara wandered together through the town for a while, swapping tales of adventures and wild escapes, their bursts of laughter ringing through the stillness of the evening. The streets and laneways they walked eventually gave way to a green, park-like area on the edge of town where the scent of blossoming trees drifted through the night air. The Doctor wished they could keep walking forever, but as his TARDIS came into view in the moonlight, he was reminded that their magical day had to come to an end.

They walked together across the dewy grass and stopped near his blue box, standing in an uncertain silence, the only sound a nocturnal bird calling in the distance. Clara finally spoke. “So what happens now? Me and you, what do we do now?” The hint of tears glistening in her eyes told the Doctor that she probably already knew the answer.

“Oh, Clara. I don't even need my memories to know that there’s nothing in this universe I’d like more than to travel with you again. But I said today that I would have torn the sky apart for you all those years ago, and I know in my hearts I still would. And that you’d still do the same for me.” 

He took a step closer to her. “Everything you’ve told me, everything I can see and feel now tells me that we were amazing together. But also that we were dangerous. And I don't think there’s any way to stop that from happening again, because of who we are, and because of--” He paused and took a deep breath. “And because of how we feel about each other.”

Clara looked down and nodded, a tear falling to the ground. “Yeah,” she whispered.

The Doctor tenderly placed his hand on Clara’s cheek, and she looked up at him. Clara had told him so much that day. Now there was something he felt he had to tell her, something that was burning within him. He wasn't going to let the opportunity pass him by again, not this time.

“Clara, I never got the chance to respond to you in the Cloisters, and I know a lot of time has passed since then and I’ve forgotten so much. But I know, I’m certain of one thing. I loved you, Clara Oswald. I loved you-- I love you with both my hearts. And I always will.”

Clara smiled up at him, even as another tear rolled down her cheek. The Doctor wiped away the tear with his thumb, feeling dizzy with the emotions swirling inside him. He found himself slowly leaning towards her, feeling a pull as irresistible and inevitable as gravity, as Clara ran her hand up his arm. Their lips met in a soft, heartfelt kiss. To the Doctor it felt surprisingly natural, right, perfect. It felt like the long-awaited conclusion to a conversation begun 100 years ago.

The Doctor stepped back and took Clara's hand as he stood there smiling softly at her, warmth and contentment infusing his body. She smiled back at him, all dimples and shiny eyes.

“I’m really glad I got to see you, Doctor.”

“I’m really glad I got to see you too, Clara Oswald.”

But his smile faltered as the reality of his situation sunk in. Clara frowned.

“What’s wrong, Doctor?”

He released her hand and sighed. “My neural block, Clara. I don’t know what'll happen when I leave tonight. Seeing you today, talking to you, learning all about you, about us. I don’t want to forget any of it, not again. But my brain has blocked my memories of you for a very long time, and I'm afraid it'll do it again.”

Clara’s face was filled with concern. “There must be something we can do.”

He shook his head and half-shrugged his shoulders.

Clara’s eyes lit up. “Hang on, I have an idea.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and opened her satchel. After some rummaging around, she pulled out a small cardboard box and opened it. “I carry these around with me. They still come in handy for all kinds of things.”

______________

Bill started packing up her things as the day’s tutorial with the Doctor wrapped up.

The Doctor was sitting behind his massive desk, continuing to flip through the book they'd been discussing. “And don’t forget that your research paper on laser-cooled ions is due tomorrow.”

Bill rolled her eyes good naturedly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

“Good.” The Doctor tried to look stern, but he had a feeling he wasn’t quite pulling it off. Tossing aside the book, he stood and picked up his guitar from the chair where he'd left it, wandering around his office as he played the song that he now knew was named for the woman he loved.

Bill paused as she walked towards the door. “Don't think I've heard that version before. It's, I dunno, cheerier.”

The Doctor smiled to himself. “Good night, Bill.”

“‘Night, Doctor. See ya tomorrow.”

Now alone, the Doctor played for a while longer before setting his guitar down. He relaxed into his favourite armchair and reflected on how different things were for him since his trip to Haligonia a few weeks earlier. He could still remember much of his wondrous encounter with Clara, though some of the details were growing hazy, almost as though the whole thing had been a dream. Sometimes he thought maybe it had been a dream. But whenever that unsettling feeling arose, he would do as he did now. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small stack of index cards. Some were old and dog-eared, but some were new. All of them had the same neat handwriting, and now he knew whose handwriting it was.

He picked out the new cards. The one on top read, “Clara is alive and doing well. She wants you to be happy.” He gave a contented sigh. The next two were his favourites.

“Clara loves you. She always has and always will.” 

“You told Clara that you love her, and she will always cherish that.”

He smiled even as his eyes felt wet with tears (perhaps he was malfunctioning). He gazed at the cards for a long time, his fingers running lightly over the words.

He knew her name was Clara. He knew they’d travelled together. He knew she was still out there, exploring the universe. He knew they'd loved each other deeply and truly, and they always would.

He also knew that nothing was sad until it was over. And he and Clara would never be over. Not in his hearts, not ever.

______________

Thank you for reading! This is my first fic and any feedback would be very welcome and appreciated!

[justcallmenikki7]

Miles Away: Park Jimin

Summary: “i think this is wrong”

Warnings: fluff, angst? not really but only like a sentence?

Notes: none

Soulmate!Au Masterlist

Growing up, you always dreamt about what it was like to meet the one for you. The one person who would cherish and love you for who you are. To be with the person that loves you without makeup on, or when you have Mount Everest on your forehead because of your oily skin, or when you decide to not wash your hair everyday.  

But as you grew older, you began to give up because of the stupid numbers on your wrist. The numbers that told you how far your soulmate was and that it was a small chance of you meeting them because they were on the other side of the world. Your parents told you that you will meet them in your life because if you were not going to then they would not be designed to be your soulmate.  

As you grew older, the numbers on your wrist would either increase or decrease every day or few weeks. You began theories of this thinking that your soulmate was either a big traveler, in the military, or a famous artist. You go with the first two options because you know that there was no chance that an artist would be your soulmate – they would be soulmates with another artist, right?  

That is why you were shocked when you found yourself standing in front of the one and only, Park Jimin in a small café. Your wrist was buzzing with excitement, your heart beating rapidly, and a thousand emotions overwhelming with your body.  

“I think this is wrong,” you began, only to realize how wrong your statement came out due to the broken look on Jimin’s thing. “Oh my God, no! I did not mean it like that! No, I am like, thrilled, no, ecstatic, no I do not know the right word to say, but what I am trying to say is that I do not know how I am your soulmate.” Jimin gave you a confused look from what you said.  

“I don’t follow.”

“You’re an international popstar while I am a checker at my local grocery store, barely making it through rent and college. I thought that since you are an artist, you would be soulmates with another? While I would be soulmates with a person who works as a drug dealer or something.” You explained, blushing from how ridiculous you probably sound.  

Jimin laughed at your explanation, a wide grin on his face as he shook his head in amusement. “Well, soulmate, you are wrong. But I am glad that my soulmate makes me laugh in the first five minutes of our meeting. How about this, I buy you lunch and you can repay me by telling me everything about you and being in my presence.”  

[creepy-crawley-crowley]

The Glasses ~ Crowley X Reader

Sah dude. Hi. Hello. Greetings and Salutations, I am your local Crowley dealer, and this is your first delivery. Reblogs are greatly appreciated, as are requests. Send some in, please. Anyway.

I tried to keep this gender neutral too!

Warnings: Angst, kinda, and out of character characters lmao

Crowley liked to think that he was a tough guy, a heartless demon with a soft spot for two people. One, an Angel, and the other, a human with a soft spot for snakes. It just so happened that Crowley was very snakelike.

Said human actually had a snake, too, a White Lipped Python. (Crowley would never admit it, but he was jealous) The snake was, in fact, called Slither. Slither! Who called a snake Slither!

But that's besides the point.

Crowley was heading to Y/N's house, to reveal what he really was. He drove in his black Bentley, 'Somebody To Love' by Queen blasting as loudly as it could, and he pulled up outside, and wasn't surprised to find Y/N tending to the garden that resided outside their house.

Upon hearing the Bentley, Y/N turned around, hair slightly messier than usual, and smiled.

"Crowley! I wasn't expecting to see you here, what are you up too?" Y/N asked happily, wandering to the car. Crowley smiled slightly, adjusting his glasses.

"Come on, get in. I'm taking you on a trip." Crowley watched as Y/N got in, slightly confused. They sat next to him, and raised an eyebrow, shutting the door.

Crowley hit the pedal, and off they went.

They stopped near a small cottage, in the countryside, where Crowley and Aziraphale had decided to retreat to after the whole Armageddidn't situation. Not that Y/N knew about that. Crowley got out, and Y/N followed, and they both walked up to a field, and Y/N smiled slightly upon seeing a picnic set up.

"Crow, what are you up too?" Y/N asked, chuckling. Crowley looked at the ground, and smiled softly, a rare thing from him.

"It's a picnic." He stated, sitting down, and patting the spot next to him. Y/N sat, and picked up an apple. Crowley chuckled. Ironic. "I need to tell you something." He mumbled, mood suddenly switching. Y/N sensed the mood change instantly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious, don't worry. I just...need to tell you something." Crowley looked at Y/N from behind his glasses. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna take my glasses off. Promise me you won't run." He sounded weak...desperate...human.

"I promise." Y/N held out a pinky, and Crowley blankly stared at it. Y/N smiled faintly. "It's a pinky promise...never mind. But, I promise."

Crowley nodded, and his hands came up, ready to take off the darned shades, ready to let Y/N know who, and what he truly was, ready for Y/N to scream, and run to Aziraphale. Nobody could ever be scared of him, after all.

But he couldn't. His hands shook wildly, like his plants, as they grasped his glasses. Y/N watched patiently, their eyes observant. Taking in detail. And still, Crowley struggled on.

"Crowley...can I?" Y/N asked quietly, gesturing to his glasses. Crowley froze, surprised, and then blinked slowly. He then nodded, and up came Y/N's hands, they gently rose, and their fingers rested on the frame for a moment, and Crowley's breathing became quick and heavy.

He almost felt...scared.

Before he could stop it, a strangled noise came from his throat and he flinched backwards, eyes shut tightly even though his glasses hadn't come off. Y/N frowned.

"You don't have to, Crowley, it's okay." Y/N said gently, but Crowley shook his head, keep going, please, keep going. Y/N understood what he meant, and sighed, attempting to remove the glasses again, moving slowly, cautiously, and gradually, little by little, off came the glasses.

But the eyes stayed shut. And that was okay, Y/N wasn't angry, how could they be? If Crowley needed a moment then he would get that moment.

Crowley's eyes opened, and Y/N gasped softly, but didn't scream. Didn't run. Didn't cry. Y/N did the opposite.

"Crowley. Look at me, please." Y/N said ever so softly. "Crowley, please don't be scared." Gentle hands cupped his cheeks, and Crowley unintentionally leant into the soft touch. "What are you, Crowley?" Crowley almost whimpered at the question. He'd never felt so vulnerable.

"I'm a Demon." Crowley whispered, and Y/N nodded. "No, seriously, I'm a Demon. I-I have wings, and I can do things." Crowley added, and Y/N merely nodded.

"Okay. That's okay."

Crowley frowned, bringing his wings out. "I'm serious." He repeated, and Y/N tilted their head to one side.

"Okay. Can...can I touch them?" Y/N asked, and much to their surprise, Crowley nodded.

Now, Crowley had never been fond of physical contact. One could even say he'd never been touched, which was not true, he'd been touched a few times. But maybe that person meant something else, who knows?

So when careful fingers touched the top of Crowley's wings, he flinched away. Y/N was patient, and waited for Crowley to relax again, before gently running a careful finger over sleek feathers.

Crowley decided that felt nice. He'd certainly get Y/N to do that more.

Y/N settled for some gentle petting, and Crowley smiled softly. Y/N's fingers were a lot more skilled that he'd imagined (not that he'd admit to that) and Crowley found himself leaning back, and heard Y/M's soft laugh as their hands moved to the feathers closer to his back.

That's when Crowley made a fool of himself, and made a noise that could only be described as a moan. He froze, and Y/N froze too, and for a few moments they were still, before Y/N smirked.

Crowley, for the second time today, felt scared.

But this was a different type of scared.

"Okay, I can explain." Crowley started, but Y/N held a hand up, smirk still present, and Crowley gulped, his gold serpentine eyes unblinking as he watched Y/N.

"I'm never ever going to let that go...ever...and I will use it to my advantage." Y/N chuckled, and Crowley groaned.

"Whatever, just...do it again."

"Why?"

"Because it felt nice, do you realise how inaccessible that area of my wings is? They rarely get touched anyway, so, as ironic as it sounds, that felt heavenly. Now do it again." Crowley explained quickly.

Y/N sighed, and began running their fingers through the soft feathers again, and Crowley, once again, leant back, trying to get more.

It was then that Y/N realised that Crowley literally craved affection. And so, they hugged him.

Crowley's initial reaction was to jump away and spin around, startled, but he soon realised what was happening, and sat back down, facing Y/N, and he returned the hug.

Crowley wasn't as tough as he said he was, obviously.

Slender arms snaked around Y/N's body, and Crowley nuzzled into Y/N's neck, and even wrapped his wings around them. Y/N gently played with Crowley's hair as they hugged.

From then on, Crowley seemed a little nicer.

[larkiwrites]

“Redemption” - Chapter 8

AU: Supernatural Title: Redemption Chapter: Eight Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Word Count:  2,727 Pairing: Getting There…. Warnings: Bar fight, male-on-female violence (very brief), some angst A/N: I was going to post this tomorrow but I’m too excited. Sorry for any typos/errors, feel free to point ‘em out and I’ll happily fix them! Feedback is always welcome ^_^

Chapter 7  |  Chapter 9  |  Masterlist

A couple of weeks had passed and the Winchester men were still privately investigating, without having been hired to do so. Sam spent a lot of time engrossed in information he could find on his laptop and Dean spent a lot of time outside the motel room, doing whatever a ‘private investigator’ does. The motel room had a small kitchenette so you took up residence as the cook, insisting you couldn’t keep eating fast food and pop tarts for the rest of your life. In reality you couldn’t stifle the guilt you felt by not helping in any way or paying for anything. Luckily, as it turned out, you weren’t too shabby at cooking. The fact pleasantly surprised all three of you, judging on Dean’s reaction and Sam’s insistence that you go back to the local store for more supplies. You kept it to inexpensive and simple meals, not knowing how much money the brothers had, but you assumed getting the few groceries you had was certainly cheaper than all of the dining out.

“Thank you,” Sam said, sighing contently as he finished his meal.

“No problem, oh! And the dessert, I forgot we had gotten any….” You trailed off as you made your way to the fridge. Sam hummed in agreement, his eyes watching his brother intently as you brought over a small cherry pie.

“It’s not homemade but better than nothin’,” you shrugged as you opened the plastic container and started to scoop out a slice for each of the guys.

Dean’s eyes had widened ever so slightly when he saw the pie and he wondered if you knew… no, you couldn’t know of his affinity for pie… could you? Sam snickered and gave you this thank before digging into the dessert. Ah, maybe Sam had picked it out, he had taken you to the store after all.

“You pick this, Sammy?” Dean asked through a mouthful of pie, making you chuckle. Sam shook his head, his mouth too full to answer.

“I did, why? Is it ok?” You asked Dean before quickly adding on, “If you write a list, I can get whatever you want next time we go, I’m sorry if it’s not any good.”

Dean swallowed hard and quickly shook his head, stating it was perfect and thanking you for it. It was weird, hearing him thank you for something. He had been acting weirdly ever since you had gotten to the new motel room, and you couldn’t pinpoint the cause. All you knew is it was driving you crazy. One month he wants nothing to do with you, the next he’s thanking you and asking you to cook dinner more often.

“So, any new leads?” you looked between the two brothers. You had to get your mind off of Dean.

The two men glanced at each other as if having a silent conversation before shaking their heads and replying with a simple ‘no’ …in unison. You cocked an eyebrow at them. They were lying. You were getting better at reading them and could easily tell.

“What new leads have you found?” you rephrased the question, folding your arms across your chest and leaning back in your chair.

Dean rolled his eyes, still shaking his head. Sam sighed before stating they had found a few connections they were ‘looking into’ and left it at that.

“I hate when you guys do that, you know. Talk to each other silently as if I’m not sitting right here, watching you do it, and then lying to me,” you threw your arms up before standing and starting to clear the table.

Dean and Sam froze in place behind your back as you threw away the now-empty paper plates and used utensils. Sam stared his brother down and nodded his head toward you as if to say, ‘talk to her,’ but Dean only shook his head. It was late but he could probably get away with finding a bar so he sat on the edge of the couch-bed and laced up his boots. Sam gave his older brother an exasperated look before turning back to you.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). We don’t mean to.”

“To what? Talk to each other or lie?” you turned around and rested against the counter, folding your arms over your abdomen while you met eyes with the younger Winchester.

“Fine, we meant to lie, but it’s not to be assholes, ok? It’s just better if you don’t know too much about the cases we work.”

That earned him a heart-felt roll of your eyes, “Whatever, Sammy, it’s fine. I’m going to hit the shower.”

“She calls you Sammy, now?” Dean whispered as soon as you had shut the door to the bathroom behind you.

Sam shrugged, “I guess?”

“You guess? Since whe….you know what? Nevermind. I’m gonna go find a bar and get shit-faced. You and (Y/N) have fun, Sammy.”

Sam flinched at the anger in his brother’s words but before he could say anything the older brother had gathered his keys and left, slamming the cheap motel door behind him. A few seconds passed and you popped your head out of the bathroom door, a towel wrapped about you.

“What happened?” the sound of the door had startled you.

“Ugh, just, Dean being…well, Dean,” Sam sighed as he glanced over his shoulder at you. He quickly did a double-take at your appearance, causing you to blush.

“I, uh, sorry,” you mumbled before quickly ducking back into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You berated yourself before getting back into the stream of hot water. You needed to stop being so damn relaxed around these guys. Sure, you had been with them for about six weeks already, but that meant you had only known them for six weeks. You sighed, shaking your head.

--

A few hours passed, you had finished your shower quickly and Sam had taken one after you. It gave you some time to think, to be alone, and to ponder over everything. Your mind replayed the last six weeks of your life, going over every detail you could. You tried to fit some of the jagged pieces of memory that had begun sporadically popping up into place, like a puzzle that was missing most of its pieces and didn’t have a picture to guide you, but only found yourself becoming agitated. Sometimes you thought you could remember faces of people you knew, but they were always blurred, out of focus. You sighed to yourself as Sam flopped onto his bed, freshly showered and dressed, a cold beer in hand.

“What is it?” his voice was smooth, velvety soft and comforting.

“I’m just tired of the confusion,” your reply was quiet, simple and direct. No point in beating around the bush with Sam, he could read through it by now, just like you could tell when he and Dean lied to you.

“I know. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

You shrugged off the apology, “Don’t, don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Hell, you’ve one so much for me, Sammy. I often wonder, will I ever be able to repay you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” it was his turn to shrug. He seemed so sincere.

“Really, Sam. I hate that you and Dean can work, bring in money, pay for everything and now you have to support me, too. I want to help. Can I help you research whatever you’re privately investigating?”

Sam bit his lip, “Um, no, no it’s better that you don’t know too much about it…”

“Are you a drug dealer, Sammy?” you asked, grinning at him. You had laughed to yourself about the thought and how it had crossed your mind before.

Sam choked on his beer, sputtering the brew as his eyes widened.

“Am I- what? Is that what you think?” he didn’t know whether to laugh or scoff.

You looked at him, still smiling, and motioned your hand back and forth in the air as if to say eh, maybe. Your grin broke into laughter at the look on his face, somehow twisted between amusement and bewilderment. You were interrupted by the sound of his cell phone ringing, sudden and loud. He quickly crossed the room to get it from the counter where he had left it earlier, leaving the beer in its place as he answered.

“Dean?” he paused, listening to whatever his brother was saying on the other end of the line. A couple of minutes trickled by as your curiosity ate at you, Sam humming in agreement a couple of times before confirming he was on his way.

“Heading out?” you asked, perplexed. Dean had the impala, their only car, where was Sam going to go on foot?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, pocketing his cell, “Yeah, Dean apparently needs me to drive him back. You want to come? I was going to walk over to the office and see about a cab or something.”

You bit back the grin forming on your face, ecstatic at the prospect of getting out of the cramped room.

---

It had taken some time but you and Sam had eventually found a way to the dive bar Dean had made his new residence. The cute girl behind the desk at the motel, the one that Sam had flirted with when he booked the room, had not looked happy to see you standing near the tall man. You had bitten your cheek to keep from laughing at her while you let Sam do all the talking. He had shyly flirted his way to getting the two of you a ride from her, since she had laughed in his face when he asked if the town had cabs and claimed the bar was too far to walk to. He had even gone as far as implying you were his sibling, stating “our brother…” when he explained that Dean needed a D.D. The girl had relaxed at that, smiled at him coyly and offered to shut the office for a minute while she took you across town.

You exited her small white sedan first, giving her a quick thanks as you shut the door and turned toward the bar. Sam took a moment to thank her properly and, apparently get her number. After a few minutes he joined you and she took off, heading back to the motel. While she was annoying and somewhat pitiful at flirting, you couldn’t deny you were glad the two of didn’t have to trudge across the sparse and widely-spaced town. The chick wasn’t lying when she said the bar wasn’t close.

“Well, shall we?” Sam asked, opening the door and ushering you in.

The clamor of bottles clinking and people laughing could be heard even over the loud music pumping from the old jukebox in the far corner. Cigarette smoke bit at your lungs as you slowly made your way through a crowd of leather-clad bikers and took a seat at the bar. So far neither of you had spotted Dean, but it was hard to see with the dim lighting and the hazy air.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender, a stout man with a wiry beard and a patch over one eye startled you. You had been searching the room for a familiar face and didn’t see him approach.

“Uh, water?” Sam answered. He didn’t want to drink, just wanted to get Dean and head back to the motel. He really had found a few leads and wanted a clear mind in the morning.

If the man cared that Sam had only ordered water, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked utterly disinterested as he turned to you. You held up a hand and shook your head, indicating you didn’t want anything, and turned back to the room.

Sam thanked the man and took a sip of his water as he, too, searched for his brother. A man began to shout in the far corner, near the jukebox and some pool tables. Great, you thought, a fight breaking out will just make it harder to spot Dean…

“Shit,” Sam interrupted your thoughts as he swiftly returned the glass in his hand to the bar, “c’mon, (Y/N).”

Sam took your hand and led you through the crowd toward the other end of the bar. The shouting became louder as you grew closer but you could also begin to hear someone replying to the angry man in between his bouts. The voice sounded familiar but with your height and the crowd of people that had gathered near the ruckus, you couldn’t see a thing. You were grateful for Sam’s tall stature and his ability to see the commotion.

“Eat shit,” Dean’s words weren’t exactly slurred, but he definitely wasn’t sober. You bit your lip, realizing the man was yelling at Dean, of all people. Shit, you echoed Sam’s earlier sentiment.

“Ok, ok,” Sam intervened, having made his way to the front of the crowd. He stood between the man and his brother while you waited on the sidelines, watching nervously. Had you ever been in a bar fight? You had no clue.

“Look, I’m sorry for my brother,” Sam started but the older man scoffed, cutting him off.

“This asshole’s your brother?”

“Watch who you’re calling asshole, dickbag,” Dean retorted.

“Stop,” Sam practically shouted but it was too late, the older man had already moved toward the two of them. Within seconds he shoved Sam back and took a swing at Dean. You found yourself shocked when Dean, intoxicated as he obviously was, easily dodged the hit.

Everything happened fast, after that. A friend of the bar patron had grabbed Dean’s arms from behind and held fast as the man had slugged him in the gut with his fist. Sam regained his footing and lunged at the man holding Dean back, who in turn released Dean. Dean had doubled over slightly when he had been hit but he was quick to strike back at the man, his own fist catching the man just above his eye. Before you could process your own actions, you were rushing into the fray and yelling at everyone to stop. Your voice was drowned out in between the music still pumping from the jukebox, the grunts, the groans and the yelling from the men.

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice shouted as you found yourself between him and the man he had offended. Holding your hands out you pleaded with the man to stop, and he tried, he really did try, but he was already mid-swing when you appeared.

The man’s fist connected with your cheek, hard. Probably a lot softer than it would have been for Dean, but fuck did it hurt. You stumbled backward into Dean, who caught you instinctually. The man backed up, apologizing. Whatever Dean had done to piss him off was apparently forgotten once he hit you. You could see the shame in his eyes as he looked over your quickly-swelling face. Within minutes you were outside in the cool night air, not knowing how you got there.

“What the fuck were you thinking, (Y/N)?!” Dean shouted once the three of you reached the impala, causing you to flinch and pull away from him.

You realized then that Dean had guided you out of the bar with an arm protectively held around your shoulders, Sam trailing closely behind the two of you. He turned you to face him, a hand on each of your arms, when you reached his car. He practically screamed at you in frustration, causing you to withdraw from his grasp and bite your bottom lip. Why was he so angry? Hadn’t you helped him? You felt your eyes begin to water and fought to keep the tears back as you backed away from the older Winchester. You bumped into Sam’s chest, not realizing he had been standing so closely. His hands mimicked Dean’s as he grasped your upper-arms and held tight before turning you around to face him.

“Are you ok?” his sincerity as his gaze flitted over your face broke your resolve. A few tears escaped and trickled down your cheeks before you quickly wiped them away. Ignoring both of the brothers you swiftly slid into the back seat of the Impala, more than ready to go back to the motel.

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