#she has been smoking 2-3 packs a day for as long as I have been alive

[endlessfuckup]

Are you okay?

Not really :/

Constantly dealing with one traumatic/chaotic event after another

[hansensgirl]

💸 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (2/3)

summary. | The mob boss has an alternate way you can pay off your debt.

pairing. | dark!mob boss!Ari Levinson x naive!fem!reader.

chapter warnings. | NON/DUBCON, dark themes, obsession, stalking, mob themes, manipulation, pet names, age gap, innocence kink, abuse of power, corruption kink, power imbalance, smoking (ari), debt, Daddy kink, control kink, rules, verbal contract, loss of employee, anxiety/fear, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~2k

author’s note. | series masterlist. here’s part two (finally)! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. any and all feedback (positive) is welcome. no beta, all mistakes are my own. taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

When you arrive at work the next day—stocking shelves at a grocery store—your boss regards you with far more contempt than before.

Your brows remain knitted as she approaches you, your uniforms matching, except she’s allowed to wear a sweater on top. You must suffer in the cold, with an aching back and sore arms and legs. She says your name to grab your full attention, which doesn’t take much, what with the boredom that drives you to death here.

“Why are you here?” Lydia asks. You’re confused. “…I work here?” you answer with a slight laugh to your tone, though you aren’t amused. You prefer to just do your job without a hitch.

“You don’t. And I don’t accept volunteers,” she nearly sneers, and you halt what you’re doing. She’s never been very nice, but this is another level. The cans of beans can wait. “What are you talking about, Lydia? Is this a joke?” you question, placing your hands on your hips.

“I fuckin’ wish. Your little mob boyfriend came around last night—said you quit,” she explains, and her words are bewildering. Once the absurdity blurs and the meaning hits you, you start to think. You rack your brain as to who would’ve done something like that.

Ari.

“Listen, I’ve already got a girl coming in later today. The job isn’t hard, s’not like I’m dying for you to stay,” Lydia sighs. Her words are harsh, but you expect nothing kind from the woman who is all too eager to fill her pockets.

“Go home. Don’t come back here,” your boss demands. You flinch from how she spits her words, watching as she walks off to harass one of your coworkers. Ex-coworkers.

You’re filled with ire as you pack your things up and say goodbye to people you’ve known for so long. As you walk home, you think about Lydia’s words. Why would Ari do something like that? You never hurt him—so why would he hurt you?

You start to worry about the grander things, too. You have no source of income anymore, just what you’ve saved. Soon, the bills will come in, and your rent will be due.

You near your home and spy a car parked outside. It’s fancy—an emulation of a vintage Impala. But it doesn’t belong in front of your dingy condominium. You know who owns it.

Some neighbours that loiter outside watch you. You’ve never been subject to their nosiness, and the feeling of scrutiny—the knowledge of judgement—is unwelcome. But that’s the least of your worries.

The mob leader is inside your home, and you have to confront him. What if Ari changed his mind about the deal? And he’s here to kill you? Your hands shake as you open the door, unable to prolong the confrontation. There is no upstairs—therefore, nowhere to run.

You swing the door open to find Ari sitting on your couch, watching the news on your television. He wears another one of his fancy suits—similar to the one from yesterday, but in a different colour. He sips something from one of your favourite mugs and sighs in relief afterwards.

You close the door behind you quietly. The locks click in place, and the sounds prompt Ari to look at you.

“Hey, hon,” he greets, giving you a charming smile. “H– Hi, Ari…” you respond, shrugging off your jacket and handing it on the lone hook. “You’ve got a nice home here,” Ari compliments, and you awkwardly press your lips together.

“Thanks,” you murmur, inching towards the kitchen. It isn’t much—the epitome of honest work. You take the compliment, though you’re unsure how you should feel. He lives in mansions bigger than you could possibly imagine. What’s so impressive about your small world?

The fact that he can turn it upside down—put a dent in it, shake it up, and it wouldn’t take much.

The television switches off, and the mob boss sighs. He stands up and saunters into the kitchen. You never realized how tall he is until now. You crane your head up to look at him, but the intensity of Ari’s gaze is too much to bear. You guide your gaze to the tiles.

“I needed to talk to you,” he starts, and you set the mug you had grabbed onto the countertop. Your thirst can wait. “Y– You have my number, right?” you ask, hoping your tone doesn’t come off as rude. Your voice is shaky with fear.

Ari grunts, eyes never once leaving your face. “You’re right. I do,” he agrees. You never gave it to him—he took it.

“But I prefer this. Being with you—talking to you, not texting,” Ari explains. You nod, briefly gazing at him before resuming your staring at the floor. Suddenly, a warm, large hand comes up to your chin and tilts your head up.

You’re forced to meet the older man’s gaze. For the first time, you note that his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue. There’s even a hint of green swirled into the oceans. “There are a few things we need to discuss. Important things,” Ari tells you.

“Like what?” you breathlessly ask. “Rules,” he says.

The thought of having rules isn’t as insulting as you want it to be. They would serve as guidelines—lifelines, little things you can hold onto for the next few months.

“C’mon, honey. Let’s go sit. I’m sure you’re tired after your long walk home,” Ari urges, guiding you to the living room with ease. You let him do whatever he wants—and that more than pleases the mob boss. But he doesn’t let you sit down.

First, Ari sits on the wingback chair you snagged from a yard sale at a decent price. Then, he pulls you onto his lap. You let out an ‘oomph!’ at the rudeness of his actions. He’s brazen and confident, everything you will never be, even in your lonesome times.

Ari lets out an exhale of relaxation, settling you on his thighs until both of you are comfortable. He holds you gently yet firmly, thumbs stroking your skin to get you to calm down.

“Doesn’t this feel nice? Right?” the older man asks, but you’re not sure how to respond. Your honesty is embarrassing, but your deceit will offend him. “I– It does,” you admit, much to your chagrin.

“Exactly—so why fight it? Why fight me?” Ari questions, and you shrug. You’ve never been good at confrontation. “I– I’m not. I’m just… confused. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never even dated anyone!” you exclaim, though your voice is nothing more than a whisper.

Ari shushes you, one of his hands rubbing circles on your back so that you don’t get worked up. “Shh… It’s okay. Don’t worry,” he tells you, his tone gentle and full of patience—kindness, perhaps even love. The idea is baffling.

“All that purity is what makes you so precious,” he whispers in your ear, nose nuzzling the side of your head. He smells of cigarettes and expensive cologne. “And that’s exactly why I want you, sweetie. You’re… innocent. Perfect. All mine…”

You sigh shakily at his words. They have you flustered. No man has ever charmed you the way he has. “Th– Thank you…”

“I’m here for you, princess. Anything you need, you come to me. Got that?” he reassures, and you nod your head. You doubt you’ll ever ask Ari for anything—but you do have a question for him.

“C– Can I ask you something?” you wonder. The mob boss smiles and gives you the go. “Did you go to my job and tell them I quit?”

A few moments of silence pass. “Yes, and I wanted to tell you this before, but I had to take care of some other stuff,” he quickly explains, but his words are slow and calm. They’re not rushed or panicked.

“You always wake up early, so I didn’t have enough time to get here before you went to work,” Ari finishes, lips pressed into a line, showing just how disappointed he is in himself.

“I– I’m not upset about that,” you clarify, looking down at your hands. “Then what is it, sugar? Hm?” he presses.

The pet names make you feel so sweet in the mind, almost hazy. You’ve always dreamed of love like this—but you know what you and Ari have isn’t love. You’ve always been naive, but you’re a realist.

“What am I supposed to do? I need money to live, Ari,” you say almost incredulously. Ari’s smile grows like he’s holding back a secret that he’s been dying to tell you.

“I told you not to worry about these things, honey,” he chides. “I’ll take care of you—as long as you follow the rules,” Ari warns, but he remains kind. So far, in your eyes, the benefits are all too enticing.

Will the rules be the other shoe that’s been waiting to drop? No, impossible—Ari is too kind to be so cruel.

“What are the rules?” you ask him. “They’re pretty simple, nothing you need to worry your little head about,” Ari coos, making you feel much more relaxed.

“Firstly, you always have to look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he begins, spreading his thighs out just a bit as he settles further into the chair. You mindlessly nod before catching yourself and correcting your error.

You reluctantly make eye contact with Ari, which bears to be too much, so you settle for staring at the beauty marks littered across his face.

“Good girl,” he hums. The praise makes you feel warm on the inside—safe, even in the arms of the most dangerous man in the city.

“Secondly,” Ari resumes, eyes remaining locked with yours. You take the time to admire the little details on his face. The freckles and beauty spot, the grey hairs in his beard, and the battle scar on his forehead slightly covered by his long locks. “You don’t call me ‘Ari,’ baby. It’s ‘Daddy’ from now on.”

The question of why—and even a negotiation to have this rule only apply behind closed doors—fizzles on your tongue. Instead, you acquiesce.

“Yes… Daddy.”

Ari lets out a small growl at your words. You actually saying the word is much better than he ever imagined. The mob boss can feel blood rushing to his cock, but he wills himself to stay strong. Not yet—it’s too soon, he thinks to himself.

“Thirdly, honey,” he continues, voice laboured and a bit gruff. “You’re not allowed to tell me ‘no.’ Ever.”

Ari firmly lays down the third law, leaving no room for your freedom. You can feel your independence slipping away, but you reassure yourself. It’ll only be for a few months. Perhaps this is for your own good. Yes, that’s it.

“Okay…” you whisper under your breath. Ari ignores your slight mishap. He knows you’ll return to being his perfect girl in no time. He understands—ever the kind man.

“Lastly—and most importantly—is that you must always listen to me, no matter what,” he gently adds. Ari runs his hands up and down your back, soothing you from how he’s completely changed your world. “Got it all, baby?” the older man asks.

You hesitate before nodding. “Good girl,” Ari coos, and you can’t help but smile. He’s sweeter than you believed. “Now, I could make you sign a contract,” he sighs, his gentle face morphing into one that looks stressed, perhaps even disappointed. There is a pang in your heart.

“But I trust you. Don’t ruin that.”

A threat hangs in the air, but you’re too grateful to see it. Ari knows this all too well, and he can’t help but feel pride over how he managed to get you to fall into his lap. What would a girl like you ever do without a strong man like him by your side? Not much, that’s what.

“I won’t, Daddy. I promise,” you eventually break the silence, and you’re gifted with Ari’s knee-buckling smile.

[neonovember]

Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕

to carry and to bear

ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon <3

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting

word count: 5k (short for me lmao)

a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going

Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.

Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.

it’s slow though.

The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.

The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth. 

Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.

You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets. 

Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.

It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.

So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.

Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.

She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.

You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion. 

The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face. 

It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.

Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.

Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.

You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight. 

Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.

You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing. 

Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.

“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall. 

“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.

“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.

“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies 

“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of  ingredients

“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.

“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies

“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.

You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.

Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.

The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.

“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding

“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.

Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.

“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.

Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.

You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.

Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done. 

Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.

“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly

“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.

“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.

“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away

“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles

“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes 

“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.

“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply

“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name

“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin” 

You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.

“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.

You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.

“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.

“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply

“But-” Marcus protests

“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.

You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill

“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.

“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply

Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to” 

“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.

You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove

By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.

You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.

“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.

That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.

“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this. 

“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely

“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.

“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly

“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off

“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks

“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands". 

“Excuse me?”

Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man

“I told you”

Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath

You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.

“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.

“Call a fucking ambulance�� Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.

“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries

“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.

“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start

Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder

“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.

“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.

You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.

All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.

“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger

“What?!” 

“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling

And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.

Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.

Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.

“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls

“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen. 

“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.

Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.

“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.

“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head

“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies

—-

Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.

Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.

Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.

You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.

Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.

His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.

“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.

"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.

“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.

You stay quiet,  confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.

Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.

“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.

You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,

“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as  you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.

It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.

You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.

You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.

You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.

It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.

Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time

“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.

“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies

You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.

“The vendors, aren't they-”

“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.

You peek at him in question “Well?”

“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal

“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.

“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks

You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.

“I don't know” You reply

Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach. 

“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.

Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.

“I’m making you something”

“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him

Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.

“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above. 

“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.

“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again

“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone” 

“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you. 

You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 9

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 5.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues, canon typical violence* Violence, kidnapping, physical violence, discussion of torture, descriptions of injuries sustained while being held captive, fear of mistreatment, certainty of death. Summary: As your disappearance makes him increasingly desperate, Javi enlists Carrillo to help him and Murphy track you down. The nature of his relationship to you is a revelation to some, but one person knows more than expected. Notes: Another heavy week. High violence warning this chapter! It's all canon-typical, but Narcos is a high-violence show. This chapter contains descriptions of the mistreatment of prisoners. (As usual, I apologize for an errors I may have missed in editing.)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

Pablo talks for hours. Expounding on his business while making it seem as if everything he had done has been completely legal and above board. Never actually admitting that it is cocaine that he is running. Griping about the interference of the U.S. and the threat of extradition.

He talks until the sun starts to set, the light starting to fade against the walls. He’s gone through a pack of cigarettes and there’s been several cokes brought in for him. And one for you after he had noticed you staring at the bottle.

Sitting back, he crushes out the last smoke and looks at you. “We will stop here for now.” He announces.

For now.

You nod, feeling weak and tired from having had no food or sleep in well over twenty-four hours. Any adrenaline that had carried you through earlier parts of the day has flagged and the bone-deep exhaustion of fear is starting to set in. That soda may have been a good will gesture but it won't do a damn thing in terms of keeping your body going.

For now, he said.

"We will continue when you're ready." This won't happen any other way. No part of this gives you even a shadow or pretense of control – this is Pablo Escobar talking at a journalist, and it's your job to simply regurgitate the information. Thank god you're not still taking notes by hand otherwise you're pretty sure your fingers would be cramping beyond recognition. He talked all goddamn day without stopping.

“Bring her something to eat.” Pablo tells one of the men who had originally kidnapped you. He had disappeared for a few hours, but now he was back. “Take her to a room on the other side of the house.”

A perfunctory “Yes, boss” comes before the man yanks you up off the chair you’ve been attached to all day and a younger man — a teenager at best — scrambles to cut the tape from your ankles.

Stumbling is your best form of movement with the speed at which they push you along. It’s clear you are in a mansion wherever you are, as the other ‘end’ of the house is a long trek away. Two men propel you down a flight of stairs into the basement, where a room in one end of the space is apparently meant to be your prison for the time being. Inside the small room they toss you into, there are only a few exposed pipes and nothing else. Enrique — or whatever his real name is — enters with a wolfish grin and a set of chains, saying nothing while he cuffs and chains your hands to two of the pipes. A bare cement floor, torn clothes, and chains. That is what you’ll be dealing with tonight. And if you’re lucky, the worst thing that will happen is pissing yourself. Escobar had allowed you a single bathroom break today — and only because he had realized that he needed one himself.

“I think you don’t need food.” Enrique snorts as he turns around. “You won’t starve to death. Might do you some good. Bitch.”

“Do you always disobey orders on a whim?” Fat bitch remarks are just the right level of petty to piss you off right now, and even feeling weak you still have a smart mouth.

“I’ll make an exception for stupid American bitches.” He sneers, turning around and shooting you a glare. “Keep your mouth shut unless you want a cock stuffed in it until you choke.”

The threat is obvious. And real. And entirely what you expected. But that doesn’t stop you from summoning what little muster you have and spitting on him with gusto. “You’ll have to find somebody with a cock over two millimeters first.”

He huffs a laugh for a moment before he rushes over and kicked you in the side as hard as he can. Once and then one more after you gasp out in pain.

Well, you definitely hit a nerve, at least. The pair of men who threw you in here disappear, slamming and locking the door behind them. It isn’t until the second afterward that you realize there is truly going to be no relief at all tonight. No hoping to be dumped in the jungle with your cassette tapes to survive by your own wits. No dumping you back in the trunk of that car to be tossed out again in the streets of Bogotá. Not even the swift release of being shot.

The best you can hope is that your eyes adjust to the pitch blackness and that no one comes back to beat or rape you tonight.

******

“We don’t have time to fucking waste with this bullshit!” Javi hisses, jaw clenched and he’s ready to just rush past both Steve and Carrillo to make the woman talk. She had kept her mouth shut so far and he’s tired of this. Every second they waste is another second that you could be abused like Helena or worse. He’s checked his marks from you nearly a dozen times in the past twenty minutes alone.

“She’s the only lead we’ve got.” Steve reminds him, raking one exasperated hand through his hair. This woman has been terrified into silence and nothing is cracking her. A waitress for fuck’s sake.

Javi’s eyes are flatter than they’ve ever been before. “Then we torture her.”

Murphy’s mouth flattens in turn, not because they haven’t done it before but because Peña is too invested. But at the same time, his partner has to be in the room to catch any vital piece of information that the interrogation might produce. He’s been intentionally cagey with information about his living situation and now it’s obvious why. “We do.” Murphy bargains, gesturing between himself and Carrillo. “You don’t lay a finger. Got it?”

He’s not happy with that answer, even if he’s never really been one to torture someone. He’s watched, sometimes feeling sorry for the bastard, although it’s hard to feel sorry for a sicario. This is a civilian woman and while he should want to protect her, he wants to find you more. “Fine.” He growls, glaring at Steve.

"Listen, ask questions, but let us do the work." Us means mostly Carrillo and they all know it. Murphy is a little too moral to be hung-ho about red-blooded American information gathering techniques, but they all know this is too important to fuck around with today.

Javi clenches his jaw, his entire body rigid with worry that comes out as pure fury, but he nods. He should have had it out with you. He should have demanded Trujillo go with you. It’s his goddamn fault you are missing. Every fucking thing that happens to you right now is because of him.

"Alright, sweetheart." Steve strolls across the room with a raised voice, bypassing the open doorway which effectively leaves Javier behind while Murphy and Carrillo do the dirty work. Even though he knows Javi won't stay put. For that matter, he shouldn't. He just needs to stay far enough away that he keeps his hands clean – in a literal sense. "I think we've had enough stalling, haven't we?" It's become clear through the first part of this interrogation – however fruitless – that this woman does speak English, which is good for Steve if nothing else.

She tries to appear like she doesn’t understand, keeping her face blank as her eyes shift to the man behind her. She knows him. She’s seen him somewhere. She just can’t place where right now.

"Answer him." Carrillo orders in Spanish, his expression as stone-faced as ever. He hasn't heard all the details but he doesn't need to. Peña has done enough for him with interrogations in the past that he's willing to help if it's this important to the man.

“I don’t know what they want.” She answers Carrillo in Spanish, waiting for the other one to come and scream in her face again. He’s the one she’s scared of. Especially if it’s true that Escobar kidnapped his soulmate.

"Yes you do." It's clear she's stubborn but not stupid, and Carrillo is more than sure that it's clear to her exactly what Peña wants. He looks over at Murphy, inviting him to take over again. "She claims not to know what you want."

"Sure you do." Murphy stands directly in front of her, arms crossed and looking down his nose at the waitress that has been stonewalling them for hours. "What's Escobar got on you, huh? He got your sister or your mom or baby brother locked away somewhere?"

Javi marches into the room, pulling out your press pass to the embassy from his pocket. He had snatched it from your room and he shoves it in her face. “This woman! You saw her!”

"I see a lot of people." She drawls, affecting nonchalance in the face of the only one of these three men she is actually afraid of. It's the way she deals with the sicarios, too.

“Javier.” Carrillo turns to Javi, putting his hand on the other man’s chest and lifting a brow when he feels how hard his heart is pounding. Whoever this woman is to him - he hadn’t learned that yet - this is really getting to him. “Go watch.” He orders softly. “We’ve got this.”

"Most people who get taken by sicarios don't live long enough to be found again." He is so deeply intent on finding this woman – the scary one is – and while she feels something akin to sympathy she also has to look out for her and hers. "Or if they do, they wish they hadn't."

“She’s fucking alive.” Javi snaps, nearly snarling at the woman for voicing his fears. How broken would you be when you are found? If you are found? For all he knows, Pablo will mail him your body in pieces.

"Is she?" She seems dubious of that fact. Or maybe dubious of these men.

Javi stares at her, glaring at her for a moment before he leans down slightly and yanks the edge of his jeans up, kicking off his boot and sock to reveal the tattoo that is never visible to many. “She is.” He hisses again. “Her tattoo is still on my body.”

The air is sucked out of the room so quickly that Murphy actually turns away, wiping his hands down his face as he tries to process just how fucked they really are. The waitress, restrained as she is, doesn't have to strain forward a single inch to see the anchor tattoo on the man's ankle. It was the same one — with a word in English — that she had seen on that American woman last night. She gulps down a nervous breath, eyes darting up to his, and wets her lips. "I don't know where they took her."

“So she was there last night.” Javi scoffs, reaching down and swiping his boot off the floor before he turns to Horacio. “I don’t care what it takes.” He tells the other man in Spanish, aware she will listen in. “I want to know everything.”

"Peña..." Carrillo levels him with a warning expression, wondering if he is really willing to take this interrogation to the end of the earth for a soulmate that he, and seemingly Murphy, have never even heard of before.

His eyes are flat, almost black, glancing back at the woman in the chair who suddenly looks like she’s about the throw up. “Find her family.” He decides. “Bring them here.”

"They already have my family!" He has found the key, it seems, because the woman is now borderline frantic in her restraints. "If you go to find them, Escobar's men will kill them out right!"

Carrillo stares at Javi for another moment, waiting for the man’s expression to soften, but he doesn’t waver. Making the SearchBloc commander’s brows shoot up. It seems that Peña is willing to go even farther than what was needed to save Helena. He’s got it bad for this soulmate of his and he hadn’t even realized it until now. “Tell us everything you know and we can protect them, and you.” He promises her, turning back around to face her struggling in the chair. “Keep wasting our time, and my friend- I’m afraid that I don’t know what he would do.”

"Listen, sweetheart." Steve rolls his shoulders, gasping at straws to try to figure out if he can stop all of this bullshit before literal torture of this woman begins in earnest. He may not be the most moral motherfucker out there but this is still something he isn't totally comfortable with. "I believe you. You don't know where they took her. But you do know who took her, doncha?"

Swallowing harshly, she looks at the blonde American, biting her lip and nodding. “Yes.” She whispers in English.

"I get that you don't wanna make the sicarios mad." Seeing that he's cracked the surface, Murphy kneels down to be eye-to-eye with the woman. She can't be more than thirty years old, and more than likely she's much younger. The stress of a life lived in the shadow of a cartel ages people far before their time. "You just want to protect your family. But we can help you with that. We just need to know what you know, and we'll help you keep your family safe. How does that sound?"

“They own the building we live in.” She stresses, shaking her head. “Our lives are all hanging by a thread. All the time.”

"Well." Murphy offers her a smile, dropping his voice to push the drawl and laying that Southern charm on thick. "Ain't it good that we own apartment buildings, too?"

“Pablo knows everything that goes on.” She whispers. “His men are always around. Watching. Listening.”

"You've been with us long enough." He reminds her quietly. "They're going to think you talked no matter what. But if you actually cooperate we can help you. Even get you some visas if you help us enough." He takes a stab in the dark, hoping he's got it right, and tilts his head sympathetically. "How many kids do you have?"

“Dos.” she frowns. “Two. Two boys. They are only six.” Again her face sets into a panic, but it’s almost resigned. Like she’s becoming more aware of the fact that she is going to die. All because of Enrique wanting the American that comes in sometimes.

"My little girl's still a baby." Murphy nods in shared solemnity and looks back at Carrillo and Peña. "Visas for a mother and two sons in exchange for information leading to the return of a DEA agent's soulmate." He lays it out flatly, waits for Carrillo to nod, and turns back to the waitress. The visas won't be for America, but they'll at least get the woman and her kids out of the country and far enough away to hopefully give them a second chance. "Who took the American woman?"

“Enrique and Santiago Alvarez.” She knows that a visa will be the best offer she will get. She is in the middle of a power struggle and while Pablo has the force necessary here, he has far less control outside of Colombia. “Pablo’s men.”

Shit. Murphy glances back at Peña and Carrillo, recognizing the names all too well as ruthless enforcers who work directly for Escobar. “That’s good, sweetheart,” he tells the waitress soothingly when he swallows down the fear that his partner’s marks might not be around too much longer. “Was anyone else involved?”

“Our cook.” She swallows. “He didn’t want to, but everyone had to do what they say. They would have killed him. They are going to kill me when they learn I’ve talked.”

“They won’t.” He can’t be sure of that, obviously, but Murphy is going to be as reassuring as possible right now. “We’re going to give you our best protection.”

“Like that politician?” She snorts, wondering how the hell she gets out of this with her skin intact.

Murphy exhales, a long and disappointed sound. “He refused to follow our security recommendations,” he tells her sharply.

She senses that was the wrong button to push and she nods. “I won’t disobey anything.” She promises.

“Good.” He won’t guarantee her more, but at least knowing she’s wearing a damn tacvest if they have one to her is a helpful sign of cooperation. “Then let’s go back through everything you remember from last night.”

******

The door clanks as much as a heavy wooden door can, right before it bursts open. Enrique grinning as he see you jump, but your eyes are still closed. Swollen slightly, but not enough to piss off the boss. “Wake up, bitch.” He hisses, kicking at your feet and then your leg when you don’t respond fast enough.

“I’m assuming it’s morning?” Not that you could tell in this cement prison. Not that you weren’t woken up every few hours last night so someone else could kick you across the floor or use you as a punching bag.

“Still mouthy.” Enrique snorts, shaking his head. He had thought you would have learned some manners by now, but Americans are stupid it seems.

"I'm not dumb enough to think I'm gonna get out of here alive." If you had had any glimmer of hope before, the continuous beatings you got last night were proof that they have no intention of going easy on you here. Or maybe the fact that it was only beatings was their version of 'easy'. Either way, you make a show of shrugging your shoulders. "The least I can do is make an impression."

He’s impressed with your tenacity and stubbornness, even if he’s dragging you to your feet and shoving you. “Go.” He barks. “The boss wants you.”

"Can't wait for him to see my face." It sounds pithy or sarcastic, but you actually wonder – as much as you can focus on thoughts other than keeping your feet moving under you so you don't fall over – if he'll be upset that his lackeys kicked the shit out of you last night. With your face swollen and blood and piss staining your clothes, there's no way they can pretend that you were well taken care of last night.

“Bitch.” He hisses, shoving you again, but he hadn’t really thought about that. Pablo would be pissed at him. “Come on.” He growls, guiding you out of the basement and towards the bedroom you were supposed to stay in last night.

Expecting to be shoved along the length of the main floor of the hidden mansion like you were yesterday, you're surprised to be pushed up an extra flight of stairs and down a hallway into another mostly empty room. This one at least has a bed in it, and fear flits across your mind for yet another countless time. "What the hell are we doing up here?" You ask, deciding to mouth off one more time and pray that it won't be the very last.

“Shut the fuck up.” He huffs, pushing you towards the door across the room. “You have five minutes to shower.”

A shower. And then putting the same filthy clothes back on. It seems utterly useless but maybe the reminder of being covered in dirt and blood is part of the point. Humiliating the prisoner.

Whatever.

You're getting a chance to shower and you're not going to throw that away on the fact that you're going to have to put dirty clothes back on after. The chance to wash your wounds and hopefully stave off any possible infections is worth it, and you dive into the bathroom immediately. Wasting precious seconds is not an option.

Once the door is closed, Enrique moves to the closet and pulls out the larger dress that had been procured. He tosses it on the bed and scoffs when he hears a quiet groan from inside the bathroom.

It's the fastest shower you've taken since summer camp when you were thirteen, but it's glorious to scrub the dirt from your skin and to carefully tend to the wounds you can see through swollen eyes. Most of the damage is probably internal and you can't do anything about those, but you'll take this. You'll take this chance to wash your hair and wipe away the grime from your body.

After what you assume is five minutes, the water shuts off on its own. Somebody somewhere in the house has cut you off, but it's fine. You managed to clean up and for now you're going to take what you can get. There's a towel on the edge of the sink that you didn't notice originally. It's not big enough to wrap around you but you can at least dry off.

Prepared to put your old clothes back on, you step out into the bedroom and see the dress flung out on the bed waiting for you. There's no hint of underwear and you have no idea what happened to your shoes, but there is a clean item of clothing that actually looks like it might fit you. Taking a chance, you rummage through the drawers of the dresser – the only other piece of furniture in the room – and find a pair of boxers that clearly belonged to a large man. They'll do perfectly well for you, and you tug them on under the dress and can't believe how human it feels to just be clean again.

Enrique beats on the door, only a few seconds before he flings it open. “Let’s go.” He grunts, glaring at you like it’s your fault that he’s had to let you shower.

"What?" Feeling infinitely better just from five minutes of hot water and soap, you move past him the best you can on shaky, weak legs. "No words of appreciation for feminine beauty? That's why you're so angry, ya know."

“You’re lucky Pablo wants you right now.” He hisses, grabbing your arm and dragging you out of the room.

Now it's back down to the same table where you sat all day yesterday. Enrique shoves you along until his boss is barely in sight. It's only at that point that he pushes you one last time then lets you walk forward of your own accord. He really must have been under orders to go easy on you. There isn't even a gun to your back today.

Pablo calls your name, a smile on his face until you get closer and the sight of your face becomes very obvious. “What happened?” He demands, staring at your face and then looking back at Enrique.

"You ought to keep a tighter leash on your men." You have no fear of throwing any of these bastards under the proverbial bus of Pablo Escobar's anger. It's as if being bound to a chair while he shot a man yesterday has only made you more acutely aware of how that could easily have been you and your fight or flight reflex has chosen to fight with words.

“I see.” He narrows his eyes and motions to Enrique. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” He hisses angrily. “Go to fucking Medellín.”

Well...it's better than having to witness another man's murder. Though you can't pretend you'd be upset for Enrique to be punished. "I assume I wasn't supposed to be starved in a room in the basement, either?" You prompt, knowing full well that he had told the bastards to feed you.

“Fuck.” Pablo shakes his head and shouts for another sicario to come to him right fucking now.

"Boss." The man he called over is doing his best to cover up the fact that he's nervous, and you wonder if he's one of the ones that came in last night to kick you across the room or not.

“Get her some fucking food and something to goddamn drink.” He growls, looking towards you with a hard glare. “This is not the treatment I wished for you to have.” He admits.

While you're sure it isn't the worst that anyone has endured here by far, you still nod. "I understand that." It doesn't make you like him by any stretch of the imagination. In fact? It just makes you think of him as a sniveling little suck up, trying to curry favor with the American journalist.

“Good.” Pablo sighs, tapping the table and standing. “We will wait to continue the interview.” He decides.

“Of course.” He is in charge, after all. You may be surviving this ordeal with your mouth and your wits, but you aren’t stupid enough to think anyone else is in control.

“Sleep, eat.” He orders. “We will talk later. You need to be able to write this article clear headed.”

It goes on like that for days.

You're fed and that small bedroom to sleep in, with only minimal instances of guards bursting into the room in the middle of the night to beat you in places that your dress covers – which is why you're fairly certain you have a few broken ribs and are astonished that no crippling damage has been done to your back. One of the men the first night definitely broke your nose but much of the other swelling has gone down over the course of the days and nights that Pablo Escobar keeps your hostage in his hidden estate.

Every day you fill up tape after tape just letting him talk, and at night he lets you write. The article will have to be finished eventually, but the more he talks, the more material you have. And while you remain acutely aware that your lifespan directly relies on how long it takes you to write the piece he wants, there is another notebook hidden in that little bedroom that is your story. The account of how you're treated, how he treats his sicarios, the identities of those sicarios, and as much information as you can cram into it about the location you're being kept. All written in short hand like your own private code, the second your private notebook makes it into a secretary's hands at the embassy, it can easily be translated and distributed to anyone who can make use of the information.

******

“GODDAMNIT.” The entire department has become used to the sound of slamming drawers and papers being flung across the room the in frustration. Eyes wary as they glance towards the closed door and wonder how long it will take for it to slam open and Javier Peña to come rampaging out like a bull on the loose. His normal sarcastic charm is non-existent and everyone has felt the force of his temper. “Where the fuck are the satellite photos?”

"They're coming. We just called for them five minutes ago." Steve has sorted to being ultra-calm in the face of his partner's frantic chaos. It's not the survival technique he expected to use, but he does understand. Every single day he goes home late and holds Connie close, grateful that it wasn't her that went missing instead.

“She- it’s been days!” He hasn’t slept and his hands are shaking from the amount of caffeine he has lived off of. His eyes are gritty and heavy, but every fucking time they close he sees your body sprawled out.

"And she is still alive." The marks on Javi's body are proof that you're still hanging on, although both men have voiced their surety that more will join the set he already has in the days and weeks and months to come. There is no way you aren't being hurt, wherever you are. "We'll find her." He repeats the mantra for the hundredth time today. He has to believe it, or else Javi might break.

“Every fuckin hour- every hour that passes.” Javi closes his eyes and shudders. “You know what they will do to her. What they are doing.” He can’t think about that right now, he can’t. He has to focus on finding you. He’s already gone to some of his lesser acceptable contacts for any information he can find. It’s worth the possibility of selling his soul to the devil.

"Peña!" Carrillo's voice comes in a holler from down the hall. Not the photos they expected, but only one small piece of paper clutched in his hand.

He startles, leaping up from his desk and rushing towards the SearchBloc commander. “What is it?”

"We have leads." Carrillo shoves the information into Peña's shaking hands instantly. "Enrique and Santiago Alvarez have been spotted in four different places in as many days. Driving the same car that the waitress identified as their getaway vehicle. They're either headed for Cali, or for Bucaramanga. Which..." His lips purse, displeased. "Are in opposite directions."

“Fuck.” Javi hisses as he stares at the paper, squinting slightly. “They could be trying to throw us off. Or they are stupid enough to think we don’t know what they drove when they kidnapped her.”

"One team in each direction?" Steve suggests, having followed Peña into the hall to find out what Carrillo had found.

"They wouldn't take her to Cali." Javi reasons, staring at the information written as if it would magically give him more. "The Rodrigez brothers would not appreciate him bringing trouble to Cali. Paco Herras has already warned them."

"As far as we know, there are no labs or safe houses in Bucaramanga." The term 'safe' in safe house is relative if Carrillo knows about the place, but the point remains. As far as they know, Escobar has no solid footholds in that particular city. "Might be somewhere nearby. But that's a lot of area to cover, plus mountains and ocean."

"Order it searched." Javi crumples the paper in his hand. "I don't give a fuck if I need to have the Marines go in."

"We'll be ready to go the second you find something." Steve tells Carrillo, giving the other man a nod before he jogs away down the hall. If anything, Murphy is the optimism of the group right now so he has to believe that something will be found.

He watches Carrillo turn and stride down the hall, his footsteps quick and determined but it will still be hours, or maybe days before he learns anything. "I can't just sit here." Javi growls, slapping his hand against his thigh and turning to grab his jacket off the back of his chair.

"Where are we going?" Steve grabs his coat instantly, not willing to let his partner go anywhere alone. Mostly out of concern, but also because Peña is so wired and exhausted all at once that he might succumb at any point. The last thing the man needs is to fall asleep at the wheel on his way to find his soulmate.

"Stay here." Javi shakes his head, knowing that Steve would neither approve, nor want to be a part of what he was about to do.

“Where are we going?” Steve repeats, continuing to follow his partner down the hall.

"I'm serious, stay the fuck here." Javi hisses, glaring over his shoulder at Steve and putting a little more effort in his steps to get some distance from the long-legged bastard. "I don't need you fucking something else up."

"I've been fucking helping you, asshole!" Steve points out, hollering back with his own frustration bubbling over. It's been four days since Peña's soulmate went missing and he's been understandably insufferable.

Stopping short, Javi whirls around and grabs Steve by the lapels of his jacket, pushing him back against the wall with heavy thud. "You're the fucking reason she was unprotected!" He angrily accuses him. "You had to bring Elisa to my fucking house and leave her there. Complicating my life and pissing her off where she wouldn't even fucking look at me when she left!" His face is twisted in rage and regret, making the scowl even darker as he glares at the blonde man.

"I didn't make you fuck her!" Steve reminds him, growling right back as days' worth of exhaustion and anger boils over in both of them.

His face tenses and for a moment, neither one of them knows if Javi is going to punch him. After a second, he lets him go and his hands drop to his sides. Steve's right, he didn't have to fuck Elisa and this is all on him. He doesn't say anything else, just turns and flees down the hall.

******

Escobar does the same thing each day when he decides he is done talking to you, and you’re continuously unsurprised to find it is always right before his dinner time. The man is selfish in every way, including wanting a long and indulgent meal at the end of things.

But each day he will slap one hand on the table between you, stub out his cigarette with the other, and proclaim that you need something to eat. Apparently the treatment he wished for you to have is coffee in the morning, Coca-Cola and cigarettes — always shared with him — during the day, and a child’s portion of whatever he is eating for dinner. You never complain because you’re not stupid, but it does seem like treating you as a prized prisoner really always was his goal. Never letting you have any illusion that your life is in his hands.

As if you could ever think anything else.

“You need to eat something.” Pablo crushes out his cigarette and sends you a smile. “I’m eager to see what you have written so far.” He adds.

“It’s written in shorthand at the moment.” Turning the pad of paper you’re allowed to take notes on over in your hands to show him, you set it down on the table with the confidence that he won’t have a clue what it means. “If you would like, I’ll write it out tonight for you to read in the morning? So you can approve before we go on.” His version, of course. Not the one you’ve been actively writing for days now that is your real article. The one you’ll give him to read will be full of his naked lies and ambitions.

“Good.” He nods and looks very pleased with the idea. “A few more days and you will be able to send the truth to your papers.” He shrugs. “Maybe even win you that prize for journalists.”

“Perhaps.” A few more days. It’s disarming, to hear your expiration date said out loud like that. It makes you wonder how often the Pulitzer in journalism is ever awarded posthumously. “You will decide when you are satisfied with it.” And when he’s done with you.

“Of course.” He dismisses the very notion that he would allow anything else. “It will be the perfect way to show your soulmate that I am not the enemy.”

Very careful not to react sharply or irrationally, you exhale a measured breath and raise your head from looking at your notebook. "My what?" He fucking knows. Of course he does. Javier is in so much danger and doesn't even realize half of it...

He tilts his head, amusement glittering in his eyes. “You do not know?” He asks mockingly. “I know of your soulmate.” He teases. “I have a price on his head. And you will bring him to me.”

------

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06 @southernbe @cloudroomblog @the-queen-of-sorrows

[satinsummer]

Chapter 1: Likewise

Summary: The first time you met Sam you knew you had to have her but how would you get her?

Culinary is your major but sports media is your side quest that turned you into a dual degree seeking mf! ;)

Chapter 2: https://www.tumblr.com/satinsummer/761133841884889088/chapter-2-movie-night?source=share

WARNING: Suggestive Language, Drug Use (Smoking Weed) 18+ No men or minors pls and thanks!

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

Nobody POV

It all started at Y/BF/N's soccer game, after a long day of running around a hot kitchen with no break, sitting on the cold metal bleachers was the only thing that brought Y/N some sort of solace that fated night.

Sitting all the way at the top wasn't the best choice with the way her legs and feet were aching but it was tradition, especially since this was not only the first game of the season but this was Y/BF/N's first senior game and Y/N wouldn't miss it for the world! As she's scanning the crowd and just taking everything in Y/N noticed the "Core 4" + Anika as Chad so happily calls them making their way through the packed area.

Tara, Mindy, Anika and some mystery lady Y/N has never met stop and start talking to Quinn who just so happened to know few players on the team. Chad just continued to climb the bleachers until he reached Y/N.

"Yoo Y/N" Chad says with a big ass smile on his face, arms stretched out to hug her. "Hey Chad" Y/N says smiling but not moving an inch. "Sorry I realllyyyy don't feel like standing up unless I absolutely HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE but to" She stated now eyeing the mystery lady following behind Tara while they continued their ascend up the bleachers having now finished the conversation with Quinn.

Before Y/N or Chad get to say anything else Tara is barreling past him and pulling Y/N into a hug. "Where have you been all day, under a fucking rock??My girlfriend has not stopped talking about how sad she is because she didn't think you'd make it. I was honestly starting to think she loved you more than me and so I had to show her who she belo-" "OKAY THATS ENOUGH" Slapping a hand over Tara's mouth be she gets too carried away. "Anyway I was afraid of not making it because dinner service was a shit show and- Who's She?"

Y/N had finally stood up and looked behind Tara after pulling back from the embrace to shoot Mindy and Anika a small wave and smile but instead she was met with the most gorgeous set of chocolate colored eyes she'd ever seen. It felt like her the entire world stopped.

She stood there just staring back at her, eyes dark and brooding scanning over your face as Y/N did hers. Her hair was framing her face perfectly, her eyebrows were knit in concentration or maybe it was confusion either way Y/N just wanted to reach out and soothe it over with her thumb but she fought against it.

"Keep staring and I'll make sure I'm the last thing you see" And that's all it takes to knock Y/N out of whatever spell she was under while looking at mystery lady. "SAM! You cant threaten to kill everyone that looks at you, especially not my girlfriends best friend. Y/N she didn't mean that. Right Sam?" Tara said ending her sentence with an elbow to Sam's side. "Yeah, Right" she grumbled rolling her eyes at Tara before sitting down.

A bit after you and mystery lady's SAM's moment, everyone gets settled to watch the game as it begins. "So Sam, is this your first time at a soccer game?" Y/N asks, looking over at sam who was already looking at her. "Yeah" Sam replies never taking her eyes off of Y/N. "Want me to explain it? Help you under a bit better?" Y/N offers. "Nope" and with that Sam turns her back around to the game and doesn't say another word. That is until the game is over and Y/BF/N is running to Y/N as she pushes her way on to the field to greet Y/BF/N.

Y/BF/N played one of her best games EVER tonight, she came away with 2 goals-2 assist and 3 steals. She plays hard so when her and Y/N finally meet in the middle she's throwing her body on Y/N like a kid seeing their mom after the first day of school. She's overjoyed to have won and to know her best friend, her girlfriend and their friends were there to have witnessed it. "I'm so fucking proud of you, Y/B/NN. You were a goddamn storm out there!" Y/N shouts while rocking back and forth still embracing Y/BF/N. As the two girls pull back from each other and start doing their handshake, the rest of the group has made their was down to the field and over to them.

Tara pulls Y/BF/N into a big ass hug that ends in a kiss Sam would've paid money not to see. The rest of the group just standing there awkwardly talking amongst themselves as it continues.

"How's the chef been? You ran off to Jersey for the summer and have been MIA since you came back" Mindy points out and just like that all eyes are back on Y/N. "She didn't run off" Y/BF/N interjects after finally pulling away, jersey was still a sore topic for the two but at least Y/N could count on Y/BF/N not to force conversations about it.

As Y/BF/N headed off to the locker rooms to shower and get changed, with Tara following close behind Y/N seen this an opportunity to answer Mindy's first question. "Anyway, the chef is great, I'm in my final year so it's more stressful now than it has ever been but the world deserves to taste me so I'm dedicated to perfecting that." "Taste...you?" Mindy snickers a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, taste me and I know your gutter mind ass is taking it there so I won't divulge but I will extend you an offer to stop by the kitchen and learn somethings" Y/N states matter of factly looking straight into Mindy's eyes and suddenly she's the one acting all coy and bashful. "Damn, Y/N. You go MIA and come back trying to be Miss.TakeMyBitch" Anika says feigning betrayal. Laughter erupts between all of them and suddenly Y/BF/N and Tara are making their way back to the group. Looking a little "freshly fucked" might Mindy add but she saves them the embarrassment for now.

As everyone is walking through the parking lot and getting into their respective vehicles. Y/N can't help but let her mind wonder and eyes wander over to the brown eyed goddess she had met earlier. "You're staring again" Sam says "Can't Help it" Y/N replies. This makes Sam stop dead in her tracks as Y/N kept walking trying to keep her facade of being smooth as fuck under control. "Come on Sam, We are riding in Y/N's Car" She hears as is grabbing her arm and leading the way.

"Damn Y/N/N, when can I get a ride in that" Chad Says while looking at her car. She had recently purchased an Inifinti Q50S, it was painted titanium grey with an all black interior to match her rims. "Must be nice to have mommy and daddy get you everything" Sam sneered to no one in particular but Y/N heard it. " I don't have a mommy and daddy to do anything for me. This is NIL money, baby" Y/N retorted. "NIL?" Sam questions.

"Name, Image, Likeness." You, Y/B/N and Chad all say in unison. "Y/N is the best sports media journalist Blackmore has ever seen. She built media platform and gave the athletes here a voice" Chad Explains. Truth be told Y/N was glad nobody double back about the "no mommy daddy" comment because she didn't have the mental or emotional capacity for that tonight. "Alright, can we go now? I just played my ass off, I'm hungry and a little horny" Y/BF/N groans closing the car door as her and Tara climb in the backseat. "Guess that means you're riding shotgun Sammy" You tease. " Call me that again and I-" "Yeah, Yeah, save the threat. We both know Tara won't let you" Effectively cutting Sam off and starting her car.

Sam refused to admit but Y/N was actually pretty decent and before she knew it her mind was clouded with thoughts of Y/N. The way she would easily slip in and out of traffic, never breaking too hard or go too fast for Sam or the other two sucking face in the back to feel unsafe. Sam found herself now being the one to stare at the girl and my god was she glad Y/N was focused on the road. Under the glow of the city lights and the ones slightly illuminating the inside of the car Sam got lost in her side profile, with Y/N hair now pulled back she had a chance to examine the other features she may have missed earlier like the one dimple Y/n on her right cheek, the small scar above her ear that traveled down to the base of her hairline. The way Y/N's nose was the perfect slope from this angle.

"You're Staring" Y/N says glancing over at Sam when she stops at a red light. All Sam can do is open and close her mouth like a fish having just been caught doing the same thing she threatened Y/N for doing previously. The soft hum of the engine and music fill the rest of the car ride as the girls make their way to the " Carpenter Habitat" as Y/BF/N calls it.

As the car pulls up in front of the apartment building, Tara begins begging Sam to let Y/BF/N sleepover and much to her surprise she gives in not before giving a stern "door open or living room" option with no room for rebuttal. Sam then looks to Y/N as if she was going to say the same to her but Y/N is quick to correct. "I won't be staying, Gonna head back to the kitchen and get prepped for the dinner service happening tomorrow. You kids have fun" Y/N states looking at all three of them while leaning on her car and lighting a joint. "Wanna finish this off before you go up?" Y/N says to Y/BF/N who looks over at Tara for the go-ahead. "Fine, but just one and you better shower again" Tara directs at Y/BF/N. After kissing Tara, Y/BF/N walks over to your car and takes the lit joint from you. Tara and Sam begin to walk inside and up to their shared apartment where they both watch Y/N & Y/BF/N smoke and interact like predators hunting prey.

"You sure you don't wanna stay?" Tara yells down to Y/N after the smoke session has ended and Y/BF/N has made it safely inside and upstairs to her girlfriend. "Yeah, I'm sure. You and Y/BF/N deserve some time together after that game she played" Y/N says with a knowing smile. Y/BF/N needed her "Tara Time" after long days or hard games and who is Y/N to stop that.

Before getting in her car, Y/N spares one last glance to the balcony Tara was just on only to see the older carpenter staring back at her. With a small smile and a wave Y/N bids farewell to Sam "It was nice meeting you tonight..Sammy" "Likewise Y/N" Sam replies softly watching as Y/N slips into her car and disappears in the city traffic.

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AN: this is my first time writing something like this so pls bear w meeeeeeeeeee. if you have any suggestions on how the story line should progress, critiques, etc feel free to lmk!

any ideas on what to name the fic? submit themmmmm

[justmeinadaze]

Nothings Gonna Change My World Part 2 (Steddie X You)(Zombie Apocalypse Universe)

A/N: The way I am having fun with this <3

I can absolutely go back to some of these universes and expand in separate series. Especially this one.

Please Enjoy!

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, In universe Zombie Apocalypse survivors Steddie X Y/N, SMUT, dp, dirty talk, and things in-between, FLUFF, in the universe the relationship is already established and they love each other <3

ANGST! Obviously Zombies, Steve is the leader of a community and Eddie is an ex military sniper; mentions of military PTSD (brief) , mentions of Steve being abandoned by parents, mentions of readers sister Kallie being turned and Y/N guilt of that, Reader is kidnapped and the boys save her, mentions of blood, cliffhanger in universe, Eddie talks about his mother dying of cancer (brief), Steve talks about his asshole dad (brief), they ask again how her sister passed but she refuses to answer.

This chapter kinda delves into abandonment issues and fears of losing new people in your life so if that's a trigger fair warning! I have abandonment issues so I get it <3

Word Count: 6765

Chapter 1/Donate to Me <3

“Ok and how did you feel moving around?”

“Like a passenger I guess. It was very much like a movie or VR.”, you sigh as you lean back in your seat. 

You had been answering his questions for over two hours and quite frankly you were exhausted. After the experiment and now dealing with this asshole, you barely even had time to process what you saw. 

“Was anything similar to our universe? Or even your life in general?”

“My sister was still dead. That’s fun.”, you sass as his eyes scan you over. “Um, they seem forever regressed in a time period that has long since past even though my grandma always said the 90s were a blast.”

“Was anyone there you recognized? Family, past friends, relationships?”

Your gaze shifts as you avoid his eyes and prepare to do the thing you do best; lie.

“Um, my ex was there. In that universe, he cheated on me. In ours, he just left me.”

“I see… ok, and you said you just went to bar, listened to a band, went to a party, and then woke up?”

“Yup.”, you reply with an obnoxious pop on that last letter.

“Did anything stand out as odd or feel off?”

You got lost in the void as you ran through the universe you just experienced and couldn’t help but smile at the warm fuzzy feeling of safety that flowed through you when you were around Eddie and Steve. For the first time in years, nothing stood out or felt off.

“Y/N?”

‘Oh, um, no nothing.”

“Ok…ok. Go ahead and head back to the common area. We just served meals so eat, rest up, and we’ll talk again after the next session.”

***

The following day, you felt their eyes on you. Steve was always in a corner doing push-ups or working out in the gym that was provided while Eddie was either smoking or reading on the balcony outside of the sitting area. 

You planned to avoid them for the rest of the time but you were antsy as jitters ran through your hands desperate for a beer to calm your nerves. Stepping outside, you took a seat on one of the lawn chairs without looking his way. 

Before even saying a word, he extended his arm out with his pack in hand.

“Don’t get used to this. These things are fucking expensive in here but…” When all you do is stare, he shakes it finally willing you to take one of the sticks between your fingers and lighting the end. “It’s kind of amusing to me that there’s a universe with an Eddie Munson that doesn’t smoke. He had a point though. Because of my mom I shouldn’t be doing it myself yet here I am.”

Flashing a smirk your way, he visually takes this version of you in as you inhale the cigarette and blow out a big puff of smoke. Compared to the you in the alternate universe, you seemed a bit more rough around the edges. While you never answered Steve’s question about your class status, you did seem like you fit in both. 

You could pass for upper class like the other boy with how clean cut you were with that air of arrogance that screamed everyone was beneath you. But unlike them, you seemed exhausted like someone who had just completed their last leg of ten-mile race. You appeared sassy and confident but to him you also seemed…sad. 

“You said your name was Y/N? In the thing I mean.”, he clarified when your looked at him with confusion. “I���m Eddie. Well Edward but my friends call me Eddie.”

“I don’t care. You and I aren’t friends.”

“Excuse the fuck out of me, princess.”

Your eyes shift his way again at the term remembering him calling you that in the alternate universe and how comfortable he made you feel. 

“I’m sorry. I, uh, yeah my name is Y/N. Doctor dipshit said I had to be sober for this experiment so it’s been a week since I’ve had anything and it’s making me insane.”

“I know how that goes. After our experience I would love a beer.”, he chuckles making you grin as well. “So, uh, if I may how did it feel?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The doctor guy asked me what it felt like in the universe and I told him it was kind of surreal like I was seeing through someone else’s eyes but what was even more crazy was I could smell the smoke in the air at the party. I could practically feel the plastic from the controller when I was playing that game. I, um, I could feel your lips. I can still smell your perfume and cold air that was attached to you when Steve brought you inside.”

Jesus, he could string words together like a poet which you weren’t expecting at all. As he spoke, your brain replayed those four hours as your eyes took in Eddie who had turned in his chair to give you more of his attention. 

“Did you experience the same?”

“I did.”, Steve answers as he saunters around the corner and sits at the end of your lawn chair to light his own cigarette eliciting an eye roll from the other boy. 

“I wasn’t asking you, Harrington, but good to know.”

As the man inhales and exhales, he stares off into the distance towards the skyline. 

“I think that was genuinely the first time I felt happy…being on stage and playing that guitar… Then I saw you come in and I felt like I knew you.”

“Maybe in that universe we had passed by each other a few times before that night.”

Steve’s lips pout out as he shakes his head. 

“Naw, it didn’t feel that way. Did it feel like that for you?”

“No.”

“Just no?”

“Jesus Christ! What do you both want from me?!”

“A straight fucking answer maybe.”, Eddie responds as you rise from your chair and toss the cigarette over the edge of the building. 

“I don’t owe you anything especially an answer.”

As you start to head back inside the long-haired boy’s voice gives you pause. 

“I still don’t think less of you for anything you’ve done. That’s one thing that version of me and I have in common.”

“I don’t either but I do want to know more.”

***

That morning you dragged your sleepy form to the cafeteria to grab some coffee and took a seat at a random table…or so you thought. 

“Kinda starting to feel like you’re stalking me, sweetheart.”

“Jesus Christ.”, you sigh ignoring his breathy laugh as he continues to pick at the cereal in his bowl. “Why are you two even eating together? I thought you hated each other.”

“I mean, we’re going to be stuck together for a month. Might as well make the best of it.”, Steve shrugs as he sips from his own cup. 

You take in his comment as your gaze shifts to the void in front of you. You had numerous dreams about them and a couple about Kallie that were making you feel a bit lonely. You could have some casual conversation. What could it hurt?

“I felt safe with you both. It was an intense emotion but I knew I could trust you. Which is weird because I don’t trust anyone except my sister.”

“Kallie.” You nod at Eddie’s answer surprised he even remembered. “Do you have that tattoo?”

“Yeah and in the same place.”

“It’s interesting what stays the same. My dad is still an asshole, Eddie was still living with his uncle, and you still lost your sister.”, Steve theorized as he casually continues to drink. “I’m sorry, honey. Maybe this universe today will be different.”

“Honestly…I don’t know what I’d do if I saw her face again.”

“Ok, guys.”, the doctor shouts as he claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “We’re very excited about the second test to see what happens. It seems we had some positive experiences when it came to the first universe. We’re hoping for the same in this regard. Please, if you don’t mind, gather your dishes and place them on the counter so we can start heading to the vessels.”

“Pfft, if you don’t mind. Like we have a choice.”, Eddie snickers as he takes note that his comment made you smirk as well. 

As you enter the experiment room, the three of you separate to go to your different pods where nurses do the same as they had before; making sure you were comfortable and getting your vitals.

“Alright, Y/N, ready for the pinch… Oh I know.”, she coos as you wince. “Dropping down in 3, 2, 1…”

######################

Everything was dark around you when you tried to open your eyes but couldn’t. The feeling of fear heavy in your heart as you listened to people whisper around you. 

“Do you really think she’ll help save us?”

“Yeah, I mean she’s a part of his group so once he comes for her we can use her to have Harrington provide us with a cure.”

“If he has the cure than why hasn’t he done it already?”

“I don’t fucking know! Maybe he’s selfish like his father.”

The sound of your whine gives them pause as you try to break the bonds tied around your wrists keeping you fastened to the chair underneath you. They were using you to get to one of the men you loved. 

If they’d remove the gag from your mouth you could tell them the truth; that he didn’t have a cure. If he had, he absolutely would have handed it over by now. You knew because you thought the same thing.

When you met him, you weren’t aware of what building you were in until you found him rummaging through his father’s desk. When you pulled your gun on him, he held up his palms in surrender insisting he wasn’t here to cause trouble. It took all your energy not to kill him right then and there but a red dot zeroed in on your chest forced you to pause.

The Harrington Virus was the reason your sister was taken from you, dying in your arms before she began to turn into a mindless flesh-eating corpse that you had to put down. 

He told you then about how his father’s company had created a viral weapon to sell to the military but it backfired and ended the world. His parents went into hiding and he spent the last two years looking for a cure feeling strongly it had to be somewhere within his father’s things. 

Over the last six months, you got to know him and his best friend he had been trying to survive with, falling in love with them and trying to help them save the world so to speak. 

While out on a routine supply run, someone took you and here you were.

“Did you hear that?”, one of the men asked cocking his gun as you hear footsteps echo away from you. 

Loud squelching noises make you jump as you prepare for the worst. Your body trembles in terror before the blindfold is removed from your eyes and you blink to adjust to the light around you.

“Everything’s ok, honey.”, Steve comforts as he takes the gag out of your mouth and begins untying you from the chair. Taking in your surroundings, both men who had kidnapped you were now dead with the man’s knife bloodied on the ground beside you. They had brought you to a warehouse of some kind but where you weren’t sure.

“Steve, you shouldn’t be here. They wanted you to come for me! We had a deal!”

“Yeah we did but I ignored it. We can fight about it later.”, he sasses as he grabs your hand and prepares to run before meeting another gun barrel in his face. “Tommy…good to see you again.”

The man growls as he hits Steve with the butt of his weapon and watches as he falls to the side. 

“Good to see you to, Harrington. How’s your dad?”

“I wouldn’t know. He disappeared and didn’t feel the need to take me with him.”, the boy winces as he tries to stand but is pushed back down. 

You step forward to help but Tommy turns the gun on you. 

“Don’t move, Y/N. How could you do this? How could you side with him after what happened to Kallie?!”

“Don’t you dare talk about my sister!”

“She would be so ashamed of you! You said you were going to kill him and yet somehow you managed to fuck him. The first time we saw you two together while scouting we thought maybe you were just trying to get on his good side. Come to find out, no, you actually fucking love him!”

You see the glint of light near the ceiling and your sigh in frustration at both men’s stubbornness. As you hold your palm in the air, Tommy scans you over trying to get a read on what you’re doing. 

“It’s not his fault, Tommy. I promise. These past 6 months we’ve been trying to track down Bill and any notes he had on a cure. We’ve come up with nothing.”

“That’s impossible! He can’t just fucking evaporate into thin fucking air, Y/N!”

“I know! But he will if you kill his son. If you kill him you’ll never have a chance!”

You see doubt flicker across his face for a split second before it hardens once more and raises his weapon in your direction. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks as you close your eyes and close your fist above you. The second your fingertips make contact with the bottom of your hand, you hear a soft whooshing sound followed by a bullet hitting flesh and when you open your eyes again Tommy is dead on the ground in front of you. “You two are idiots.”, you scold as you lean forward to help Steve to his feet right as Eddie slides into view slinging his sniper rifle over his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”, the long-haired boy asks with concern as his fingers caress the scrapes on your skin. 

“Yeah, come on. We have to go.”

The three of you run and skirt around the undead unseen back to the compound you called home.

***

“Ooooooow!”, Steve whines overdramatically as a girl pushes a bandage over the cut on his forehead. 

“Oh, don’t be such a baby.”, she teases as she lightly taps his forehead and turns to work on you. 

“I’m fine, Robin. Don’t waist the supplies.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine, Y/N. I am designated nurse lady so let me at least look you over, please and thank you.”, she grins making you smile as well as you rolled your eyes. 

The year you and Kallie were with Tommy and his group, you rarely smiled. Everything you two did there was to find the Harringtons and find a cure especially after Tommy’s girlfriend got infected. There was very little time for play or fun and your sister hated it. She always talked about leaving the group and heading off towards the beach with your back to the water. 

You insisted on staying because you felt like you were close to the cure. Maybe if you had left Kallie would still be here…

When you joined Steve and Eddie at their base with the high school, everyone seemed so much more at ease. They worked together to get things done and made time to have fun which you didn’t realize you missed till your first night here. 

“Ok, do you think any more of them will come back?”, Wayne asked at the desk just outside of the nurse’s office. 

“I don’t know. Y/N always said Tommy was in charge so I guess it depends on who takes over and if they even want to bother.”, his nephew answers as they continue to look down at a map on the table. 

“Well, we’ll continue to keep an eye out and I suggest Steve and Y/N don’t leave this place alone for any reason until we can confirm.”

“Can I shoot them in the legs if they do?”, Eddie jests as his best friend pushes him to the side lightly.

You feel all eyes in the room watch you as you silently leave the area and head to your shared room with the guys. The best part about being in a school was each classroom was utilized as a different room. This particular hallway was for bedrooms but soon you would have to open another with the more people you let in. 

The generators kept the electricity running so you were able to have mini fridges and food in each area along with music and anything else you may need. 

“Ok, we can fight about it now if you want.”, Steve announces as they both come in and shut the door. 

Shaking off your jacket and tossing it aside you continue to ignore them as they do the same. Fashion was scarce in the apocalypse but goddamn did they look good. Steve always wore that brown leather military jacket he stole from a gun store nearby but depending on who he was meeting that day was what he wore underneath. For your rescue, jeans and a crisp black t-shirt with black running shoes were in order but if he was meeting a new member of the group or a group outside to do exchanges with he donned slacks and a button up shirt to look “presentable.” 

Eddie never cared as long as he was comfortable. When you guys went out scavenging, if he found a band shirt he enjoyed he brought it back home with him wearing one of those with a pair of jeans or sweats and always having his DIO vest over that which he had modified himself to hold his sniper bullets should he need them. 

Before you met them you knew about Eddie Munson but not enough to form an opinion. With Tommy, you had done research on Steve and he was flagged as an accomplice but deemed invaluable because there wasn’t much information on them together. When you and Kallie did stake outs, you saw them spend time together and watched him practice firing his weapon, surprised about how well he shot. 

After coming here, you learned that his uncle had been in the military before he came to live with him and took him out to a range to show him how to shoot. Eddie himself signed up for service and did a tour labeled as the best sniper marksman in his unit. He had planned on doing another tour but while on leave the world ended. 

Your eyes continue flick between them as Eddie leaned against the arm of the couch with his arms folded across his chest while Steve stood in front of you waiting for you to speak. Unable to find the words in that moment, you stepped forward and smacked him hard across the face.

“We had a deal. If anything ever happened to me; if I got kidnapped or was in a situation that was dangerous you would leave me behind because people on this earth and finding a cure was more important!”

“I made that deal for you but I’ve never liked it especially now.”

“Oh my God, Steve, you are so fucking selfish! We’ve come so close numerous times to finding an end to this! I’m just one person in a sea of others who need your help!”

“That’s how you see it. I don’t.”

“I don’t care! The world needs you!”

“The world may need me but I need you!”, he snaps, placing his hands on his hips as he exhales. “WE need you.”

“That’s…that’s not fair.”

“No, sweetheart. What’s not fair is making us choose. To us…you’re our world. We love you.”, Eddie adds softly as your eyes meet his. “Now, how about we stop pretending you’re sacrificing yourself for the world and be honest. You don’t want us coming to save you because you don’t want to be responsible for another death.”

“Even though we tell you time and time again that what happened with Kallie wasn’t your fault.”

Your jaw tightens as you glare at the wall. 

“I got stuck in that building. I should have been the one…”

“No, baby, no. Your sister made her choice because she loved you. What happened wasn’t because of you or her. It happened because my father was greedy and helped create a weapon without knowing anything about it.”

Tears started to fall but as they stepped forward, you hastily ran out of the room.

***

“Hey, Y/N. Can you go the library for me and grab me a book about infections? I’m trying to read up on alternative remedies for green things.”

“Gross and you can’t get this, Rob, because…?”

“Because I asked you to.”

Laughing and patting her shoulder, you got to your feet as you headed away from the group in the cafeteria to make your way for the library to get what she needed. Part of the reason you put up with Robin’s sass is because she reminded of Kallie; 90% attitude and sarcasm with a kind, genuine heart. 

As you opened the door music caught your attention as you stepped inside. 

“Miss Y/L/N.”, Eddie smiled as he gestured towards the table that had a candle lit in the middle surround by cafeteria trays of food in front of three seats. 

“I’m going to kill Robin.”

“Ah no you’re not.”, Steve teases as he takes your hand and guides you to your seat. “On our menu today, we have school lunch hamburgers with a side of fries and a can of soda Eddie brought back with him from his last supply run.”

“Aaaaaand…”, the long-haired boy sings as he reaches into his vest and pulls out the desert to display to you. “A chocolate cupcake.”

“Oh my god. What did I do to deserve this Michelin star meal?”, you joke with a smile.

“You’re you.”, Eddie grins as he reaches over to place his palm over yours. “And you went through a lot today. Not just with getting kidnapped but these were people you were with for over a year. They were family…”

“Kallie was family. You two…are my family.”, you sigh as you swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“Hey, no reason to apologize. You’re a stubborn hardass. We get that.”, Steve interrupts sarcastically, chuckling when you punch his arm. “If anyone gets that, honey, it’s us. I may help watch over those people out there but you both mean everything to me. I don’t know where I would be if…”

Your heart broke as you watched him shift into a memory he only spoke about a handful of times. When the virus broke out, he was at home but did what they rehearsed as a family and ran to his BMW to speed to the airport. His parent’s security stopped him as the helicopter flew over his head and neither of them even gave a cursory glance at their son as it flew away. 

The area became over run and all Steve could do was sprint as he tried to remain in one piece. He was cornered at the high school and right as he thought he was about to die; gun fire went off before a ringed hand reached from behind a gate and yanked him inside. 

Eddie had been with his uncle which he was thankful for as both men ran to the closest safe place they could find. Some of the nearby kids were hold up there and he did what he could to save them. Once it was cleared of the infected, he and Steve worked together to build their little community. 

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Flashing you a big smile, he reaches for your hand and kisses the back as you three eat your meal. When you’re finished, Eddie beams your way mischievously and presses something behind him before a new song lightly flows through the room. 

“Wise men say

Only fools, only fools rush in

Oh, but I, but I, I can't help falling in love with you.”

“You’re such a dork.”, you giggle as you take the hand he extends to you and guides you to your feet where you both lightly begin to sway. 

“Shall I stay?

Would it be, would it be a sin?

If I can't help falling in love with you.”

“I was terrified when you didn’t come back.”, Eddie murmurs above you as you lay your head against his chest. “I tried picturing you as one of those things and I just… it killed me. When Steve got Tommy’s letter, I was relieved you weren’t dead but I was so angry…I wanted to burn that whole place to ground.”

As your gaze shifts to look at his face, you realize his eyes are glazed over as he simmers in his fury. Even though the world had ended, Eddie still carried PTSD from the time before. While he was a decorated soldier, during his tour he saw a lot of things he carried with him that had you holding him at night as he cried from a nightmare. 

 Zombies were one thing but men coming after him with weapons and intent was another. 

“I love you, baby. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Blinking back into the moment, he softly smiles before kissing your forehead and spinning you into Steve’s awaiting arms. 

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things, you know, are meant to be.”

“I don’t know what we’d do without you, honey. Jesus, wait until we tell our children we met their mom when she pointed a gun in my face.”, he chuckles as he playfully dips you. 

As your face falls, he wraps his arms tightly around you.

“Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can"t help falling in love with you.”

“We’re going to figure this out, Y/N. Whether it be a cure or a safe place in this chaos, we’ll get everything in order and start a family.”

Tilting your head back, his lips land softly on yours as his kisses slowly get more passionate. 

“Wait…what if someone…comes in here.”, you pant making him smile as his thumbs caress your cheek.

“I’ve booked this suite all night, baby. It’s just you, me, and Eddie till morning.”

After quick peck again, you fall to your knees and fumble with his belt as he removes his shirt above you. As soon as his cock springs free, your lips wrap around it as he places his hand on your head to guide you. 

“God, Y/N. That feels so fucking good.”

Reaching behind you, the long-haired boy laughs knowing what you’re looking for as he comes closer and pushes down his sweats. Both men groan and exhale heavily as your mouth switches between them while pumping your hand to spread your saliva along their shaft. 

“Come here, sweetheart.”, Eddie breathily instructions as he jumps up on to one of the tables and helps you out of your jeans and panties before guiding you till you were straddling his waist. 

After lifting off his own shirt, you couldn’t help but kiss along the scars on his chest like you always did as he petted your head. He had so many old wounds from battles he didn’t talk about; war, the apocalypse, his father when he was growing up. 

Eddie gave you the baseline of information. When his mother went missing he cried every day but his father didn’t care, hurting him over and over till he was arrested. One day overseas a bomb went off knocking him back and causing the little cuts on his stomach. Before he ran with Wayne, the trailer park was over run and he smashed out a car window to hot wire it so they could get away. 

Each scar had a different story but they made up the man he was and you loved every part of him. 

You felt safe with him; both of them.

“F-Fuck, princess.”, Eddie mewled as your gradually descended on to his length. 

Cupping your face in his hands, he tenderly trailed kisses from your forehead to your lips. 

Feeling Steve’s large palms on your ass, you lifted up to allow him more access as he carefully guided his own cock into your hole. 

You would never get used to the full feeling of them both inside you but just like out in the world, in the bedroom you felt safe. 

Between their bodies, nothing else mattered.

You could see the stars, heaven, and even the future. A future with no virus, smiling kids, and happy home filled with hope. No more nightmares or screams. Just peace. 

“Hey, hey. A-are you ok? Are we hurting you?”, Steve asked as Eddie whipped the tears that had begun to fall. 

“No…I just love you both… so much.”

Grinning they kiss a random part of your body as they begin thrusting into you again at a steady pace. 

“We love you to, baby. Mmph— everything’s ok.”

“We love you.”, Eddie repeated as his jaw fell open in a silent moan. “You feel so good.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to him as they found a faster rhythm allowing their cocks to hit every sensitive spot inside of you roughly. 

“Cum, baby. You can do it, honey. That’s it.”, Steve coaxed as your body shook and the coil snapped. “Atta girl. That’s our beautiful girl. Shit.”, he grunted as his hips sloppily slammed his release into your behind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Up, Y/N.”, Eddie lightly commanded but the other boy took the initiative, lifting you off his friend’s dick and allowing you to tilt over him as you bobbed your head, catching his release on your tongue as it spurts down your throat. “Mmph—good girl. Good girl.”

You giggle as Steve pulls you down the floor and you utilize his arm as a pillow while the long-haired boy hops down to snuggle you to his chest. 

“We got you one more thing.”

“Why?”, you blush as you listen to his strained groan while reaching for his bag above his head. 

“Because we love you. Unless you don’t want it. I can take it back to the store and—” His grin grows as you lightly smack his arm and Eddie chuckles behind you. 

As soon as everyone calms down, he produces a small diamond ring that has you smirking his way. 

“What’s that?”

“A ring.”

“For what?”

“For you.”, the other boy answers. “If you want it, that is.”

You can’t help but blink as you sit up and they follow. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do.”, Steve replies way too calmly. He was definitely meant to be a leader. “You’re just scared.”

“I am not. What on earth do I have to be afraid of?”

“Besides the ever-present doom of the end of the world?”, Eddie jokes as he leans back on his palms. “Maybe losing us…like you did Kallie… Trust me, babe. I was a solider. I understand that fear better than most.”

“So do I. My parents abandoned me in the middle of all this.”, Steve gestures around him. “I watched them fly away while people around me were dying but, honey, you can’t live your life in fear…especially this one. We could be gone at any second and if anything happened to me than I’d want my last memories to be a full life with you and my best friend.”

After thinking for a moment, you casually take the ring from his hand and pretend to inspect it.

“I think when you give a girl something like this you’re supposed to ask her a specific question.”

They both laugh as they grab each one of your hands. 

“Honey, I’ve been love you since I met you. You’re smart, sweet, and so fucking beautiful. The first time I held you I knew I’d never let you go. Will you marry me?”

Cupping your cheek, Eddie turned you to face him. 

“I don’t trust many people but when I saw you running around that building trying to sneak up on Steve I knew you were special.”, he chuckles as you laugh at the memory. “I love your sarcasm and your strength and you motivate me to open my heart not just to you but people around me. You make me a better man, sweetheart. Will you marry me?”

Before you can answer, Dustin busts through the library doors as they pull a blanket over your lower half to cover you. 

“Henderson! Rude, man—”

“Steve, something… you need to come…now…”, the boy panted. 

Noting his genuine concern, both men pulled up their pants and began to follow. 

“Stay here.”

“That’s cute you think I’d listen to that.”, you answer his command sarcastically as you tug up your own jeans and push past them to see what’s going on. 

As you enter a hallway by the doors, you see Robin running around a woman on the floor trying to assess her wounds as she tries to catch her breath. 

“H-H-Harrington. I need…Harrington…”

When Steve steps through the crowd, her eyes widen as she forces herself off the floor and limps to him, collapsing in his arms as he catches her. 

“Y-Your father…I escaped…I found…help…”

“I don’t understand.”

Swallowing in frustration, she extends her palm and hands him a crumbled-up piece of paper. 

“C-C-Cure.”

His amber eyes widen as he twists his head to meet your own irises as your mouth falls open in shock behind the long-haired man who insisted on keeping you behind him to keep you safe.

The woman notices as her bottom lip trembles and extends her arm to reach for him. 

“Eddie?”, she whispers.

The man scans her over again before kneeling beside his friend to take her hand in his. 

“Mom?”, his voice cracks at the realization. “What…where have you—”

#########################

Muffled screaming is the first thing you hear as your eyes snap open and the pod door slowly slides out. 

“Everything’s alright, Miss Y/N, I’m going to—no! Please don’t do this again!”

You ignore the nurse as you swing your legs over and promptly go on the hunt for Eddie. That feeling you had in the universe was still heavy in your heart; that worry for him as soon as he knelt down. 

The people around you were crying and still trying to catch their bearings as nurses tried to calm them. 

“Zombies were everywhere! They had us cornered!”

“My wife was trying to kill me!”

“I swear I could feel their teeth!”

A hand suddenly intertwined with yours, tugging you forward out of the room and down the hallway. Steve’s head was on a swivel as he searched for the other boy but you couldn’t take your eyes off him as that air of confidence from the other universe still seemed to cling to him as that rush of safety washed over you. 

“Ed?”

At his soft worried tone, your gaze shifted as you both entered the dorms and saw the man before you pacing as his chest heaved in what looked like anger. 

“Everything’s ok, Munson.”

“Everything is NOT ok.”, he growled. “Did you see her, Steven? She was in so much pain and needed help… and why was she talking about your dad?!”

“I-I don’t know. That’s not me and even if it was that Steve felt just as confused—”

“BULLSHIT!”, Eddie screamed as he lurched toward him and shoved him against the wall. “My uncle and dad worked for your father’s company in this universe! If Bill did something to her in that other one…”

“Eddie, I swear on my life, I have no idea what my father does with his business but I’m sure he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened to your mother.”

“What did happen?”, you ask making the long-haired boy jump, forgetting you were even there.

“She died…cancer…what was odd though was she had no family history of it.”, he rumbled as his angry eyes focused on Steve’s. 

“So…this was the first time you saw here in a while…?”

The man’s voice shook as he answered your question. 

“Since I was six…”

“Eddie…I don’t know much about either of you in this world but so far in both Steve’s father has been an asshole who abandoned his son. 2 for 2 says a lot…which makes me think that in this universe here, it’s most likely the same.” Steve’s eyes flutter slightly at your assessment as the other man’s grip around him loosens. “Whatever Bill Harrington is involved in…I don’t think he’d have his son help or know about it and not because he doesn’t want him to get in trouble.”

“My dad has told me numerous times I’d never live up to our name.”, the man whispers. “I’m so sorry, Ed. I swear if I knew anything I’d tell you. I’d have told you a long time ago.”

Eddie snickers as he steps back. 

“When? When you were ignoring me or when your friends were calling me a freak? You always treated me like I was beneath you especially at school because only you rich pricks should have been there according to you. Us kids of employees should have been relegated to some cheap public school, remember?” Steve’s jaw tightens as his eyes flick to you before finding the boy’s again. “Which is why I don’t FUCKING UNDERSTAND why 2 for 2 you and I are friends and fucking THIS girl.”, he shouts as he gestures towards you. 

“Don’t look at me. I don’t get it either.”, you growl as you fold your arms defiantly.

“You HAVE to know us or even one of us.”, Steve insists. “You come from money right? Have I seen you or something at a party or a charity thing? Anything?”

“First off, fuck you. Second, I don’t come from money. My father’s side does.”

“Our private school has your last name.”

“No, it has my great grandfather’s last name. That doesn’t mean I know you.”

“Jesus, you’re really fucking stubborn.”

“I don’t know why you’re quizzing me! I’m just as confused as you! Look, I just came in here to make sure Eddie was ok and now I regret it. This is why I didn’t want to make friends or whatever.”

“Because they die or leave?”

Your eyes narrow towards the long-haired boy as you glare his way. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. In both universes, you talked about your sister and how you were afraid of us leaving you. Whether that be through judgement or death. In the first one your boyfriend cheated and then in this one your ‘family’ kidnapped and scolded you for your choice. Is it the same in this universe? Are you afraid if you make friends with anyone you’ll end up alone again?”

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

“What happened to Kallie?”

“None of your fucking business!”

As you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your arm to pull you back and in return you smack him. He doesn’t say a word as his grip on your bicep slides to your wrist and his head hangs.

“I’m sorry. You’re right…it’s none of our business. Just…seeing my mom and then feeling everything that other Eddie felt.”

“I understand.”, you sigh as you lean your forehead on his. “It lingers…the feelings…”

“We never got an answer.”, Steve murmurs causing you both to look his way. “We asked you to marry us. That Steve seemed confident and smooth but he was really fucking nervous to ask you that.”

“So was Eddie. He…you made him feel like he wasn’t just a robot who could wield a gun. You gave him hope. Hope for a future that he struggled to believe in.” 

As the feelings and their words overwhelmed you, you tried to leave again but his hand kept you in place and Steve came up behind you till his chest was against your back. 

“Please, don’t go.”

Eddie’s shoulders shook as he began to cry and as your arms wrapped around him, he rested his face into the nook of your neck as he clung to you, holding you tightly to his chest.

###################

@baileebear @jasminelafleur @twirls827 @dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @starboygf @alba8688 @crybabyddl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @hardladyheart @yesimabratandwhataboutot @chelebelletx @season4steve @fic-lover-29

[slut4sugu]

— 𝐒𝐎𝐒. 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 !

─── . ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡ SOME WORDS FROM KAM: I just want to thank all of your for 100+ followers! It has been so much fun writing for you all and I greatly appreciate the support! So now I hope you all enjoy this milestone event!!

─── . ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡ SOME WARNINGS: some of these works will have mature content so minors Dni! I will label the ones that are sfw and nsfw, happy reading and thank you all so much again!

Here is SZA’s full SOS album in case you wanna listen to it however you want </3

NO.1 - SOS.

MDNI !

I CAN DO YOU BETTER [feat!] hobie brown

Lyrics : bestfriend!hobie x black fem reader, readers ex on the phone, fingering, hobie being evil </3, use of names like: doll, pretty thing, princess, cunnilingus, cursing, mentions of weed and alcohol use, bit of a slow burn

Summary: Your bestfriend hobie comforts you after getting broken up over the phone with your ex, and gives you the treatment you’ve always deserved.

NO. 2 - KILL BILL.

MDNI !

Come Back Darlin feat! [feat!] rue Bennett

Lyrics : ex!rue x fem!black reader, mentions smoking, makeout session, rue being slightly sappy, thigh riding, being almost caught by Gia, fluff at the end </3, cursing

Summary: you broke up with rue because her addiction was too concerning and you felt as though she would never change no matter what you said to her. After an argument you broke up, though as weeks then months passed rue started to realized your her drug. The strongest there fuckin is.

NO. 3 - SEEK & DESTROY.

BULLSEYE [feat!] assassin Toji x fem!black reader

Lyrics: Toji being hot as usual, reader having to treat his scars, suggestiveness, fluff, use of the name: doll, pretty, baby, princess, ma, toji being a sweetheart, use of guns, cursing.

Summary: you didn’t know what toji specifically did for work until you started to put pieces together, the excessive guns, weaponry, especially the scars. Then one night your boyfriend of 2 years sat you down an told you everything.

NO. 4 - LOW.

SHOW OFF [ feat!] 42!miles x fem!blackreader

Lyrics: miles being protective of you as per usual, jealousy themes, cursing, rio being suspicious, slight angst then fluff, reader being worried for miles, miles spoiling reader, slight suggestiveness

Summary: you found out that miles was the prowler, and assured him you would still want to be with him despite what he does as a ‘job’. But because you know he makes your relationship a secret, so that not even uncle Aron would know.

NO. 5 - SMOKING ON MY EX PACK.

MDNI !

F*CK OFF [ feat!] suna x fem!black reader

Lyrics: atsumu being a dick, angst to fluff, smoking, stoner suna, skipping school, alottt of cursing, fighting between atsumu n suna, suna being a sweetheart to reader, cheating themes, mentions of a abusive relationship between atsumu and reader

Summary: After a long awaited break up with a toxic atsumu, you struggle to love yourself again. So your old friend comes to ease your mental pain, and real ease some tension.

NO. 6 GOOD DAYS.

MDNI !

MY HEART [ feat!] ? x fem!black reader (it’s a surprise <33)

Lyrics: ? being an absolute sweetheart, use of vibrator, slight age gap, reader is in her late 20’s and ? is in her early 30’s, cunnilingus, edging, aftercare, use of names: Honey, princess, sweetheart, baby

Summary: ? met you one day at a concert and couldn’t take her eyes off your cute outfit for the whole show, after getting your insta, meet ups begin to happen in discreet locations and reserved buildings before turning into stays in her penthouse.

[wheatnoodle]

MMMMMMMMMPART FOUR BARK BARK BARK

other parts

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

—

eddie’s squished in the corner of his own couch, mike wheeler’s bony knee digging into his thigh. why couldn’t they pick someone else’s house? code red, group meeting, maybe the wheeler basement? not his tiny trailer?

one by one, they file in. nancy, mike, max, lucas, erica, robin, dustin-…dustin shuts the door behind him. he shuffles over to stand next to robin, scrubbing a hand over his face and staring at the floor.

“i bet you’re wondering why we um…we called this meeting,” dustin clears his throat, adjusts his hat so he has something to do with his hands. lucas looks around and he holds up a hand to stop dustin from continuing.

“everyone’s not here,” he says, leaning around to look at everyone. eddie sits up, takes his own glance at the group and does an internal head count.

“where’s steve?” he asks and sits up to look out his front window. maybe steve was just running late. he could’ve been far away or something, who knows. there’s a choked off sob that has his head flicking over to robin. she covers her mouth with her hand, turns to face away from everyone.

“that’s what we called you guys to talk about,” dustin says after a deep breath. he can’t look any of them in the eye.

“okay…what’s going on? You’re making it seem like he’s…like he’s dead, or something,” nancy scoffs softly. she crosses her arms over her chest, her face taking on a look of concern.

“holy shit, is he dead?” max asks. silence fills the room, all eyes on the pair standing front and center. why them? why’d they have to be the ones to deliver the news? robin wipes under her eyes, releasing a heavy sigh that turns into a groan of frustration. she turns back to face everyone.

“okay…um…a few days ago, at the bonfire, i tried to talk to steve because he…he’d been really quiet all night. like, nance and i were walking back up and he was still sitting there. so- so i went to talk to him. and he just seemed…really…out of it. jumpier than usual…s-sadder than usual?” she paused, needing to squeeze her eyes shut and clench her fists to keep from crying more than she had on the way over. “and he…he wasn’t at work for a few days. guess he called keith and told him he was sick and would be out for a bit.

“day he was supposed to come back, he doesn’t show. keith can’t get in contact with him. i can’t get in contact with him. dustin can’t either,” robin explains. she sounds exhausted.

“alright, now you’re freakin’ me out…did he fuckin’-…is he dead?” eddie cuts in, his forehead creasing in the center. he hears max’s sharp breath in and reaches behind mike to grip her shoulder.

“no, no he’s not- he didn’t kill-…he’s not dead,” is what robin settles on. her fingers are itching for a cigarette, she doesn’t even smoke. “dustin went to go check on him and he’s just…gone? like- like all of his things, his car, his pictures, him. he’s just gone.”

“what, he just packed up and left?” mike asks, his voice edging on anger. he furrows his thick brows, leaning forward on the couch. he looks ready to square up with someone.

“that’s…yeah. that’s what it looks like.” dustin sighs heavily.

“and nobody’s looking for him? after- after everything?” mike scoffs and shakes his head before pushing the long locks behind his ears. he stands up, moves to grab his coat.

“mike-“ nancy tries and rises as well. she reaches out to take his arm but he shakes her off.

“no, nance! look, he’s not my favorite person in the world, he’s your ex and he used to be a dick. but he’s family now, whether i like it or not, and i don’t fuck around when it comes to who i pick for family,” he starts, “also, it’s steve! y’know, hundred and one concussions? you want him just…out there? on his own? with his shit memory and his headaches, hell, he can barely hear! so you guys can sit here, be sad, whatever. i’m looking for steve.”

“‘scuse me,” eddie mumbles, barely even audible to himself before he’s putting his hands on his knees and standing up. he doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, instead just slips a cigarette from his pocket between his lips and pushes through the small crowd in his living room. he can hear dustin call his name but he keeps going until he can shut his bedroom door and twist the lock behind him.

steve was gone. he may never see him again. he may never see him again. he may never get to smoke with him again and listen to the wild stories from high school that he never seemed to share with anyone else. he won’t get to shuttle the kids to his house or meet them somewhere and listen to the way steve mothers over them, fixing collars and reminding them to walkie if they need anything.

eddie would never be able to look into his eyes again. those big, brown, beautiful eyes that glow like the moon when eddie gives him his full, undivided attention. those eyes that eddie’s realizing he wishes he could look into them forever. and if not forever, maybe just one more time.

he wouldn’t be able to tangle his hands in his hair and feel the way the strands slip like silk through his fingers. it always looked so soft. and now he’d never know. eddie wouldn’t be able to hug him and god, what he would give to smell him right now and what kind of a thought is that to have about your fellow man friend? slow your roll, edster.

not that it would even matter anymore that just thinking about him makes eddie’s heart ache. because steve is gone. steve is gone.

and suddenly, all at once, eddie can’t breathe and he’s drowning in his own saltwater tears. the unlit cigarette falls from his lips and he’s sliding down the door, all dramatic movie style, until he’s sitting with his knees to his chest. broken sobs are yanked from the deepest parts of his chest against his will, collapsing his ribs with the force. he crumbles forward into his knees, pressing his forehead into the skin that sticks out from his ripped jeans. one hand is trying to cover his mouth and muffle himself, the other finds it’s way into his hair.

steve is gone and eddie didn’t know where he went. steve is gone and he left eddie behind. steve is gone and he is going to find new friends. he is going to find someone who makes his heart race and he is going to take them out on cheesy dates and dance in the kitchen at three in the morning and kiss them like his life depends on it and eddie is going to throw up oh my good he’s gonna be sick stop it stop it stop it.

he loves him.

steve is gone and eddie loves him.

steve is gone and eddie was too late. too late too late and now everything makes too much sense. all those nights he stayed awake in bed, staring at his ceiling with thoughts of steve harrington running through his brain. every time he was in the room with the jock, eddie gravitated towards him. he’d stand behind him, prop his chin on a toned shoulder and wrap an arm around his waist. tell himself it’s just because he liked making steve jump when he doesn’t see him coming, but really he just…fits. so well against eddie’s chest. and the blush that rises in his cheeks.

steve is gone and eddie loves him.

there’s a tentative knock on the door that pulls him from his sorrow and has his head snapping up. he smacks his hands against his face to swipe away any tears, scrubbing at his eyes before he stands up.

“eddie…?” it’s robin. she sounds nervous, uncomfortable. shit. they’re probably all listening to him cry like a baby. “it’s just robin. i kicked everyone else out.” is she listening to his thoughts? “um…no, no you’re just…y’know, talking.”

oh.

“oh.” he takes steadying breath and cracks open the door, only a couple inches, enough to look at the disheveled girl on the other side.

“eddie…” robin says in a sad sigh, her shoulders slumping as she takes in the sight of him. she wants to reach out and take his face in her hands, wipe his tears and tell him how they still had each other, but she knew it wasn’t the same. and right now, she feels as though she is approaching a wild animal recently caged and cornered. reaching into his space is not what he needs.

“robin.” his voice wavers and eddie’s pulling his wobbly lower lip between his teeth to chew on.

“i’m right here.” she’s quick to reassure him. eddie turns his head behind the door as a fresh wave of tears floods his waterline and he chokes on a whimper. he sticks his hand out of the crack in the door and she tangled their fingers together, letting him cling to her as hard as he needed.

robin rests her forehead on her side of the door, lets her own tears slip as she listens to him feel his world come crashing down around him, the same she had. she wants to scream. wants to smash all of the harrington’s windows in and set the place on fire and run into the middle of the lake with rocks tied to her feet and scream.

instead, she squeezes eddie’s hand tighter and cries with him through his bedroom door.

—

september rolls around and the kids are back in school. a whole month without steve. that’s how long she makes it before max is cracking open her lined math notebook to a blank page and uncapping her pen with her teeth.

dear steve,

i don’t know if you remember even giving me this address. you were pretty drunk when you did. but, you left, and this is the place i hope you ended up. you seemed happy when you talked about it.

things are different now. we’re different. not a good different, but i have hope. dustin is pretty mad all the time. doesn’t talk except to bitch at people which was funny at first, but now it’s pretty annoying. lucas quit the basketball team. he said that his teammates kept bugging him about what happened to you since they know he was close to you. but hey, now he has time for me to teach him how to skate. (fyi: he’s shit)

part of me wants to be mad at you. like, how dare you leave me, you bastard! but i saw how you were before you left. you were so tired. i’m really proud of you for looking out for you. i would much rather know you’re alive on the other side of the country than dead here because things got too much.

robin misses you so much. she talks about you every day even though it always makes her cry. but she keeps doing it. i think she wants to make sure everyone remembers you. she writes poetry now? all starring you or this girl in marching band. but what i mean is she’s got an outlet at least. which is good. she’s good at it.

eddie…isn’t around too much anymore. he stays in his trailer most of the time which now reeks of weed and has music blasting 24/7. i will say though, he’s been playing a lot of smiths on his guitar. can you believe it?! eddie! the smiths! which brings me to reminding you that your “special friend” seems more than willing to wait.

i hope this reaches you. you don’t need to answer or anything. i just wanted you to know that i’m happy for you. and i’m proud of you. i like you more than the rest.

that random girl,

max

—

taggie waggies:

@wonderland-girl143-blog @callme-keys @kgne-k @hagbaby420 @24-7shipping @coolestjoy30 @v3lnys @sirbackpains @definitely-not-cereal-og @alienace @starlight-archer @eli-flower @luthienstormblessed @zerokrox-blog @awkotaco24 @sundead @vintgememry @adankrivervalleynearyou

[ghostprincessworld]

Headcanon that at some point, when they are like 27/28 Gauntwood goes on like a 1 month "vacation" without any of the staff. It will be nice to be truly alone together. They rent a cabin that is a bit isolated, not to far form markets and such.

However, they forgot to account for the fact that they don't know how to take care of themselves:

Day 1&2

Going alright, they brought a few meals with them. 

they are free to love each other openly in this private place, this place is beautiful and they love it!

except when they go to bed, they note that the bed had not been made that morning. This is never properly resolved. There are a few attempts to make it, but they resign themselves to a poorly made (mostly an unmade) bed

Day 3

Prepared meals are gone. they go to the market, They have a fun time.

Sidney has no doubts they can figure it out, Henry is like, "Have you ever cooked a chicken before?"Well, no, but I used to watch my mum do it when I was a kid," Henry has absolute faith in his husband because he's an idiot 

“So we just put it in the oven? The chicken and the veggies?" "Yeah that's how my mum did it!" (They are making roast potatoes, carrots, and chicken)

they didn't use any seasonings, butter, or oil, the chicken is overcooked, so dry and plain. The potatoes and carrots are too hard and burnt at the same time. 

"Sidney, I love you, but this is disgusting."

“No, you're right. If you stop loving me, I'll understand." 

they end up picking through it just eating the least inedible parts it's not a lot, and they eat a lot packaged snacks that night

Day 5 

Henry has a brilliant (terrible) idea, he's going to make them breakfast, eggs, and lamb sausage.

Sidney comes into the kitchen when there is smoke everywhere

they put out the smoke, and the (unseasoned) eggs are burnt to the pan.

"WHAT is going on!!!" "I was uhh... making breakfast..."Why did you cook it so long?" "Excuse me, I didn't want us to get salmonella!"

For dinner, they plan to make pasta. Together, this is going to be a team effort. Henry immediately puts the dry noodles in a pot and no water, Sidney stops him.

They call Maud, and she laughs at her useless brother and his husband but agrees to help

"Okay now you'll wanna add any veggies to the sauce" "veggies...?i didn't get any" "okay skip that, just add your seasonings" "seasonings?" "Okay... it gonna be a bit plain"

"Why are all noodles sticking together weird?" "Did you salt the water like I said?" "Oh..."

S: what if we heat the water up twice as hot , then we can cook the noodles half the time 

H: No, it will probably burn them

M: idiots you can't heat water past boiling

Pasta is plain, but edible

Other cooking mishaps:

Pasta take 2: no veggies again, goes way to hard on the seasonings, add like every single one, there is cinnamon in the pasta

Henry makes eggs(unseasoned) bacon and toast (only a little burnt)

"Henry, I love you so much, and this is so sweet, but I don't eat pork"

"Oh god! I knew that! The butcher was just looking at me, and I panicked. " Henry is about to cry

Sidney spends way too long slicing (mutilating) a loaf of bread with a meat knife

Cleaning

By day 3 all of their clothes are wrinkled because they don't know how to iron and they didn't pack them well

It fine they are mostly being seen by just each other, but it makes them feel icky

At the market a woman is looking at henry, and he get insecure and just tells her unprompted that his wife is too sick to iron

By 2 weeks in they have no clean clothes

S: What if we just sent it all to the dry cleaner

H: You wanna send our underwear to the dry cleaners? No we are supposed to be learning this, we are living a simple life

S: What if we were just naked from now on

Back on the phone with Maud, they learn how to wash clothes. They have pasta stained clothes they can't fix. Clothes are wearable again, still wrinkly :(

They wash no dishes for the first 4 days, it's a terrible mess. It takes 15 min to scrub the burnt pan because they didn't realise they can soak the bad dishes

The whole place is a bit dusty by the end

Fun stuff

There is a lake on the property and they go skinny dipping

They fish (and successfully cook it over a fire)

Stargaze: “hey did you that constellation [insert greek info dump]” nerd

Ellwood convinces Gaunt to dance with him

They play card games

They get to be domestic without any prying eyes

Overall, they had a great time! They picked up some novice-level skills along the way and, despite the chaos, they’d be willing to try this again in the future (and they do). When they get back they are this close to kissing Luis on the mouth.

[dreamingkatie]

away 3

This was written a year ago, but upon rereading it... I hated it. So maybe I've made it better, or maybe I've made it worse, but either way, I've written something for the first time in ages.

Part 2 is here

I peek through the diamond-paned window, breathing circles of fog onto the glass. Nina promised he’d be home today, and I hadn’t believed her, not entirely. Bittersweet relief washes over me as I see his headlights grow larger. 

I spent the day cooking with Nina, until she shooed me out of the kitchen so she could listen to the news in peace. Daniel brought me a great stack of books the week before last. I’ve read a little here and there, between watching the snow clouds roll across the grey sky. He’s given me permission to roam the grounds (keep the house in sight, darling), and I stayed close to its stone facade. The wind was cutting, though, and I don’t have a winter coat. 

I open the door to greet him and the wind whips at my hair. I put up a hand to shelter my eyes. The passenger door of his car opens. Oh no. The other man slams the door and I step back into the lantern-lit foyer, looking back for Nina.  

“Someone’s with Daniel,” I call to her. 

Nina comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Her eyebrows wrinkle. I feel a little better that he didn’t tell her either.

The men trudge into the house and I wring my fingers together. The new man is a towering figure, his shadow dwarfing mine. His shaggy blonde hair brushes his collar and his face is shadowed with a couple days of growth. My teeth chatter from the cold and my hand drifts to my hair, smoothing it down where it’s flown free from the thick black ribbon.

“Hello, Daniel,” I whisper, and try to smile. 

“Kate,” his voice is warm. He drops his pack on the floor and gestures for me to come to him. He smells of the outdoors. Fresh and cold. His fingers grip my shoulder.

“This is Michael,” he says, “Michael, this is my wife, Kate. And this is our housekeeper, Nina.”

Michael smiles and bows slightly, his blonde hair falling across his face. I note his freckles, his bright blue, laughing eyes. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Michael says. 

I bite my lip and smile back, nodding. Nina comes forward, a plump flurry of skirts, and shakes his hand. 

“It’s wonderful to have you, Michael,” she says. “Why don’t you all go into the library? The fire will need tending, Daniel.”

Daniels takes my icy hands between his and leads us through the fast darkening hallway. He adds two logs to the fire, which crackles and leaps, casting its dancing light onto the coffered ceiling. I stand back, waiting for his instructions. I pray for a gentle night. 

“I’ll show you the rest of the house tomorrow, Michael,” Daniel says, stepping away from the fireplace and lighting the oil lamps. “The conservatory is on the west side, the kitchen nearly in the center of the house. Your room has been prepared, though, and should be suitable for a few nights with us.”

Michael takes a seat on the couch with a sigh, studying the room, its aging grandeur. The flickering light cast dancing shadows on the leather-bound books.

“I’m glad to be here, and thankful for your hospitality,” he says. 

“You’re always welcome,” Daniel says, taking his seat closest to the fire. He pats his leg and I lower myself to the floor, sitting beside him with my legs curled beneath me, tucking my nightgown around my toes. I feel heat in my face and keep my eyes on the fire, watching the smoke rise. 

Daniel runs his fingers over my hair, my ear, my neck. “Missed you,” he says.

“I missed you,” I say, still looking at the fire. I feel Michael’s eyes on me and I’m ashamed of my place on the floor. 

Nina brings in a tray and pours bourbon for the men. Daniel takes a long sip and leans back. 

“We’ll be ready for dinner in 15 minutes, Sir,” Nina says. She takes her tray back toward the kitchen and I hear her humming as she goes. 

Daniel taps my shoulder and I look up. He holds out a pill. 

“Oh, I’m ok. No headaches–”

“Take it, Kate,” he says. “Michael requires you tonight, and I know you would rather not remember.” He hands me his glass and I take it with bourbon. My hands shake. 

“Daniel, if it’s an imposition–” Michael begins.

“Not at all,” Daniel says, “I’ll gather her in the morning.”

“Generous,” Michael says. He smiles. I look away. 

Michael asks about the fireplace, the home’s architecture, the extension that was added two years ago. His voice drones and I note Daniel answering, but my focus is fuzzy, their voices far away.

[abovethemists]

Never Let Me Go - Chapter 4

Summary: Bonded together by tragedy, Lacey and Gold shared an intense relationship that ended when she split town. Lacey has spent the past five years trying to move on, while Gold has been stuck in a town that never seems to change. When Lacey is forced to return to Storybrooke, she is faced with the demons of her past and the fear that she made the wrong choice all those years ago.

A/N: This fic is so old it's from when I still made headers for my stories. It's been years, and I doubt anyone wanted more of this, but here you go.

TW: Minor character death, hospitals, medical stuff in this chapter 

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3)

Read it on AO3

Monday Evening

Vascular Dementia. 

That was Moe French’s official diagnosis, brought on by a series of mini strokes he hadn’t even realized he’d had. 

They’d spent the whole day at the hospital, her poor dad getting poked and prodded. He was lucid enough, but the doctors said his short term memory would continue to degrade. Lacey slumped on to the sagging sofa once her father had gone to bed for the night, feeling an exhaustion that had nothing to do with lack of sleep. 

She hadn’t seen Gold since he kicked her out of his house on Friday night. She didn’t expect to see him. But now her stay in Storybrooke was stretching out before her with no end in sight. She would eventually have to go back to her life, but for now she was here. Her father needed her, and probably would for the rest of his life, however long that might be. Gold couldn’t skip town forever. He’d have to come back eventually. She would give him his space, she resolved. He didn’t want to see her and she wouldn’t force her presence on him. She’d done that once already and it had led her to forsake her marriage vows for the first time. Never mind that she had loved Gold long before she married Will. Never mind that they were separated, possibly never to reconcile. He didn’t deserve to be cheated on. He was a good man. She was the villain of this story.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed beside her and she looked down at it, not really having the energy to speak to anyone. But she couldn’t avoid real life forever. 

She held the phone up before her, swiping her thumb to answer the FaceTime call. 

“Hey, Will,” she said, trying to keep her face neutral. Pretending the sight of him didn’t make her want to cry. 

“Hey!” Will’s smiling face appeared on her screen. He was standing in their kitchen, in their apartment. She could see the overly complicated fridge he’d insisted on behind him. Lacey hadn’t had much use for a fridge that could play music and make shopping lists, but it made Will happy, something she just couldn’t do. “Look, I know you said you need space but it’s been days and I’m worried about you, Lace. How’s Moe?” 

“Worse than expected,” she admitted. “I didn’t realize…”

She trailed off, feeling the guilt of the last five years weighing so heavily that for a moment she couldn’t breathe. She had left Gold, she had left this town, she had left her own dad, the only family she had left in the world. Things had gotten rough between them, but he didn’t deserve that, to be abandoned by his only child. 

She had only thought of what she needed, to put as much space between herself and Storybrooke as possible. She was such a selfish bitch. 

“Lace?” Will prompted. She blinked, shaking her head. 

“It’s, uh, vascular dementia,” she said. “Probably caused by smoking so let that be a PSA for you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked it too, all big brown eyes. “Not your fault,” she said with a shrug. “You didn’t force him to smoke a pack a day for decades. But I’m gonna have to be here a bit longer than expected, I think.”

“Yeah, sure,” Will said with a nod. “Take as much time as you need.” 

“Thanks,” she said. And she meant it. Will would give her space and time and be there for her at the end of it, if she chose to return to him. Isn’t that what he’d done five years ago? The guilt gnawed in her belly. She never should have chased Gold down on Friday night. 

“Um, it’s pretty late here,” she said, glancing at her watch. It was almost 10 in the evening. 

“Oh, shit, the time difference,” Will exclaimed. “I’m headed out to dinner with some of the lads from work anyway. Um, when can I talk to you again?” 

Lacey bit her lip, looking at the corner of her iPhone screen instead of at Will’s big eyes. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ll check in in a few days or if anything changes.” 

Will looked disappointed but didn’t protest. 

“Look, Lace,” he said haltingly. She could see him set his phone down on the kitchen counter, bracing his elbows on the edge and leaning forward to stare at her through the screen. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said before you left, about that fight. You’re right. I shouldn’t be trying to force my idea of a perfect family on you. If you’re happy just the two of us, then so am I.”

Lacey smiled ruefully. 

“No you’re not.” 

He blinked owlishly. 

“What are you saying?” 

“The same thing I’ve been saying for weeks,” she said. “That you deserve everything you want in life. You deserve the picket fence and the 2.5 kids in the suburbs.”

“But I can’t have that with you,” he returned. “So I don’t need it. I just don’t want to lose you, babe.” 

“You haven’t lost me,” she said. You can’t lose what you never really had.

“It kind of feels like I already have,” he said, staring down at his hands clasped together on the kitchen counter. “Enjoy your time back home, Lace. I’ll see you when I see you.” 

With that the screen went black, the call ended.  

Lacey let out a frustrated groan, letting her head fall back against the couch cushions. What on earth could she possibly do? She’d tried to end things with Will, but he loved her too much to realize it. And it wasn’t as though she had a future with Gold. She’d burned that bridge thoroughly 5 years ago. 

A thump came from somewhere down the hall and Lacey sat up, listening. She heard the thump again and shot up, heading down the hall to her parents’ bedroom. 

“Dad?” she called, with a knock on the door. “Is everything alright in there?” 

The thump came again, sounding like a hammer against the wall. What had he gotten in to?

Fuck! Lacey thought, throwing the door open only to be met with the sight of her dad, still in his pajamas, stooped over his old toolbox and rifling through a box of nails. 

“Oh, hello sweetheart,” he said with a smile at her as he stood up. “Your mother’s been on me to hang these photos for weeks so I figured I’d better get on it.” He started hammering a second nail into the wall beside the first.

Lacey glanced at the floor next to his feet where an assortment of framed photos were stacked. The top one was from her high school graduation, Lacey sandwiched between her parents in her cap and gown, both of them beaming with pride.

“It’s the middle of the night, Dad,” she said wearily. 

Moe’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. 

“Is it?” he asked, turning toward the darkened window. “Well, look at that. The day must have gotten away from me. I’m sorry, darling. I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

“It’s alright, Dad. Just get some sleep, okay?” 

Moe set the hammer down on the bedside table, moving to climb into bed. Lacey made sure he was all tucked in before leaving the room, closing the door behind her with a gentle click. 

She leaned against it for a moment, closing her eyes. 

Will, Gold, none of it mattered right now. This was what was important, taking care of her dad and getting him through the day. She owed him that much after what she’d done.

7 years ago

“Miss French,” Lacey jumped, her eyes fixating on the woman in front of her. “Did you hear me?” 

Lacey shook her head, completely overwhelmed by the steady stream of medical lingo that had just been thrown at her. She’d been at work at Granny’s when she’d received a call from the hospital. Her mother had flatlined. They’d been able to revive her, but they weren’t certain how much longer she had.  

“Um, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping her sweaty palms against the red skirt of her uniform. 

“She had a seizure,” the doctor repeated. “We’ve revived her twice already, but we cannot get in touch with your father. It’s putting a lot of stress on her body and I’m not sure how much more she can take. We need you to make a decision.” 

Lacey shook her head, feeling completely lost. 

“What…what kind of decision?” Lacey asked. 

“Your mother doesn’t have a DNR. She doesn’t have a medical power of attorney. You would know best what she wants.” 

What she wants. They needed Lacey to tell them whether to pull the plug. To let her mother die with some sort of dignity or keep shocking her back to the half life she’d been lingering in for months. 

“I…I need my dad,” she said. 

“I know,” the doctor said kindly. “We can try calling him again.” 

Lacey nodded as the doctor walked over to the nurses station, speaking quietly to them. 

She wandered down the hospital hallway to where her mother’s room was, peeking in through the doorway. Colette didn’t look like herself. She looked small, and frail, and old. She’d been so beautiful, so full of life. Her mother had been gone for months. This shell, this broken husk, it wasn’t Colette French. 

She knew what her father’s decision would be. He’d want to keep her with him as long as possible. When she was a child, Lacey had thought her parents had a storybook romance. The way they told it, Moe had fallen head over heels the moment he saw her in a park in Melbourne. Colette had been reading on a park bench and Moe, never much of a reader himself, had sat next to her and asked her about her book. Colette had rambled on for 30 minutes about Dostoyevsky and at the end of it, he was smitten, never mind he had no interest in Russian literature. They’d married 6 months later. 

But her father wasn’t here now, when his darling wife needed him most. He’d said he couldn’t see her like this, but he couldn’t let her go either. She was his world. 

Lacey wasn’t sure she’d ever feel that kind of love for someone. She didn’t feel it for Will, despite going out with him semi-regularly for the past two months. But if she did find love like that, she’d want to be with them at the end. To hold their hand, to tell them it was okay.

Lacey squeezed her eyes shut, sinking down into a chair outside her mother’s room. She wished someone would tell her everything was going to be okay. But the only person she could think to call at the moment had his own burdens. She couldn’t add to them. 

Twenty minutes later, her mother coded again. 

Lacey could hear the frenzy from inside the room, the doctors and nurses doing their best to keep her mother technically alive. 

She braced herself for the end, breathing steadily through her nose and trying not to succumb to the waves of grief lapping around her ankles. 

“Miss French,” the doctor was beside her again. 

“Yes?” she returned, though she knew what the doctor would ask. 

“We’ve tried to get hold of your father. He’s not answering the home phone or his cell. Do you know where else we could try?” 

Lacey shook her head. She had no idea where her father disappeared to these days. He wasn’t at Granny’s or the Rabbit Hole. There weren’t many other places in town open in the late evening. 

“Then I’m afraid we’ll need a decision from you.” 

Lacey looked up at the doctor with wide eyes, the waves of grief reaching her chest now. 

“I’m just a kid,” she gasped out. It wasn’t true. She was 21 years old. She was an adult in every respect. But right now she felt like a frightened child. She wanted her mother. She wanted her Daddy to show up and take care of everything. She wanted the grown ups to make the decisions.  

“I’m sorry, Miss French,” the doctor said. “Lacey. I’m so sorry.” 

Lacey nodded, swallowing down the bile in her throat and trying to form the words she desperately didn’t want to say. 

“She wouldn’t want all this,” she managed to croak out. “She’d want to be at peace.” 

The doctor nodded, disappearing inside the room. A moment later she was back at Lacey’s side. 

“We removed her intubation tube and other life support,” the doctor said. “She’s on pain medication to make her comfortable. If you’d like to sit with her…” the doctor trailed off, looking at Lacey sadly. 

“Yeah,” Lacey nodded. “I want to be with her.” 

She felt numb as she entered the room, sitting in the chair next to her mother’s bed. Colette had never been a vain woman, but she’d taken care of herself, presenting a pristine appearance to the world. The dye to cover her grays had grown out, her face gaunt despite the feeding tube. The fine lines around her eyes and mouth, etched there from years of joy and smiles, looked deeper in the fluorescent lighting. Lacey wished she could brush her hair for her, apply her favorite lipstick, do something to make her look like herself. 

“Mum,” she said, her voice wavering. “Mum, it’s Lacey.”

She took her mother’s bony hand in her own, her skin feeling dry and cold. “It’s okay, Mum,” Lacey said, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t know if you can hear me. But if you can, you can rest. I know you’ve fought so hard to stay with us, but…I can’t let them torture you just to keep you here a few more hours or days.” 

Lacey closed her eyes, sobs wracking her body. 

“I’m here Mum, you’re not alone. I’m here.” 

She stroked her thumb against the back of her mother’s hand. The beeping from the machine next to her bed was a slow drone, her mother’s chest rising and falling so shallowly it was almost imperceptible. Lacey sat there, holding her mother’s hand for what felt like ages as the beeping slowed ever more. She talked to her about everything and nothing. Telling her about her dates with Will and her conversations with Mr. Gold. She told her about an article she read in the New Yorker and a movie trailer she’d seen online. She told her that she was the best mother she ever could have asked for. She told her how much she loved her. It could have been minutes or hours later when the sound of the flatline droned out. Lacey squeezed her mother’s hand, feeling like she’d cried too much to ever cry again. Even still the tears came again. She leaned forward, kissing her mother’s forehead as the doctor called time of death. 10:38 PM on January 4th. 

After the doctor had shut off the machines, after they’d removed the wires and tubes, Lacey sat with her, her chest hurting from the sobs and her face feeling tight and sticky with dried tears. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do now. 

“Where is she?” she heard a voice from the hall. A familiar voice. “Where’s my wife!”

A moment later Moe French barrelled into the room, taking in the sight of his wrung out daughter, his wife’s body on the bed. 

“What did you do?” he demanded of Lacey. “What the fuck did you do?”

“You didn’t answer the phone,” Lacey’s voice rasped out. 

“You did this,” he accused. “You let them kill her!” 

“She was already gone, Dad,” Lacey said, tears stinging her eyes once more. “She was gone.” 

“Get out!” he shouted at her. “Get away from her!” 

Her father stumbled forward, collapsing in tears across the bed. 

“Colette,” he moaned out. “Don’t leave me, darling. Please!” 

Lacey just sat there frozen. She’d never seen her father cry. He’d never raised his voice to her either. 

“Didn’t you hear me!” he cried out viciously, turning to look at Lacey with such blistering hatred in his eyes that it took her breath away. “GET OUT!” 

Lacey jumped up from the chair, stumbling backward out of the room. 

The Following Friday

There was much to be said for Gold’s little cabin in the woods. It was beautifully situated, right on the edge of a tranquil lake. Neal had swam in the lake in the summers as a boy, and ice skated there in the winters. The inside of the cabin was small and rustic, but cozy, easily warmed by the large stone fireplace in the living room. The one small bedroom had a window out to the lake that framed the sunrise beautifully. The front porch boasted two rocking chairs, the perfect spot for a cup of coffee of a morning or a glass of wine in the evening. 

Unfortunately, if one was not inclined toward swimming or ice skating, or meditating over coffee, or birdwatching, or hiking, it could be downright boring. 

The internet and cell service were spotty, and despite catching up on his reading, by Friday morning, Gold was growing restless. 

In addition, he was running low on provisions. The loaf of bread in the larder had gone stale, he was almost out of coffee beans, and most damningly, he was completely out of whisky. 

It was time to head back to Storybrooke.  

Besides, she couldn’t possibly still be in town. Last Friday night would be one ill advised indiscretion that he’d never have to think about again. Never mind that he’d thought of it constantly alone at his cabin. He’d had little enough else to occupy his mind. He’d replayed every moment of their last encounter over and over again. The way she’d smelled, the sounds she made, the feel of her soft skin against his own. It was enough to drive a man mad. The last five years of celibacy hadn’t helped in banishing thoughts of her from his mind. Lacey French had opened a dam of feelings and emotions that he’d repressed for half a decade. Suddenly he was wanting things, things he had no right to want again. And he was still so utterly furious with her. 

She’d broken his heart. He couldn’t let her do it again. 

But Lacey was certainly gone. He’d given her a whole week to look after her father. Hopefully she was on a plane even now back to the other side of the country. He could go back to the carefully crafted stoicism that kept him from feeling anything too keenly. Not his loss, not his lust, certainly not his love. 

The drive back into town took no more than half an hour, and Gold decided to stop at the grocery on his way home, certain his coffee and whisky stores at home were just as depleted as the cabin’s. 

He was slowly perusing the aisles, in no real hurry to be home, shopping basket in one hand and cane in the other, when he caught a whiff of something achingly familiar. He set his basket down, turning away from the shelf of cooking oils and looking around. 

It was the warm scent of cinnamon, spices and jasmine, earthy and beautiful. A scent tied to powerful memories, and one he had reveled in again just one week ago. Lacey . 

Just as quickly the scent was gone, and Gold could have believed he’d imagined it. She’d been on his mind enough these days. But something in his gut told him she was here. And the part of him given to self destruction had to see her. 

He rounded the next aisle, spotting her a few yards away. 

She froze at the end of the aisle, her hand halfway outstretched for a box of cereal. She dropped it quickly, turning and heading off in the other direction. 

Something perverse within Gold made him follow her. 

“You're still here,” he called at her retreating back.

Lacey stopped, turning to face him, but her blue eyes refused to meet his. 

“Yes,” she said, her shoulders sagging. “I’ll stay out of your way.” 

“See that you do,” he returned coldly. “How long do you plan to be in town?” 

Lacey shrugged. “Indefinitely,” she said. 

Gold nodded stiffly. He couldn’t very well hide in his cabin for the foreseeable future. For one, he had a much more comfortable home here in town. Secondly, he had businesses to run, tenants and clients and customers. No, he couldn’t hide like a dog with his tail between his legs. He would have to live with the fact that Lacey could be lurking on any street corner. Perhaps seeing her regularly would numb the pain, would make him immune to her. He could only hope. 

“I’m going to help my dad with his shop,” she continued. “Make sure money is coming in. And take him to his doctor’s appointments, make sure he’s taking his medication and eating well, all that stuff.” 

Gold just nodded again. 

“Like I said, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“It’s a small town,” he observed. “We’re bound to run into each other.” 

Lacey licked her lips, and didn’t he just hate that he couldn’t help but look at her mouth, imagine the feel of it on his own. He wanted to kiss her, right here in the middle of the grocery store where any town busy body could see. And he also wanted her to leave and never come back. He wanted her to be as broken hearted as he still was, no matter how much time had passed. 

“Daniel,” she said softly, stepping closer to him. “I don’t want to hurt you. I promise you’ll never see me. If you do, we can ignore each other completely, okay? These are the last words you ever have to hear from me.” 

“I’m not hurt,” he lied. 

She took half a step back, a look of hurt crossing her own face. His hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach for her. He’d always wanted to give her comfort. It’s how they’d wound up here in the first place. 

Lacey nodded. “Okay,” she said. “I’ve got to finish the shopping. Goodbye, Mr. Gold.” 

She grabbed a box of cereal off the shelf blindly and tossed it into her shopping cart before wheeling it off, not giving him a second glance. 

7 Years Ago

She’d never been to his house before, though of course she knew where he lived. Storybrooke was a small enough town and there were few homes as grand as Mr. Gold’s. She stumbled there blindly, her boots slipping in the snow. She was shivering, her teeth chattering from the cold and from grief and from fear. Her father would never forgive her. And she wasn’t sure she could forgive him, for abandoning her, for forcing her to make decisions that never should have been hers. 

Before she knew it she was standing in front of the three story pink Victorian she knew to be the Gold home. She trudged up the icy steps, knocking twice on the front door. 

It was late, nearly midnight, and if Lacey had been remotely in her right mind she’d never have bothered him. He had lost more than her, a child rather than a parent. He’d been alone for the past five months while she’d still had her mother lingering between life and death. She had no right to seek him out for comfort. 

And yet here she was. 

A light flickered on behind the stained glass window, a shadow moving in the hall, before the door was thrown open. 

He must have been asleep was Lacey’s first reaction. He was wearing a dressing gown over a pair of navy blue pajamas. It was an incongruous sight. She’d never seen him in anything but a buttoned up three piece suit. She’d be willing to bet no one outside of his immediate family had ever seen him as undressed as she was now. A funny thing to think about at a time like this. 

“Lacey,” he said with a look of surprise. “It’s freezing out. What are you doing here?”

“You were sleeping,” she blurted out. 

Gold’s eyebrows rose imperceptibly. 

“No,” he assured her. “Attempting to, but not meeting with much success. You didn’t wake me.” 

“Oh,” Lacey said, her teeth chattering. “That’s good.”  

“You’re shivering,” he pointed out, ushering her inside. “Come in out of the cold.” 

Lacey stepped into his foyer, the door shutting behind her and shutting out the world just as decisively. 

It was warm, and not just because of the heated air. Everything about the house was warm and inviting, decorated in shades of burgundy and gold. Even the lighting felt warm, like she was being embraced by the house itself. 

Some people probably would have thought Gold’s home would be sterile and cold, but Lacey knew better. He was the only person in the whole damn town who cared about her, a silly 21 year old college drop out with no future. 

Gold led her down a short hallway and into a sitting room, two large leather sofas facing each other across an antique coffee table. 

“Sit,” he told her, gesturing to one of the sofas. “And tell me what’s wrong.”

Lacey took the offered seat, wrapping her arms around herself. She was still in her Granny’s uniform, her little white puffer jacket the only thing shielding her from the cold night. 

“She’s gone,” she croaked out. “My mother.” 

“Oh, Lacey,” Gold said, taking a seat next to her. The sofa dipped under his weight and Lacey slid slightly into him. He placed an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said, staring blankly at the coffee table. “I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

“Well, you’re more than welcome,” he said. “But what do you mean nowhere to go? Where is your father?” 

Lacey shook her head. “He hates me,” she whispered. She could see the look on his face, the hatred in his eyes, every time she closed her own. Whatever relationship she’d had left with her dad since the accident seemed well and truly destroyed. 

“What?” 

“It was my fault,” Lacey said, her voice rising in pitch. “I told them to take her off the life support. I’m the reason she’s dead!” 

“No,” Gold said fiercely. “None of this is your fault. It was that bloody fucking drunk who took everything from us. It could never be your fault.” 

“I didn’t know what to do,” Lacey continued. “She just looked so frail and so tired. I couldn’t let them keep bringing her back. She wanted to go, I know she did.” 

“You should never have had to make that choice,” Gold said, rubbing her back. 

“He’ll never speak to me again,” she said. 

“Of course he will,” Gold said. “He’s your father and he loves you. Grief makes people say and do terrible things. But never doubt a father’s love.” 

Lacey shook her head. 

“He hates me,” she said again. 

Gold didn’t say anything more, just held her until the shaking subsided, her nerves finally calming after the adrenaline left her system. Her head leaned against his chest, nestling under his chin and he readjusted them on the sofa until she was stretched out beside him, his heartbeat thumping reassuringly under her ear.

He’d never touched her like this before, she thought, arms wrapped around her, his big hand rubbing her back in slow, steady strokes. It was intimate, almost like lovers.

Their relationship over the past several months had been friendly, comrades in arms, but there’d been carefully drawn lines between them. He was twice her age, for one. It was something they’d never acknowledged but always seemed unspoken. They were united in their shared grief, but nothing inappropriate ever occurred. 

Mr. Gold was a perfect gentleman. 

Lacey knew she was attractive. She’d never lacked male attention. But to Mr. Gold she was as sexless as an old running shoe. He’d never shown the slightest interest in her that way. That was one of the reasons she liked him so much. 

She moved her head slightly, looking up at his face in the lamplight. His eyes were closed and she wondered if he’d drifted off. It was late after all. 

Her eyes traced the line of his nose, his sharp cheekbones, down to his lips. For the first time she wondered what they would taste like, how it would feel to kiss him. The quiet intimacy of snuggling with someone on their sofa suddenly had her thinking all sorts of inappropriate things. 

Her heart still hurt so badly, broken by the loss of her mother and her father’s anger. She thought she’d probably never feel happiness again and yet, here she was objectifying Mr. Gold in his sleep. 

She wondered what he would do if she pushed him back on the sofa, and straddled his lap. Would he stop her? What if he didn’t? 

He really was so handsome. She wasn’t sure when the thought had turned from a detached assessment to a visceral need. He was beautiful and she wanted him. She wanted him now. 

She turned her head, pressing her nose into his neck. He smelled so good, warm and clean, like laundry fresh out the dryer. But there was something spicy there too, some hint of aftershave. She could feel his pulse beneath her lips, the steady thrum. The ones they loved were gone, cold and lifeless. But he was so warm and alive. 

She didn’t want to feel dead anymore. She’d been sleepwalking through the past few months, in a constant state of mourning her mother. She was exhausted by it. She felt far older than her twenty-one years, haggard and drained. She wanted to feel alive. Even if it was only for one ill-advised night. 

She moved her lips against his neck, a soft fluttering kiss just beneath his jaw. She felt him tense beneath her, holding himself deathly still. So not asleep after all. 

Lacey leaned up on her elbow, looking down at Gold, his eyes still shut. She could swear he was holding his breath. 

She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. Gold’s dark eyes flew open, wide with shock as Lacey pulled back slightly.

“What are you doing?” he whispered. 

“Kissing you,” she said softly. She kissed him again, and this time he kissed her back, his lips warm and soft. It was a short, chaste thing before his hands came up to cup her shoulders, pushing her back gently as he sat them both up.  

“Lacey, you’ve had a trying evening,” he pointed out. “You’ve suffered a devastating loss.” 

He was pushing her away. She should let him, she should get up and walk away before she fundamentally altered their little friendship. But she had nowhere else to go. She didn’t want anywhere else to go. 

“I want this,” she said. “I want you.”

An unfathomable look passed across his brown eyes. Confusion crossed with something like longing. Then he shook his head.

“You’re only saying that because you want to feel something other than the pain.” 

Lacey scooted forward, closing the distance between them he’d created. 

“Is that so bad?” she asked, running her hands through his long hair. “Don’t you want the same? To forget for a minute and feel something good?” 

He caught her hands in his own, holding her wrists lightly in his hands. They were rougher than she would have thought, calloused. She wanted to feel them everywhere. She wanted to see beyond the little triangle of skin exposed by the open neck of his pajamas. She wanted him.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Mr. Gold,” she said, her voice almost pleading now. “But I think we could help each other.”

“How?” he asked, his voice ragged. His eyes were so large, so vulnerable. “What would it help?” 

He still had hold of her wrists, but she chanced reaching for his hair again and he let her. She combed her fingers through it, running her short nails against his scalp. His eyes slipped closed and he let out a little sigh as he let her pet him. She wondered the last time he’d been touched like this. He’d been divorced as long as she could remember. Did he date? Did he have a girlfriend? Did it matter?

“How do you do it?” she asked, her hands slipping through his hair and down to the nape of his neck, rubbing at his tired muscles above the collar of his pajamas. “How do you wake up every morning knowing you’ll never see him again, never hear his voice? How do you get through the day?”

Gold licked his lips, his eyes still closed.

“It’s a bit like being on auto pilot,” he said after a moment. “I wake up, I dress, I go to work. I exist. It’s not living though, Lacey. It’s survival, nothing more.” 

“Exactly,” she said. “I feel the same way. These past 5 months have been hell. We deserve to feel good.” 

His eyes opened again, fixed on her own. She could see the same weariness, the same pain, the same hurt, reflected back at her.

“We could make each other feel good.” 

The air was electric, taut with tension. Lacey was afraid to breathe, to do anything that might break the spell. 

A split second later, Gold had her pinned to the sofa, his mouth relentless against her own. His lips pulled at hers, his tongue dipping into her mouth to taste her. Her hands found his hair again and she pulled at it as he grunted, his hips thrusting against hers. 

Lacey gasped as he broke away, kissing down her neck, pulling at the buttons of her white button down shirt. It was like she’d opened a dam and she was being carried away by the flood waters. All thought of anything but the man overtop her flew from her head. His hands were on her breasts, between her legs, and she was gasping and writhing with pleasure. 

“I’ll make it good,” he whispered against her ear as she clenched around his fingers. “I’ll make it so good, sweetheart.” 

And he did. It was one promise he always kept.

[evesaintyves]

for @remadoramicrofics 10/5 prompt, "Midnight." Nine 100-ish word drabbles. Read below or on AO3 🍻

 

1

The streets are shiny with all-day drizzle and they double the colour of the neons and the traffic lights and and the creature-eyes of cars. Young girls flocking down the avenue like calling birds. The fuzz and whine of a band tuning. And Tonks's eyes are smokey dark—Remus can't tell if she leaned into a mirror to line them with kohl, or simply squeezed them shut and changed them from within—and her lips are like glossy red lacquer. She's smiling, pulling his lapels to make him stumble into her. He's stumbling. He's letting it happen.

 

2

It's already midnight and he's due at work by four. He's just started, hasn't been paid yet, so Sirius is buying drinks. If she knows, she's been nice enough not to mention it. It's been months of this uncomfortable charity and Remus has been lying awake thinking of what happens when it dries up. The plan is to squirrel some cash into the bag he keeps always-packed out of habit for whenever things fall apart; the reality is, he's never been good at that. There's always some crisis or some hundred small exigencies eating his savings until they're gone.

3

He's thought about telling her. Not just tonight because he needs to get some sleep, but because he entertains a silly fantasy of her dropping by when it's slow, of slipping her an espresso and one of his chelsea buns, and her delighted face: Lupin, you made this? Leaning over the counter, playing with his apron strings. It's idiotic, and it's not how that would go. There'd be questions ( working for muggles? Do you need the money that much? ) and there'd be the tacit admission that this, baking rolls and tweezing biscotti into piles, really is about the best he can do.

4

She mentioned, once, that she worked at Madame Malkins' for four days before being sacked.

Well, she said, cracking a licorice snap, it was partly because I altered the uniform—horrible long frumpy thing. I made it shorter, nipped in the waist. I also made it lime green.

And... the other part?

Told a customer to suck my dick.

She played the line completely straight, which made him laugh so hard he inhaled a mouthful of the crisps she'd brought him, and the two of them had sat chuckling, in the dead of night on a surveillance mission, for an absurdly long time.

 

5

But when he thought later about the various reasons he'd been sacked—too ill to work, or worse, too ill and showed up anyway, bosses thinking he was dopesick or high, bony arms and knackered clothes making it hard to argue—it left a sour taste in his mouth. He has smiled through rudeness, through undisguised smouldering contempt, to keep a paychecque coming in. Dignity is a luxury.

When they stop for pizza the place is slammed, the slices take an age to reheat, and Tonks rolls her eyes and mutters unbelievable when the kid hands over their greasy paper plates.

 

6

There was a girl at a bar, long ago when he was twentyoneish and still trying, who pulled at his clothes quite like Tonks is and let him kiss her in the fog of last-orders cigarettes outside. He was drunk, absolutely trollied, and when she yanked back from kissing him to look him in the face he could see that she was too.

You reek of chips, she told him, and hailed a cab.

He'd lost his job at the chippie moping about it in bed all week. Fifteen years later, he still worries that he has that stench on him—not just of shit work, but of desperation. Loneliness.

 

7

She buys an entire packet of fags to smoke one and throw the rest away.

I'll smoke them all if I don't, she shrugs. Three hours until work. He's sobering up, but she still has this glow about her, luminous and hazy as the bar-lights reflected on the street.

I ought to get you home.

Out of money?

Er—

She presses up against him. Her smoke gets in his eyes. There's no lipstick on the cigarette butt; it must just be her.

I don't want to go home, she says. I'm having fun. I could kick around on the street with you for hours.

 

8

He almost tells her, then, standing by the rubbish bin on the corner, bass vibrating the pavement, being jostled by hen-nights and lads in packs walking four-and-five-abreast. But tonight has been so lovely he'd like to preserve it under glass, keep it on a shelf, look down into the electric colour of it forever. If he told her, there'd be fumbling explanations, she'd muster herself to seem excited for him, the way she does. Not tonight. Not this one night.

So he bends to kiss her cherry lips instead.

He hates the taste of cigarettes. Still, it's heavenly. She slides her hands under his jacket and around his back.

 

9

Four-sixteen. He flips the switches. Fluorescents buzz like a headache. He's late because he indulged himself to brush his teeth and shave. Buns out to proof, then into the oven. Coffee grinding, that head-clearing smell. Closing shift left the milk out. Down the sink.

Before he flips the OPEN sign, when it's dark outside the windows and the café is just a bright box in a black void, it's easy to imagine: the bun fresh and steaming, her blue fingernails clinking on the little espresso cup. She takes a bite, makes a tiny wordless sound. Closes her eyes, lost in pleasure.

image by me

[theclairvoyage]

Chapter 3: Flor de Caña

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x AUSA!f!reader

Fresh off acing his marksmanship test, Javi returns to The Dark Horseman, where he gets to know an alluring attorney.

Chapter warnings: alcohol consumption, smoking, firearm use, adult language, mentions of violence, mentions of human trafficking, mentions of drugs, mentions of graphic violence, mentions of substance abuse and death, allusions to smut, crime scene investigation, murder, reader is able-bodied, has long hair and is roughly the same height as Javi, Spanish usage (translations at the end)

WC: 4k

Fall 1992

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Javier shoves his Glock 19 in his waistband, sweat droplets rolling from his forehead and audibly landing on the cold cement floor of the outdoor shooting range at the Federal Building.  Penn stands behind him, stopwatch looped around his wrist, clipboard clutched to his chest, occasionally pulling it in front of him to jot down scores.

“Alright, Peña—last stage,” he barks, “2 shots standing and 3 kneeling, all behind cover and all from 25 yards.  You’ll do that twice.  Questions?”

Javi spits as he shakes his head, some stray dirt, bugs, and sweat having accumulated in his mouth during the first 7 stages.  He wipes his brow one last time, loads the Glock, and gets ready for Penn to give him the go-ahead.

“And… go!” Penn yells.  Javi goes into action mode, standing behind the wall prop and peeking out to shoot the target.  Bang.  Bang.

He drops to his knee and aims, firing three more times.  Bang.  Bang.  Bang.  Rinse and repeat.

He stands, signaling that he’s done.  Penn clicks the stopwatch and tallies Javier’s score on the clipboard.  He whistles.

“Congrats, Peña—you passed, and with an instructor certification score of 56/60.  You’ll be able to teach this stuff once you’re fully certified as a special agent,” Penn says, clapping Javi on the back.  Javi snorts.

“Thanks, Penn.  Shooting in the jungle makes everything else seem so easy,” he murmurs.  Penn guffaws.

“Now we can finally set up this stakeout in Lawton,” he says, cheesy grin plastered on his wrinkled face.  Javier is elated—he had been looking forward to being out in the field again and partaking in the action.  Stakeouts were his bread and butter—he spent countless hours posted up in an unmarked vehicle or building surveilling and directing moves in Colombia.  It felt good to finally be able to put his skills to use.

“What’s the preliminary plan?  And site?” Javier asks, unloading the chamber of his warm gun.

“There’s an International Festival next week that spans 3 days.  It’ll be packed.  People from all over Oklahoma and the country attend.  Our surveillance team has gotten confirmation that the Locos will be there, most likely looking for falcons and setting up transactions,” Penn says.  Javier nods.

“So, are we planning on posing as employees?  Police?” Javi guesses as Penn leads them back into the building.

“Specifics are still in the works, though I like your thinking.  We’ll work with OKCPD and LPD to figure out the best plan,” Penn says, impressed.  Javi fights the urge to roll his eyes—he might’ve been an FBI rookie, but he’d had years of experience as a federal agent under his belt.  He decides to give Penn the benefit of the doubt—the man is corny, but he’s at least giving feedback.

“US Attorney’s Office gonna be assisting?” Javi asks nonchalantly, already knowing Penn will have something curt to say.  Sure enough, Penn winks at Javi.

“Miss her already, eh?” Javi rolls his eyes so hard it hurts.  Penn chuckles.  “Just givin’ ya shit.  Yes, the Assistant US Attorney will be helping.  Might even be part of the surveillance team.”

Javi’s eyes widen.  “S’not a good idea for her to be in plainclothes.  People probably know who she is and that might set off some alarms,” he reminds Penn.

“You are correct,” Penn agrees, “But she doesn’t usually go out in plainclothes.  She’ll be watching and listening elsewhere.”

Quietly, Javi breathes a sigh of relief.  He’s already protective of you—something new for him.  Penn, like clockwork, interrupts his thoughts.

“Peña—you’ve got one test left before you’ll be a fully certified Special Agent.  Your Supervisory Special Agent training will take place after that,” he beams, clapping a hand on Javi’s shoulder.  Javi shakes his head, smirking.

“I’ve had some practice, Penn—should’ve been certified sooner,” he bemoans.  He’s always been tough on himself, reflective of how he was raised.  Penn scoffs.

“You’re doing great.  We really are lucky to have you—the DEA screwed up real bad,” he chuckles.  Javi snorts.

“Take the rest of the day—we’ll figure out a plan with the Assistant Director, US Attorney’s Office, and the PD Teams soon.  Nice work.”  Javi gives Penn a single nod before leaving for the day.

Javi awakens in the hours post dinnertime that evening.

“Fuck,” he groans.  He doesn’t nap for this reason.  He glances at his watch, digging into his wrist from his slumber.  It’s not too late, but late enough for a drink.

He’d lied down when he got back from work, exhausted from the marksmanship test, and relished the comfort of his new sectional.  His apartment was finally starting to resemble a residence, and not a bachelor pad.  Unfortunately for him, though, the couch might’ve been a little too comfortable.  It was a stark contrast from his stone slab of a mattress.

Throwing on some jeans and a loose button-up linen shirt, he makes the trek to the Horseman.  The creaky door opens the same way it always does, and the jukebox is playing the same slow song, but there’s something different—you.

You’re perched in the same chair you were last time he saw you here, though you’re wearing shorts and a baggy tee.  He glances at your long, smooth legs and swallows hard—he’s starting to think that perhaps every part of you is perfect.  You turn and watch him saunter over to the bar, smirking.  Javi can’t help the smirk that follows on his own face.

He pulls back the chair next to you and gestures.  “Is this seat taken?” he says, voice still raspy from his nap.  You notice, cocking an eyebrow at him, smirk still contouring your cheeks.

“It is now,” you reply smoothly.  Javi’s stomach does some somersaults as he pulls up next to you, realizing this is the first time you two have been in such proximity.  He takes a deep breath as the bartender pours him his usual, taking your scent with him.  He fights the urge to groan.

“You look tired,” you say, eyeing him as he takes the first sip of his whiskey.  His hair is slightly mussed, button up shirt undone at the top, revealing a strong, tanned chest.  His sleeves are short, too, showing off ropy forearms.  Your thighs contract instinctively.

“Made the mistake of taking a nap,” he replies, smoothing a hand through his hair.  It’s like he heard your thoughts.

“Another rookie mistake,” you quip, bringing your glass to your lips.  He bursts out laughing, uncovering a brilliant smile that you had failed to notice.

“You’re funny, Lawyer Lady,” he says, staring at you as you take a sip.  His gaze spans your face, making frequent stops at your lips and eyes.  He’s not even trying to hide his attraction, now.  You giggle and shake your head, not meeting his eyes—you can feel them pierce your skin.

“Seems like you got it all.  Brains, looks, charm.  Must be nice,” he says, nudging your side lightly with his elbow.

“I should charge just for my presence, yeah?” you joke, pulling another belly laugh from him.

“Well, if law doesn’t work out, you have a few options,” he replies.  It’s his turn to take a sip now, and you watch as his lips groove over the rim of the glass, mustache hairs swaying from the air escaping his nostrils as he tips back.  That fucking mustache did things to you, made you squirm inside.  You wanted to feel it scratch the skin on your lips, your—

“Why do I feel like you’re hitting on me, Javi?” you croon, a lame attempt to silence your dirty thoughts.  He stiffens, nerves alight—usually, he’s on point with the charm when it comes to women.  You, though?  Different ballgame.  You sniffed him out from the jump.  He figures up a witty remark before the awkward silence settles.

“What, no one’s ever told you that you’re smart and beautiful?  I’m the first?” You’re caught off guard by his humor, and another loud laugh escapes your lips.  You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Peña,” you say, finishing your drink with a quick swig.  He shivers at your compliment.  The bartender comes over and raises his brows at you, silently asking if you’d like another.

“Yeah, I’m good for more.  Late start tomorrow,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Pulse thrumming, Javi leans back in the chair as he thinks of something to say.  He wants to know you but doesn’t want to push too fast.

“You live close to here?  Or you just took to this particular hole in the wall?” Javi asks, spinning the chair to face you.  You watch the bartender pour you another glass before doing the same, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back.  He tries not to glance down at your legs.

“Both,” you reply, taking a sip.  Javi nods.  His gaze is hot on your face.  He’s entranced by your eyes, but damn, his are just as magnetizing.  He realizes he still doesn’t know the mysterious brown liquid you’re drinking.

“Whiskey drinker?  You are from the Midwest,” he asks, reaching for a toothpick from the bar station.  He maneuvers it around his mouth, tip rustling the bristles of his mustache, drawing your eyes there.  He turns to look at you again, and you tear your gaze from his lips.

“Hell no.  Rum.  My dad was the whiskey drinker.  Couldn’t put that bottle down,” you say, voice dropping in volume slightly.  Javier assumes he’s dead, by your change in tone and expression.

“Sorry to hear that.  My dad loved the bottle, too,” he says, tilting his head at you involuntarily.  You lock eyes with him for a moment, and he sees pain.  Pain that you’ve gotten adept at stuffing behind the many boxes within your brain.  Your lips pull into a smile, but your eyes don’t change.

“It’s a hard thing to quit,” you say, nodding slowly and looking away from Javi.  He can tell this is a sore spot for you—your demeanor has morphed from playful to solemn, though you still seem happy.  Instinctively, he reaches out and touches your forearm, sending shocks up to your shoulder.

“I know exactly what you mean, hermosa,” he says, not fighting the compulsion this time.  You are beautiful, after all.  He removes his hand after a beat, the warmth from his fingertips lingering on your skin.  You crack a big smile, and your eyes finally match.

“Anyway.  I see you discovered that I’m not married,” you say, lips twitching into a smirk.  Redness blooms on his neck and ears as he recalls looking at your left hand in the conference room the other day.

“Sorry—instinct,” he says, half-truthfully.

“Yeah?  Been with a lot of married women?” you poke.  He loves how playful you are, sparring with him like one of the boys.  There’s a childlike curiosity to you that fascinates him.  He chuckles, turning away to take a sip.

“I won’t lie to you, I have,” he says matter-of-factly.  “Not my finest moment.”  Now, it’s your turn to put a hand on his forearm.  He freezes at your touch.

“It’s okay—I was partly joking.  Not judging you,” you say.  He turns to look at you, deep amber eyes smoldering.  It catches you off guard and scares you—he could make you do anything if he looks at you like that.  Your heart threatens to escape your ribcage.  You swallow, tucking the nerves away, and speak again.

“I did some reading up on you, Javi.  You’re highly regarded in the DEA world,” you say, removing your hand from his arm and propping your head on your hand as you study him.  He shrugs, lips moving to one side of his face.

“It was a hard gig, chasing Escobar.  I’m glad I’m here, though,” he says, staring in your eyes.  It’s quiet for a moment, except the sparks flying between the two of you, hot and molten.

“Me, too.  We’re lucky to have you,” you say, finally breaking eye contact to take another sip.  His eyes travel down to your crossed legs, to your worn sandals, back up to your face.  He can’t get over how gorgeous you are—and he’s never had to hold back with a woman like this.  Taking a deep breath and another sip of whiskey, he studies at the bottles behind the bar momentarily.

“So—you drinking Captain?” he asks, head bobbing as he searches for all the rum bottles on display.

“I honestly don’t know—I think tonight is Flor de Caña,” you say in perfect Spanish.  Javi’s not surprised but impressed.

“¿Hablas español, hermosa?” Javi tests you, eyes crinkling from the big smile he’s sporting.

“Sí, empecé a aprender cuando era joven,” you reply, not missing a beat.  He shakes his head as he turns away, still grinning.

He was fucked.

“You try a new one every night, then?” he asks.  You nod.

“Yeah, if I can.  Makes things interesting,” you reply, swishing the brown liquid around the glass as you try to count off how many bottles you’ve tried behind the bar.  You’re not sure—this quiet tavern does a surprisingly good job of rotating liquors at a decent pace.

Feeling a whiskey-powered surge of bravado, Javi takes a risk and asks a personal question.

“So, Lawyer Lady—you ever been married before?” he asks, turning to watch your reaction.  You mirror him and cock an eyebrow, pursing your lips in amusement.

“Nope.  What about you?  I’m sure women fall over for you,” you ask, matching his courage.  Your brand of it is sexier, though, he thinks.  He snorts, a lame attempt to disguise his giddiness from yet another compliment from you.

“No, hermosa—never had the time nor the desire,” he replies.  You nod slowly, breaking eye contact and staring down at your glass.  He can’t tell if you’re surprised, bummed, or just thinking.

“Me neither.  Odds of anything lasting are too low for my liking,” you say, finishing your glass.  He chuckles.

“So, you’re a math nerd, too?” Javi teases, poking your ribs again with his elbow.  You shake your head and laugh, some loose hair falling from your shoulders to your arm.  Instinctively, Javi pulls them from your skin, the feeling of you electrifying his fingertips.  His touch burns your skin.  Your breath hitches ever so slightly, but he notices.

“Sorry, it’s j—,” he starts, before you cut him off.

“Instinct?  I figured.  It’s okay,” you tease him, punctuating the word playfully.  His fingertips rest on your forearm as he stares at you, still blazing, his gaze sweeping down to your lips.  The rum has you feeling quite brave, too, and you test the waters with a question of your own.

“And what’s behind the way you keep staring at my lips?  Instinct, too?”

Javi’s heart bangs against his chest, eyes widening briefly in surprise before he feels the blood in his limbs rush to a different appendage.  Fuck it, he thinks.  He feels good about this.

“That, or I just really wanna kiss you.” His eyebrow cocks as he half-smirks at you, leaning closer to you ever so slightly.  At this point, he’d normally be balls deep in whatever poor lass approached him at the bar, clothes piled on the floor and tongues tangled, but he wants to savor this—it’s almost foreplay, the way you two tease and tango.  He struggles to keep his erection tame in his jeans.

You giggle quietly, almost mischievously, fantasizing of you perched on your kitchen countertop, legs wrapped around Javi as he fucks you slow and hard.  You can almost hear his pants and groans in your ear, breath caressing your skin as his lips and teeth mark your neck.  You shiver.

“What’s funny, hermosa?” He asks, tantalized, similar images projecting in his head.  He needs to leave soon, before he busts out of these jeans.

“Oh, nothing at all—truly,” you say with a sly smile, taking some cash out of your purse and dropping it next to your empty glass.  You stand from the chair and stretch absentmindedly, the hem of your shirt lifting to reveal the bottom half of your navel and smooth hipbones loosely draped in denim.  Javi’s eyes immediately lock on, and he takes a deep breath, trying to stifle the growl in his chest.  He takes another sip, aggressively.

“¿De qué piensas?” he asks, still watching as your arms come back down, shirt hem slowly covering your exposed skin.  You groan as you finish releasing the tension in your back and shoulders.  Fuck, he does like every sound you make.

“About how not ready I am for this recon mission coming up,” you lie, folding those pornographic images and other feelings about Javi you’re not ready to acknowledge in the pit of your mind.

“Piece of cake.  Trust me.  Can I walk you out?” he says, fishing bills out of his wallet and standing to join you.  He despises the thought of you walking alone in the dark, even if you’re well-acquainted with the area.  You nod, smiling softly at him.

You wave at the bartender and head for the exit as Javi follows, his warm hand finding home on the small of your back as he guides and opens the door for you.  You feel safe around him, which simultaneously alarms and arouses you.

The outside air greets you, quiet gusts nipping at your skin.  You instinctively wrap your hands around your arms and rub the goosebump-ridden flesh.  Javi curls his hand around your waist and pulls you closer, hoping to share some of the warmth from his body with you.  You relax into him as you walk toward the parking lot.

An eternity seems to pass as both of you trek toward your car, quiet steps in perfect synchrony.  The streetlights paint both of you in a flickering melon-amber glow.  You feel almost ethereal in his grasp, and he, too, as he holds you so closely to him.  His grip on your waist is soft, but his arm is firm around your back, a silent promise of protection.  This is not how either of you expected your day to culminate, but it’s a welcome surprise.  Oddly enough, it doesn’t feel foreign.

Your unique scent invades his nostrils, fucking with his head—he’s so giddy and nervous from being around you, but touching and smelling you makes his dick grow harder and harder as you get closer to your car.

“This is me,” you say, nodding toward a beat-up sedan.  Javi whistles.

“This is what they got you driving?  C’mon, LL—you need something fancier,” he jokes, lightly squeezing your waist.  Rolling your eyes, you laugh and pull your keys out of your purse, facing away from him.

“It’s inconspicuous—it’s not my car, either,” you say, winking playfully at Javi.  He swallows hard.  You turn to look at him and study his face.

The earth stills for a moment as both of you ponder how to say goodbye.  Javi wasn’t kidding earlier about wanting to kiss you, needing to feel your plush lips and your body pressed against his.  You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want the same.  All you’d need to do is lean in a bit and close your eyes.  Javi’s gaze draws a triangle from your eyes to your lips, fingertips lightly digging into your side.

A loud gale interrupts your thoughts, your hair flying into your vision.  Javi, acting on instinct once again, reaches to smooth the strands from your face.  You blink at him.  His hand hooks under your jaw, thumb swiping the soft skin of your face.  Your legs tremble ever so slightly.

“I’ll see you around, hermosa,” he breathes, leaning in.  You close your eyes and expect his lips to meet yours, but they don’t—they brush your cheek in a soft, soft kiss.  It’s delicate, sweet—and irritating.  You wanted more.

“Bye, Javi,” you murmur, surprisingly frustrated.  You turn away and try to leave his grasp, but he holds you firm at the waist.

“Hey,” he says, urging your attention, “You okay?”

You blink a couple times as you stare back at him, heat pooling in your cheeks.  He sees the frustration on your face.  You’d somewhat melted in his touch and peeled back some layers, showing him more emotion than you’d preferred—now, it’s made you feel like an idiot.

“Yes, of course… why wouldn’t I be?” you breathe, realizing now that you’re panting.  Javi is, too—holding back like this is a skill he’s not practiced often.  He still has a hand on your cheek, the other on your waist.  Puppy dog eyes stare back at you, hypnotizing you into tranquility.

“I normally don’t… don’t do this kinda stuff,” Javi says, looking down at the ground briefly.

“Do what?  Meet up with somewhat strangers at weird taverns and discuss alcoholic fathers?” you quip, grinning.  There, you are.  Javi chuckles.

“Only beautiful ones,” he adds, expression softening. Your smile fades and cheeks burn at his compliment.

“Something tells me that you’re good at getting people to do what you want,” you admit, mesmerized by his gaze.

“Yeah?  Are you included in that?” he asks quietly, pensive brown eyes glued to yours.  He’s not looking at your lips, now—he wants to see you.  You laugh breathily and shrug.

“You’ll have to present solid evidence to convince me to do anything,” you tease.  He chuckles again.

“So… can I convince you to go out into the field with me in Lawton?” he postulates, raising an eyebrow at you.  Your eyes widen in disbelief.

“Absolutely not—no matter how good you are,” you say, chuckling incredulously.

Suddenly, Javi pulls you into a warm embrace, arms looped under yours and barred across your back.  You sigh heavily, wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and sink into him once again, now taking in his scent.  Cedarwood, musk, aftershave, whiskey, and faint cigarette smoke—complex, yet telling.  A man in pain, struggling to find purpose.  Your heart sinks at the thought of him drinking his own life away.  Javi pulls away slightly after a beat and you feel his breath—and smirk—on your earlobe.

“You have no idea how good I am, hermosa,” he whispers.  You freeze momentarily and stifle a whimper at the thought of what his mouth and that mustache can do.  You unwrap from each other, and he holds your hand for a moment before kissing the back of it softly.

“Bye, Rookie,” you breathe, smiling.  A similar one cracks on his face.

“Adios, hermosa.”  You watch him turn and walk the opposite direction, hand pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Hey!" you call.  He turns to face you, now walking backwards toward his apartment.  He cocks his head at you and grins as he takes a drag.

“Stuff’s gonna kill you,” you scold him playfully.  He shakes his head, smiling as he pulls the cigarette from his lips and exhales a trail of smoke from the side of his mouth.

"S'not the only thing."

Javi walks home with a pep in his step.

Your scent lingers on his shirt, in his nostrils.  Sweet, spicy, alluring.

Pictures of your face plaster the walls of his mind.  Your beautiful eyes, your wit.  Your boisterous laugh.

He wants to hear all your sounds, to see all your emotions spilling out of those captivating eyes.  He wants to feel your breath quicken as he brings you to ecstasy and feel it slow as you fall asleep next to him.

And as he finally drifts off to sleep, he dreams of your skin on his, your laughter, and a field of flores.

¿Hablas español, hermosa = do you speak Spanish, beautiful?

Sí, empecé a aprender cuando era joven = Yes, I began learning when I was young.

Flor de Caña = Cane Flower

¿De qué piensas? = What are you thinking about?

Taglist: @burntheedges <3

Please message me or reply to this if you want to be added! :)

[animatorweirdo]

When the dragons fly(book 2)

With Helena's encouragement, you leave the village to investigate the strange pulling you felt toward the forest. Aelon and his friends end up facing a peculiar problem.

Chapter 3

Warnings: mentions of medicines, an injured eye, someone being a creep, sensing strange calling, orcs, panic, being bitten once, an angry old man and his turtle.

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

You dropped down the pile of wood into the stock. The wooden blocks clacked against each other while you brushed your hands from the wood dust and dirt. You looked up to Dwenn, who leisurely rocked on his chair and held his pipe in his hands, releasing small puffs of smoke. 

"Alright, that should be all. The floors are clean, the orders are ready to be delivered, and you have enough wood to warm up the house for a few days,” you said as you stepped beside him. 

"Thank you, (Name). I have nothing else for you to do, so you are free to go and spend the day as you like," Dwenn blew a pillar of smoke from his mouth before pulling the pipe between his lips. His once-injured eye now covered with an eyepatch. 

"Have you remembered to take your medicine for today?" you asked. 

Dwenn growled, slightly annoyed by the mention of his medicine. "I think I will be fine today without that nasty liquid in my body. I don't want to feel tired all the time," he complained, making you shake your head with a smile. "That medicine has helped you heal from your injuries, and do not forget that I've already allowed you to use your pipe against Eda's strict orders," you said with a scolding tone while handing him the medicine you carried on yourself, in case he forgot or ignored it on purpose. 

"Fine..." Dwenn grabbed the vial. He popped off the cork and drank the medicine with one gulp. 

Helena walked over to you with a positive attitude. "You're looking better every day, Dwenn," she stated. "Maybe a few more days, and you will be already running around like before," she added. 

"I hope so, Helena. Unless I fall asleep and never wake up since I already sleep so much." Dwenn replied with a dramatic tone. 

"Rest is good for you. Once you're all better, you can stay awake as long as you want," Helena said, then slipped her hand around your arm. 

"Can I rob (Name) for a moment?" Helena asked. 

"All the day's work has already been done. She's all yours," Dwenn waved his hand. "Great. Come along," Helena smiled, pulling you away before you could protest. 

You two then walked through the village. "What's on your mind today?" you questioned as the woman beside you was more energetic than usual. 

"I just need someone to complain to and share certain rumors," Helena grinned. 

"I've heard from my father that orcs have been appearing in these parts more frequently, sometimes even in packs," she began. "According to my father, they've been behaving strangely. All he could discern was that the orcs seem to be searching for something," she explained, gaining your interest. 

"What could they be looking for?" you asked. 

"No one knows yet. All we know is that they are looking for something here. It started happening a month after Aelon and Samuel’s return, along with the well’s water,” Helena answered as your attention drifted toward the forest, the strange feeling from yesterday coming back. 

You do not know why, but you have been bothered by the strange sensation since you returned from your trip to the town. It was like a pestering call. 

"I have also seen Ennard looking at me strangely again. I hope he's not up to swooning me again, as he likes to call it," Helena said with a tone of annoyance. "When will he understand that I am not interested in him? He's just as old as my father," she added as you continued looking toward the forest.

"I have also heard that Mr.Figwitt's pet turtle has gone missing again. I wonder what's that about," she said as you two arrived at your house. She then notices your absent attention and sees you staring at the forest. 

"(Name)! Are you there?!" she waved her hand in front of your eyes, startling you for a moment. 

"Sorry..." you quickly uttered as you turned your gaze back on her. 

"Is there something bothering you today? You have been rather distracted lately," Helena asked, crossing her arms. 

"No! It's just…” you tried to think of a way to explain it. “I've been having this odd feeling since yesterday, like... I have a strange urge to go out and find what is causing that feeling," you described. 

"Now, that is interesting. Maybe you should go there and find it," Helena suggested. "I... don't know if I should," you hesitated. 

"You're not doing anything for the day. If it's Aelon you're worried about, I could watch him," Helena offered, pointing at herself.

"Okay... alright. Are you sure about this?" you asked, slightly dumbfounded.

"Yes! What's the worst that could happen? Now go!" she pushed you toward the village.

"Okay… I might as well go buy the duck I forgot," you said, turning toward your house, where you could hear Aelon practicing in the backyard.

"Aelon!" you called out. 

"Yeah!" his voice called back. 

"I'm leaving to get some duck! Helena will watch over you!" You yelled. 

"Okay!" Aelon yelled and continued his training. 

"Make sure he doesn't get in trouble," you said, glancing at Helena, who only grinned in return. “Yeah, yeah, now go find the source of that mystery feeling,” she added as you walked away.

Aelon practiced hard with his training sword, focusing on his movements and footwork while trying not to let anything distract him. Beads of sweat formed on his skin as he slashed through the air, maintaining controlled and steady breathing.

His ears then picked up someone running around his house. 

"Hey, Ae!" Eweniel called out in a hurry. "Rodrick asked us to meet," she exclaimed. "Why? What's wrong?" Aelon asked, stopping in his tracks. "I don't know, but he said it was an emergency. Come on!" she said hastily. 

Aelon's eyes widened. He dropped his training sword and followed Eweniel as the two ran around his house. 

"Where are you two going?" Helena questioned when she saw them. She was sitting on the porch, doing stitching. 

"To see Rodrick. Can I go?" Aelon asked. 

"Sure. Just stay in sight of people and stay out of trouble. Your sister won't be happy if you do," Helena pointed at him. 

"I will, thanks!" Aelon replied as he ran off with Eweniel. Helena only shook her head with a smile as she continued stitching the cloth in her hands. 

The two arrived at the tree, where they usually met to play or plan pranks together. Rodrick, along with Ramuel and Samuel, were waiting there. Rodrick bore a panicked expression, pacing back and forth while fumbling his thumbs—something he did when he was nervous or scared.

"What's the matter? What happened?" Aelon asked as he arrived with Eweniel. 

"Thank the Eru! You're here!" Rodrick said with relief. "Okay... umm... have you guys heard about Greeny going missing?" he asked. "Mr. Figwitt's pet?" Ramuel questioned with a confused tone. "Yeah. Greeny— she went missing, and Mr. Figwitt is not happy about it," Rodrick nervously said. "Alright... and why are you so worried about it?" Aelon questioned with a frown. 

"I might be responsible... why she's gone missing," Rodrick answered. "And Mr. Figwitt doesn't know it yet," he added, and his friends groaned and yelled in surprise. 

"No wonder you called it an emergency. Mr. Figwitt will eat you alive if he finds out you lost his pet turtle," Eweniel remarked. 

"I know! I need your help to find her!" Rodrick said, flinging his arms like a panicked bird. 

Aelon and his friends remained quiet, thinking about the situation. Personally, Aelon would stay away from Greeny since the little monstrosity had bitten him since the first time he saw it, but he did not want to leave his friend at the mercy of Figwitt, who was known to dislike children. He was a grumpy old man, who looked closest to a feral goblin if Aelon ever came to see one. And the only thing that ever made him happy was his pet turtle, who was just as mean as him. 

"Okay... I help you," Aelon sighed, dropping his shoulders. 

"Really? Oh, thank you, Aelon! You are a real friend!" Rodrick cried tears of joy. 

"Whoa, you're brave! I thought you were scared of Greeny?" Eweniel grinned. " I am, but I am more afraid of Figwitt, and it would be pretty cruel to leave Rodrick under his mercy," Aelon said. 

"Alright. I guess I'll help too," Eweniel said. 

"We would help too, but..." Samuel hesitated, glancing nervously at Ramuel.

"Our parents said we need an adult if we want to go anywhere," Ramuel explained, looking at the ground.

"But then they would probably tell Figwitt if they knew I lost Greeny," Rodrick said fearfully.

An idea then popped into Aelon’s head: a possible solution. 

"We could ask Helena. She's supposed to watch me and she likes keeping secrets," he suggested. "Okay. She should be fine," the twins said. 

"Alright, let's go," Eweniel declared as the group left their meeting place to find the missing turtle. 

After leaving the village and traveling some distance, your horse whined as you came to a stop.

You stared at the forest on the spot where you first started feeling the strange sensation to follow and find. The mysterious pull of the forest intensified, its call growing stronger the longer you fixed your gaze upon the wooded expanse. The enchanting allure beckoned you with an irresistible potency, tugging at the threads of your curiosity.

Climbing down from your horse, you secured the reins to the nearest tree, ensuring your companion would wait patiently behind while you went to investigate the forest.

As you wandered deeper into the forest, the strange pulling tugged you toward the direction it wanted you to go. 

You arrived at a rugged stone hill. As the pulling told you to climb,  you cautiously stepped over the rocks, ascending higher till you began to hear scratching and chirping sounds, piquing your curiosity. 

As you scale the uneven rocks, the source of the commotion becomes clear as your eyes fall upon a large nest. Your eyes widen in a mixture of shock, surprise, and excitement. "Oh, hello—" you begin to say as the small eyes focus on you.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn​ @kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain

[boldlyvoid]

Midnight Runner 3

18+ Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: What's worse than crushing on someone at a time like this? Falling in love with them.

Warnings: season 4 canon scenes just fruitier, background ronance, mentions of steves bloody wounds, hurt/comfort, love confessions (kinda), emotional heart to hearts

word count: 11k

Fic Masterlist

Eddie was scared of 2 things, currently: spending his life in prison… and dying at the hands of an evil wizard from another dimension. So when he got into the boat with Nancy and Robin, the last thing he expected was to develop a 3rd fear: 

Losing Steve. 

They got out into the middle of the lake and the compass started to freak the fuck out, Robin radioed back to Dustin to say his theory was right and before he could even reply, Steve was taking off his shoes and socks. 

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy wants to stop him before he makes any stupid decisions thank god. 

“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out… unless one of you three can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for 3 years, it’s gotta be me,” he says, so matter-of-factly, rubbing it in that he was the brawn to their brains. “No complaints. Alright?” 

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Eddie doesn’t fight it, he simply takes everything out of the shopping bag he’s been carrying around in his pocket— it had his smokes and a lighter, and all his snacks were gone now. “I do not wanna go down there…”

Steve was going to want to see under the water, and the flashlight wasn’t going to like being wet, so he wrapped it in the plastic bag and tied it real good. Steve’s done nothing but feed him and worry for his safety these last few days, Eddie was going to repay him by protecting him. From the boat. There’s no way he’s going down there with him.

Steve takes his sweater off, Nancy stares at his chest with a look of admiration… he was her first time, she’s always going to look at him a certain way. Robin caught that, staring back at Nancy with a smile that screamed just how fond she was of Nance after getting to know her better these last few days. Eddie watches it all happen, everyone is looking at someone else, they were a party that cared for one another first and foremost. It was nice. It felt like a family. 

“Hey,” Eddie gets Steve’s attention to hand him the flashlight. Steve, ever the flirt, smirks and says hey right back to him. Eddie wants to smile back and say something about him stripping and putting on a show for everyone but there’s this anxious feeling gnawing at his stomach and he can only reply with: “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” Steve replies, tossing his shirt to Eddie. 

First, he shows up in track pants with that ass, then he admits to liking him and now he’s shirtless and deliciously lit by the moonlight… Eddie takes a cigarette out of the pack and places it in his mouth because sweet Jesus Harrington was pretty. Just as he flicks his lighter, robin takes the cig from his mouth and tosses it in the water. “Gross.” 

Eddies about to say something when Steve starts to stretch and hype himself up, they all notice he’s about to jump and Nancy cuts him off. “Steve…” she panics, making him turn around. She gives him the softest expression he’s seen from her in a long time. 

She can’t verbalize that she still cares for him because what would that mean? They’re exes, and she has a boyfriend… at least, kinda? Robin said Nancy seemed to be having issues with him, so is this all just a way to get over him? She can’t tell him she cares about him, but she can ask him to “be careful.”

He gives her a little nod and then flashes his attention to Eddie. It’s a mere millisecond of his time, but it says everything. I’ll be back for you. 

Before anyone can say anything else, Steve jumps off the boat and into the water. They grip onto the boat and stay completely still as statues, hoping the stele frame will even itself back out on the lake, and eventually, it does. 

All three of them are on edge for the same, yet completely different reasons. 

Robin loves Steve with her entire being, he is the brother she always wanted and the friend she was always supposed to have. He is her person. 

Nancy has a million things she still hasn’t said to him and they all start with I’m sorry. She would give anything to be Steve’s friend again, especially now, especially if it means Robin comes with him. 

And Eddie… Eddie wanted to take him out and show him a good time and god willing, make him his. Repay the favour from that first night and treat him properly from now on until forever. 

He wanted to love Steve Harrington. 

“Where are we at, Wheeler?” Robin asks, her voice shaky with fear. 

“Closing in on a minute,” Nancy replies, watching the second hand on her watch come right back around. 

They’re waiting on the light to come back. They watched it fade as he got deeper and deeper and then it went pitch black. Eddie figured that when he was swimming back up, they’d see the flashlight again and they’d be able to calm down. But they never saw it. The water is pitch black and as still as ever. Like Steve never jumped in, in the first place. 

Suddenly Steve emerges above the water, arms flailing, he takes in a large gasp of air and scares the shit out of all of them but only Eddie yells. “Jesus Christ!” He can’t help it, he’s been on edge for days and Steve just kept scaring him. 

“I found it,” Steve gasps, swimming towards the boat and taking hold of it so he wouldn’t have to tread in the water for so long. Once he caught his breath he’d get back in… it wasn’t going to be pretty trying to haul himself back over the side of the boat. 

“You found it?!” Nancy is so excited to see him and hear the news. 

“Yeah, I found it… it’s more of a snack-sized gate than the mama gate but still, it’s pretty damn big,” Steve explains, the lack of oxygen still evident in his breathing patterns but he’s trying. 

And then something grabs his foot. Steve is tugged down below the water, causing them all to scream and panic, but he comes back up. He wipes the water ff his face and stares at them like what the fuck was that… and then he’s gone again. 

“STEVE!” Eddie panics. “Steve!! No, no, no!!! Steve!” He yells over the other two, leaning over the side of the boat to see nothing. The water is too dark to know what happened. “What the hell was that, man?!”

“Nancy, seriously what the hell was that?!” Robin panics, but Nancy is silent. 

They turn to her with looks of pure terror, but Nancy isn’t panicking. She’s in survival mode— no, protector mode. She doesn’t even think twice, she just places her boot on the edge of the boat and goes to jump when Eddie grabs her hand. “Wait, wait, you’re not going in there, are you?” 

“Just wait here,” she pushes his hand off of her and jumps in. 

“NO NANCY!!!” Robin freaks out next, Eddie hears a similar fear in her voice. The two of them stare at each other, not knowing what the fuck they were going to do without the two people who know what to do in a situation like this. 

Robin thinks about it for a second, she takes a deep breath and hauls herself to the edge of the boat. She didn’t want to do this, but not only was Steve down there… 

“No, no, no, no,” Eddie reaches out. “What are you doing? She said wait.” 

“Yeah, I heard her,” Robin says with another exhale, she was getting ready to go no matter what he said. 

“She’s in charge!” He freaks out because if Robin goes and if Nancy is already down there, he has to go too. Everyone who loves Steve should be jumping in right now to go after him and Eddie is so scared, too scared. He needs an excuse not to follow Nancy and if Robin goes, he doesn’t have that anymore. 

“Are you kidding me? I made that shit up.”

Before Eddie can even say anything, she plugs her nose and tosses herself back off the boat. 

“God-damn-lying-son-of-a-bitch!” He freaks out, tossing Steve’s shirt to the floor of the boat, he stands… then he sits again, but ultimately he stands back up and gets ready to jump in too, “oh this is stupid. This is so stupid… shit, shit, shit, shit!” 

He jumps in head first, the water is so fucking cold. Shockingly so— it is March after all… after the initial shock of it all, he starts to swim deeper and deeper. It’s hard, the water fights him the whole way down, and about halfway there, he sees the glowing red light that must be the gate. He follows it, reaches out for the weeds around it and pulls himself forward until he’s ripped through the gate and tossed out the other side. He was prepared for more water, but he was tossed onto the hard rock that should be the lake floor. 

The first thing he hears is screaming. He stands up with Robin and Nancy who are all searching for him, they can’t see him behind the shipwrecked boat covered in vines, they can only hear him. Nancy picks up an oar from the ground, she tosses it back to Eddie and grabs another for herself, robin on the other hand grabs the once-abandoned flashlight and follows them toward the sound of his screaming. 

Without thinking, Nancy sees the thing attacking him and hits it with her oar as hard as humanly possible, sending it flying. “Hey there.” 

The adrenaline that rushes through Eddie is more intense than any drug he’s ever taken, he’s able to fend off the bats coming to attack them while robin and Nancy hand the two that attacked Steve’s chest. He’s still on the ground, eddies on his way to tear the thing off him when Steve bites into its tail and pulls it off without letting it get away. He swings the bat around like a fucking rag doll, hitting it off the floor again and again until it stops trying to fly away. He places his bare foot onto the centre of the beast and tugs on the tail, successfully ripping it in two. 

The 4 of them back up into each other, nothing’s flying at them, everything is dead… but the pieces of the beasts are still moving around trying to catch up to their own deaths. Once they realize the immediate danger is over, thats when it sets in. 

“Jesus Christ…” Eddie mumbles to himself, registering that he just killed something for the first time in his life and he was in another dimension and it was in fact scary as hell. “Jesus H Christ!!” 

Steve, however, he’s bleeding and tired and he almost drops to the ground if it wasn’t for Nancy catching him. “Are you okay?” 

Steve looks down at himself for the first time, and Eddie sees it too. “They took about a pound of flesh,” Steve chuckles with disbelief, “but other than that… yeah, never better.” 

Nancy checks behind him, Eddie does too, but Steve’s only been bitten on his sides and he’s bleeding around his neck from the spikes on these little fuckers tails… but he looks okay. It looks liveable. 

“Uh… do you guys think that these bats have, like, rabies??” Robin asks, leaning over a bat and staring at it with her flashlight. 

“Excuse me?” Eddie can’t believe he’s hearing her right, that’s what she’s scared about right now? 

“It’s just that rabies are like my number one greatest fear, and I think we should probably get you to a doctor like really soon—” she starts to ramble. Steve looks like he’s heard it all before while Nancy looks at her with disbelief, shaking her head lightly. “—because once symptoms set in, it’s like too late, you’re already, like, dead.” 

In the distance, the bats make their gut-wrenchingly awful screech, drawing their attention away from Robin's anxiety. Eddie rushes to Steve, he goes to stand in front of him but Steve pushes him back, he makes sure he’s in front of everyone. His arms out, he makes sure they’re safe… they are everyone he’s ever loved in his entire life, after all. 

5 bats land around the gate, fishing with their tails for something to eat. “We can take them… right?” Steve whispers. 

But he speaks too soon, lightning illuminates the sky to show off the hundred of bats headed their way for what must be dinner time… there was no way they were taking them all. 

“The woods, come on!” Nancy points, taking off before the others. 

The 4 of them run as fast as they can towards the shoreline, mostly uphill from the deepest part of the lake towards the boat launch, over dead fish and lost tires, around vines connected to Vecna and finally, they reach the forest. There’s enough tree coverage to keep them hidden from the bats, but even if they did see them, they were preoccupied with going to the gate for a snack. 

They run all the way back to skull rock, hiding under it for cover until the sky sounds empty again. It's genuinely terrifying. Eddie has never been so scared in his life… and he’s been through some shit from the age of 4 to 20. Nothing was ever this horrific. 

When the coast is clear, they think they’re fine and all go to stand back up… but Steve isn’t fine. He topples over himself and falls against the rock, barely holding himself up. Nancy rushes to him and Eddie wants to, too… he just doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. He doesn’t know if he’s Steve’s little secret. He doesn’t know how much he still loves Nancy, but he’s starting to realize she might still love him. So he stays back. 

He lets her clean him up, she rips her shirt and makes a homemade bandage for him all while robin rants about rabies. Eddie can’t watch, he runs away once again… standing at the edge of the tree line like a coward because seeing Steve in pain makes him want to cry. Instead, he climbs over a fallen tree like an idiot and takes a look at the land. 

“So this place is like Hawkins but with monsters and nasty shit?” He calls out, mostly to robin so she’ll talk about anything other than rabies. 

“Pretty much,” Nancy answers instead, helping Steve back up to his feet. “Hey, watch it! This is all a hive mind.” 

“Right, shit, sorry,” he remembers what Steve said the other night and slowly but carefully makes his way back down. 

“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people, obviously?” Robin double-checks.

“As far as I understand it, yeah,” Nancy nods. 

“So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and get guns and grenades and whatever else we need to blow up those bath things that are guarding the gate,” Robin suggests like it’s easy. 

“Yeah, I highly doubt that the Hawkins PD has grenades, robin,” Steve shakes his head, “but yeah, sure, they might have guns.” 

“Well, we don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns,” Nancy reminds Steve but the others have no idea. “I have guns. In my bedroom.” 

“You,” Eddie points at her, “Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural? In your bedroom?” He can’t fucking believe it. Little miss goody two shoes was actually keeping guns in her shoeboxes and no one would’ve ever known. 

“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” Robin says, overwhelmed and just talking for the sake of it now. 

“A Russian Makarov and a revolver—

“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one,” Steve teases, bumping shoulders with her. 

“You almost deserved it,” she says in a tone that sounds a lot less friendly. It makes Eddie’s blood boil the way she stares up at him. 

He just can’t take it anymore. Steve was his. What better way to prove it than to mark him with his scent… he takes off his jean vest and tosses it at Steve, hitting him a bit too hard and taking him right out of his gross little eye-fucking session with Nancy. 

“For your modesty, dude,” he glares at him. 

Steve stares back, about to snap for the unneeded aggression when the earth starts to shake. Robin trips over herself and starts to fall to the floor, Eddie reaches out for her only to fall with her, cushioning the blow with his own body. Nancy falls into Steve and the two of them grip the edge of the rock formation to keep steady until the shaking stops. 

And when it does stop, every critter in this god-forsaken hell-hole starts to cry out. The forest echoes with sounds only heard in one’s nightmares, “yeah, so, guns seem like a pretty good idea to me,” Eddie suggests as the sounds die down. 

“Me too,” Robin agrees, still on the floor with Eddie. 

He hurt his knee when they hit the ground, he rubs it silently, waiting for Nancy or Steve to say something when they walk out in front of them. “So what are we waiting for?” Steve asks, now wearing Eddie’s jacket. 

Fuck. He looked good in it too. 

—

The walk from skull rock to Nancy’s house was too long… they stopped for a few breaks, they didn’t have any food or water so it was a struggle trying to keep going. The only thing that kept them from staying still too long was the sounds of the creatures in the distance. Luckily, they didn’t see anything, but they were definitely out there.

Nancy took the lead, with Robin at her side, and Steve stayed at their rear— he was the slowest with his injuries but also the most alert in times like this, Eddie stuck to his side, evening it up. The girls walked pretty fast, they were deep in conversation about god-knows-what while Steve kept his attention on making sure Eddie didn’t trip and trying to ignore the pain he was in. 

“Hey, man,” Steve turns to him, the girls up far ahead enough that he didn’t have to worry about them hearing… and honestly, even if they did, he wouldn’t be scared to tell Nancy the truth. With the way she smiles at robin when she rambles, he has a feeling that she gets it. 

“Yeah,” Eddie slows down, giving Steve a smile. 

“I just wanted to say thanks… for saving my ass back there,” Steve can’t help it. For a moment he felt like a goner, he couldn’t get loose, he couldn’t breathe… and then all 3 of them came to rescue him. All 3. 

“Shit, you saved your own ass, man,” Eddie bumps shoulders with him, shrugging it off. Steve places his hand on his back and pats him with a smile, it’s a small thank you. “I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there.” 

“Ozzy?” 

“When you took a bite out of that bat?” Eddie explains further but Steve still doesn’t get it. 

It’s also part of his shtick; pretend not to care and it drives them wild. So just he stares at Eddie blankly, shaking his head slightly. 

“Ozzy Osbourne?” Eddie clarifies further, looking absolutely let down that Steve doesn’t know him. “Black Sabbath? He-he bit a bat's head off on stage?” 

“I don't—

“No?” Eddie can’t believe it. 

Steve has to look away to fight the smirk bubbling inside of him. This is how he got his hooks into him. He wanted Eddie to keep talking, to explain it all to him with that glimmer of love in his eyes that he gets when he’s excited. 

Robin, just ahead of them, can hear it all. She turns to Nancy with a knowing smirk, “he’s so obvious… he does this thing where he pretends to be uninterested so that it drives them crazy and they want to talk to him more.” 

“He used to do that to me,” Nancy can’t help but laugh, looking back to see them standing so close. 

“It’s very metal, what you did,” Eddie drops his tone and bumps shoulders with him again, practically begging to hold his hand. “That’s all I’m saying.” 

“Thanks,” he takes the compliment, avoiding eye contact so he doesn’t lost in them and they don’t get left behind. 

“Henderson told me you were a badass… insisted upon the matter, in fact,” he keeps going with the compliments. 

“Wait, Henderson said that?” He can't believe it, he half expected them to bond over calling Steve an idiot or something like that… not this. 

“Oh yeah, shit, kid worships you, dude,” he exaggerates, Steve is sure of it. “Like you have no idea. It’s kinda annoying if I’m being honest.” 

Steve laughs, biting his tongue he almost replies, ‘you love it.’

“I don’t even know why I care what that little shrimp thinks,” he keeps going. “But uh, I guess I got a little jealous, Steve.” 

Steve says nothing, he just turns to him with a smirk, that same ego Dustin carries around starting to show in him again. Eddie was just digging a hole deeper into Steve's heart, making a home there with each new true and kind compliment. Normally people just called him pretty… sometimes funny. Never nice. Never loving. Never brotherly or badass or metal. 

“I guess I couldn’t accept the fact that Steve Harrington was actually… a good dude. Rich parents, popular, chick love him. Not a douche? No way, man,” he rants, invading Steve's space and talking with his hands. “No way. That, like, flies in the face of all the laws in the universe and my own, personal Munson doctrine.” 

He’s so up in Steve’s face, and so cute, he has to push him away with a giggle. But he comes right back, leaning in close, Steve’s given up on playing it cool and now smiling like an idiot. 

“Still super jealous as hell, by the way,” Eddie teases, close enough to kiss him. 

“Ch-yeah, okay,” he pushes him away, shaking his head with disbelief. He really likes this dork. 

“Which is why I would never have jumped in to save your ass. Not under any uh… normal circumstances—“ they stop when they hear a branch break, flashing the light through the trees, they don’t see anything except Nancy and Robin a fair bit ahead of them, laughing at something funny they can't hear. 

“Nope,” Eddie keeps going, staring off into the distance as he walks and talks at the same time. “Outside of D&D I am no hero. I see danger and I just turn heel and run… or at least, thats what I’ve learned about myself this week.” 

Steve follows him, “give yourself a break man,” he reaches out to touch his arm but Eddie grabs his hand and moves it off of him, halting all movement. 

“See?” He points over to Nancy and then stares Steve deep in the eyes. “The only reason I came in here was ‘cause those ladies came in straight after you. Now, I was too ashamed to be the one who stayed behind. But Wheeler, right there. She didn’t waste a second.” 

Steve looks over at her, confused why Eddie’s bringing this up. Nancy just does that. She runs into danger and thinks about the consequences later, that’s just who she is. She’s a protector. She’s an older sister. She’s a strong woman trying to keep everyone in the town safe, not just Steve. But Eddie wouldn’t know that. Eddie only knows her as the quiet goody-goody from some of his classes this year. He knows her as Mike’s older sister with the perm and the pink backpack who is always in the library, reading alone since her friend died. He doesn’t know that she’s a badass with a perfect shot. He doesn’t know she was apprehended by the government and recorded their whole conversation to expose them to the media, knowing she could go to jail or worse, be murdered for it. He doesn’t know the real Nancy. 

Or the real Steve for that matter. 

“Not one second, she just dove right in.” Eddie keeps going, trying to drive his point home but he just draws Steve’s eyes back to his own. “Now, I don’t know what happened between you two, but if I were you, I would get her back.” 

Steve's jaw clenches then. Not again... Not another person in his life trying to get him back with Nancy. 

“Because that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen,” he holds his hand over his heart, staring back at Steve with a look that can only be described as personal heartache. He doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He’s just trying to let him off the hook. 

They look back at Nancy and Robin, so far now they’re barely a shadow in the trees now. Steve, without thinking it through, reaches out and takes a hold of Eddie’s shirt and pulls him closer. His other hand lands on Eddie’s cheek just in time to guide him into a kiss. 

Eddie is shocked at first, stiff as a board for a good second before he settles. He carefully wraps an arm around Steve, inside of the vest so his hand rests on Steve’s bare back. He pulls them in so they’re chest to chest, breathing in deeply through his nose, he makes the kiss last as long as possible before they pull apart… barely. 

They rest their foreheads against each other, Steve rubs his thumb over Eddie’s cheek and stares into his eyes. “I don’t love Nancy.” 

“Okay,” he believes him. 

Everything starts to rumble again, sending them down into the dirt, Steve on top of him and saying Eddie’s catchphrase out of sheer surprise, “god-damn-it!” 

“Here we go again,” Eddie complains, holding Steve close and gripping the dirt for support at the same time. 

It lasts longer than the others, rumbling long enough to make something feel wrong. Really wrong. And then Robin is screaming Nancy’s name over and over. 

Steve and Eddie stand even through the rumbling, Steve takes his hand and tugs him along, running after their friends as carefully and as fast as they can. 

The world stops shaking when they meet up with her at the edge of the tree line, facing the toppled-down transformers covered in vines that used to stand in the field behind Nancy’s home. She’s frozen with fear. Seeing her home like this was a shocking thing. And now they have to go inside it. 

“Are you okay?” Robin asks, rubbing Nancy’s back softly. 

She nods, “come on.” 

The field doesn’t have any tree cover, it’s open and illuminated by the red lightning that cracks in the sky. Robin reaches out for Nancy’s hand, not even noticing that Steve and Eddie are also hand-in-hand. Nancy takes it, gladly, tugging robin along and keeping her safe while they’re exposed in the open like this. 

“I didn’t know they were close,” Eddie mumbles near Steve’s ear as they walk, not too far behind them. 

He shrugs, keeping his own voice down, he slows so they fall back a bit more, “she’s just like that… she lost Barb to a Demogorgon, she’s going to let any of us die down here.” 

“Wait, I thought Brass Barb died in a lab accident?” Eddie says a bit too loud, making Nancy and Robin turn around. 

“How’d you know her nickname?” Robin asks. 

“How’d you know it?” Nancy is extra confused when Robin knew it. 

“She can play every brass instrument in the band, she was interchangeable for a bunch of our players,” Robin explains… “we stood together every day for 2 years.” 

“Yeah, I was there too, until I got kicked out of band for flunking English the first time, you guys were sophomores then,” Eddie sighs, still pissed off about it. 

“Yeah, no, I remember,” Nancy shakes her head. “It just feels so weird to think about how long she’s been gone for, especially when I’m down here…” 

“So let’s get out of here,” Robin gives her a little smile, tugging her along quicker, the boys run just as fast behind them. 

—

Eddie followed Nancy up into her room to find those guns she spoke of, except all they found was her exact bedroom from November 6th, 1983… and while they’re in the past, Dustin and the kids are back in their own time, in the right side up, figuring out exactly what’s going on with these gates. Steve hears them in the walls like rats, almost going crazy trying to figure out why the fuck he can hear only Dustin speaking until the others finally come back downstairs. 

It's Erika's idea to get the light bright, light is literally in the name and you can make anything you want on it. It’s a genius idea and it allows them to talk through universes… she was the future of hellfire, and Eddie couldn’t wait to see what other wonderful ideas she had in her mind once they make it out of this. 

Turns out, what Nancy said earlier was right. Every time the Demogorgon attacked it left a gate and vecna was doing the same thing. If they got in through Patrick's murder site, there had to also be one in the woods where Fred died and on the ceiling of Eddie’s trailer where Vecna got her. 

The last message they send says “bike 2 Eddie’s” and they’re off, running down Nancy’s stairs and through the kitchen, towards the garage. “Hey, uh,” Eddie stops by the fridge, “you don’t suppose there’s like, anything still safe to consume here, right?” 

“No,” Nancy looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Come on, we have 7 miles until we get back to the real world and you can have a snack then.” 

“And what size, prey tell, are these bikes?” He continues to ask as he follows her outside. 

“Ah,” she smiles when she sees them. “You see, they were 12 and in my basement the night the gate opened the first time, so all 4 bikes are still here.” 

Nancy picks up what once was Will’s bike, it has Byers carved into the handlebars. It’s the smallest one, she’s the smallest of the 4 of them, so she takes it.

“So they’re preteen-sized, sick,” Eddie nods, picking up Dustin’s, it has a light on it, and it still works. 

Robin takes Mikes and Steve has Lucas’s, they’re not too small, their tires still have a decent amount of air and all the flashlights work. Luckily, the roads aren’t as covered in vines as the forest, so they can take off pretty fast. 7 miles wasn’t going to be too hard… but it did feel like forever. 

They passed the Creel house where thousands of bats circled around it like birds of prey stalking a meal. They picked up the pace and biked faster, all through the neighbourhoods that hated him on the other side, and even though the town looks like a nightmare, he takes it in as his last look. He has no idea if he’ll ever get to bike through town again without people throwing tomatoes at him… or worse, his last trip through could be in a cop car or a hearse. 

They enter the trailer park and Eddie takes the lead, he takes them down the winding path towards the middle of the park and points at the minty blue and white trailer, now covered in nasty shit, “right here!” 

He tosses his bike to the ground as soon as they reach the grassy part right in front of his trailer. He tries his hardest to catch his breath, arms above his head while he takes a look around… it’s so freaky with the vines and the perpetual darkness, but this is where he grew up. He doesn’t have enough time to panic about how fucked up this is because Nancy is already storming towards the trailer door. 

“Thats gotta be a Guinness world record,” Robin explains, lungs heaving, searching for air but still finding space to talk. “Most miles travelled inter-dimensionally.”

Steve coughs while following the rest of them towards the door, he spits out whatever was in his mouth, “I just inhaled a bunch of that shit.” Then he coughs again, more alarmed this time, “I think it’s stuck in my throat.” 

Eddie swings the door open and heads in first, he almost stops right in the doorway at the sight of his living room's new feature but he keeps walking so they can all get in. Steve closes the door behind them all and they huddle unintentionally for protection, Steve points the flashlight at the gate. “Goddamn…” 

Eddie hasn’t been back inside his home since Chrissy died. The last thing he remembers is looking up from the floor to see Chrissy on the ceiling, her bones breaking, the sound rings in his ear— he swallows, cringing inside at the memory of it all. “That’s where Chrissy died… like, right where she died.” His voice breaks, and he turns to Steve for support and finds it in his eyes. 

They say ‘it’s not your fault’ with the slightest shake of Steve’s head, they’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t notice what robin sees. 

“I think there’s something in there,” she panics, fearful more bats will break the seal and they’ll be trapped in a tiny space with deadly creatures. 

They all lean in closer, not stepping closer per say, but studying it carefully from where they are, “what the hell is that?” Steve wonders aloud, it’s exactly what they’re all thinking, anyway. 

Suddenly the gate bursts open, the red membrane breaks and goop starts to spill, they jump back, screaming for their lives for just a second before the adrenaline kicks back in. Eddie and Steve haul the girls back and stand in front but Nancy breaks past, watching the gate drop in horror. “Ugh? What the—

It's a broom handle that’s sticking through and from the other side they can see a brighter version of the trailer floor. They turn to each there with pure amazement. Dustin did it. That little shit pulled through. Literally. 

They hear his giggle before they see him, cautiously taking a few steps towards the gate, they look up to see Dustin, Max, Lucas and Erika celebrating their success of finding another safe gate for their friends, they get even happier when they see Steve, Nancy Eddie and Robin from the other side. Dustin waves, “hi there!” 

“Hi?” They all wave back, absolutely over the moon that they’re rescued and that the kids, their kids, managed to figure it out and get there in time. 

“We’ve got a plan to get you out, don’t worry!” Erika yells up to them. “Get it, Lucas,” she shoves him, sending the boys back to get the mattress. 

Max is holding a bunch of bed sheets tied together to look like the rope they climb in gym class, “we're going to toss this through… Dustin thinks that if it’s half there and half there then it has to stay secure in the middle? Cause that’s where the worlds meet and the gravity is different? I don’t know.” 

“Makes sense,” Nancy shrugs. 

The mattress gets thrown down on the floor and Eddie is immediately embarrassed. He’s had that bed since he was a preteen and it was Waynes before that, he spilled bong water on his bed the morning before shit went south and the others are… he doesn’t even remember at this point. He’s had those ugly yellow and brown butterflies on his bed for as long as he can remember. New sheets weren’t really something he ever thought to put on the grocery list when they had a perfectly good washing machine and no one slept in his bed but him? This is why. 

“Those stains are, uh…” he looks at robin and Nancy and then Steve and then back up, wanting to die ever so slightly. “I don’t know what those stains are.” 

“Mhm,” Robin looks at him with a look of disgust and then over to Steve, who looks at her just as alarmed. ‘This is really the love of your life?’ She asks with her eyes. 

He shrugs and sighs, ‘I guess.’

“Now, I’m not quite sure how these physics are gonna work,” Dustin cuts into the awkward silence and takes the rope from max. “But uh… here goes nothing.” 

He tosses it through and they jump back when it comes flying at them in the upside down. Dustin holds his end so it doesn’t all go through and then it stops. It hangs there with half of it dangling from each side, just as they suspected it would. 

“And if my theory is correct…” Dustin drops the side he’s holding and steps back with a laugh, “abracadabra.” 

“holy shit,” almost all of them mumble under their breath. It’s remarkable just how much Dustin knows and how much of it is applicable to the shit they go through. 

“Okay, pull on it, see if it holds!” Dustin calls up to them, watching Robin reach out and take hold of the rope. She tugs on it with all her body weight and it doesn’t budge at all. They all keep laughing in amazement, it’s just so fucking cool. 

“This is the craziest shit I’ve ever seen in my life!” Erika rants, “and I’ve seen some crazy shit…” 

Dustin reaches back to give her a high five, Eddie can’t even imagine what they mean by that… they’re like a decade younger than him, how could they have seen something that almost equals up to this?

Robin takes a deep breath and takes hold of the rope again, “okay, I guess I’m the guinea pig.” 

The younger group all backup, making way on the landing pad as Dustin puts it. Robin struggles just a bit but finds her footing, Nancy stands behind her with her hands up, ready to catch her if she falls, watching her carefully the whole way through. She flops over to the other side and lands on the mattress, on her back, she sits up with a smile. “Oh thank god… that was fun.” 

Dustin gives her a hand and helps her off the mattress, and she gives him a little hug as a thank you for getting them back through a safe spot. 

Eddie expects Nancy to follow her but she doesn’t and Steve isn’t going either, they’re looking at each other so Eddie just grabs the rope. “All right! I guess I’ll go.” 

Eddie jumps up and starts making his way up the rope, this was his least favourite part in gym but he did it every year, for 6 years. Only this year did they let him skip it and yet here he was, doing it anyway. 

“Easy, easy,” Steve worries, knowing he’s clumsy and he’ll fall a lot harder than Robin did, given how much bigger he is. He’s like a tank compared to her. 

Eddie smacks down onto the mattress and sits right up, wiping his bangs from his face he gasps, “that was fun? Shit,” he takes robins hand and she hauls him up to his feet so they can watch Steve and Nancy make it through next. 

“See you on the other side,” Steve says, not because he’s going next, but because he’s letting Nancy know she is. He’s not leaving until she’s out. She knows that.

She nods, “on the other…” she freezes, her eyes roll back into her head and Steve panics. 

“Nance… Nancy!!” 

“What’s going on!?” Robins shouts through the gate. 

“Oh no,” Steve starts to shake her. “Oh no, no, no, no, no…” 

“Vecna,” Max says it out loud, but everyone already knew. They’ve all seen Max go through this. 

“Music,” Robin smacks eddies arm, “she needs a song, oh my god… oh my god! Steve!! What song would have a good memory for her?” 

“I don’t know?!” He screams back at her, still shaking Nancy, “Dustin, what song played when she danced with you?” 

“I don’t remember!?” He screams, “and I doubt that’s her happiest memory?” 

“It doesn’t have to be the happiest it just has to give her a memory happy enough to get her out of his nightmare, she has to get to a dream, to the light, basically,” Robin rambles and thinks, she’ sees Nancy around all the time… like the other morning. 

Steve dropped her off just as Nancy was getting out of her car. The exact same song was playing on the radio moments prior, she locked eyes with robin and gave her a little smile and then waved at Steve. It was simple. It was happy. It was before all this shit started… yet if it never started, she’d never be this close to Nancy now. 

“The radio,” Robin points at Dustin’s walkie and they pass it to her, she turns the knob towards the radio station thats always on in Steve’s beamer and hopes to god they’re playing Object of My Desire by Starpoint. It’s been so overplayed lately, that she might just— “thank god,” she hears it and cranks the radio to full blast. 

“We can’t toss it through,” Eddie reminds her, “the towers are all down, down there, they’re not going to hear anything once it gets down there.” 

“Right,” Robin looks around, “get me that chair,” she points. 

Lucas hustles over and gets it, setting it up on top of the mattress so Robin can stand on the chair and hold it up to the gate. 

“Can you hear it?” She asks Steve, who’s picking Nancy up around the waist and lifting her up so she’s closer to the sound. 

“Yeah!” 

“Come on, come on,” Eddie mumbles to himself, tapping his thighs and watching carefully. It’s taking too long… it feels like it goes on forever, just like they described with Max. Chrissy wasn’t out this long, she had long since cracked and fallen back to the floor in this amount of time. It must be a good thing if it’s taking forever. 

The song is just about to end when Nancy snaps out of it, panicking and swinging as she comes to. She pushes Steve to the ground and crawls away from him, “it’s okay, it’s okay!” Steve assures her. 

“Oh, thank god,” Robin steps down from the chair and turns the walkie off. She moves the chair off the mattress but stands back on it so she can watch what happens on the other side. 

Eddie steps into view as well, watching Steve soothe Nancy while she pushes him away. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” 

“Okay,” he lets it go. “Can you climb?” 

She nods and looks up to see Robin, she sighs and softens. “Yeah, I can.” 

Robin pushes Eddie back so Nancy has the full mattress to fall down on, they watch her climb the rope carefully and flop down just like they did, only less enthusiastically. Robin breaks away from Eddie and helps Nancy off the floor, “you’re okay?” 

She nods, “yeah, I… I talked to him?” 

“To Vecna?” Max knows but she asks anyway. 

Nancy just nods, following robin off the mattress so that Steve could come through, finally. Eddie anxiously watches as Steve climbs the rope and tosses himself down to the floor with a hiss and a whine, he’s been thrown around quite a bit and it was starting to show. The others crowd Nancy, not knowing Steve was so badly attacked beforehand, so it’s just Eddie that helps him up, he holds Steve close and rubs his arm, “you okay?” 

He nods, “I’m okay…” Steve makes his way over to the others, he places a hand on Nancy’s back, “you don’t have to talk about it right away, you know that?” 

She nods, “yeah, I know… um, we should all take like a few hours to just chill, I don’t think he’s going to get right back to it. I think he likes the challenge.” 

“We shouldn’t be here,” Dustin reminds them that they’re currently inside a taped-off crime scene, “is your mom home?” He asks Max. 

She shakes her head, “no she has a 24-hour on shift at the hospital, she’ll be home around noon though…” 

“Okay, we’ll head next door,” Lucas agrees, opening the door to let Erika out first. 

“Um,” Nancy doesn’t mean to draw all their attention back to herself but they all stop and turn, thinking she’s got more news. “Robin, can you come with me for a walk? I need to calm down and I can’t go alone.” 

“Y-yeah, absolutely,” she doesn’t even think twice, she just takes Nancy’s hand. 

“Don’t go off too far,” Steve interjects, “take a walkie.” 

“On our walkie,” Robin teases, knowing Steve just wants to keep them safe. She even manages to make Nancy smile a bit. “We’ll be fine.” 

Steve knows that but it’s still hard to let her go knowing anything could happen to either of them. “I know,” he gives them a small smile and a nod as they leave, heading over to Max’s with the other kids. Leaving Dustin with Steve and Eddie. 

“Are you okay?” Dustin asks, finally noticing all the blood on Steve and the fact he’s in Eddie’s vest. 

He nods, “yeah I just—

“We need to get him some clean clothes,” Eddie interjects. “You go watch Max, you can be in charge until Nancy gets back.” 

“Yes!” Dustin cheers, Eddie knew exactly how to get him to leave without asking any questions. “I’ll come get you if we need anything.” 

“Sounds good,” Eddie holds the door open for him and pats his back on his way out. He shuts the door once he’s gone and turns to Steve with a smile, “and then there were two…” 

“I’m in no condition to be seduced,” Steve teases, moving over to the counter to lean against it, he’s getting tired. 

Eddie walks over and cups Steve’s face with his hand, staring into his eyes, “I know, sweetheart, so let’s get you cleaned up.” 

—

Eddie's quick to start rummaging around in all the drawers in the hallway, he talks to himself while he does it and eventually pulls out a white box, “found ya, sucker.” 

He cracks the box open and starts heading to his room, Steve watches and follows carefully, “what’re you doing?” 

“Wayne used to hide the first aid kit from me cause I wasted all the supplies once trying to make my own special effects face wounds with the gauze… that’s another story, anyway, I have a bunch of shit in here if you want to get cleaned up?” He suggests, holding up some antibacterial spray and some big bandaids. 

He crosses his arms and smirks, overflowing with what could only be described as love. “You wanna take care of me?” 

“Yeah, Harrington. Sue me,” he tosses the gauze onto the bed, which is now just a boxspring covered in his comforter and pillows. “But, before I can do that, we’ve gotta wash all that blood off of you.” 

Steve sighs and looks down at his chest, this was going to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch but he knew Eddie was right. “okay…” 

“Right in here,” Eddie places a hand on his arm and leads him into the bathroom. “You can shower or I can just run a towel over you?” 

“If I shower and then have to get back into these clothes I’m going to freak out,” Steve admits. 

“I was going to let you borrow— well, actually I don’t need anything back, you can wear whatever you want from my room,” Eddie explains, riffling through the linen closet for some facecloths that Wayne wouldn’t mind ruining with blood and bat guts. “It’s not like I’m coming back here anyway.” 

“Hey,” Steve reaches out and pulls his attention back to him. “Don’t say that.” 

“I’m just being realistic.”

“I’m not losing you,” Steve puts his foot down. “Not to jail, not to Jason and his goons, not to Vecna or-or these fuckin’ bats,” he references down to his injuries. “You’re not going anywhere except to dinner with me when this is over and done with. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Eddie manages to smile. “Now would you take my vest off so I can wipe you down? I cant have you dying from an infection before our date.” 

“Okay,” he starts to push it off his shoulders and realizes just how much it hurts to lift his arms and stretch out his chest. “Ouch, fuck?” 

“Sorry,” Eddie apologizes on behalf of Steve's wounds and takes the jacket as soon as it’s off of him. “Turn around?” 

“Yeah,” Steve does as he’s told, slowly but surely. 

Eddie looks at the knot that Nancy tied in the fabric, it’s tight as can be, and his meaty fingers aren’t getting that knot out. “Stay here, I’m going to go get the scissors.”

“Okay,” Steve didn’t mind, he simply takes a hold of the edge of the sink to steady himself and waits. Eddie runs out, Steve can hear him tossing cutlery around in the drawer in the kitchen and then his heavy feet running back to him. 

“Okay, here we go…” he has to hype himself up for this part. He really didn’t want to see how much of Steve was missing under this fabric. 

Steve hisses as the fabric tugs on his skin where it’s been fused by dried blood, Eddie apologizes again and again as he takes it off slowly, making Steve turn around to face him again in the process. “Jesus,” Eddie says under his breath once he takes a good look at the damage. 

“Hot, I know,” Steve teases, giving him a smile before he too looks at it in the mirror. He catches Eddie looking at him in the mirror too, then their eyes meet in the reflection, making them smile slightly. “It’ll be okay… at least it’s not another head trauma.” 

“Yeah, you seem to get your ass beat a lot…” Eddie doesn’t mean it as a dig or an insult, “I mean, that’s gotta affect you somehow?” 

He nods, “headaches mostly, and this ear rings a lot,” he points to the left one. “But it’s liveable.” 

“So, when we get supplies later we should add a helmet to the list, got it,” Eddie teases again and Steve shoves him. 

Steve watches him giggle through the mirror, Eddie picks up one of the face cloths and turns the water on. He plays around with the taps until it’s a good temperature and he wets the towel. “Do you want to sit?” 

“Where?” Steve gestures to the counter or the toilet. 

“The counter would be better,” Eddie thinks, “here, I’ll help—

Steve doesn’t need help, he grips the counter with both hands and stands on his tip toes so that his ass cheek is taller than the counter and he scoots himself back until he’s secure. “There,” he spreads his legs and tugs Eddie between them so they’re closer. 

“Showoff,” Eddie teases him, he wrings the excess water out of the face cloth and brings it over to Steve’s chest. 

“You probably shouldn’t wring it out,” Steve micro-manages him. “You’re going to scrub my skin off if you don’t let the water soak the grime off.” 

“Right,” he doesn’t argue, he simply re-wets it, “get ready…” he says as he brings it over to his chest, water droplets falling onto Steve’s pants and he hisses as it spreads down his stomach, “sorry, sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing,” he says through gritted teeth. “It’s fine, it has to happen.” 

“Yeah, well I still feel bad,” he all but whispers, watching the water turn red as it rushes down his chest. 

He’s so close to the wounds he has no choice but to look and he hates it. It’s not that it’s gross(it is) it’s the fact that it’s Steve and in Eddie’s mind, Steve isn’t just Steve anymore… Steve watches his face carefully, in complete silence while Eddie washes the blood and grime off of him. Eddies face is so concentrated, he bites his tongue and breathes through his nose, he tries to shake his bangs out of his face as he leans in closer to Steve, hunched forward, and they keep falling into his eyes. 

Steve just reaches out and runs his fingers through Eddie’s hair, pushing his bangs back for him. It draws Eddie’s attention back up to his eyes, he looks shocked, “sorry,” Steve whispers. “You just—

“It’s okay,” Eddie gives him a sweet smile. “No one really touches my hair…”

“Me either,” Steve knows what thats like, a bit too well. Out of everything in his life, his hair was the one thing he could control perfectly. Eddie probably felt similarly. It’s something he grew, something he takes care of, something that makes him, him. He’s so perfectly Eddie with this hair. “You’re pretty, you know that?” 

The smirk that grows on Eddie’s face is beautiful, his eyes glisten in the soft yellow light of his trailer bathroom and he’s quiet. There isn’t a snarky reply, he doesn’t tell him to shut up or draw his attention to something else. He just smiles and takes it all in. 

“I mean it,” Steve says for good measure. “Before Robin even suggested that it could be you, I already thought you were too pretty for your own good… it’s why I was so short with you, looking at you was so hard, I just want to tell you all the time that you’re so fuckin' pretty.” 

“You’re going to give me a big head, Steve,” Eddie can’t take him seriously anymore, it was too much affection for him to handle. “Then again, you do give good head.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t play dumb,” Eddie teases him, still wiping down his chest and now avoiding his eye contact. “You like pretty much sucked the soul out of me back there, I haven’t been the same since… haven’t even tried getting laid since, I’m like hypnotized by you, Harrington.” 

“Back to Harrington,” he sighs and leans back against the mirror so Eddie can get at the lower bites on his stomach. “Got it.” 

“Don’t do that,” Eddie picks up on it too. “It’s an endearing Harrington, okay? I need more than 4 days with you to make more nicknames than just Stevie and if I say that around the kids they’re going to have a fucking field day with it.” 

“I guess,” Steve can see where he’s coming from. “Are you afraid of me?” 

“What?” He looks up into Steve’s eyes again, his big brown puppy dog eyes could break Steve’s heart if he looked at him the right way. “Why would I be scared of you? You’ve done nothing but try and protect me?” 

“I don’t know, it just seems like no matter what I do, no matter how open I get, you’re still so closed off? What do I have to do to get you to let me know if you like me back? I don’t want this to just be some end of the world I might as well flirt with him, shit, I want this to work if we live through this,” he’s honest about it. “I’ve done nothing but think about you— well, the you from the woods— for almost an entire year.” 

“That’s not me, anymore,” he whispers. “You know that. We’re different now. Things are a lot different. And if I don’t make it I want you to be normal and not get hung up on me, get back with na—

“I swear the next person to say I should date Nancy again is getting punched,” Steve cuts him off. “I’d rather saw off my arms than date Nancy again.” 

“Then why did you lose it back there,” Eddie points out to his living room. “You can’t tell me that you don’t love Nancy and then react like that. You were distraught dude, don’t lie to me. You still care for her. You still love her.” 

“How would you feel if your friend, not the drummer the other one… Jer—” 

“Jeff.”

“Yeah, how would you feel if Jeff was getting Vecna’d right in front of your eyes? You said Gareth is your best friend, but would you still react with love if Jeff was in trouble?” Steve asks, really getting him to think about it. 

He nods, realizing he’s been over thinking it. “It’s just, you see, Nancy’s pretty and she’s not wanted for murder and—

“And she doesn’t love me. She never really did and she’s happy with Jonathan,” he can’t help but cut Eddie off. “I know Nancy better than anyone here because we dated— if you can even call it dating, but I took her on a few dates, I slept with her the night her best friend in the world died and then I over-reacted when she started spending time with Jonathan, not knowing she was hunting the thing that got Barb for revenge… and then I lost her before I even had her.”

“Oh,” Eddie can’t believe he’s getting the full story like this. 

“And if I’m being really honest with you, I’m not even sure if the love I had for her was real. I can’t hold it against her for pretending anymore when I genuinely don’t remember being in love with her. It was so long ago. But sure, I love her, she’s my friend and she’s Mike's older sister and she’s buddy-buddy with Robin now and I can’t let her die while Jonathan isn’t here! He’s kicked my ass once already, I don’t need more brain damage because I failed to protect someone we all care about. The same way I’d protect Robin or Max and especially… you.” 

Eddie’s never seen Steve talk so passionately. It’s like he took a page out of Buckley's book and paired it with his freakish ability to hold his breath for a long time, resulting in that ramble of truth. He didn’t even know what to say to it, at least he thought he didn’t and then he asks the simplest question. “Why?” 

“Which part?” Steve manages to smile, “the not sure about loving Nancy bit or the falling in love with you bit?” 

Eddie’s eyes do that thing where they get impossibly big and he leans forward, feeling like he imagined it. “What?” 

“I kinda figured since you love me and all, I could say it to you.” 

“Backup, backup,” he waves his hands around in front of himself with his eyes closed for a moment, taking it all in. “When did I say I love you?” 

“You didn’t have to, you just jumped in after me.” 

“Not right away and I definitely didn’t want to?” He freaks out, feeling like he’s been caught and he needs to defend himself. 

“I didn’t want to help Nancy and Jonathan the first time. But I did because I loved her,” he explains with a growing smirk. “I figured you out so easily because I did the exact same thing before.”

“You ran?” Eddie can’t believe it. Badass Steve was actually… kind of normal dude. 

“I showed up to apologize to Jonathan for calling him and his brother queer… yeah I know it was a shitty thing to do given who I am and all, but, after he kicked the shit out of me, I had time to reflect and realized, like, nope, it’s just me who’s queer and what I said was super fucked up… So I went to apologize but imagine my surprise when Jonathan opens the door and he was bleeding from his hand and the whole house smells like gasoline and there is a bear trap in the hallway and a Demogorgon on the way,” Steve honestly can’t believe its a real memory and not a dream he’s retelling. 

“But it was too late, they dragged me down the hall into Will’s room and we waited for the thing to attack but it got distracted? It disappeared again and I took the first chance I had to get the fuck out of there.” 

“I mean, it’s not like they needed you,” Eddie teases, bringing a smile to Steve’s face. 

“I know, but that’s not the point, is it?” Steve points it back on him. He did the same fuckin thing earlier. Nancy and robin probably had it covered and he went anyway. “Nancy Wheeler, given any partner, is fantastic at defending this town. That’s a fact I know for sure.” 

Eddie drops the washcloth in the sink and gives in, he places his hands on Steve’s thighs and looks up into his eyes, “what else do you know?” 

“I know I went back into that house not because I didn’t think she could do it, but because if Jonathan died and Nancy lost him and Barb, and Joyce lost him and Will… I couldn’t live with myself. I went back in because I loved Nancy and I would’ve thrown myself in front of the thing if need be to make sure they were the ones who got out of it okay.” 

“It was a suicide mission?” Eddie softens, putting all the clues together. 

He nods, “I loved her, I hated myself and who I was becoming and it wasn’t changing. Even if I dropped Tommy and Carole, even if I somehow got away from my parent's influence… I never thought I’d get to a point in my life where I could be myself and like myself at the same time. I was ready to die in there for her.” 

“But you didn’t,” Eddie is thankful beyond belief.

“Yeah, but surviving wasn’t any better. The government sat us all down and said we could never speak about it, we were in danger from the Russians if we did talk about it—

“Yeah right—

“No, they were serious but that’s later,” Steve is serious and Eddie can tell. “Nancy and I were told it was best to act as normal as possible and that we’d never get in trouble for being underage and drinking the night barb went missing and while I was super thankful my parents wouldn’t find out, Nancy was pissed that nothing was being done as justice for Barb… I processed it all by pretending it didn’t happen and she couldn’t because she didn’t get closure. Not like Joyce, Joyce got her son back and Nancy was stuck with me and nothing else.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie reaches up to cup Steve’s cheek, “you didn’t look happy that year… I remember she’d sit in the parking lot with Jonathan and you’d always just play basketball in the gym or run track the whole break.” 

He nods, “I always passed you on your way for a smoke.”

Eddie gives him a sweet smile, “you’re the only jock that would pass me without saying something snarky.” 

“I never saw you leave a fight with a black eye,” Steve admits. “I was still yet to win a fight of my own at that point.” 

“I would never hurt you,” Eddie whispers and Steve knows that to be true. It’s why he can open up to him so easily. 

“I didn’t feel worthy of love for a long time,” he whispers back. “Nancy helped, she told me and I believed her but… I knew it wasn’t real. I knew we weren’t having sex cause she remembered how Barb died every time we tried and she didn’t sleep over at my house ever cause it feels haunted to her and the more I tried to be normal the more it made her wish she wasn’t with me. We were both pretending but for vastly different reasons. She didn’t want to get in trouble and I didn’t want to accept the fact that once she left, I was going to be lonely.” 

“Didn’t you already have Dustin then?” Eddie asks, knowing how much Dustin loves him. 

He shakes his head, “no, actually, I was on my way to her place to ask her to take me back after we broke up when I ran into Dustin and he needed help with something from the upside down that ate his cat.” 

Eddies eyes grow wide, “his cat?” 

He nods, “yeah it was one of those demo-dog things I was telling you about, they have the same mouths as the bats but they act like wolves.” 

“Holy fuck?” 

Steve just nods, “it’s been insane and thats just he starts of the second year… last summer we found out that the Russians were in Hawkins under the mall and I went down there with Robin, Dustin and Erika… we barely made it out alive and then we still had to fight the thing from the upside down that came out of the gate that the stupid fucking Russians opened up.” 

Eddie can tell he’s the most traumatized by it so he runs his hands down Steve’s shoulders and shushes him softly, “you’re here now though, we’re working all together on this one. It’s not just Nancy, it’s not just you and the kids. It’s all of us. We can do it.” 

Steve leans forward and kisses him again. He can’t help himself. He has to kiss Eddie as much as humanly possible before they can’t anymore because if he knows one thing from all of this, it’s that the people you love can be taken from you in the blink of an eye. Barb. Bob. Billy… Hopper. They’re all gone and everyone who loved them is devastated now. 

He doesn’t want to know what it feels like to lose Eddie. Thats a devastation that he’d never recover from. 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @wroteclassicaly @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual 

Steddie

@nosaladallowed-ao3  @wifeyreid @girl-with-an-orange-cat @sunshinemunchkin @luna-munson83 @manda-panda-monium @steve-thehair-mamabear 

@knightoftheieves @swimmingbirdrunningrock @throwbackthrowaway 

[dollarbin]

Nickel Bin #2:

The Roches' Hammond Song

Some songs have no peers.

There's nothing comparable to Dylan's Like a Rolling Stone: while his efforts to write another anthem are many, and they vary from the successful (Knocking on Heaven's Door) to the underappreciated (Changing of the Guard) to the overrated (Gotta Serve Somebody) to the annoying unless you are in a very weird mood (Brownsville Girl), he, and everybody else, has never come close to a comparable synergy of warmth, anger and energy.

I think The Roches' Hammond Song is equally unique. Suzzy, Terre and Maggie Roche never climbed a musical mountain like it again in their fitful, joyful and far too short career together, and I don't know any other song or group that presents such bizarre and daring vocals (they range from startlingly androgynous to winningly effete and back again); where else can you hear three such utterly distinct voices sharing a space with such elegance? Add to that mix the unique layers afforded by the song's length and its guitar solos, plus its confusing but vital story, and you've got yourself a masterpiece.

Let's listen.

First of all they're not singing about Heaven. They're singing about Hammond, Louisiana and Maggie and Terre's decision, years earlier, to ditch their budding music career altogether. It seems there was a Kung Fu school (seriously!) in Hammond that a friend was running and that seemed like a better place to be than in New York City, wearing clothes assigned to them by their record company.

The song is a natural cousin to Cat Stevens' Father and Son: In Hammond Song The Roches present a musical debate between the patriarchs in their life and themselves; they sing both sides of the argument and they let you choose the winner.

The song opens with a long, suspenseful opening that gives way to warm strumming and then the refrain's three part harmony. But then it swerves for the first wild time into Maggie Roche alone, and she's telling the band they're "on the wrong track". What other voice is like hers? I'm afraid my sexist biases hear her unique contralto and summon up a woman on a motorcycle with arms the size of my thighs who smokes six packs a day and would happily kick my ass while having yet another. But here she is:

Maggie died 6 or 7 years ago. My famous brother's friend Ryan, who recently bought me a very delicious beer at a Yo La Tengo show, sobbed when he heard the news. The more time I spend listening to Maggie's music, the more I understand where he was coming from. Just take a listen to Quitting Time from the same record:

At the end of each section of Hammond Song The Roches hit and hold a high, odd and transfixing note. You can hear it for the first time on the Ooooo after the first section, soon after Maggie's introduces her voice. That same note, or one close to it anyway, comes back again before the first guitar solo on "you're LYYYYYYing to me", then again on "don't be a FOOOOL."

When CS&N reach for a note like that I wonder just what the hell I'm doing with my life. When Linda Ronstadt, Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris finally threw off the concerns of their record companies in the mid-80's and came together as a bluegrass version of The Roches they hit some angelic notes, yes, but they never sounded weird. Such weirdness is a big part of Hammond Song's, and the band's, genius.

And capturing that weirdness, and that note, is still a goal for a new bands. Check out Meg Baird search for and then find it - and then keep it for an impossible, audacious length, at 3:15 mark of Heron Oblivion's seismic Your Hollows:

Next time I get an hour with Baird in a bar I'll ask her about Hammond Song as a basis for Your Hollows instead of quizzing her on Mike Heron. Poor Meg. I suppose she's been warned.

And now that you have Heron Oblivion in your ears, let's talk about Hammond Song's guitar solos. That's Robert Fripp, of King Crimson/Eno/Bowie/Talking Heads fame, making himself known. He walks a careful and skillful line in his production of the song and the record around it: you never forget he's there but he never gets in the way. This is the sisters' record and the sisters' song. But wow, what a guitar sound he achieves: it's nearly as weird as the vocals, part theremin, part Hendrix, all magic.

Finally, Hammond Song avoids easy cliche in its storytelling as well. Okay, their male authorities wanted them to put on sexy dresses and stop being weird, but the girls said no and became their awesome selves instead:

Lesser artists would have wrapped the story up with victory. But Maggie and her sisters know it's not that simple. When they released Hammond Song their story was far from over: the record could have tanked; it could have proved the record company right.

And so The Roches bring us into the debate; they let us decide whether their defiance in life and in the song are justified. "Tell me," they appeal to us in the song's conclusion, "I'm okay."

Dear Suzzy, Terre and Maggie,

You are not okay. You are the best.

Sincerely,

The Nickel Bin