#was good but all together it just wasn't All That because yeah.
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Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it 😫😭
summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward – but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship?
w/c: 3.3k
note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy… basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance
also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them 😮💨😖
It’s almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed.
He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now you’ll be coming out of the door.
And just as a slew of students’ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly – Joy, maybe? – before you look to the other side and finally see him.
“Jungkook!” You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. “Sorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?” He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face.
Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you don’t fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back.
He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.
Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like it’s normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.
“You really did cut your hair.” You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he can’t help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears.
“I sent you a picture.” He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actor’s haircut… and look, it’s not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bit…
Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice.
And you tell him so. “I like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!” You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. “I was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I wasn't, and uh, thank you.”
“You're welcome. Anyway,” you say, “Did you wait for long earlier? Sorry ‘bout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit ‘cause there were a lot of questions about our new project.”
“You have a new project?”
“Yeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and it’s a paired task thing, that’s why you saw me with Joy earlier—”
He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him.
You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. “Sorry.” you say with a jutted lip and a little frown.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you don’t watch your surroundings, he’ll just do it for you. He doesn’t mind.
You grin. “Anyway… I was saying, it’s a hotel interior. But! The thing is, it’s a themed hotel, which I’m really excited about ‘cause I’m tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.”
Jungkook nods. “I think so too. What’s the themed hotel about?”
“Have you heard of a film called Metropolis?” He shakes his head. You nod at that. “Well, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and it’s a silent film from the ‘20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic – at least for that time. So that’s the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.”
Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the terms he doesn’t understand because you always take time to explain it to him in layman’s. It’s funny, really, because ever since he’s learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.
Maybe it’s because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and there’s always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkook’s at peace with himself now that he’s just one of those people.
He’s willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You don’t exactly make it hard to.
And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isn’t… so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because you’re obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.
A lot of people would say he’s making up for all the times he’s ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldn’t go back to the life where you weren’t within his perimeter. Couldn’t imagine you both being back to – practically – regular strangers, so he just… opened up to you more.
He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align.
And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior – but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you.
Because frankly, he’s starting to feel like it's a little more than that.
He’s not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because he’s trying to make up for the past – he’s doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you… with you… to you… and just… just more.
He wants more with you.
And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings.
Because he knows he’s been stupid all this time not to realize right away that he’s got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy – it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldn’t comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.
But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until he’s sure of what you truly think about.
You’re always nice to him. But you’re kind of nice to everybody… so that gets him a little twisted.
On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out – when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.
He just can’t tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and that’s what’s been on his mind lately.
“Oh, Kookie,” you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that – but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, “I can’t go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.”
“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Rain check?”
You pout. “Yeah.”
“You can do it at my place? Hoseok’s doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he won’t be there ‘til the morning.”
“But I didn’t bring my laptop today.”
With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. “It’s alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,” he smiles. “Sleepover?”
Jungkook doesn’t want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.
“I want to, but I don’t want to impose.” You say.
Instantly, Jungkook’s forehead creases. “You won’t be imposing.” When he sees that you’re about to decline again, he lets out a, “Please?”
At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment.
“Uh…” you trail off. “You sure? Are you not busy tonight?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busy–” you nudge his arm at that, laughing. “– but other than that, no. I’ll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?”
“I’d really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.” You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?
“I think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.” Jungkook says before you’re muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted “thank you” when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you.
He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he can’t help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if you’re so used to being in his car – which you are.
And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him.
“You’re done?” Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well.
“Yep.”
“Then come here already.” He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him.
It’s nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkook’s shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. You’ve both already showered – separately, of course – and that’s one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet.
“‘M so tired” You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkook’s abdomen.
“Meeting went well?” Jungkook asks, and he’s a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but that’s okay, because soon you’re leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt.
“Yeah, we got some work done,” You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. “I think I’m sleepy now.”
“Yeah?” He follows after you, and he doesn’t hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. “My first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.”
“I have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.”
“Tough.”
“I know… I wish I didn’t enlist in morning classes.”
He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesn’t want to give into that just yet.
“You were with Jae on Monday?” He asks, carefully treading through the subject. It’s Thursday now. It's not like Jungkook’s a jealous guy… it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didn’t tell him you were with Jae.
“Uh… yeah?” Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. “How’d you know?”
“Taehyung told me.”
“Oh.” He can practically hear the wince. “He has such a big mouth.” You say drily.
That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory. It’s soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your – his – shirt riding up.
Your answer takes awhile.
“I was… getting help with estimates.”
“... Okay,” Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. “But I’m really good with estimates. I could’ve helped you.” It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before… why now?
“Well, he offered.”
Jungkook’s brows crease deeper. “That’s not…" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jae’s not even on the dean's list. How’d you know he’s teaching you the right stuff?”
Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.
“He’s not even on the dean’s list?” You sound intrigued.
Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. “He isn’t. Look, I’m not saying–” when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes you’re just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole.”
You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether you’re wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not.
You shake your head. “Not really. I believe you’re way smarter than him.”
“Then why come to him and not me?”
You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. “I just feel like you’re doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Monday– don’t deny it–” you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. “– and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck.
“Ah… okay. I understand.” he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system.
You smile at him. Playfully. “Sorry for asking help from someone who’s not on the dean’s list.” Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesn’t bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, “Sorry, sorry. That was just so funny. You’re so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?”
“Not really.” Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.
What he doesn’t expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest.
“You’re so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?” You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle.
Jungkook meets your gaze.
Sure, you’ve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months – but they never went to this length. And he’s not sure what the difference is, anyway – just that you’re much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesn’t deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even want you to move.
“Alright.” Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.
“I’ll sleep now, okay?” But you don’t wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.
Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didn’t want him touching you or something like that – but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well.
“The Jae thing really bothered you?” You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position you’ve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.
Jungkook hums. “Yes.”
“Sorry for not telling you myself.”
“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and there’s not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. He’s never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. “Are you not gonna ask why I was bothered?” He says after a beat.
“I was gonna. But I think I know.” You answer, and Jungkook doesn’t expect that one bit.
He stops his ministrations on your hair, and it’s obvious that you’re about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again.
When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question he’s been mulling about for the past two months.
“__, what are we?”
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Captain’s Girl [Part II]
John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)
Synopsis: Mixed tension combined with a failed mission leads to a heated kiss between you and the Captain. But what happens when kissing turns into something more? And will a new mission back in Urzikstan be the catalyst to bring you together or tear you and your captain apart?
Tags: Enemies to lovers, SMUT, guys I'm not joking I went crazy with the smut, military romance, secret feelings, pining, idiots in love, fighting, secret relationships, consequences, LONG.
Word count? Do you even need to ask?
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
The helicopter ride back was abysmal, a whole 3 hours spent in absolute silence. You'd spent the majority of the time staring at your fraying shoelace. The subtle rocking of the aircraft kept you awake while everyone else slept off the rough morning (and the hangover). It turns out that drinking the night before being dispatched wasn't the best idea. Shocking.
It didn't help that your mind was still hung up on the kiss between you and Price. Also shocking.
In the past 24 hours, you discovered that there was a widespread rumor that you and your captain had been sleeping together. Everyone on base had started calling you the Captain’s Girl. And that Price didn't apparently hate you and thought that planting one on you was the best way to prove that.
Why he kissed you was an entirely new can of worms you didn't have the stomach to open right now.
Now, did you kiss him back? Yes. Why? You didn't know the fuck why. There were several possible answers to this dilemma, answer one, it was the heat of the moment. Answer two, it just felt right to do so, it's rude to leave a guy hanging. Answer three, you were just too shit-faced to think critically about it. You were leaning toward the last one.
The worst part of the whole situation, (besides the fact that you may have given those rumors a tiny bit of validity) was that Price was a phenomenal kisser. You remembered it in excruciating detail. And unlucky for you it might have been one of the best kisses you'd ever had.
A small part of you wondered if he enjoyed it too, but given his face when you separated. All flushed and surprised, his eyes wide with horror and his breath heavy… yeah maybe it was best not to dwell on your kissing abilities.
It was a small blessing that Gaz had been the one to almost catch you in the act. He loved to tease but he wasn't an asshole, your and Price's secret was most likely in good hands. Heaven forbid it was Ghost or Soap because you would've had half a mind to jump out of the helicopter without a second thought. The thought was still tempting though.
You glanced up at Price, his head tilted back and his eyes shut. He wasn't faring much better than you were. He had heavy bags under his eyes and the line between his brows was far more defined than usual. Somehow he still looked good. In a very professional way, of course. Not in a ‘we made out last night, and thinking about it turns me on,’ kind of way.
Eventually, you would have to interact with him professionally again. When his foot healed it would be back to regularly scheduled training.
Best case scenario, they'd put you all on leave and you could have a week or two surrounding yourself with other men to clear your head. You'd never really been one for an extended vacation, but exceptions could be made. Plus, going back to base meant going back to a whole bunch of people who thought you were bangin’ the boss.
You grimaced, vacationing in hell might have been better. On second thought, you'd take the checkpoint base any day. Home base could go fuck itself, at least it was hot and sunny back in Urzikstan. You heard someone chuckle and looked up to see Ghost looking at you.
“Ya’ look like you swallowed a lemon.” He said enthused. You made a sound that crossed between a sigh and a grunt.
“Just preparing myself for landing,” You breathed as the helicopter wobbled. The aircraft began to descend in a linear motion, making your stomach sink a little.
“Home sweet home.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
One week and three days, you had been back at base for almost two weeks without speaking a single word to Price. Maybe if you kept this up you could spend your last 8 months with 141 in peace.
Your days now had been mostly consisting of training (supervised by Ghost instead of Price), mindless tasks, eating in the commons, watching movies in the break room, and naps. It was kind of perfect, this was probably the most relaxed you'd ever been while at base. And nobody bothered to tease you over Price since he was rarely around. When he did make an appearance he didn't speak a word to you, which was somewhat nice.
A part of you wished for some explanation for the night of the kiss, but maybe ignorance was bliss. Whatever the reason, it was all behind you. You could totally remain professional when he comes back from recovery. Totally.
Gaz tried to talk to you about that night once, to which you immediately shut him down. Though, you knew he saw through you, and Price too, it was probably easier reading Price than you at this point. It was odd for Price to seclude himself away, even odder that he wasn't on speaking terms with you conveniently after the night that you tracked him down and blew up at him for starting a rumor that he most definitely did not create. Ghost had caught onto the odd tension between you two almost as fast as Gaz did.
Jhonny well… he was still in his own world, the man was smart sure, but he was a bit of a dunce when it came to reading other people's emotions. On the bright side that made him the perfect buddy to be around because he wasn't analyzing every interaction you had. You were grateful for him in his own way.
You were walking down one of the hallways after a bit of a loose end. Having nothing to do after training was a pain sometimes, you had an hour or two until dinner, and the base gym was at its busiest. And you didn't feel like you were in the mood to wait twenty minutes in a sweaty gym for a turn on the leg press machine. So, you opted for wandering around like a lost spirit in search of something to do instead.
Just as you turned a corner you collided with what felt like another wall. Your eyes met a 4x4 truck with a skull mask. Ghost.
“Easy, aren't sharpshooters supposed to be vigilant? Or are you the only exception?” His voice reverberated off your eardrums like a low-pitch bass. You rolled your eyes but let out an amused breath of air. To give the big guy some credit his name fits him perfectly, you didn't know how someone who was built like a standard Lego brick could be so stealthy. He could fit into any dark corner and nobody would be the wiser.
“Just you Ghost, you seem to be the only entity that evades me.” That seemed to pull a junction of his lips up because the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled. He held a small file filled with a few articles of paper tucked away into its folds.
Ghost crossed his arms, “What ya’ doin’? Have you taken up wandering hallways as a hobby now?”
You grimaced, “Gym was all full, didn't want to bother.” You said plainly, earning a nod from the bigger man.
“So… suppose that means you're free for time?” There was a slight smugness to his tone as he held the file up to you. Your gaze dropped from him to the file, he didn't phrase it like an order but you knew it was. You sighed and took the file from his hand. “Fine. Who do I have to track down to give this to?”
He shifted on one foot, “Price. You know where his office is.” You tried not to let your mouth fall open, this bastard.
You shook your head and tried to thrust the papers back into his chest, “What? No, I'm not giving these to Price. Can't you find someone else?”
Ghost stepped back and shook his head, raising his hands up in surrender. “Nope, s’outta my hands now. It’s one file, just knock on his door and drop it on his desk, easy.” You shot him a spiteful glare, there was probably an evil grin under that stupid mask.
You squeezed the file in your hands tighter, feeling the paper wrinkle in your vice grip. “Bastard.” You grimaced, turning on your heel towards the direction of Price's office. You heard him chuckle over your shoulder, “Good soldier.” He called after you, the shit-eating grin practically spotlighted through his tone.
Trudging through the familiar hallways toward Price's office was like walking through a dead-end alleyway. The further you got, the more signs you saw telling you to turn back. Sure you saw him after the night of the kiss, but you weren't being forced to talk to him or even acknowledge he was there. This was different, you would be alone with him. Alone in his office. Even if it was for a split second that you were in his presence the knowledge still made your skin pebble with goosebumps.
Before you knew it, you were facing the dreaded door of his office. The sight of the familiar plaque of his name gives you an almost Deja Vu feeling. The last time you were here things didn't go over too well, not that things ever really went great when the two of you came in contact.
You drew in a breath, just get this over with and you could be done. Maybe go take a shower or something, just go anywhere that was a good distance away from here. Your fist met the hardwood of the door, giving it a hearty few knocks. After a beat, his muffled voice reached your ears, “Come in.”
Pushing open the door you were greeted with the sight of Price. Doing pushups in the corner of his office. Okay, I guess. You were a little dumbfounded, usually one uses an office for things like paperwork or meetings. Not a personal gym. “I thought the point of recovering was that you're supposed to be resting.” You deadpanned. The file in your hands long forgotten.
His head immediately snapped up at the sound of your voice, pools of blue staring right into you like you'd walked in naked. Price halted mid-pushup, “[Name].” He breathed, obviously caught a little off guard by your appearance.
“Unfortunately,” You said back, watching as he got up and brushed himself off. The cotton of his shirt stretched over the expanse of his biceps and chest. Your eyes shot back to his face, a little guilty. Price cleared his throat, “They won't let me train in the gym yet. So, I have to improvise.”
You blinked at him, “Base doctor must love you.” You said sarcastically, glancing down at his foot. “How's your foot?” You asked politely, filling the awkward silence.
Price looked down at his wrapped foot, shrugging. “It's better. Don't need the crutch anymore.” He said plainly. You responded with a nod and an ‘ah,’ creating an even longer awkward silence. The two of you stood there for another beat, just looking at each other. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to run to him or run away from him. Just then you remembered the whole reason why you were here.
“Oh- uh, I have this for you-“ You held out the manilla file for him to take, “Ghost told me to bring it up here.” Price's eyes darted from the folder and then back to you, he hesitantly walked closer and took the file. His fingers brushed yours and you swear an electric current shot through your spine. His fingers were warm and rough, transporting you back to when his hands were in your hair, holding your face, cupping the back of your neck.
You swallowed, it felt like your heartbeat was in your head. “Thank you.” He said, pulling back his hand and the papers with it.
It was like someone had knocked the wind out of you, you were frozen. “…Right, I'll go then.” You said, taking a step back from him as he put the file on top of his desk.
“[Name]. Hold on, please.” His voice stopped you in your tracks, making you rotate a little to face him completely. His voice didn't sound angry, but it was firm. “Everything alright?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, watching as he faced you. Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.
His adams apple bobbed up and down, lifting a hand to rub his mutton chops. “Yeah…I just wanted to clear up something with you.” His voice was careful, the pauses and hesitance filling you with dread. Shit. He wanted to talk about the kiss, which you most definitely did not want to talk about. A part of you was dying inside but you nodded, “Yeah, what's up?” You said through clenched teeth.
“About what happened the night before the team left Urzikstan, I just wanted to… apologize. It was unprofessional of me especially considering the circumstances.” You stood statue still, well this was a first. He was apologizing to you. Price continued, “It was a moment of weakness and emotions were running high and frankly I didn't know how else to show you I didn't hate you. I give you my word that it will never happen again.”
A moment of weakness? What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It was nice to hear an apology come from him but to be honest, you weren't sure if you were happy about the fact he was sorry. Maybe that meant he didn't enjoy it, but it certainly didn't seem like it when his tongue was down your throat. Well, if you were already on the subject mind as well ask.
“Did you hate it?” You asked, Price looked at you for a moment. His face was puzzled like it was the last thing he had expected to come out of your mouth. “What?” He asked, his voice thick behind his British accent.
You stood your ground, “The kiss-” you clarified. “Did. you. hate. it?” His eyes searched yours for an ounce of reasoning, “I- it was unprofessional and I shouldn't have initiated anything as your Captain-”
“That wasn't my question.” You cut him off, your eyebrows furrowed together as your gaze bore into him. “I asked if you hated kissing me.”
Price shifted, leaning back a little against his desk. It was silent for a while, the sound of the wall clock and your beating heart was the only noise you could hear. “No… I didn't hate it.” He said after another beat.
A small part of you soared, you could sleep at night knowing your kissing abilities weren't the cause of his skittishness. The next question slipped past your lips before you had the mind to stop yourself. “Do you regret it?”
Again his lips pulled into a frown and his eyes darted away, “[Name], I don't know why these questions are necessary.” But you weren't going to let him deflect you that easy, right now all thoughts of professionalism and integrity were out the window. You deserved an explanation, even if the logical side of your mind was telling you to leave. You stepped closer to him, so he couldn't ignore your presence.
“It's necessary because you kissed me out of nowhere and I deserve an explanation.” You said defiantly, “So do you or do you not regret it?”
He gave you an exasperated look before swallowing his pride. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer and thumb, he spoke, “I regret kissing you at that moment, and how I went about it. But I don't regret kissing you, no.”
Price’s cheeks turned a slightly rosy color that reached his ears. He looked like a guilty dog. You didn't know what surprised you more, the fact that he apologized or that he didn't regret kissing you. But his admission sparked a heat that crawled into your bones, burying into your stomach and coloring your cheeks similarly to his.
“Then just kiss me again.”
What came out of your mouth seemed to surprise you just as much as it did Price. He looked at you like you had grown a second head, “I'm sorry?” You felt your limbs lose feeling, fuck it, if you were going in mind as well go all in.
“I said what I said, if you regret how you went about kissing me last time…make it up now.” The silence that stretched over the two of you lasted for far longer than you were comfortable with. Price shook his head, seemingly coming back to reality. “[Name], I'm not kissing you.” He said pushing off the desk to stand at his full height.
You frowned, well shit. “Why not?” You said, trying not to let the surprise and annoyance bleed through your tone.
He looked at you incredulously, “Because we're in my fucking office and you're my subordinate.” Price said, gesturing around his office to further his argument. Jeez, you really hated this guy. He could at least throw you a bone after pulling a kiss on you out of nowhere.
“So? You kissed me out in the open at the checkpoint base- and I was your subordinate then too.” You knew that he knew you had a good point there, “If you don't want to kiss me or something you could've just said so.” You glared.
Price groaned and shook his head, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck. “No- I- fuck, of course I want to kiss you. But it's not appropriate, there are fraternization rules. Especially when it comes to me as your Captain.”
Aha! So he did want to kiss you, that at least was one more mystery solved. You craned your neck up to meet his eyes, your hands seizing his face. Cupping his scruffy cheeks between your palms. “Rules only apply if you get caught. And you owe me a better apology.” You told him sternly.
Price’s eyes were wide and his body tensed for a moment. Only to relax a moment later, the heat of his face could burn your skin. Your hands tingled as the pads of your fingers slid against the coarse scuff of his beard. His face hid something behind the mask of surprise, something that glinted in the pools of navy and grey. Everything about him looked so odd, so real.
Back at the checkpoint base, you didn't have time to look over his features or memorize them. You weren't able to watch the flicker in his eyes, something akin to a stalking wolf.
“One kiss.” Price breathed.
“One kiss.” You repeated back to him, trying not to let your voice quake.
That was all it took before his lips were slotted against yours, swallowing your breath and your mind with it. The kiss back at Urzikstan was rushed, desperate, quick. This. This was different. It was like a switch in your brain was flipped off, the mind-numbing static and the gentle rhythm of his lips replaced where your rational thought was supposed to be.
Large hands seized your waist, digging into your flesh. Slowly, the gentle probes of his mouth morphed into heavy kisses and heated groans. His mouth tasted the same as it did before, like smoke and whiskey. You doubted you'd ever forget the taste of him.
Your hands slid around his neck, and your dull nails dragged down his nape. Earning a throaty moan on his part, with each lick, groan, and movement of his lips, you only seemed to get sucked in further. Your senses were drowning in him, yet you only ached to go deeper. To let the water fill your lungs and cloud your brain.
Lips, tongue, teeth, you didn't know where it ended nor where it started. Hell, you didn't know what you were even doing. You didn't even realize you had moved until your behind hit the solid edge of his desk, making you retract for a sharp breath.
Price panted against your lips, still slick and kiss swollen. Neither of you did anything, standing still in the aftermath. The kiss said more than either of you could have ever put into words. Hands squeezed your hips, “On the desk.”
You blinked, only somewhat coherent, “What?” Price lightly pushed you further, the back of your body being pressed against the hardwood. “You heard me, sit on the desk.” His voice was rough and thick with his accent. It wasn't more of a request but a demand, and unlucky for you it made your knees weak.
Carefully you lifted yourself onto the flat surface, his body wedged between your open legs. The rough pads of his fingers grasping at your hips, and before you knew it you were kissing him again. It was addictive, he was addictive. This felt more like your fist kiss with him, the kisses became rougher, more rushed, and more desperate. Like trying to fill an endless void with his lips.
“I thought you said one kiss,” You managed to gasp out between open-mouthed kisses. You felt the pull of a smile on the corner of his lips before separating from you only to attach to your neck. Suckling at the skin and leaving trails of blooming redness in his wake.
“You said you wanted a better apology right?” Price said, his voice vibrating against your collar. The texture of his beard against your skin sending full-body shivers down your spine.
You nodded, your hands reaching to his back to fist the material of his shirt. “Yeah.” Your voice was breathy, it sounded almost foreign to you. Like you hadn't even spoken it. Hands dipped under your shirt, running up the soft skin of your ribs, mapping out your body. Price looked at you, something in his eyes was desperate, like a wild animal looking at their next meal.
“Then let me make it up to you. Please.” Fuck.
When had a man ever said that to you? And not any man but John fucking Price. A pulse drummed in your stomach that reached your core, here you were, sitting on your captain's desk with him in between your legs. Asking you to let him make it up to you. Really…who were you to refuse when he asked so nicely? You swallowed and nodded, “Okay.”
With your confirmation, Price lifted your shirt above your head, hastily tossing it somewhere on the floor. His hands making quick work of your bra with it, the offending garment joining your shirt on the floor. He stood there momentarily, taking in the new expanse of revealed skin. Price’s calloused hands glided over your abdomen, cupping your breasts and brushing a thumb over the hardened nipple.
You hissed, your spine curving at his touch. Price’s hands were hard and warm, a stark contrast to the plush mound of your chest. “Fuck, you're a vision you know that? So fucking pretty.” He breathed, his comments adding fuel to the fire between your legs. You couldn't remember the last time a man had called you anything near a ‘vision,’ but damn it felt good. It felt good to be wanted.
Your thighs squeezed together, blocked by his frame standing between them. Every movement he made caused your hips to brush, sending shocks up your spine. And shit could you feel him, he was a large man but the size of the tent brushing against your clothed core was downright ridiculous. No wonder his ego was so big, you absentmindedly thought.
A finger hooked one of the loops of your standard-issue pants. Price was looking at you, “Can I…?” He motioned down asking permission to discard the rest. To which you nodded, trying to hold back your eagerness. “Yeah go ahead.”
Price helped you out from your pants, letting them drop to the floor with a dull thud. He groaned as he caught eye of your underwear—a very embarrassing and very obvious wet spot coating the fabric. Fuck-you didn't realize that was there. You'd been so caught up in his hands you'd barely felt it. He shot you a knowing look, the corner of his lip twitched up.
“All this cause of me?” He asked smugly, circling a digit over the sodden fabric. You twitched, the contact making you bite down on your lip to keep from making a startled noise.
You glared at him, “Don’t fucking tease me.” You said, the embarrassment in your tone disguised as venom. He grinned, prick’ you thought. Price guided a finger over your clothed slit, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Never baby, just want to make things right with you.” He murmured into your skin.
Price tugged the fabric to the side, letting your slick lubricate his fingers. You shuddered, your hands holding onto him for dear life. “Fuck-” You choked out, your hips leaning into his hand. It felt infuriatingly good, the way his digit glided up and down your labia at a leisurely slow pace making you fein for more. He groaned as he watched you moan from the way he brushed his thumb over your clit.
“Atta girl, so good f’me.”
Oh.
You liked that. You'd never really paid attention to the gratification of someone praising you outside of an academic or professional level but at that moment you could tell that did something for you. And Price seemed to notice too.
He gently prodded at your entrance, earning a whine from your lips. “One finger or two?” He muttered, you could barely think let alone answer his question. What you did know was that you need more, “Two.” You said breathlessly.
A light chuckle reverberated off of him, “Greedy girl.” Price didn't wait and plunged two fingers into you slowly. You threw your head back as his thick digits stretched open the gummy walls of your core. “Fuck, look at you. So wet for me, so fucking sexy like this you know that?” You could only manage another choked whine as he mimicked the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers.
It was euphoric, the way he filled out your walls with his fingers alone. Slowly pressing the pads of his middle and ring up against the spongy spot inside you. You dug your nails into his shoulder, a silent scream fell from your lips. Price’s other hand holding the small of your back to support you. “Stay still,” He whispered into the shell of your ear, making you shudder.
You didn't listen, how could you? You could barely focus on what he was saying as it was, let alone when he was knuckle deep inside you.
When Price noticed you weren't listening he retracted his fingers, leaving you hollow. You whined, already craving the stretch of his fingers again. He rested his palm against your cunt, his digits barely tracing over your entrance. “Come on, I know you can listen, stay still for me yeah?” His voice vibrated against your neck and his beard brushed over the exposed skin. Making your body prickle with goosebumps.
“You're an asshole you know that?” You panted, going rigidly still. He smiled against you, his fingers plunging back into your wet heat. “And you're all bark and no bite, fuckin’ vixen. Always looking at me when you know you shouldn't, driving me insane all the time. Stubborn girl.”
You threw your head back, trying hard not to let your hips twitch or jerk. Your mouth fell open to let out a lustful moan that would've made anyone in the near vicinity blush.
Price continued, “You like driving me mad? Never fucking listening to me, arguing with me, riling me up.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in and out at a brutal pace. Making your cunt flutter, producing the most obscene sounds you ever heard from yourself. “Then you come in here all sexy asking me to kiss you. It's like you wanted this, wanted my fingers.”
You felt the burning fire in your core tighten and roar, “Price- slow down. M’gonna cum if you keep going.” You babbled, your nails leaving crescents on his bicep. Everything was happening so fast you couldn't keep track of what was going on.
Price’s fingers were rough, thick, they filled out the lining of your walls with ease. A thick fog started to cloud your mind, making the world almost blur. In. Out. In. Out. It was maddening, he wasn’t slowing and you were only growing more feverish.
He shook his head, his other hand leaving your hip to grab your chin. Forcing you to look into his eyes, an animalistic hunger written over his face. “No, you're going to cum on my fingers. Look at me while you do it, look at me while you soak my hand.” Price’s thumb circled over your clit, making you clench and pulse. A full-body shudder racking through you.
You came suddenly, unexpectedly. It was hard and fast, but in a way, it was like you were floating. Your muscles went rigid, your back curving, and your startled moan bounced off the walls of the office. It came in waves, crashing over you like the tide as he finger-fucked you through the orgasm. All the while staring directly into those familiar pools of blue and navy. Your pussy spasmed around his fingers.
After a minute you fell limp, like you'd just run miles, you panted. Hair falling in your face and wetness coating both his fingers and your inner thighs, the juices pooling onto the dark wood of the table. Price held your waist with one hand, letting you slump against his chest. It was peaceful bliss for a moment.
You caught your breath enough to sit up, meeting his gaze. His hand that held your waist moved to brush a few stray hairs falling over your eyes. The corners of Price’s lips pulled into a smile, and your heart stuttered, only a little though. “Have I made it up to you yet?” He murmured, the thickness of his voice could have melted your ears. Smooth like syrup but rugged enough to be devastatingly masculine.
“Apology accepted.” You breathed, trying not to sound too winded. It was too late to form any semblance of decency so the next best option was pretending he didn't single-handily give you the most toe-curling orgasm of your life. Easier said than done.
Price detached from you, walking over to one of his office drawers and pulling out a box of tissues. “Normally I'd have something better to clean you up with but these will do for now.” He said casually, pulling a few from the box and coaxing your legs back open to wipe down the mess. Somehow, you felt a blush spread across your cheeks.
This was so...domestic, sweet even, it wasn't like him. Then again, fingering you on his desk wasn't like him either but here you were. You both had crossed a line and there wasn't any going back, you swallowed. “Thanks, but uhm…what do we do now?” Frankly, it was a dumb question but you couldn't help asking.
He gave you a look, “What do you mean?” You squirmed under his gaze, trying not to look down at his warm hand brushing up against your inner thigh.
“Well, we can't exactly pretend like this didn't happen.” You clarified, watching as the wheels in his head turned. Price shrugged, “We can leave it at this if that's what you want. I think both of us are just on edge, y’know, the heat of the moment.”
Somehow his words didn't match his face, there was more that seemed to bellow beneath his tone. But rather than bringing it up, you thought about his words. This wasn't ever something you anticipated to happen but to your surprise, you didn't hate it. “What if we just kept it going?”
Price looked at you, his eyes widened a tad, the surprise written across his face doing more for your nerves than you were comfortable with. “Like- in the sense that you and I both have a lot of built-up tension and unresolved issues. But if this works to keep the peace why not give it a try? Discreetly of course.”
It was a beat before he responded, “Alright, but like you said, discreet. If anyone catches on this is done.”
You soared, why? You didn't know, it just felt like the best news you'd gotten in forever. But looking too deeply into that feeling was uncharted territory. Better off leaving it in the corner of your brain with all the other repressed emotions.
“Works for me.” You agreed, Price got up again to grab your poor clothes that had been flung across the room. Handing them back gingerly, he was nice enough to turn around as you reclothed yourself. There was a slight charge to the air, almost like static. It pricked at your skin, making you jumpy and nearly insecure. It was like you had reverted to a teenage girl.
He caught your gaze, and the unspoken tension and lingering awkwardness faded just a little. He gave you a nod, “I'll see you tomorrow for drills.”
You smiled just slightly, “See you.” Walking to the door and turning the handle, you forced yourself not to look back at him.
After shutting the door you breathed a sigh, brushing out your clothes and smoothing your hair of the lingering frizz. Getting cozy with your captain was not on your yearly bingo card, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. You absentmindedly thought about the implications of technically giving that stupid rumor some validity. But you were only human, a girl has to do what she has to do to get laid.
Discreetly, of course, you were great about being discreet. Yeah, easy peasy. All you had to do was make sure nobody found out.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
At first, you didn't really know what to expect when you first made the arrangement with Price about “solving the unresolved problems between the two of you.” But after a few weeks of working out frustrations ‘on’ each other, you could say with full confidence that this arrangement exceeded your expectations.
Not only had the genuine fights between you been on an extended hiatus, but it started to be replaced with playful banter. And when you weren't bantering or training or hanging out with the group, you were fucking. And boy was it something.
For one, Price was experienced, to say the least, he knew what to do and when to do it. He had mapped out your body and played it like a fiddle. And with your extent of mediocre lovers, it was like a breath of fresh air. And his body was nothing to sneeze at either, he had muscle allll the way down. Battle scars be dammed, everything just seemed to make him more appealing.
The only troubling part of the arrangement was keeping up the ruse and getting creative when it came to the actual action portion of it. But turns out that unconventional areas to have sex weren't as bad as they seemed. Office? Hell yeah. In the medical wing private rooms? Why not. In the showers and bathrooms? You only live once.
Unintentionally getting laid was also fixing your mood. Who knew an orgasm was a great way to fix an attitude problem? Well, at least most of your attitude problems.
You were outside running the trail that weaved its way around the base, at least once or twice a week Price would make you and the team run until you thought you would pass out. Something about endurance training. Running wasn't the worst thing but the harsh trail and uneven ground that zigzagged and dipped made you want to tear your hair out.
Your breath came out in small puffs, the cold air around you doing little to soothe the hot ache of your muscles. Your baby hairs stuck to your forehead and by the looks of it, you still had a few more miles left.
Jhonny ran beside you, his heavy breaths synchronous with yours. Up ahead was Gaz and Price and a few inches behind you was Ghost acting as caboose. You watched them run in front of you like you were studying a Peloton ad. Seriously, how the hell had they barely broken a sweat yet?? It was downright annoying how athletic they were.
“I swear, neither of them are human. Price just got cleared to run a week ago and he looks like he's having the time of his life.” You said between pants, next to you Soap laughed.
“Can’t say I disagree with ya’ there Bonnie, think he just does it for show at this point.” He said, his voice equally hoarse. From behind you, Ghost chimed in, “Maybe if you two stopped talking you'd actually catch up to them by now.”
You shot Ghost a glance over your shoulder, “People in glass houses.” You quipped, considering he was the caboose it was a little ironic. Not by much but still.
Soap grinned, “She’s right ain't she L.T.? Say, how's the arse of the train treating you? Got a nice view?”
Your laugh hurt, the air felt so thin but the pit of your stomach warmed. Talking while running (especially laughing) wasn't the smartest, but it was a distraction. Ghost swatted at the back of Soap’s head, cutting his laugh short.
From up ahead Price turned his head to look at you and Soap. “Two miles left, I’d suggest you save your stamina. If you fall behind on time you run extra.” He deadpanned. His voice barely sounded tired, the nerve.
You grimaced, “I think I’d prefer one of your medieval torture methods than running any longer.” Despite what you thought was an amusing comment Price didn't look enthused.
“That was a nice way of telling you and Jhonny to shut up, am I clear?” He said sternly, you held in your groan. Hookup buddy or not, Price was still annoying. “Clear.” You and Soap said in unison.
The rest of the path was spent in lingering silence. And by the time you reached base, you felt like you had one foot in the grave. You hunched over, your hands on your knees as you took in as many breaths as you could without it hurting. Had the air always been this thin?
Price was a few feet ahead, hands on his hips as he cooled off. His hair was slightly messy and his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He reached for his shirt and pulled it up to wipe his face, exposing the hard muscle and his happy trail. Dear lord. You watched him like a hawk, zeroing in on his abs as they expanded and decompressed with each breath.
He glanced your way, you were incredibly obvious so it was no surprise how his eyebrow twitched up and his lips pulled into a wry smile. “I did tell you to save your energy.” He commented quite smugly, referencing your current state.
You snapped out of the trance his abs had put you in, leaning back up and darting your eyes away. “I’m fine, just catching my breath. And for the record that felt way longer than normal, at this point, you just like to watch the team suffer.”
Price chuckled, crossing his arms. “Well someone’s bitter. But look, you did it and you came out fine. It's a win-win.”
You glared at him, unimpressed. “Sure, you work me like a dog until I inevitably die of overexertion and I get a paycheck in the mail that I'll never be able to spend because I'm dead. Win-win.” You said sarcastically. Price's lips tugged up, his mutton chops creating an almost teddy bear-like effect.
The corners of his eyes slightly crinkled, “Maybe you should've taken up drama instead of Military. Might fit you better.”
Your lips pursed into a line, Price was quick witted, but way too full of himself. It was a good thing you were there to keep his ego in line, you liked to think of yourself almost as the balancing act of the team. After all, there could only be so many cooks in the kitchen before things got rocky. “Good thing they don’t pay you for jokes.” You said, finally gaining back your breath.
Just as Price opened his mouth to give what was most likely a poor rebuttal a large hand patted your shoulder.
“[Name], pub tonight yeah?” It was Gaz. His beaming face almost made you squint. You took a minute to process his words, you were rarely one to inhabit the pubs on the outskirts of the base. But a brief memory of him and Jhonny asking you to go from earlier that morning cleared up your memory fog.
You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yeah- wouldn't miss it.” You said through your teeth. Gaz looked forward to Price, “You tagging along Price?”
You looked back at Price too, curious. He stood there a moment before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I will. Someone's got to keep the lot of ya’ in check.” Your spirit plummeted, the last time you were drunk in front of Price you started cursing at him like a drunken sailor. And you started kissing him in broad…daylight? Nightlight? Whatever. The point was, that you had zero self-control when you drank.
Heck, you barely had any self-control when it came to Price. You were on him any chance you got, and mixing two of your greatest temptations just sounded like a recipe for disaster.
Gaz smiled, ruffling your sweaty hair. “Great! We’ll leave after dinner, Price you're designated driver.” You forced yourself to smile back, giving a weak excuse for an ‘excited’ laugh.
“Great.” You said through your teeth, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. Price gave him a nod as he walked off towards Soap and Ghost.
“Can’t wait.” You breathed to yourself.
Game plan: Don't drink and avoid Price at all costs. Simple enough. After all, it was just a pub, how bad could it be?
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Spoiler Alert: Bad. It could be bad.
In the first thirty minutes of being at the shabby pub, you'd broken your first rule by getting roped into a drinking game with Jhonny. Not the smartest of decisions by far that you made. But it did take off the edge, now the orange lighting and the peeling paint on the walls seemed quaint instead of creepy.
The warmth in your stomach buzzed with a low frequency that made you giddy. And you hadn't paid for any of your drinks courtesy of Jhonny. Things may have been turning out for the better if you stayed on your A game. But unsurprisingly you failed to do so.
You sat on one of the barstools, a classic marg in hand with the salted rim and fancy lime slice on the glass. Ghost was sitting next to you while you both watched Jhonny trying to sweet-talk some poor girl from across the bar. Price sat a few chairs down next to Gaz, wrapped up in a conversation with the old bartender. Slowly, you felt yourself getting cozy.
And you were drunk enough that you merely hummed along with the maroon 5 reruns that played in the background.
“I got fifteen on the girl slappin’ him by the end of the night.” Ghost said as you watched the scene unfold.
You couldn't help but let an unabashed giggle slip from your lips. “Honestly I can't tell if she wants to take him home or take him to the local station for harassment charges.” Ghost grunted in agreement.
The girl gingerly took another sip of her drink as Soap talked to (at) her. Earning another hearty laugh from both You and Ghost. After another minute of people-watching Ghost patted the bar table, fishing a pack from inside of his cargo pocket. “Alright, I’m taking five’ I'll be outside.” He said as he got up.
You frowned but nodded, your gossip buddy was gone which was annoying. But instead of dwelling on it, you took another sip of your marg. The tequila burned your throat in a sickly sweet way, it wasn't the best drink you'd ever had but it did the job. Mid-drink you felt someone else walk up behind you, without warning someone slid into the empty stool next to you.
“This seat taken?” You didn't recognize the voice, it was masculine but it didn't sound like any of the guys. You looked to your side, it was a guy. He looked to be taller, with pale skin, sandy brown hair, and dark eyes. He wasn't about to be on a magazine cover but he definitely wasn't hard to look at.
You didn't quite know what to say, “uh…yeah, I suppose by you.” It was a lame response but he did kinda already sit himself down.
He smiled, white teeth, a little crooked but nobody's perfect. He had a good jaw, not clean-shaven but it made him look a bit more approachable. “That’s good to hear,” he was holding a drink, a gin-and-coke by the looks of it. “I saw you and your friend playing that drinking game earlier, pretty impressive, didn't think you'd be able to keep up.”
You gave a bit of an awkward laugh, unsure of what to make of the situation. But friendly conversation wasn't off the table, and the mystery man seemed nice enough. “Yeah, I guess I did, thanks. You uh- you done anything like that before?”
Mystery man shook his head, “No I can't hold my ale. I prefer to let the professionals handle that.” You laughed, finding the comment a little ridiculous.
“I’d hardly call myself a professional.” You replied, taking another sip of your drink. His eyes dipped down to your lips, watching as you raised the glass to your mouth and swallowed. But, they quickly averted back to your eyes.
“I don't know, I would hardly classify you as intermediate. I would buy you a drink but I'm not sure that much to drink in one night is healthy.” He said smoothly, leaning one elbow against the counter.
Buy you a drink? Okay, maybe a bit too friendly. But maybe he was just being nice, people buy strangers drinks all the time. You nodded, “Oh that's nice of you. Yeah, I'd say after this I’ll call it quits.” You said, raising your marg.
He hummed and nodded, licking his lips. “Hopefully you're not too drunk, right?” Something about his tone you didn't like, it was like he was teasing you.
You averted your eyes, “Uh hopefully not. Just buzzed for now, I’ll probably feel the brunt of it later.” You laughed awkwardly.
“Did you drive here yourself?” Okay, what was with all the questions? You weren't sure if that was a courteous thing to ask or just downright nosy.
You shook your head, “No someone drove me.” You said simply, keeping it short and sweet. Maybe then he'd get the vibes you were putting off. He hummed, his eyes drilling into you like one of those toy lasers.
“Are you going home with anyone?” He asked, you almost choked on your drink. What was with this guy? How did you go from drinking the game two seconds ago to this??
He cut you off before you had the chance to say anything, “Because if not, I’d be willing to drive you back. Free of charge, of course.”
Free of charge my ass.
The actual charge probably consisted of a blow job in the back seat of his Toyota Corolla. Or white van, you were still figuring out the vibes on this guy.
You were stunned to speak, absolutely dumbfounded by the lack of social cues. It was like walking into the shallow end of a pool only to step into eight feet of water. To make it worse he reached forward, brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Come on, don't leave me hanging. What do you say?”
Pound!’
Something hard hit the counter, making both your drinks wobble. You swiveled your head towards the noise, and low and behold your second greatest desire now stood between you and the mystery guy. Price.
His fist on the counter cut the conversation short as well as all the noise around him. Creating an oh-so-silent bar. The mystery man retracted his hand like he'd been scorched by an open flame. Looking up at Price with a bewildered expression, “What the fuck man?” He asked with a furrowed brow.
Price looked down at him, his expression unmoving. “Apologies, but I think it's time you go bother another person. Particularly one that isn't a part of my team.”
Whatever thoughts of arguing that the mystery man had immediately died as Price crossed his arms, puffing himself out like a bird when ruffling its feathers. You looked at both of them incredulously, sure you were glad Price came to the rescue but you could've handled it yourself. You didn't need him to come barreling through like a charging rhino to handle something you didn't even ask him to do.
You looked around to see everyone's heads turned in your direction, looking between Price and the other guy. Suddenly the alcohol in your stomach turned sour, and you felt your cheeks grow hot from the unwanted attention.
“Jeez, look I wasn't looking for any trouble. I didn't know she had a man, my bad.” He said, holding his hands up in surrender. Price didn't budge, guarding you like a stone wall. “Then off you go.” He said sternly.
The mystery guy nodded, sliding out from the barstool and walking past you and back to the table where he came from. The pub started to go back to normal, people picking up where they left off. Price turned back to you, his posture deflating a little. He looked down at you, and from the way you were looking back at him, he immediately knew something was amiss. “What?” He asked.
Your eyebrows slid lower on your face, your lips pursing into a tight frown. “What do you mean ‘what?’ What the fuck was that?” You whisper shouted at him, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment.
Price looked at you like you were crazy, a frown on his lips. “The bloke was touching you, you think I'm just going to stand by and let him paw at you?” He asked defensively.
Oh please. He barely even touched your face. It wasn’t great, but, it didn’t warrant Price making a whole spectacle. Especially not in front of the team, let alone a group of spectators. You looked back at Gaz, who was staring directly at you, then at Jhonny, who went back to talking to the girl.
“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” You signed, not wanting to be in earshot of Gaz who was most definitely eavesdropping. Friend or not, he couldn't know any more than he already did, the bastard was perceptive enough as it was.
Price glanced at Gaz and then back to you, his jaw working with tension. “Fine.” He huffed, you were a bit taken aback by the irritability in his tone. Why was he so mad now? He was the one who caused the scene. Nonetheless, you slipped out of the bar and followed Price as he stormed off.
You weaved through tables and people, trying your best to squeeze by without knocking into anything. Price walked into an emptier hallway that led to the restrooms. It was one of those creepy hallways with no overhead lights and weird pictures strung across the walls. You eyed the peeling wallpaper, it was like you'd stepped into a time capsule. Warm light poured from the main area of the bar, casting an orange hue against you and Price that was cut off by shadows.
He turned back to you, the furrow in his brow knitting the skin in between. He looked sexy. The thought popped into your mind before you had the sense to block it out. While very true you had to stand your ground. A hot man and some liquor in your system would not sway your resolve. (Maybe it could sway it a little.) focus!
“What was that? You charging up to that guy and slamming your fist on the counter.” You asked folding your arms over your chest.
Price leaned against the opposite wall, facing you. “I didn't charge up to him, I simply made it clear that he crossed a line.” He said defiantly. You raised a brow, unsure of what to make of the blanket statement.
“What line?” You asked, to which Price scoffed.
“He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and don't think I didn't hear the way he was interrogating you. Come off it [Name], I know you're not stupid, you could see clear as I could what that fucker wanted.” He spat.
You exhaled, either the liquor was catching up to you or it was starting to get hot. “Well yeah, but he barely did anything, and that hardly warranted you taking matters into your own hands.” You defended, “-I could have just told him to fuck off or something. I didn't need you charging in like a bull and letting the entire bar know.”
You watched Price’s hand bawl into a fist, flexing the strain in his neck as he glared down at you. “What else was I supposed to do? Politely ask him to leave? When he's got his dirty hands on you like that-” He groaned, wiping his face with one hand.
“I'm not defenseless, I don't need you to rescue me.” You retorted, your hands holding your arms tighter to your chest.
Price rolled his eyes, “I know that. Don’t get smart with me.” He said pointing a finger your way, his mouth curling into a small snarl. “You don't get it, watching him practically undressing you with his eyes. It was fucking aggravating to watch- the way he looked at you.”
You were a bit surprised that he caught on to that, but you didn't feel like he was undressing you with his eyes per se. More like just intently staring, you pushed his accusatory finger down. “You're exaggerating, and you don't even know what he was thinking.” You tried to reason.
Price looked at you with a glare that would’ve made anyone else back down. But you didn't, as Jhonny once commented, you had the rather: “Fucking idiotic tendency to never be scared of Price.” What could you say? You liked a challenge.
He took a step forward, making you take one back. Your back hit the wall of the hallway. Like a caged animal, you were trapped. “I know exactly what he's thinking.” Price snarled, he grabbed your face. The rough pads of his fingers pressed into your hollow cheeks, his hand was so big it dwarfed your lower jaw.
“-Because I fucking think of the exact same things when I look at you.” His voice was harsh and low, sending ripples through your spine like shock waves. Price’s hand forced your face up so it was locked dead onto his, making you look into his eyes shadowed by the darkness. Flecks of light caught on his face, against his beard and jaw. If anyone were to walk into the hallway, it may have looked like Price was about to devour you like a starving carnivore.
You shuddered, he was so close it was driving your senses crazy. You could smell him, taste the venom in his voice, and God did it turn you on. You wanted more, you wanted to push his buttons. It felt good to drive him to the point of fury, to watch him slowly lose his composure. Years of hard discipline and mental strength all crumbling within minutes, and you wanted to watch.
“I don’t care if every man on the planet looks at me that way. I'm not yours, you don't get to put a claim on me. And you sure as hell don't get to make a scene in front of the entire bar and the team.” You spat back. Like an open flame, the wildfire between you and Price only seemed to burn brighter, faster, harder.
“-And what happened to being discrete huh? Last time I checked, scaring off any guy who looks in my direction isn't discrete.” You pried.
Price scowled down at you, his breathing starting to grow more labored. His hand clenched your face more forcefully, not enough to hurt but enough that you couldn't move. “You're right. You don't belong to me, but I am still your Captain, and you answer to me. Not to Gaz, or Jhonny, or Ghost. Not to some stupid prick who just wants a quick fuck. Me.”
Price was slowly getting angrier, to be honest, you rarely saw him this pissed. But deep down, it kind of did something to you. Knowing that you were the cause of his anger.
It was an ache that settled deep within your bones, making your blood coarse red hot. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was something more. Either way, you didn't care, you just needed to feel the satisfaction of breaking his ressolve. Stripping him of every facet that made him a man and revealing the primitive monster that lied underneath.
Your eyes narrowed into slits, “Fuck you Price.”
There was a beat of silence that stretched for far too long. It was so quiet you could almost feel the way your heart hammered in your chest. You made hard eye contact with him, watching the way his eyes widened and how his irises scanned over the expanse of your face.
“Fuck me?” He spoke, his voice hard and breathy. His hand forced your face up, straining the muscles in your neck. The back of your head was pressed into the hard wall with firm pressure. And to your surprise, the corner of his lip turned up into an amused smile. “Fuck me huh?” He repeated, and as suddenly as it appeared, his smile dropped.
“Fuck you.” He spat, surging forward into a clash of tongue, teeth, and lips. You quickly grabbed at his head, twisting your fingers through his hair. Your arms wrapped around him like a constricting snake.
The kiss was so rough you didn't even know if it could be classified as a kiss really. His body practically slammed into you, pinning you to the wall like a fly caught in a spider's web. One of his hands still clutched your face while the other was pressed flat into the wall beside your head. You heard one of the pictures that was hung on the wall next to you clatter to the ground. Everything seemed to fade into the background, all that mattered was the man who was currently pinning you to the wall.
Price was kissing you like a man starved. You forgot where you were, what you were doing, and why you felt so angry in the first place.
You distantly felt his hands move down to roughly cup your ass and then the back of your thighs. Price hoisted you up, trapping you between the wall and himself. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, grinding your hips against his. You groaned as you felt his tented pants against your clothed core, he was hard as a rock.
Your hands raked down the expanse of his back, fisting the soft cotton of his shirt between your fingers. Price took a few steps back, holding you to his chest still. His back hit the other wall with a thud, making the other pictures rattle. He kept maneuvering around like a blind man until his back hit the door to one of the bathrooms. It gave way to his weight, swinging backward.
“Price what-” Your words were cut off by another open-mouthed kiss. You returned it just as eagerly, maybe asking what he was doing could wait another minute. Price’s back hit the door again, one of his hands scrambling for the lock. He carried you across the empty bathroom, bouncing off the walls and counters as you went.
He managed to open the door to the last stall tucked away in the corner. Slamming against the stall you kissed him like an animal, clawing at his back and rolling your hips into his.
After another minute you pulled away for a breath, panting like you'd just swam up for air. His breath fanned your lips, thick with his taste and your mixed spit. The dingy bathroom was poorly lit, casting everything inside it in a dark light. You swallowed, “What are we doing in here?” You panted.
Price’s hands squeezed your ass, “Making sure nobody else can see what I'm about to do to you.” His voice was heavy and thick, like molasses sugar. The richness of it clouded your senses, making you loopy. Without warning he pulled you off him, setting you down on your feet with a hand tangled in your hair.
“On the ground.” He spoke, more of a command than anything.
You blinked, either it was the round of drinks or just his effect on you but the words barely processed. “What?” You breathed, your eyebrows knitting together.
Price gave your head a sharp yank, a surprised gasp slipping past your lips. His thick digits curled around your hair tighter, pulling your scalp taunt. “I said on the ground, I know you can listen to me.” He said, his voice was rough now, scratching against your eardrums like sandpaper. You knew you were in far too deep to back out now. (Not that you wanted to). So, you obeyed, much like an animal self domesticating itself to survive.
Your knees pressed into the cool, hard tile. Price still held your hair, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes. You saw it, the small restraint he always held, like a second face he wore around everyone else- it was gone. There was pure, unabashed want in his eyes. You felt your lungs deflate, the breath leaving your body. Hands that held his thighs dug into his jeans, an unspoken message that screamed ‘go.’
The adams apple in his throat bobbed, and Price’s other hand migrated to his belt. Gradually he unclasped the silver belt buckle, “You’re a smart girl [Name]. I know you didn't just say all of that before cause’ you wanted to prove a point to me.” He spoke, sliding the leather band open and pushing the top button of his pants through the slit. “-I know you're not that fucking stupid. So tell me…why did you? Just to get under my skin? To rile me up?”
Your throat ran dry, eyes glued to his fingers as they slid down the zipper. Preening to watch the way his boxers spilled out of the narrow opening. Price yanked your head back again with a sharp yelp on your part.
“Look at me. Not my cock, you'll have plenty of time to look at it later.” He breathed, pools of navy boring in your eyes. His pupils dilated, the soft red that colored his cheeks and ears doing little to soothe the roaring flame that burned between your legs.
You were at a loss for words, to be honest, you weren't completely sure why either. A sense of curiosity? It was hard to put into speech, “I…I wanted to see what you'd do.” You answered, making his eyebrow twitch up.
“Thats all? Not because you have a fascination with me? With fucking with my goddamn head. You don't like driving me insane?” He spat, palming a hand over himself. Your eyes flicked down, watching the fabric of his briefs stretch over the bulge.
You swallowed, looking at him tentatively. “I wanted to see the real you. Not the front, not the put-together Captain. You.”
A silence hung in the air, one that casted a thick layer of tension between you. Price’s lips turned upwards, a darkly amused chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom. “You already had me, baby.” He reached his hand into his briefs, pulling out his thick cock. He groaned, rubbing his hand up and down his appendage, “Fucking temptress that's what you are. You want me to not hold back, is that it? To fuck you stupid?”
You couldn't take your eyes off him even if you'd wanted to. No matter how many times you saw his dick it never got old, all you could do was marvel at it. He was big, and more importantly, he was thick. You watched his hand stroke the peachy skin, watching the heaviness of its girth and the reddened mushroom tip that beaded with milky pre-cum.
Price laughed, eyeing the way you looked at him like a starving animal. “This what you wanted? What all the fuss was about?” You couldn't help but nod, wetting your lips just at the sight. “-Tell me you want it. That you want me to fuck your throat raw.” He spoke, Price held himself just out of reach. Like a cat with a feathery toy, you were completely entranced.
You nodded, “Price fuck my throat.” The words sounded so odd coming from your mouth, so raw and crude it almost surprised you.
Price gave your head a small tug, a satisfactory grin on his face. He looked down at you, nodding his head to you as if to say ‘Go ahead.’ You could barely contain yourself as your hands slid around his cock, feeling the burn of hot skin beneath your palms. He was so thick your one hand almost couldn't wrap around his girth, two hands would have to do the job.
The weight of his length felt good, oh yeah, and not to mention that he was harder than a metal pole. Hastily you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the bulbous tip.
Price’s head fell back against the stall door, his hips twitched forward. A hearty groan fell from his parted lips. The hand in your hair gave you an encouraging squeeze. You hummed, letting the vibrations from your voice reverberate off his dick. He tasted like skin, musky and salty, leaving an earthy kind of aftertaste that clung to your tongue like syrup.
You separated with a lewd ‘pop, watching the muscles in Price’s neck strain. Dipping your head you licked a stripe up his cock, coating the length in a thin layer of spit. One hand stroked him up and down while the other dug into his thigh, leaving small crescents into the fabric of his pants. Beads of pre-cum spilled out from the small slit of his tip, you let your thumb swipe over the head generously lubing up his base.
Price’s hands tightened in your hair, “Fuck- that's it. Just like that pretty girl.” He panted, earning a pleased hum from your lips.
Without warning you took his cock back into your mouth, sinking down the furthest you could without gagging. The gummy walls of your throat tightened around the foreign object, accompanied by a wet gulping noise. You inhaled through your nostrils, trying your best to take him further.
Price cursed loudly, the sound of his voice bouncing across the tile walls. His cock twitched in your mouth. You moved your head down then forward, repeating the motion until you found a steady rhythm of bobbing down on his dick. What your mouth couldn't reach your hand made up for, squeezing and stroking faster and faster. He was so wound up you could practically feel the tension under his skin.
You pulled off of him, your mouth agape as you panted. Spit and other fluid gleamed against your lips like a gloss. Price looked down at you, confusion written across his face with a tad of concern.
“Are you okay?” He said through heavy breaths, to which you nodded. However, you shot him a stern look.
“You're holding back.” You panted, staring at him with a knowing glare. Price looked at you, unsure of how to respond to your accusatory tone. “-I said-Fuck. My. Throat.”
His face hardened, and the same animalistic gleam came back. “Fine. You want me to let go? I can let go.”
That was all it took before his hand wrapped around your hair like a rope. Pushing you down his cock inch by fucking inch. He moaned through his teeth, “Fuck- you know what to do if it gets to be too much.” He said breathlessly. It was true, you did know you always had an out, but this was way more fun.
Your jaw went slack to accommodate him, the stretch of him down your throat sending full-body shivers down your spine. Then he started to move. Your hands found his thighs, digging your nails into his pants.
Price made good on his promise, fucking your throat like it was his life’s goal. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you almost gag, hot tears stung your eyes. It was rough and desperate, he used your throat like he hated your guts. And you couldn't help but love every second of it, you managed to crack him. The hard shell he kept, and the walls he built up, were slowly crumbling down.
Then, as quickly as he pushed you down he pulled you off of him. You sucked in a desperate breath, making a small noise of confusion. You stared at Price with a quizzical look, one that bordered on ‘wtf??’
Price looked wrecked, his hair tussled and cheeks tinged red. Small beads of sweat trickled down his temples, but he smiled. “I'm sorry baby, did you want me to keep going?” He exhaled, an almost pitying aspect to his tone. The hand in your hair slid down to cup your chin, a rough thumb swiping over your puffy bottom lip.
“Why’d you stop?” You frowned up at him, and try as you might the disappointment in your voice was clear as day.
Price cupped your jaw, forcing your head back further. “Because as much as I love your mouth, I would much rather cum in that beautiful cunt of yours.”
You tried not to choke, refusing to give him the satisfaction that his words sent whole body shivers through you. But, it did sound heavenly, so you nodded and let him help you to your feet again. From there he guided you up against the stall, your palms flat on the cool door.
Price’s chest went flush with your back, his face tucked into where your shoulder met your neck. His hot breath fanned against you and the hairs of his scruff tickled your skin. Thick hands found your hips, sliding to your crotch to unzip your pants. You tried not to let your breath hitch as he palmed a hand over your clothed cunt.
“Jesus- this wet for me already? Haven't even touched you yet, but here you are, soaking your panties like a slag.” Price murmured into your nape, and even though you couldn't see it, you could feel his smirk.
You bit down on your cheek, “Big talk from someone who could barely keep it together while getting a simple blowy.” Your pants slid down and a sharp blow was delivered to your behind. You yelped, caught off guard by the harsh slap.
“Careful.” He murmured, his voice reverberating off the shell of your ear. Your eyes stung with tears as the burning sting of his mark cooled into a low ache. “-We don't have a whole day for you to think of a good comeback before someone comes knocking on that door. So I’d try to cooperate unless you want me to leave you high and dry. Which I'm perfectly fine with doing.”
Liar. He was bluffing, but Price was just as stubborn as you were and would most definitely make you wait an unseemly amount of time just to cum. So, for once in your life, you listened.
Trying to bite back your moans, you stood statue-still as Price tugged the offending garment to the side. Two fingers slid along your folds before plunging inside with a wet squelch. “Fuck, you're tight. You sure you can take me?” He breathed, and you threw your head back into his chest. He fingered you slowly, mapping out every crevice and dip with the pads of his fingers.
It wasn't enough. You needed more, “Price if you don't fuck me right now, I swear to god, I will do it myself.” Okay, so maybe that sounded a little bit more desperate than intimidating, but it got the message across.
You felt his breathy chuckle against your ear, and suddenly, his fingers slipped out of you. “Yes ma'am,” he said. However, the empty void left by his fingers was soon replaced by the burning contact of his cock against your swollen folds. Price groaned as he slid himself back and forth, gathering up your slick to use as lube.
A shudder ran down your spine, your palms pressing against the door harder. You pushed your hips back against him, earning another pleased hum from your Captain. You could barely breathe, there was a burning tension that ate away at your core. Like a rope stretched too tight, all you could do was wait for it to snap apart.
His tip slowly slipped inside your hole, the burning stretch of his girth sending the hairs at the back of your neck up. Inch by inch he seethed himself into you, “Price-holy fuck.” You moaned, even with how wet you were, no amount of lube would ever fully prepare you for the sheer mass of him.
Price drew you in, letting your walls stretch and mold to his dick. His hands grabbed at your hip and lower stomach, holding you in place. His beard brushed against your collar as he placed a few nipping kisses on your neck. “I know baby, I know, taking me so fuckin’ well. Shit, this pussy was made for me.” He murmured into your sweaty skin.
Without warning, his hips drew back only to snap forward again. You couldn't help the unseemly moan that fell from your lips, he pounded into your cunt like it was his last day alive. The sloppy sounds of skin echoed through the room.
“Oh my god- Price.” You choked out, the side of your face pressed against the door. “-feels so good.” You panted between wet slaps as his hips drove into your behind. You could barely think over the sound of your moans, each second that his dick plunged back into your sopping pussy felt like sparks being lit inside of you.
He moaned, his voice resounding across the shell of your ear. A hand snaked its way up your stomach and cupped your neck like a choker necklace. His skin burned, thick fingers curling around your scruff. It didn't hurt but it was firm, making you pliant to his body. “That's it. Take my cock, let me fuck you like the slut you are.” He grid out, “-this pussy knows what she wants, and it's me. Nobody else can fuck you like I do. Nobody else can give you what you need, what you deserve.”
Your cunt fluttered around him, causing his hips to stutter before driving back into you with so much force your hips hit the door.
Knock knock knock’
You're body went rigid, and all the air in your lungs seemed to escape your ribs. Fuck! You had totally forgotten that you were in a public bathroom for Christ's sake. Price had locked the door, but that didn't mean people wouldn't try and come in.
Knock knock knock!’
It was louder this time, more impatient. You tried to look back at Price, but his hand on your neck held your head still. He wasn't stopping.
“Not so fast girly, I’d like to finish what I started.” He chuckled, angling his hips as he slammed back into your cunt. The head of his cock nuzzled against the spongy muscle of your g-spot. You were so caught off guard you didn't have time to cover the absolutely shameless moan that slipped from your lips.
Price groaned, and his cock twitched. “Fuuckk that's it, let them hear you. Let everyone know how good I'm making you feel, how good I'm fucking this pussy.” You could barely process his words, everything was starting to build up to the point you were almost seeing stars. “-Come on baby, cum for me. Cum on my cock.” He panted through firm thrusts.
A sharp cry rang through the empty walls, you saw white. Body pulsing as the waves of euphoria washed over your body like the tide. Each thrust sending new shocks down your spine, prolonging every second of your orgasm. Price’s hips stuttered, a loud curse ringing from his lips as he came inside you.
What followed was an extended silence that was filled with heavy pants. You could barely stand, Price’s chest flush with your back, his head leaning against your shoulder.
“Think they got the message?” Price mused, his voice thick with exhaustion. You couldn't help the laugh that rose from your chest, listening in for another knock. When none came you sighed, “Guess so.” You breathed.
After another minute of rest Price pulled off of you, leaving a trail of cum seeping down your thigh. Not to mention your sweaty back and all-around messy appearance. Price simply grinned at you when you shot him a nasty glare, using some toilet paper to clean up the fluids. “Whoops.” He shrugged.
It was a good thing you were on the pill, you might've slapped him if otherwise. He chuckled and pressed a ‘sorry’ kiss to your temple, “Come on soldier, you look like you've been through a war.” He quipped. You didn't even try to laugh at that one.
“Funny.” You said sarcastically, but once he opened the door after redressing you, you froze. The reflection in front of you looked well…like you had just been fucked in a bathroom stall. Small bites and hickeys littered your neck, poking up to where it was obvious to see. You hit his shoulder, “You dumbass, I look like I've been attacked by a swarm of mosquitoes! What the hell is the team going to think Mr. Designated Driver?”
Price looked at your reflection too, scratching the back of his neck. “We’ll find you a coat.” He settled on.
There was a small beat of silence, you looked back at him. “A coat, and I get to skip running drills for next week. Then you're forgiven.”
He looked back at you, “Deal.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You really shouldn’t have been doing this. It was stupid, completely idiotic. (maybe not as stupid as hooking up with your captain in a pub bathroom.) But alas, John Price could charm you into anything.
The cold night air of autumn nipped at your nose, making your face feel numb. Somehow you still felt the breeze blow through your bones while bundled up in a large coat and scarf. Hands in your pockets, you tried your best to walk inconspicuously through the small town streets next to the base.
It was late, past lights out. Just minutes before you were getting ready for bed. However, when Price called you up out of the blue asking for you to meet him for a night walk, curiosity got the best of you. To say it was odd would be an understatement, but you knew better than to pass up the opportunity. The nightlife in the little town was pretty nice, with Halloween now in full swing and all.
Small pumpkins and candles littered the ground while stores and bars were strung with purple and green lights. For a second you almost forgot you were supposed to be meeting Price. You checked your phone, reading over his message again.
[Captain]: The place is by the park, on 82th Ave. It’s an outdoor pop-up, festive. You can't miss it.
You looked over at one of the street signs, 79th Ave, it said. At least you were getting closer, directions weren't really your strong suit so all you could really do was hope for the best.
If anyone saw you out of base, especially with Price you’d 100% raise a few eyebrows not to mention you'd be in deep trouble. So you dipped your head as low as it could go to conceal your identity. Was this behavior one of a paranoid schizophrenic? It was possible. But after the phesasco at the bar, you were okay with being weary.
You heard a soft crowd of voices coming from a distance away. Walking towards it you saw a playground lit up with small lights, two children with what looked like their parents chasing them across the woodchips. More adults walking around the greener outskirts of the ground, laughing and holding dogs on leashes.
It stirred something good inside you, like a warm feeling that you didn't often get. You stopped walking, just watching the scene play out like a domestic storybook.
“Took you long enough.”
You jumped, whipping around to see the deep voice behind you. Standing there was Price, dressed in a thick coat with worn-out jeans. He held two plastic cups in his hands, steam rising off the mystery substance inside.
“You scared me,” You deadpanned. Your eyes went from the drinks in his hands back to his face. “-What’s with the cups?”
Price rolled his eyes, nodding behind him to the pop-up stand. “It’s cold, so I got you something to warm up.” He handed you one, which you accepted. Raising it to your nose, you sniffed the steam. It was warm, thick with spices, and sweet. You looked back at Price with a quizzical look, to which he smiled. “It’s cider.”
You raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. “Not the spiked kind I hope.” Holding the cup a bit away from you like it was radioactive. Price's eyes crinkled, chuckling as he shook his head.
“No, not spiked. We've got drills in the morning, I wouldn't do that to you.” With his confirmation, you took a sip, pulling your scarf down so you could drink. The hot liquid burned your tongue, but the flavor was worth it as it slid down into your stomach. Your eyes flickered up from the rim of the cup, looking at Price.
His eyes were on you, looking at you with a rare kind of softness. But after the split second of eye contact, he was the first to look away. You wiped your lips of the remaining sweetness, “Price what are we doing here?” You asked.
He cocked an eyebrow, “I thought I told you we were going on a night walk.” He said nonchalantly, earning a half-grunt on your part.
“I know that, but why am I here? I doubt that you're incapable of walking alone.” You pointed out, but Price just shrugged.
“Good company.” He said serrupticously, a wry smile stretched onto his lips. “-Are you really that averse to spending time with me? I'd hope after all this time spent together I wouldn't need a reason to want to be around you.” Price started walking, and out of instinct, you followed behind him until you were shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
“You're a bad lair.” You said, taking another sip of your cider. You watched the calm nightlife and a thought bubbled into your mind. Maybe to an onlooker you and Price probably looked like a couple just going on a stroll. It wasn't rocket science to see that there was a fraction of tension between you. Your cheeks pinked at the thought, but you pushed it away as soon as it came.
Price was also looking at the surrounding people, an odd look on his face. Something akin to yearning or want. He must've felt your stare because he spoke up. “Inquiring minds?”
You averted your eyes, “Sorry.” To which he shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.
“Don't bother, it’s fine.” He said cooly, his eyes fixed on a family standing a few feet away. You looked back at them then back to Price. A dawning washing over you in an instant. Your eyes furrowed in question.
“You uh… have a family?” Jesus that sounded choppy, you cringed at yourself. He looked at you a little surprised but shook his head.
“I mean sure. Everyone does, at least at one point. But if you're asking if I do currently then no.” You nodded, feeling a little bad for asking. It wasn't too uncommon in your field, but it still put a grim mood in the air. You tried thinking of ways you could rectify it.
“So…no crazy ex-wife or estranged children that I need to be worried about?” You said humorously, when Price smiled, a part of you sighed in relief.
He shook his head again, glancing at you. “No ex-wife or estranged children, no.” You smiled and nodded, but that raised another question.
“How come?” you asked simply.
He shot you a pointed look, “You're asking me that like I'm ancient. I'm not that much older than you are,” He breathed. “-But if you have to know I guess I just never had the time. It's a bit testy trying to form long-term connections with people when you're in this line of work.”
You nodded in understanding, he was right. The long deployments, chances of not coming back, weird hours, it all would put a strain on a relationship. It didn't stop some, however, sometimes after not seeing the good in humanity for so long you lose the ability to connect with anyone. Especially ‘normal’ people.
Your mind flashed to an old ex-boyfriend who used to talk at length about how cool it was that you got to “kill people for a living.” You didn't see it that way. Desensitized or not, it was still a human life you were taking, it took a toll, even if you were getting paid for it.
“I get that. It's hard to commit to someone you don't get to see most of the time.” You shrugged, a part of you wanted to ask about every relationship he'd ever had. More importantly how you fared against them. And for some odd reason, you felt uncomfortable knowing that he had been with other women. Maybe it was just basic biology or primitive instinct.
Price nodded, “If I could I would've.” He glanced back at the family, watching as the dad swept up his toddler into a hug. It was bittersweet, the way Price looked at the display, dangerously pulling at your heartstrings.
You gave him a weary smile, “There’s still time. Like you said, you're not ancient. Why not just retire and settle down with someone?”
Price looked back at you for a split second, not saying anything. He looked back out at the dark trees, the leaves rustling in the cold wind, and the lights that wrapped around the park. “Maybe at one point that was an option, but not now. I'm not cut out for it, my life is here. I'm no good at civilian shit, so I best stick to what I know.”
You didn't know what to say to that, it was a tough pill to swallow. It was silent for a few seconds. But, You nudged your shoulder with his, “Well then, I guess you're stuck with me.” Offering a somewhat awkward smile to go along with it.
Price looked down at you as he walked, his blue eyes were dark like the ocean. You didn't want to look away, you wanted to swim in his thoughts, drown yourself in his pools of navy grey. Eyes that housed so much hostility and venom towards you now bore into your own with a warmth that struck you like a match. His lips turned up, “Guess there are worse places to be.”
Your smile came back, and the mood between you ebbed into a lighter, happier atmosphere. Taking a last swig of your cider you shook your head, “You guess? Need I remind you who asked me to be here?”
Price chuckled, doing the same and tossing his empty cup into a nearby garbage. “Alright, you win. I am grateful you came, like I said, all in good company.”
The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, and you and Price walked around the park. You watched as more and more people slowly started to dwindle, leaving it emptier than when you got there. After doing a sort of loop you both agreed to start walking back to base, and so you did. Shoulder to shoulder you walked with him through the small streets and shops.
Once you started coming up on the familiar large building a strong gust of air hit you. Your eyes shut tightly and your nose scrunched. When you did open your eyes back up Price was looking at you, you stared back at him. “What?”
Price snickered, “Wind got you pretty good. There's a leaf in your hair.” He pointed out, to which you blindly started to try and fish out said leaf. He shook his head at your feeble efforts, stopping your hands.
“I’ll get it. You're just messing it up.” He breathed, carefully his large hands combed through your head. Plucking out a pine leaf and a small fuzz, “There.” He said proudly.
He flicked the unwanted objects off to the side, but one of his hands never left your hair. He was almost holding your face in his palm, you blinked up at him. Wondering why he wasn't letting you go, “Is there something else?” You asked.
Price looked at you, licking his lips before pursing them in a line. Slowly he shook his head, “No.” It was silent for another beat, the soft puffs of your breath visible in the cold. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed.
“Tell me you don't want me to kiss you.” He breathed.
Without a second thought, you shook your head no, “Price kiss me.” It was almost alarming to you how naturally it came out. You barely even processed your own words.
And as his lips met yours in a chaste, soft kiss, you let yourself melt into him. You let him in.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You had five months until your time with 141 came to an end. In that time you had managed to befriend the whole team, make enemies with your captain, kiss said Captain, go on to have a very explicit no-strings-attached relationship with him, and now…this.
What was ‘this?’ Well, you didn't really quite know yourself. But after that night when he kissed you outside of base without any intention of hooking up with you, your clear-cut relationship with him became a jumbled mess of suppressed emotion. No longer were intimate gestures limited to sexual encounters, in fact, they were frequently more domestic.
Was this all of Price’s doing? No. It was both, both of you were an intimacy-starved mess. But you couldn't help it, his private quarters were so nice and his king-sized bed seemed to fit both of you nicely on the nights you couldn't sleep. And what of it that you helped him with paperwork into the wee hours of the night? He hated being stuck up in his office alone, it was a kind gesture. Now you didn't even have to make your morning tea and coffee because whenever you made your way into the small break room a fresh cup was always sitting on the counter for you in Price’s signature mug.
And on your weekends off? Oh, you bet your sorry (but not really,) ass he was stuck to your hip like glue.
Without knowing it, you and your captain had almost formed a routine together. One that slowly started filling the lonely silence of your day with his body, his voice, his presence.
You knew every scar on his body, you'd mapped them out like constellations. You learned something new about him every day too, it was exciting yet familiar all at once. Unbenoiced to you, 141 and by extension Price, had become home.
All of this had somehow been accumulating without your knowledge until now. To which this realization that you were a little too fond of your captain hit you like a truck. Bringing you to your current position, hunched over a small table that was tucked away in the corner of the break room. It was wayyy past lights out, but laying in your bed left with your thoughts and anxiety sounded nightmarish. A steaming cup of tea sat on the table a few inches away, (in Price’s signature mug of course.)
Just as you were about to finally take a sip, someone walked in. You sat straight up, your heart running a million miles an hour. On top of that, you almost knocked your tea over. Who the hell was coming in at almost one in the morning???
It was Gaz.
You placed a hand over your racing heart, letting out the breath you didn't know you were holding. “Jesus- you scared the shit out of me Garrick.” You said wearily.
Gaz stood at the door in his beat-up grey sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. He looked a little rough, well, as rough as someone with his looks could be. He scratched the back of his head, “Sorry, didn't think anyone would be up this late.” Dark eyebags colored his smooth brown skin, making him look like he was two steps from passing out.
Your eyebrows furrowed in a slight amount of worry, “rough night?” He nodded, walking into the room, and making a beeline for the refrigerator.
“Pretty much, figured it was better to be awake than sleeping if sleep wasn't doing me any good.” He yawned, grabbing one of those refrigerated protein bars from the fridge. You nodded a silent understanding. Nightmares were commonplace, nobody talked about them, but everyone had a shared understanding of what went on in and after you woke up. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish where the dream ended and reality began.
He looked back at you as he tore the wrapper off, “What about you? You look like shit…so I want to say you're in the same boat?” Gaz took a large bite of his bar.
You groaned, your head falling back down on the wood table. “Gee, thanks. But not really, just sorting out some other business.” You said bitterly.
Gaz hummed in understanding, but when you looked back up he was pulling the opposite end chair out. He sat himself across from you, folding his arms as he ate. “Okay, what's up then?” He said plainly.
You blinked at him, “What? No, I'm not just going to tell you. It's private.” You said shaking your head and putting your hands up as if to block his question. Gaz looked at you unimpressed, raising a single eyebrow.
“Uh-huh, does it have something to do with Price?” He said, staring at you with the intensity of a laser.
You almost choked on your spit, looking at him like he'd just killed your family cat in front of you. Your mouth agape, “Absolutely not. Why would you think it’d be about Price?” You said quickly.
Gaz simply looked at you, raising both his eyebrows at you. A silent communication of ‘Are you serious?’ was said by his stare. After another moment of the staring contest, you gave up, dropping your head back down with a groan. “I'm so fucked.” You said defeated.
He perked up, “Spill.” Was all he said.
You covered your mouth, almost as if to stop yourself from saying anything. This was so breaking every agreement you and Price had talked about. But frankly, you were going insane keeping it to yourself. And maybe Gaz was the best person to tell, as much as you loved Ghost and Soap, they were useless at keeping secrets.
You glanced back up to Gaz, his brown eyes intently staring at you. Your resolve started to crumble, “I think I’m in love with him.” Whispered, the haunting words magnifying the gravity of the situation you found yourself in.
Gaz’s eyes shot wider like he’d just been injected with 1,000g of caffeine. His mouth fell open, and the half-eaten bar in his hands dropped onto the table. You both sat there staring at each other with similar mortified expressions. He shut his mouth, “I-Well that wasn't really what I expected to hear.” He said agast.
You buried your face into your hands, groaning. “Fuck I know- I don't even know where that came from. But we've been like…messing around with each other for a few months, and I thought it was just that.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your palms. “But now everything is like complicated, I just let my feelings take the reins and got ahead of myself. Now I don't know what to do and nobody knows because obviously, I couldn't tell anyone. After all, either of us could get in trouble.”
Gaz sat silent as you rambled on, “-I’m still not sure exactly what I'm feeling. I've never felt this way about anyone else, I've had boyfriends, but not a weird hookup situation. So, I'm not sure how one really goes about this.” You looked down at the table, taking a breath. “So, does that answer your question?” You breathed.
He stared at you, dumbfounded. “So that rumor you got so mad over was true?” He said lamely, to which you groaned and threw your hands up in the air.
“No!” You whisper shouted, “-I mean no but yes. The rumor came first, that night I stormed off Price kissed me. And after that things just kinda… got carried away.” You said sheepishly, feeling a bit guilty.
Gaz let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Jesus [Name], I knew something was going on between you but I didn't think it went that deep.” He ran a hand over his chin, scratching his jaw. “-So…you and Price have been secretly fucking, but just recently you realized that this uh, arrangement, has gone to shit because you now have feelings for him. Am I following?”
You pursed your lips into a tight line, “Pretty much.”
He nodded and hummed in concentration, “Okay, but what changed? What made you realize you had feelings? Because to the rest of the team, it still looks like you’re at each other's throats.” Gaz said, crossing his arms.
You thought about it for a moment, trying to pull maybe a specific event from your memory. “I guess it just kinda built up…I mean he just changed. Sure we still fight but it’s more like banter now. He kisses me, and he holds me, he's funny and sweet…it's almost like I get to see an entirely new version of him that I just didn't see before.”
Gaz blinked at you, seemingly surprised. “Actually?” He said, stunned. To which you nodded aggressively.
“Yes- he's totally done a 180. But in a good way, he's still the same asshole but he's loving and caring too. And I feel like I'm pulling my teeth out just staying in a situation where he makes me feel like I mean so much, but then I have to go and pretend I hate him.” (you still sometimes did.)
Gaz listened to you speak, holding his chin while he thought about your words. After you were done, all he could do was sigh, “Well…shit. Half of me wants to pat you on the back while the other half wants to slap you across the face for being stupid.”
You scrunched your nose, holding your hands up in surrender. “Please don't, I have enough problems as it is. I don't need to add a black eye into the mix.”
Gaz breathed an amused laugh, though, it sounded more weary than you would've liked. Even if it was the worst idea in the world to tell him, you felt better now that it was off your chest. You looked down at the table, “So, what do I do now?”
He opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was silence. He was just as lost as you were.
You looked at him hopelessly, “Come on man, give me something.”
Gaz looked down at the table, pursing his lips in a tight line. Obviously, he had an idea, but he just wasn't saying anything. “What if you tried to make it work with him?” He proposed.
Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth hanging open in what only could be described as ‘gobsmacked.’ “You're kidding right?” You asked, your tone nearly laughable.
He shook his head, crumbling up the wrapper of his protein bar and tossing it into a nearby trashcan. His shoulders rose with a sigh, “No I'm not. I mean… why not just try? It sounds to me like you've got a fighting chance to make things work.” He said encouragingly.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, your eyes squeezing shut. “Two minutes ago you said you wanted to slap me, and now you're telling me that I should go for it?” You said incredulous.
Gaz held his hands up in surrender, “Yes, but that was before I knew everything. I just thought you were fucking the Captain at first, which is still completely idiotic. But it sounds to me like both of you are emotionally invested in each other.” He said putting his hands back down, “-And you're only here for a couple more months right? Just keep it on the down-low then you can do whatever you want. I'm like ninety percent sure that Price likes you too.”
You groaned, your head falling on the table with a clunk. “Only ninety percent?” Peeking up to look at him, his face morphing into one of scrunched wash cloth.
“Maybe like eighty-five. But those are still good odds in my book.” He said guiltily, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You're not helping.” You sighed, resuming your dramatic pity party. Gaz rolled his eyes at your antics, placing a comforting hand on your head and giving it an encouraging pat. “Hey, I'm not saying you have to do some big confession. All I'm doing is suggesting that communicating with him may bring some good. Like Soap said that one time, Price acts differently around you, I think you've got some good chances.”
You finally looked up at him again, his face a pitying smile. “Think about it.” He said finally, leaving you with more on your mind than you originally started with.
“Okay, I'll think about it.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Four months to go and nothing had happened. Well, not necessarily, the team had continued to train, your sneaking around with Price was still going, and the world kept spinning. Turns out that realizing one's feelings for another doesn't cause the sun to explode. Fascinating stuff.
However, there was still no confession of feelings of any kind. The two of you danced around your ‘relationship’ like it was a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. Maybe it was for the greater good, some things were just better off unsaid.
In the meantime, your focus had shifted in light of new events that were fast approaching. You still cringed thinking of your first real mission back in Urzik, and while nothing horrible happened, it still left you with a sour taste on your tongue. There were small things 141 had been doing but now a new mission was right around the corner. There was still little to no word about rouge commander Shepard nor an explanation of the abandoned facility you had raided months back.
You still didn't even know if the two were connected, probably not. But it was still possible, maybe best not to think too hard about it. After all, you weren't the brains behind the operations, you were just the pon they sent to die in their place.
The air around 141 had become tense again, much like before Urzik. Everyone was on edge, especially Price. You were happy to take the edge off most of the time, but there were some things that sex just couldn't fix. And this fell into that category.
You were sitting on an office chair in one of the conference rooms around base. The rest of the team stood close to the large wooden table or sat in the other scattered chairs. The tension in the room was thick, nobody said a word. All focus was on Price, who stood a few feet apart from the group, flipping through a manilla folder. His eyebrows furrowed in tension and his lips pulled into a subtle frown.
He set the folder down, “We’re going back to Urzik.”
You could almost feel the shift in the mood from bad to worse. But before you could voice your complaints Soap beat you to it. “We’re going back to that shite hole? After what happened last time I would have assumed someone figured out that we should stay out of the terrorists and the Russians assholes.”
Price sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “We don't know if they were terrorists back at the compound. And Urzik hasn't been under Russian occupation since 2019.” He said, earning a half laugh from both Soap and Ghost.
“Come on Cap, you don't even believe that crap they're pushing.” Soap chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the wall behind you.
While it was true that Urzikstan had been liberated from Russian rule, some of the men under General Markov’s command had disappeared after his death. Leaving some loose ends for the CIA and SAS to clean up. There had been some word of Markov’s men teaming up with local militant groups who despised Urzik’s central government. But it wasn't confirmed, nor viable.
Price shook his head, “It doesn't matter if I believe it or not. The point is that we have a job to do and we’re not going to let past affairs get the better of our judgment.” He ran his hand over the scruff of his beard, “-Laswell wouldn't be sending us in again if she didn't have a good reason to. They have reasonable intel that just outside of Riyzabbi there's an abandoned bazaar where all of the goods from the compound were relocated.”
Ghost chimed in, “So they're sending us on the same wild goose chase they did before? Who's to say they don't pull the same shite as last time?”
You nodded along with his words, he had a point. Price grunted, waving him off. “Like I said before, they have better intel. I'm asking you to trust me, if I see anything I don't like we’re out. Whatever is in there, we have the means to put it to an end.”
Everyone fell silent, taking in the information. It was a while before anyone spoke again, Soap sighed. “If I have to eat that awful food back at checkpoint base I’m quitting on the spot.”
For a second the mood shifted, and you laughed, but the reality of the situation was hovering over you like a looming storm cloud.
For a brief moment, you locked eyes with Price, and his stare told you everything you needed to know. He was just as frustrated, if not more so. His gaze shifted again, staring down at the table with an intensity you couldn't fathom. “Everyone’s dismissed. We leave at 0500 in 72 hours.”
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
As Price said, 72 hours later, you were back in the air, flying to Urzikstan. An ache gnawed at the back of your head, making the already dreary ride more depressing. You were too uncomfortable to sleep and too tired to stay awake. Creating an odd out-of-body experience that you had the “pleasure” of basking in for the whole 5-hour flight.
After you had landed at the checkpoint base you took a moment to reacquaint yourself with the landscape. Not much had changed aside from a few new tents and other minor additions to the camp. You felt a sense of Deja Vu looking at the old dining hall tent and medical area. Memories from your and Price’s first kiss flooded your mind, under different circumstances, it might have been somewhat pleasant recounting the moment. But now, it only made you feel profoundly sad. It was nostalgic-back when everything was simpler between the two of you.
Whatever was bubbling up inside you, you shoved it down as far as it could go. Hating someone was a lot more straightforward than loving them.
You made your way to the ‘barracks,’ setting what little things you had onto the small cot. Everyone else was just as miserable as you were, obviously, this wasn't their first choice for sleeping quarters. A part of you wished it wasn't daytime, it would be easier to sleep away the anxiety and headache.
You had until dark to do as you pleased, when nightfall came, you were going to be loaded up into the trucks again. From there, you'd go to Riyzabbi, and once it was clear to do so, to the bazaar.
Just like the last time you were here, you felt a deep sense of dread. One that you couldn't pinpoint, nor could you explain away with ‘just nerves’. There was too much that you didn't know, and too little payoff. The only advantage 141 had was the element of surprise, and even that wasn't confirmed. A small part of you felt anger towards Laswell, she probably knew that there was something off about this mission, and yet she was sending you and the team directly into the pit of lions.
To quell the sense of impending doom, you started to wander around the checkpoint base. Not sure where you were going or what your end goal was, you continued walking. That was until you heard someone's voice bleeding out from one of the tent walls. Their tone was accusatory, malicious even, it was laced with so much venom you could feel your skin recoil. It didn't sound familiar, but the voice who came after it did.
“You know just as well as I do it's a suicide mission. I’m not sending my team out there to die. All for some fucking game of territory monopoly and protecting Shepard.”
Price.
The other voice spoke up again, seemingly more agitated than the first time if that was possible. “Shepard is gone, and he sure as hell isn't going to be here in Urzik. And It's not a suicide mission. The CIA hired your team to do a job, not back out when things get real. Your opinion on how the government deals with involvement concerning foreign enemy affairs has no merit, Captain. If it were up to me, your team wouldn't even be here, but Kate Laswell keeps you on a tight leash doesn't she?”
You heard a loud bang, akin to a hard fist being slammed onto flat wood. “Watch your mouth. You and your muppets can both go crawl back under the CIA’s boot. As for Laswell, you know just as well as I do she would be more than happy to bring you and rouge commander Shepard's previous associations to the attention of your government.”
There was silence for a beat. Suddenly you could feel your heart beating, pounding in your chest. Your fingers felt numb, and even time seemed to slow. You could say with 100% certainty that you were not supposed to be listening, you weren't even sure if you wanted to keep listening. You heard footsteps coming from the inside, in your peripheral vision, you caught the slight rustle of the tent door. Without thought you jumped out of sight, pressing yourself to the side of the tent just as a man stormed out.
You watched the back of his head as he muttered something, you held your breath. After a good minute, you exhaled, silently creeping out from where you stood. Something in you was telling you to leave, to pretend you had never heard what you did. But there was a magnetic pull that drew you back into Price.
Carefully, you peeked your head through the tent door. A few feet away was Price, his back was turned with his hand over his face, the other on his hip. Before you could speak he turned around to see you, his eyes growing twice the size. Time seemed to freeze for a second time, you watched his eyes go from surprise to anger, and then to exhaustion. By the look on your face, he most likely already knew what you were hiding.
“How much did you hear?” He sighed, rubbing his hand over his cheek.
You walked into the tent, standing awkwardly in front of the door. “Just the last part.” You confessed, swallowing what little bravery you had left.
Price didn't respond, his hand moving over his eyes to rub and smooth over his temples. His cheeks pulled in as he bit the inside of his mouth. “Right… well, I'm sorry you had to hear that.” He breathed, his voice more weary. A stark contrast to the raw anger you heard from him a few moments prior.
You shook your head, “Don't be sorry. At first, I was mad at you and Laswell for going through with this. But… I guess after that, I know you didn't want to either.” You tried your best to form a semblance of hope, giving him a drained smile. “Like you said, this mission is fucking suicide. But if anyone can lead the team and somehow come out alive, it's you.”
There was a flash of something in Price’s eyes, it was the same thing that you saw back on your walk with him months prior. You glanced down at his hands, watching the way they flexed. Like he was aching to hold, to touch something. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, “I’m sorry.” He breathed, “-I’m sorry that I'm putting you and the guys in this situation.”
Price’s hand came back up, dragging it across the side of his face. His eyes shut tight, eyebrows knit together. “It's just…the longer I stay here, doing this, the more it's clear to me none of it was for a greater good. And I don't want that for you.” He sighed, “-I…I want you to know there is a way out [Name]. You don't have to continue to do this.”
This made you draw back, Price had never sounded like this before. He sounded like he was already admitting defeat, and like he was giving you a chance to escape what you chose to do. Your eyebrows furrowed, marching straight up to him with your lips twisted in a frown. You reached up to pull his hand away from his face, your other hand reaching up to cup his cheek with your hand. Your palm pressed against his jaw, feeling the rough bristle of his beard under the pads of your fingers. Forcing him to look at you.
“Don’t do that.” You said sternly, making his eyes snap back. Looking at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “-Don’t act like everything is already set in stone, we don't know what's going to happen. It could go bad but it could also be fine. And you're also acting like I didn't choose to be here, I'm willing to do this job Price. Just because I don't like what shady shit someone is doing behind the scenes doesn't mean I'm going to back out.”
Price stared at you, and you stared back. Willing him to understand that you had hope for him, you had hope for the team. Maybe it was stupid to try and be strong, but if you didn't try, you'd be giving up too.
You couldn't leave, not now. Not when you had a reason to stay. As much as you hated the idea of someone sending you into a death trap, the only thing you hated even more would be leaving Price to go into said death trap. You couldn't pry yourself away from him even if you tried. Your hand squeezed his, I love you, the gesture said.
Price squeezed your hand back, “[Name], I-” I love you, his eyes said. You shook your head, staring back at him with the same intensity.
“I know.” You breathed back. You couldn't stand it, you wanted to hear the words from his mouth. You wanted it with everything in you, but this was probably the worst time you could think of to confess. So, you settled for a mutual understanding. A silent promise, that when you came back maybe things could be different.
There was another beat before he leaned in, and like an idiot, you let it happen. Your hand tightened slightly against his cheek, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed you. His lips were warm, and you sighed into his mouth as you got a taste of him. His mouth that tasted like smoke and whiskey, and you yearned for more. His body was charged with an electricity that sent shivers down your spine. Every brush, touch, and groan had you on edge.
Before you knew it, he was pushing you up against the table that sat in the middle of the room. Your hand slid down from his face to fist into his shirt as you were slowly backed against the wood. You should've pushed him off, it was too risky to be doing this now. It was mid-day for fucks sake, not only that but anyone could walk into the tent.
Yet something about the tension, exposed and raw like an open cable wire, held you back from protesting. Hell, if this was the last time you were going to see him outside of the field, mind as well go out with a bang (literally).
Price must've come to the same conclusion by the way he sat you down on the table, standing in between your parted thighs. His breath was heavy and his lips slick, taking you in with his eyes. “Fuckin’ Christ love, you're a vision. I don't say it enough, but you're gorgeous.” He murmured, breathless.
You felt your cheeks go hot, the warmth seeping up into your ears. Taking compliments was never your strong suit. Price pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his hands moving from your waist to the belt and zipper of your pants. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “Baby lay back for me.”
Well with that voice, you couldn't bear to not comply. You hesitantly lowered your back onto the flat wood of the table. Propping yourself on your elbows, watching as Price slowly pulled your pants down to reveal your undergarments. His eyes flickered to you then back to your covered pussy, an insatiable hunger in those pools of navy blue. He lowered to his knees, hooking your thighs under his biceps. Price pressed a few soft nips and kisses to the burning skin of your inner thighs, earning a few soft gasps on your part.
Your nails scraped against the wood, biting down on your lip to keep your voice down. With one hand, Price hooked his finger against the fabric of your panties, parting it to the side to show your soaked cunt. A small groan left him at the sight of you, he glanced back at you. “You’re gonna be quiet now right?”
Without a thought behind it, you nodded. Desperate to have his mouth on you, he leaned in, flattening his tongue to lick a long stripe up your folds. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering for a moment. When he started to swirl his tongue over your clit, you almost broke. “Price-” You gasped out, your voice a whisper.
He hummed against your cunt, suctioning his mouth against your clit. “No Price here, we’re far past that love. Use my name baby, use my name and I'll listen.” He murmured, the vibrations of his voice making your mind dizzy. One of your hands threaded into his short hair, guiding his face against your pussy.
“Fuck- John, feels good. Feels so good.” You whispered, your voice almost a mewl. His dull nails dug into the meat of your thigh, groaning softly as he lapped at your weeping cunt. Your eyes squeezed shut, all of your concentration honing in on trying not to moan out loud.
His tongue switched between fast flicks of your clit and drawn-out open-mouthed kisses to your mound. When you got more desperate you guided him to where you wanted, and John was happy to oblige.
Your back was now flat on the table, thighs locked around Price’s head like a boa constrictor. Your voice was now silent moans and labored breaths, and with every passing moment, it was harder to stay quiet. Your nails tugged at his hair, gripping onto him like a lifeline. John suddenly pushed his tongue into your hole without warning, pushing the tip of the muscle in and out with vigor. You nearly screamed, slapping a hand over your mouth to bite on your knuckle.
Price was devouring you like a man starving.
Your back arched off the wood of the table, methodically moving your hips in tandem with his tongues movements. The slurry of noises coming from John’s mouth and your cunt was obscene. Wet smacks of his lips mixed with small groans and deep gasps.
It felt like you were floating, your senses muddied beneath the feeling of his mouth. Your body was burning, a coil in your stomach just begging to snap. You bucked your hips into his face, begging him to quell the fires raging in your body. Price seemed to catch on, he held one of your thighs tight while the other slid between your legs. His mouth hovering over your pussy, he slipped a digit into your aching cunt.
You silently cried out, your core tightly gripping his finger as he curled it inside you. Then, he slowly worked in a second, mimicking the ‘come here’ motion with his fingers buried deep in your pussy. “Atta’ girl, little longer for me.” John breathed against you, his breath fanning against your cunt.
Suddenly he was on you again, swirling his tongue over your swollen bud while curling his digits in you. You could have died happy then and there, everything felt so good you couldn't think. Your nails dug into the table, marking it with long stripes.
Between his fingers and his tongue, you were a goner. Your vision went white, trying your hardest not to scream out to the heavens. “John- shit I can’t I'm gonna cum.” You whined through heavy pants, tears pooling in the corner of your iris from the stimulation.
“Come on then, cum for me. Let go love, cum on my mouth.” He murmured against your sopping pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit and speeding the movement of his fingers.
That was all it took before you came, hard. Your back arched and your head fell back, biting down on your hand so hard that it hurt. Your thighs shook as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and mind-blowing. And John fucked you through it, never letting up on his page until you fell limp like a bag of flour. After those precious few moments, he gently slid his fingers from your cunt. Pressing a soft kiss to your thigh before setting it down slowly.
You were gone. Your brain turned to mush, a daze of post-orgasm exhaustion and giddiness. Slowly you blinked your eyes back open, letting John slowly guide you back to a sitting position. He held the small of your back while his other hand held your face.
“You alright?” John murmured, his mouth shiny with your slick. You couldn't help but laugh, your forehead hitting his lightly.
“Yeah, yeah, I'm alright.” You breathed. The after-glow hit you hard, but there was still the looming anxiety of the mission. You knew the moment wouldn't last forever, you just hoped you could bask in it a little longer.
John sensed the shift, knowing it was his turn to be brave, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His eyes soft, “Hey, like you said, we’re gonna be okay. Nothing is set in stone yet.” He whispered, making you nod.
“Right. We’re going to come out of this.” You said, more for yourself. He nodded, the both of you knew deep down it was wishful thinking. But maybe having something to hope for, something to come back to, would push you to fight even harder to keep it.
And in the end, you were willing to do anything to keep this.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Everything around you was dark, with an air pungent with dust and grime. The walls only grew bigger and shadowed as you passed, ducking behind doors and boxes to remain out of sight. Just like last time everyone was paired in either a group of two or three, you were with Ghost. You had to give him credit where credit was due, as large and burly as he was, he was silent as he moved.
The bazaar was large, with huge openings in the ceilings covered by hanging fabric. Open doors that connected rooms and massive lamps draped from the walls. It might've even been nice had it not been for its years of inactivity, and under the cover of night, it was simply eerie. Wires covered the walls and ceiling, some even hanging down low enough to snag someone if you weren't careful.
You weren't quite sure what exactly you were looking for, after all, you didn't know what this aforementioned ‘bio-chemical lab’ looked like. And if it was easily portable, it wouldn't exactly look like your standard chemistry lab.
“[Name].”
Ghost spoke into your headpiece, standing several feet away. You snapped out of your train of thought, looking back at him.
“Let’s get a move on, the others are on the top floor. I'm guessing it’s near the bottom, or even underground, be on high alert. There's bound to be people this time around.” He said, earning a nod from your end.
With that, you made your way further into the bazaar. Gun at the ready, you weaved through rooms and piles of storage and other junk. When you got to a large room on the north side of the building, tucked away between rubble and containers your body tensed. There wasn't anything unordinary about it, it looked exactly like every other room, but something felt off. A few steps into the space and you had your explanation for the uneasiness you felt.
With an odd thunk’ of your boot on the ground, you looked back at Ghost. He looked back at you, the same expression on his face, it was hollow.
You came off it, brushing your foot over the area again to remove the grime and dust. It was a different color and texture than the ground. “Well I’ll be damned, you were right.” You breathed, “-Think this opens up from the outside?” Ghost kneeled on the ground next to whatever you found. Pushing his hand over it and sending small clouds of dust into the air.
“Doesn't matter if it does.” He said, fishing out a knife from his bullet vest. Finding a dibet with his finger in the ground he wedged the blade in between the surface, pulling up until the ground lifted.
With a grunt, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of the trap door. Pulling until the structure revealed a human-sized rectangular hole in the ground. A latter peeking out from inside the ground pressed into the side of the dirt. You stared down at it, knowing this was it. Clicking your headpiece, you spoke, “Cap, we got something. Northside, ground floor, it’s a trap door in the last room.”
After a moment you got a response, “Copy. See what you can find, we’re coming. If you see anything don't think, just shoot. I want you and Ghost alive.” Price’s voice rang loud and clear in your ear.
With a nod, you looked back down at the hole, even with night vision, it was hard to make out the bottom. Ghost was the first to go down, with you following suit the minute he gave the all-clear to come down. Inside was dark and smelled like mildew, a tunnel leading further into the unknown. The same wires that hung down from up on the surface were strung about the dirt walls. It wasn't spacious in the tunnel, but it didn't make you feel claustrophobic.
Ghost raised his gun, nodding to you to follow as you made your way deeper. It wasn't long until you reached a door, it wasn't impenetrable by any means, but it was going to be a pain to get through. But the thing that caught your attention most was the faint light that peeked from the cracks of the hinges. Ghost looked at you, “Get back, and I’ll break the door, you follow in straight after and shoot at anything you see.”
As said, with a firm kick, Ghost kicked the door down. The metal swung open with a crackle, and with your gun at the ready, you quickly followed him inside. The first thing you heard was voices, panicked and deep. Your eyes met a man in the corner of the room, quickly scrambling up to his feet and reaching the rifle that lay in front of him. Just like you were told, you didn't think, you acted on instinct.
Your gun went off, and his body was forced back by the blow. Blood spattered the wall behind him, his head rolling limp on his shoulders. You heard another shot fired, looking over to Ghost who was in firing position, and then to the direction of his rifle. Another body, this one standing, keeled over onto the floor, pooling red onto the ground. A deafening silence followed after, you waited for more voices but they never came.
“Just two?” You said, looking between the two. “-and they don't look local.” You muttered, focusing on the pale skin and European features. You looked back to Ghost who was standing a few feet away. “-Think they might be Russian like Soap said?”
Ghost shrugged, “It's possible.” He gruffed, looking around the room. It was emptier than you expected, with a table, lamps, flasks, and a few weapons. Another voice rang out from somewhere in the cavern before you could look any further. Coming from another hallway that you had missed when you first saw the room.
You quickly ran against the wall near the hallway entrance, pressing yourself into the hard surface so you wouldn't be seen. Ghost followed suit, and not a second later another man ran out, rifle in hand. And just like before you fired, watching the body hit the ground like a sac of potatoes.
This one looked like he could be from Urzik. You looked back at Ghost, who pushed off the wall, ducking into the hallway. It wasn't long before you entered a much bigger cavern, full of boxes and equipment. Open containers of guns with ammunition, tables covered with cylinder-shaped lab equipment. You could hardly classify this as a lab, more like a glorified basement with makeshift tools. Large computers also lined what little space they could occupy. Florescent overhead lights cast the room in a putrid dimish glow.
Before you had time to react a bullet brushed past your arm. Sending a burning shock through your system. You ducked, trying to avoid what you couldn't see.
“They're shooting!” You yelled out to Ghost, finding refuge in a large container that you hid behind.
You looked around, desperate to see where the firing was coming from. Your eyes caught three at first glance, one person across the room, hiding behind another container. Another fired from a doorway, and the last one hid behind a table. All three aiming for either your box of Ghost. Your hands held your gun with an iron grip, turning your knuckles white.
You peeked out from behind the container, aiming for the second guy in the doorway. Your first shot missed, but your second shot straight through his forehead. Ghost, from wherever he was, took out the third guy from behind the table. Leaving the one behind the other container, peaking back out you felt another bullet fly past you. You scrambled back, your heartbeat hammering in your chest.
You called out to Ghost, “I can't get him! You're gonna have to take the last one!” After another shot to your hiding place, chipping the wood of the contained, Ghost called back.
“Copy! I've got him!” He yelled, a final shot echoing through the cavern before everything fell into an eerie silence. You tentatively rounded the corner of the container, looking back at the first guy's hiding spot. When all you saw was his body flat on the ground, you breathed a sigh of relief.
You heard Ghost call to you again, “[Name], you hurt?” You stood up, looking over in the direction of his voice. He was behind one of the walls of the hallway, pressed against the dirt wall.
“No, I'm all good. You?” You said back, scanning him for any sign of injury. He shook his head, letting his gun fall to his side.
“I'm clear.” He said, walking out from the hallway. You looked back at the three bodies adorning the floor, which made six in total so far. These three also looked like they were locals, you walked over to one. Moving your foot to hover over their hand, you kicked the gun away, staring at the blackened tattoo on his palm. Before, Soap had mentioned that rebel groups in Urzik shared a tattoo on their palms. Much like a gang tattoo, it united them under a common collective.
You looked back at Ghost, “What do Urzik terrorists have to do with us? If this really is a problem with uprisings against their government, why would the SAS and the CIA get involved?”
Your mind flashed to the conversation between Price and the commander back at the checkpoint base. He had said that if it had been up to him, 141 would never have been involved. Laswell had been the one to push for the team's involvement, even with its potholes. Then came Shepard, whose disappearance had led to your involvement with the team in the beginning. The only link to this you had to Shepard was his name being mentioned back at base.
Jesus, your head hurt just trying to think about it.
Ghost walked over to you, “My advice wouldn't be to think too hard about it [Name]. We’re doing a job, thinking about shite like this leads into a bigger rabbit hole than you think.”
You nodded, a frown settling onto your lips. Nothing about this sat right with you, but that was the cost you paid for being here in the first place.
“The important thing is, we located the lab. Now we just make sure there's nobody else so someone else can pick up the mess over here.” He said, making you nod along with him. Price and the other guys would probably be down any minute, that would make clearing everything out a hell of a lot easier.
You looked back at the man on the ground, staring into the fleshy eyes that held no light. You were reminded of the compound, staring into the eyes of the man who had shot Price’s foot. You didn't feel sorry, more hollow.
Ghost turned his back, looking over to the entranceway hall. And the split second for him to turn around was all it took for something to go wrong all over again. With no warning, you felt something burn your side, sharp and hot like lava. A hand yanked you back, snaked around your neck, and held you back to something firm. You could barely choke out a gasp, the thorn in your side sending shocks of pain through your body you didn't even know was possible.
Something cold pressed against your temple, you could barely process what was happening before you heard a click. Ghost whipped around at the noise, immediately holding up his rifle to whatever was behind you.
For a brief moment, time stopped. You were all too familiar with what was happening, you were being held at gunpoint. Nobody moved, Ghost's voice suddenly echoing through the silent room. “Shepard. Let her go.” He said.
You blinked, Shepard? Fuck, you didn't see that coming. You thought maybe he had a small part in the involvement, but you didn't expect him to actually be here. You tried to look at him, but his arm around your throat only tightened, making you squirm. The thing in your side, most likely a knife, only seemed to hurt more the longer it was left sticking out of you.
“Drop your gun, and I will.” His voice was cold, it sounded like sandpaper. His breath made your nostrils recoil in disgust.
Ghost shook his head, his eyes darting between yours and the man holding you. “You and I both know that's not happening.” The barrel of the gun pressed into your skin harder, making you wince. Your hands clawing at his arm to pry him off your neck.
“If you don't drop that gun, I will kill this one. And that's a promise.” He said, your body felt numb, and the lack of oxygen only seemed to make you all the weaker. You heard voices from beyond the hallway, your mind screaming for John. You needed him, you needed him to come and fix the mess you had gotten yourself into. Being a hostage was by far your least favorite activity.
Ghost swallowed, still pointing his gun at Shepard. “Shepherd, it's in your best interest that you let her go. You're not getting out of this, you know that. You shoot her and it’s just another kill added to your list of crimes, let’s not lengthen that sentence.”
Shepard snarled, “I'll be damned if I'm sent to prison, we can do this all-day lieutenant. You pull that trigger, and I fire. If you put the gun down, maybe we can negotiate something.”
You tried gasping for air, your airways closing up. Nails clawing at his shirt, like a caged animal trying to get out of its enclosure. From your squinted eyes you could make out the form of Price, Gaz, and Soap entering the room, guns at the ready. The pain in your side fired back up again as the blade twisted, making you yelp.
“Shepherd put the fucking gun down!” You absentmindedly recognized John's voice, your vision growing fuzzier by the second.
You tried your best to fight, thinking of anything you could to stay conscious. You thought of your friends, family, and John. Between the knife in your side, the gun against your head, and his arms around your throat it was a miracle you could even think. You blinked again, gasping for more air. You saw Ghost and Price, Soap a few feet away, Gaz must've been somewhere in the room as well.
“Get back or she's dead!” Shepard barked, his voice ringing in your ear. You saw blotches of black in your vision, your body slowly losing its feeling.
As you blacked out, you heard a gunshot fire.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
A white light flooded your vision, making your face scrunch up in discomfort. It was harsh and almost painful, you tried shutting your eyes as tight as they could go, but it was burned into your retinas.
Your limbs felt sluggish, you couldn't lift your arms. It seemed like you could only move your face, after another minute of trying to shut out the light, you gave up. Blinking your eyes open, you saw said white light hanging down from an even whiter ceiling.
“Holy shit, you're awake.” A female voice said, making you halt. You knew that voice, your eyes darted to the sound. Turing your head from its apparent, laying position to follow your gaze. Your eyes met an older woman, she had bangs and blondish hair.
“Laswell?” You croaked, your voice was shot. It sounded like a frog, making you internally cringe.
Kate Laswell stood at the foot of your bed, her hands grabbed at your arm. “Don’t talk [Name], the nurse said you shouldn't be using your voice for the next couple of days.” She scolded. You grunted, your throat felt as dry as the Sahara.
The pain slowly started to come back, a deep-seated ache that made you wince. “What happened?” You breathed. Your mind was fuzzy, the last thing you remembered was being in the bazaar and being held at gunpoint by Shepherd.
Laswell pursed her lips in a line, obviously not too thrilled about the events that transpired. “Well, John told me after you passed out they managed to disarm Shepard. But by that point, you were already gone, so they got you out. After that, you were transported to the checkpoint base and now you're in the hospital.”
You were following up until the hospital part, last time you checked, the checkpoint base didn't have a full-fledged hospital. “Hospital where?” You croaked, looking at Laswell for an answer.
“D.C,” She said plainly, almost like it was obvious. “It was the easiest place I would be able to keep an eye on you until you woke up.”
You barely had the energy to be surprised, “Oh.” Was what you settled on. “Where is the rest of the team?” You asked.
She sighed, “John is here. Garrick and Ghost are still in Urzik for another day, they have other matters they need to sort out first. Soap also came here with you, though he's not in the hospital.”
You nodded along, a small part of you relaxed when you heard John's name. He was here, which meant he was most likely safe. Your eyes closed, “oh, good then.” You sighed, your voice a whisper. Any louder and it would sound like your vocal cords were being torn to ribbons.
Laswell looked down at you, a sadness in her eyes. Almost guilt, “[Name].” She said, grabbing your attention again, “-I’m pulling you off the team early.”
You froze, your eyes doubling in size. Maybe you misheard her, 141 was your family, she couldn't just pull you off. You still had a few more months with them! “What? Why?” You asked throatily.
She looked at you incredulously, “Because you almost died. Honestly, it was my fault in the beginning, I shouldn't have put you in the situation.” Your eyes narrowed, you tried to sit up but she placed a firm hand on your chest to keep you from doing so.
“Laswell, I’m fine. I don't need to be taken off 141, everyone in the world has probably had a near-death experience.” You protested, “-I want to keep being on the team, I know at first I was only doing this as a favor but I'm not anymore.”
Laswell looked at you, a bit stunned. Her eyes stared into yours, deciphering if you were really telling the truth. “Are you sure? I was only going to do it because I believed that is what’s in your best interest. But are you positive this is what you want? Even after what happened?”
You stared back at her, determined as ever. “I'm positive.”
There was a beat of silence before Laswell sighed, rubbing her face. “Okay,” she breathed. “But you're still not allowed to participate in anything until you're fully healed.” Your demeanor relaxed again, almost sinking into the mattress. It was a win, a small one, but a win nonetheless.
You looked back at her, “You said Price was here right?” You asked, trying your best to hide the eagerness in your tone.
She nodded, “Yes, he's outside. He's been coming with me to check on you.”
You could've run out of bed at that exact moment, from the first minute you'd woken up he was occupying half of your thoughts. “Could I talk to him…?” You asked, trying to disguise your desperation.
Laswell gave you a pointed look, obviously, she knew more than what she was letting on. “You have ten minutes, then I'm pulling him out so you can get more rest.”
You thanked her profusely, waiting in anticipation for John to walk through the door. You shimmied up into a sitting position, trying not to irritate the stitches in your side. After a minute, your captain walked through the door. His hair was a bit tousled, and his beard had been trimmed, but there were large bags under his blue eyes. Clad in an army-green cotton shirt with jeans. He was a sight for sore eyes that was for sure.
After a minute of staring he bolted across the room, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His hand holding the back of your head to his chest and his other arm wrapped around your back. You weakly tried to hug him back, inhaling his scent.
“You have no idea how worried I was.” He breathed, pulling away to get a good look at your face. His hands cupped your jaw like a precious jewel. You smiled, laughing to the best of your ability.
“Well, I'm alive. That's saying something.” You breathed, taking him in. You’d barely spent any time away from him, yet you missed him, you needed his presence like you needed air. “Nobody can kill me that easy, not even Shepard.”
He looked at you, unimpressed by your attitude, “I wouldn't boast your level of confidence for someone in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned. You simply waved him off, but a question popped into your mind before you could say anything.
“Hey, what was Shepherd doing there anyway? I know you mentioned him earlier but I still don't understand why he was involved.” You asked, making him sigh.
John rubbed his neck, leaning back a little from his position. “If I'm being honest? I don't know either, I had a feeling he would be there but I wasn't positive. My best guess would be that he probably got involved with Markov's goons after he went rogue. After they must've teamed with underground gangs to keep tabs on what the CIA was up to.” He looked back at you, “A few people from the inside still had communication with him, that was most likely how we got the tip-off that he was in Urzik.”
You hummed, mostly glad you could put Urzik behind you. It was over and that was all that mattered, “So what happens now?” You asked.
Price raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“What happens now that you caught him?” You clarified. Staring at him curious.
John shrugged, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Well Shepherd is dead, he died during the altercation back in Riyzabbi. As for the team, we go back to normal. A few people who had relations with Shepherd are being tried in international court for unauthorized communication with enemies. But that's it, as far as I know.”
You hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut. Basking in the feel of his thumb against your skin, “Mm, and us…?” You asked, feeling a bit brave.
You felt him halt, “Well, you obviously know we can't exactly be public about this.” You opened your eyes back up to him, “-But, I don't think I can really deny what I feel for you.”
Your lips curled into a warm smile, one that seemed to say ‘I love you.’ John traced the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, ‘I love you’ the gesture said.
“I love you.” You said, unable to hold yourself back from uttering the words any longer.
John smiled, “I love you too.”
Pulling you in for a chaste kiss, you smiled against his lips. Your nose brushed his, his eyelashes tickling your skin.
You were going to be just fine.
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
Hey, don't go!
Okay first things first, I want to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reposted, or send me kind messages on my last post. I never thought I would reach 1,000 likes but you guys work miracles! It literally means the world to me.
Second, so sorry for the long wait. I know it was awhile but I’m balancing my classes, social life, and my writing so it gets hectic sometimes. But I appreciate you for having patience in me, I want to ask if you would be so kind as to like, repost, or leave a comment! It really helps, more than you know.
Lastly, you definitely haven’t seen the last of me yet. There is more content coming! It might take a bit but I am working hard to please you ;) and with that I hope you enjoyed Captains Girl Part II, I love you all! Toodles ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ 💕
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
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.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
Part I of… Captains Girl: ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Thank you
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・.
#call of duty#cod mw2#fictional men#smut#cod smut#enemies to lovers#military#fanfic#ghost call of duty#fandom#captain john price#john price#captain price#john price x reader#slow burn#kyle gaz garrick#simon riley#john soap mactavish#cod fic#cod fanfic#enemies to friends to lovers#part two#konig cod#new post#konig call of duty
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Rutger asks Stella to go to the hockey formal with him even though they are together, but no one knows yet. She goes and all the hockey guys are confused because she said she couldn’t come but now she’s there
౨ৎ we’re just really good friends!
── ୨୧ 𝓹airing : Estella Hughes (oc) x Rutger McGroarty
˖ ་ details ( g; fluff, humor?, suggestive ; lots of kissing. wc; 5,858 )
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I can’t believe this is the longest fic I’ve written for this au omggg, this honestly has taken me way to long to finish so i apologize to the sweet anon who sent this to me!! I hope you guys enjoy it mwah 💗 )
au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!
°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚。⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!
“At this rate you should just write the paper for me” Mark groaned as he dramatically dropped his face in the book he has been reading for the past hour, his hat comically falling off his head when the brim hits against the dark brown wood table. Stella looks up from her sketchbook and pauses the sketching she had for homework, rolling her eyes at her friend's dramatics before responding teasingly “How much are you gonna pay me?”
“Wait really? ⸺ what's your price?” Mark rushed out his question after he quickly snapped his head up to look at the smiling girl. Stella was surprised she didn’t hear the sound of his neck snapping from his quick movement. Mark rolled his eyes and turned his head to give the guy who shushed him a few tables away a fake smile before looking back at Stella, his eyes begging her to write the paper for him.
“I was joking, now keep reading and be quiet before you get us kicked out . . . again” Stella trailed off to a whisper as she looked back on the memory of her freshman year. Alongside her best friends Lily and Carmen where holding a study group, her brother Luke and their friends Mark, Dylan and Adam decided to join them. It ended with one grumpy librarian and a non-stop giggling mark and Dylan.
“We both know that it was duker’s fault not mine” Mark grumpily muttered as he loudly flipped to another page. Stella giggled and softly bit the cap of her pen before pulling out a pad of sticky notes from her book bag and writing down a few words on the light pink paper. She swiftly pulled the sticky note off the top and smacked it on one of the pages of his notebook. Stella gives mark a smile once he looked up from the book “Make sure to incorporate those words, it'll make you look smarter”
“Awe well look, aren't you two just the cutest little nerds ever” Someone cooed from behind them, both Stella and Mark turning their heads to see who it was even though they already knew from the voice. Walking towards the circle table they were sitting at, was a grinning Ethan. Luca and Rutger trailing behind him. Mark laughed sarcastically before muttering under his breath “Dick”
Stella giggled and greeted the three boys with a smile and a small hello, her eyes lingering on one longer than the others. The couple locked eyes and Rutgers' smile turned into a grin at the sight of his girlfriend, she looked so adorable with one of her knees pulled up to her chest in the chair, clad in gray sweatpants, a few sizes too big brown sweater and her ugg slippers. Her hair in her braid pigtails, tied off with her signature ribbon bows.
It had been a few days since the couple had seen each other, both of them being busy with practices and Stella with extra studying. Ethan takes the seat on Mark's other side that Stella wasn't sitting on and before rutger could claim the empty seat next to his girlfriend, luca was already plopping down in the seat. Luca playfully tugged on one of Stella's pigtails before reaching for the Tupperware of cut up strawberries and cherries Stella brought for her and mark.
“Yeah sure, feel free to help yourself” Stella smiled sarcastically as she watched him open the Tupperware and shove a few berries in his mouth. Rutger took the seat between ethan and luca, now almost sitting directly in front of stella. Rutger reluctantly tore his eyes away from Stella who was laughing with Luca, not wanting to be caught staring at her like a lovesick fool he knew he was. Rutger turned his attention to Ethan when he started talking. “So, what are we all doing on Friday? Maybe we could all go see a movie?”
“I can't, I have my suit fitting for the formal” Mark sighs as he closes his books and shoves them into his backpack, knowing that himself and Stella won't get any more studying done with the presence of the three yappers. Ethan raises his eyebrows in shock and lets out a shocked laugh at his friend's confession “There’s no way you waited until the day before the formal to do that”
“Speaking of the formal, are you going stella?” Luca asked the girl who started packing up her sketchbook, multiple books and pens into her book bag. Stella looked up from her bag and thought for a moment, last year she had gone with Luke as his plus one and had a great time. By the time Luke had taken her back to her dorm, her sides hurt from all the laughs she had, her feet hurt from all the dancing, and her stomach hurt from all the cake she had eaten with Adam and Ethan.
She absentmindedly formed a small frown the more she thought about how much fun she had that night with her brother. But Luke wasn't here anymore, there was no point for her to go. Stella continued to pack her things, and shrugged her shoulders “No, why would I be going?”
All the boy's frown at her strange tone, they all could see that she missed her brother. Rutgers frown was deeper, he really wanted her to go. He remembered seeing her at last year's formal, they were already friends, but he was still so nervous to go up and talk to her, especially with how pretty she looked in that green dress. Ethan raises his eyebrow in shock “You haven't been asked?”
“And who's going to ask me hmm? You guys and my brother scared off the rest of the hockey team from even looking at me for too long” Stella questioned Ethan as she rested her elbow on the wood table and her chin on the palm of her hand. Besides I would have said no anyway, she wanted to add as she glanced at rutger who was already staring at her.
“It’s not going to be the same without you there” Luca frowned as he looked at Stella, he had a lot of fun with her at the last formal and he was really looking forward to her coming again. Stella gave them a cheeky smile and shrugged her shoulders playfully “You’ll survive”
“Listen ma, i'll give you all i got, get me off of this” The sound of stella’s favorite the weekend song ‘wicked games’ filled the silence of stella’s dorm, accompanied with the sound of lips moving lewdly against each other, and the shuffling of clothes and sheets. Stella pulled away from his addicting lips and quickly attached her lips to his neck, sucking and kissing just enough to where it wouldn't leave marks that would come with questions.
“Fuckk stell” he groaned in pleasure as he tilted his head back against the soft pillows, giving her even more room to litter kisses and love bites across his neck and collar bone. He tried to focus on the feeling of her lips on his hot skin and the feeling of her body against his, but all his mind could do was replay the conversation they had at the library yesterday.
He didn't know why it was affecting him so much, the fact that she wasn't going to be going to the formal ⸺ Okay maybe he did know why it was affecting him so much. He had to go, and he didn't want to go alone . . . he wanted to go with his girlfriend. His Girlfriend that no one knows about. Maybe the fact that their secret was holding them back from enjoying a night out with their friends is what was bothering him so much.
“Wait wait wait” rutger panted out as he gripped her hips tighter, gently pulling away from her lips. Stella pulls away with a small look of confusion, resting her palm on the pillow next to his head, her brown locks cascading around them.
A pout comes across her swollen lips from all the kissing, when she sees the frown on his lips, the look in his eyes letting her know he was thinking hard about something “Hmm, everything okay?”
“Were you serious about not wanting to go to the formal?” Rutger quickly blurted out as he sat back up on his elbows as he looked up at her. Stella sat up and rested her hands on his chest, her chest rising and falling fast as she tried to catch her breath, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the sudden question “What?”
“The formal, do you really not want to go?” Rutger repeated his question with a frown, his hands falling to rest on her bare thighs, his thumbs absentmindedly fidgeting with the seam of her sleep shorts as he waited for her answer. The formal is a big deal, and he just really wanted to go with her, not with anyone else, not alone, but with her.
“It's, it's not that i don't want to go, i just don't have anyone to go with and i can't exactly just go by my ⸺”
“Go with me . . . please” Rutger cut off Stella's rant, his voice trailing off into a desperate whisper. His eyes were pleading for her to say yes. Stella froze for a moment, her shoulders sagging and the rubbing her thumbs were doing on his chest stopped as she took in his question.
“Rut” stella whispered with a sigh as she moved to get off his lap, instead moving to sit by his side on the bed. Her hands fall in her lap as she tries to find the words and gather her thoughts. Going to the formal together was a lot . . . especially since they were very much a secret. She didn't want to disappoint him and say no, but she also wasn't ready for people to find out about them.
Rutger could see the look on her face, she was getting lost in her thoughts, her nose doing that cute scrunch when she started to get overwhelmed. Rutger quickly sat up and moved closer to her, one of his hands moving some of her hair out of her face, while the other softly cupped her jaw to make her look at him as he whispered softly “I know we're not ready for everyone to find out about us, but we can go as just friends, no one will suspect a thing”
Stella looked into her boyfriend's eyes and leaned against his hand that was softly holding her cheek, as she thought on his words. It wasn't a secret to anyone that Stella and rutger became closer, everyone just thought of them as good friends, so going to a formal together wouldn't be so bad right? Like he said, no one would suspect a thing, just them being good friends!
Stella bit her lip anxiously before nodding faintly “Just as friends?”
“Just as friends,” he promised with a smile and a reassuring nod. He would make sure to come up with some fake excuse for them going together, rutger couldn't get a date and he didn't want Stella to spend the night alone while all her friends were out having a great time . . . which is the truth, in a way.
“You will have to keep your hands to yourself” Stella tried her best to sound stern as she poked his chest softly with her finger. Rutger chuckles and dramatically falls back on his back from the ‘strong’ poke. Stella giggles and rolls her eyes at her boyfriend's dramatics and moves to lay on her side, resting her head on her hand as she propped herself up on her elbow.
She watched as his eyes widened and a smile came across his pretty lips as he let her words sink in. Rutger turned to lay on his side, mirroring her position. Rutger rested his free hand on her waist and pulled her closer as he asked, “Does that mean you will go?”
“I would love to be your date to the formal rut” stella smiled sweetly, her heart fluttering in happiness when he breaks out into a big grin. A small squeal of surprises leaves her lips when rutger quickly but carefully pulls her down against him and locks her lips in a hard kiss. A moan leaves her lips from the fierce kiss, her hands tangling in his hair while he holds onto her waist, with the new position she was now straddling one of his thighs.
The kiss lasted for a few more moments, rutgers hands traveling her side while she softly tugged on the hair at his nape, a small grunt leaving his lips and stella took that as a chance to slowly pull away, rutger leaning up to connect their lips again but stella pulls away causing him to pout. Stella looks down at him with a serious look, worried that he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself at the formal “I’m serious, you have to be on your best behavior”
Rutger smiles cheekily and flexes his knee that she was straddling, a small gasp leaving her lips at the feeling, his hold on her hips tightening as he pushes her down against him, his eyes filled with mischief “When am I not?”
“Are you sure I look okay?” Stella asked for the fifth time as she looked at herself in her long mirror, turning around and tilting her head to look at her back. She was biting her lip anxiously as she stared at herself, she was overthinking everything. Her hair, her dress, her makeup, in her eyes nothing looked right.
“Babe, if rutger doesn't rip that dress off of you by the end of the night, I will” Lily flirted, looking up from the magazine she was reading to look at stella. The three best friends were in Stella's dorm, Lily and Carmen helping her get ready for the formal. Lily laid on her stomach on the bed while Carmen was looking through Stella's earrings to pick the perfect pair to match with the perfect dress she was wearing.
“You don't have to be so crude lils” Carmen scolds Lily with a small shake of her head as she looks down at the many different earrings Stella had laid out. She decided on a pretty pair of silver dangling earrings, she grabbed them and walked over to Stella, handing them to her with a smile so she could try them on.
“Shhh Stella loves when i talk dirty, right?” Lily teases as she locks eyes with the said girl through the mirror, giving her a dramatic wink. Camren rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at Lily's words and the way Stella looked as she put in the earrings, she looked beautiful.
“Oh yeah it makes me all gooey inside” stella was quick to tease right back with a smile. The girls could hear the underline of nervousness in her voice as she looked at herself in the mirror, they could see it in her eyes that her mind was running a mile a minute.
Carmen sighs, she hated seeing Stella so nervous and anxious, especially for something she should be excited about. She moved to stand behind her and softly rests her hand on the side of her arms before she rested her chin on stella’s shoulder, locking eyes with the nervous girl through the mirror as she spoke in a reassuring and sweet tone “You look beautiful Estella”
“Isn't she lily?” Carmen asked as she tilted her head to look back at the blonde on the bed, Carmen's eyes telling her to help her calm Stella down. Stella turned around and faced lily so she could get a better look at her, her hands were anxiously smoothing down her dress at her sides.
Lily started kicking her feet back and forth in the air before she let out a wolf whistle, closing the magazine she was reading and bringing it up to dramatically fan at herself as she looked stella up and down, slowly licking her lips as she purrs “Meow”
Stella giggles at her best friends flirting, mumbling out a shy “shut up”. Lily laughs and gets off the bed, walking up to Stella who looked at her with anxious eyes. Lily gave her a reassuring smile and placed her hands on Stella's shoulder to turn around to face the mirror.
Lily rests her chin on Stella's shoulder and squeezes her shoulders softly with a reassuring smile, while Carmen rests her chin on Stella's other shoulder. Lily speaks in a gentle and reassuring tone as she locks eyes with stella through the mirror “Tonight is going to be amazing stella, you and rutger are gonna have a blast. you have nothing to worry about”
Carmen hums in agreement and brings her hand up to fix a few strands of Stella's hair, smiling at her side profile. Lily smirks as she continues to speak “besides all the boys are too stupid to realize something is going on between you and rutger”
Carmen and Stella break out into a fit of giggles at Lily's words, she wasn't exactly wrong. Lily smiled triumphantly when she felt Stella's tense shoulders relax as she calmed down from her nerves. The three girls' heads turn towards the door at the sound of a rhythmic knock. Carmen giggles happily as she says sweetly “Your prince charming is here”
Stella lets out a heavy breath and turns around to give her best friends a grateful smile “thank you for helping me get ready . . . and helping me calm down” she trailed off into a mumble with a sheepish smile.
Carmen grabbed Stella's phone and her small purse while Lily pulled her towards the door with a smile “It's no problem sweets, now you have a great time okay, have lots of fun and dance until your feet fall off!”
Carmen hands Stella her purse and gives her a reassuring smile before giving her a look of worry as if she was Stella's mother “But not too much fun, okay? Be safe and call us if you need anything” Lily playfully rolled her eyes at carmen's words mumbling under her breath ‘okay mom’
Stella surged forward and closed her eyes as she gave her best friends a quick hug, she pulled away and gave them a small wave before turning around and opening the door to her door. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of her boyfriend dressed so handsomely in a blue suit, a bouquet of tulips in his hand.
Rutger looked up from his feet as he heard the door open, his jaw falling in awe as he took in the sight of stella. The dress she was wearing fit her perfectly, was it purple, blue, violet? He didn't know. But what he did know is that it's going to take everything in him to keep his hands to himself tonight. He let out a heavy breath as he looked at her in awe “Wow you look so, so fucking beautiful”
“And you look handsome as ever” Stella gave him a flirtatious smile as she stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer. The nerves she had felt were slowly disappearing the longer she was in her boyfriend's presence. Rutger smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, carefully holding the flowers behind her back as he leaned down for a soft kiss.
“How am I going to be able to keep my hands to myself tonight?” stella whispered once she pulled away from the kiss, a lovesick smile on both of their lips. Rutger was grateful that she couldn't feel his fast heartbeat through his suit. Rutger chuckled and placed a few kisses on her cheek before whispering seductively in her ear “I was just thinking the same thing”
Stella giggled and softly pushed him away from her when she felt one of his hands slide down her back, getting awfully close to her ass. She gave him a warning look before taking the flowers he held out for her as he laughed. She brought the pretty tulips up to her nose, smelling them with a smile. She looked back at rut who was looking at her so fondly, she whispered “You’re perfect rut”
“Nah, that role is already taken by you” Rutger flirted making stella giggle and playfully roll her eyes, she pulled away from him and handed her flowers to a smiling carman who had a smirking lily behind her. “Please keep lily’s plant killing paws off of these”
“I will, have fun you two” Carmen gave them both a sweet smile as she took the flowers while lily playfully rolled her eyes and made her way back to Stella's bed. The couple said one more goodbye before they made their way out of the dorms and towards Rutgers truck. Holding hands the whole drive, knowing that they would have to pretend to be just friends once they leave the truck.
“Is that stella? . . . with rutger?” Dylan asked his younger brother in slight confusion and shock, not expecting to see them here, together. Dylan had reached out to her the other day to see if she was coming and she had told him no. Dylan looked to his brother tyler who was much closer to stella then he was, tyler just shrugs and takes a sip of his drink before answering “i mean they have gotten closer, they probably just came as friends”
Dylan nods and lets out a small hum, not thinking anymore of it. But he was definitely not the only one who was confused about the pair. Ethan and Mark who were standing next to the drink table, their eyes widened in slight shock as they noticed them walk in together. While Luca who was standing next to them was trying to hide his smirk by taking a sip of his drink.
“Ready to dance the night away pal?” Rutger leaned down to whisper in her ear, a teasing smile gracing his lips when he said ‘pal’. Stella rolled her eyes playfully and gently hit him in his side with her elbow as they walked further into the large room. “you're forgetting the part where we eat a ton of cake too buddy”
“Oh, how dare i?” rut chuckled dramatically as he placed a hand over his heart after he winced dramatically when she nudged him in the ribs. Rutger had to stop himself from leaning down to kiss her when she looked at him with that sweet smile of hers. Rutger cleared his throat and blinked a few times, leading her towards the dance floor as he spoke “Come on we should get started before we get questioned to death”
“So do I need to be worried – give him my big brother speech?” Mark questioned the youngest Hughes as they refilled their glasses. Stella giggled and placed the ladle back in the punch bowl, turning her body to the side to face mark as he got another soda “He invited me as friends mark, no big brother speech is needed”
Ethan looked at her with slight suspicion in his eyes, not believing her words. He’s had suspicions that somethings been going on between the two of them for a long time, it was obvious to Ethan that rutger had a crush on her. Ethan glanced behind him and towards one of the tables he saw rutger last and Ethan had to hide his smirk in his cup when he caught rutger staring at stella.
“Damn i'm a little disappointed, i was thinking of a really good speech too, intimidating and everything” mark pouted dramatically as he led the other too over to their table, pulling stella’s chair out for her before sitting down. Stella set her glass on the table as she sat down, pushing her hair back off her shoulders and giving mark a small smirk “please, you're as intimidating as a fly”
“Your deflecting” Ethan narrowed his eyes at her, sitting down next to mark. Stella looked away from mark and to ethan, holding her glass tighter as she gave him a teasing smile “And you both have been drinking too much of that spiked punch”
“Seriously, me and rut came here just as friends” stella gave them both a smile. She technically wasn't lying; they only came as friends – well they came pretending to be just friends. She tried to justify her lie internally but nothing could make her feel better for lying.
“Anyways, what about you mark? No lily?” stella was quick to change the topic, giving Mark a small smile. Ethan stifled his laugh by taking a sip of his drink, already knowing what happened from when mark ranted to him. Mark frowned and answered with a sad sigh “She threatened to kill me if i asked, apparently tonight is survivor sooo”
Stella is stunned for a moment at Mark's response, biting her lip to hold in the giggle she wanted to let out as she thought of lily. Stella didn't even know where to begin on her thoughts of Mark and lily. Stella cleared her throat and gave a pouting mark a smile “she uh, she really loves survivor”
“Yeah, it's a good show…” Ethan nodded, also trying to hold in his laughter, but as soon as he looked up from his glass and made eye contact with Stella, they both broke out into a fit of giggles. Mark rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest as he looks between them with an offended look “why are you brushing over the fact that she's said she'd kill me?”
“I'm pretty sure that's her dirty talk” Stella said between her giggles, Mark rolled his eyes and nudged Ethan hard in the ribs when he started to laugh louder at his expense. Rutger, who just finished talking to a few friends of his coach, walked up to the table, only hearing the last bit of their conversation. Rutger stood behind Stella's chair, resting his hands on the chair, his fingers brushing against her skin and leaving goosebumps “Dirty talk? what are you freaks talking about?”
“You don't wanna know b-” Stella had to bite her lip before she accidentally called him baby at the end. Thankfully ethan and mark didn't notice her almost slip up, but rutger did. Rutger smiled and secretly dipped his finger under the strap of her dress, caressing the skin. Stella blushed at the feeling of his touch and tilted her head to the side when she felt him bend down a little, rutger smiled, his eyes raking over her face before asking “wanna dance?”
“I thought you would never ask” stella teased as she placed her hand in his that he held out to help her stand up from the chair. She squeezed his hand as she got up, following after him. Mark grabbed her glass and brought it close to him when she left.
“Am I drunk or are they in love?” Mark asked as he tilted his head, watching as rutger rested his hand on Stella's lower back and led her towards the packed dance floor. Ethan bounced his leg, his eyes not leaving the two, watching as Rutger spinned her around before pulling her close. Ethan answered mark with a knowing tone “you're definitely something”
“I'm really happy that you asked me to come, I've had a great time,” Stella said softly as she closed her eyes. The couple were somewhere on the dancefloor, swaying slowly to the slow song that was playing. Rutger had his hands on her hips while she had her arms around his shoulders, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Me too pretty girl” he whispered in her ear with a smile, softly caressing her hips. They weren't exactly out of view from their friends, but just enough that they couldn't see the small touches. Stella smiled and she absentmindedly played with the hair at his nape as they slowly swayed to the song, she could feel his heartbeat through his suit, and she swore to herself that she's never felt that much peace and comfort before.
Stella opened her eyes and tilted her to look up at rutger, a smile immediately forming on their lips as they locked eyes. Stella dipped her fingers under the collar of his suit, batting her eyelashes as she whispered, “want to help me find the bathroom?”
Rutger smirked and shook his head softly, seeing right through her innocent question and smile. Rutger looked around them quickly before gripping her hips harder and pulling her closer, giving stella his own fake innocent smile “i know the perfect way”
“I'll follow you” Stella flirted, holding back the urge to hold his hand as he led them away from the dance floor and out of the function room. But once they were alone, Rutger was quick to lock their fingers and pull her into his side, missing the feeling of her against him. Stella giggled at how eagerly Rutger pulled her into the storage closet.
“rut if we get caught” stella trailed off in a whisper as she looked up at her boyfriend, her tone had worry in it but her eyes were filled with mischief. Rutger softly pressed her against the door, his knee between her thighs. “don't worry pretty” rutger whispered back before he turned his head to look around the small dimly lit storage room as he continued with a smile “I don't think they are gonna need Christmas decorations any time soon”
Stella giggled at his sassiness and softly cupped his jaw to make him look back at her, attaching their lips in a feverish kiss before he could say anything else. A small grunt of surprise leaves his lips, but it was swallowed up as the kiss got more heated. Stella’s head was gently pressed against the door, his hands traveling up and down her sides while her hands got lost under his blazer.
The kiss they shared was filled with passion and their touches were eager, as if they had been starved of each other for weeks but it truly has only been a couple hours. Keeping their hands to themselves was a lot harder than they thought it would be, the two of them almost slipping up in front of their friends many times throughout the night.
Rutger tilted his head, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her jaw and neck and once he found that sweet spot on her neck, soft whimpers and gasps left Stella's parted lips. Rutger hummed in appreciation at the pretty sounds leaving his girl's lips. He moved his right hand up to slowly pull down the thin strap of her dress, kissing down her shoulder. Stella giggled at the ticklish feeling of her boyfriend's soft lips and touch. He smiled and whispered against her skin “feel good?”
“You know it does” stella pouted as he continued to tease her with his soft kisses, only making her needier for more. The dimly lit storage room was starting to feel stuffy, and every second that passed made her want them to sneak away to her dorm room. She was pulled away from her thoughts at the feeling of her boyfriend softly nipping at her neck, making her his in surprise “Rut!”
Rutger chuckled and before he could say some sassy remark Stella's phone that was in his blazer pocket started buzzing - someone was calling her. They both wanted to ignore it, but Stella knew she couldn't, what if it was important? Rutger sighed when he felt her slip her hands into his blazer to pull her phone out of his inner pocket. Her eyes widening slightly when she saw that it was Luke who was calling her, rutger dramatically wincing when he saw as well, making her roll her eyes and playfully slap his chest before she answered.
“Hello?” stella answered as she held her phone up, putting it on speaker and turning down the volume so Rutger could hear. They can hear the sound of someone moving around before they hear Luke’s voice “uh heyyy sis, what are you up too?”
Stella looks away from her phone and to Rutger, both of them giving each other a ‘really’ look. They could tell just by his tone that he was up to something, that he didn't just call her to ask what she's doing. Stella rolled her eyes as she finally realized the point of him calling. “Who told you?”
They heard luke let out a sigh of being caught and they could picture him roll his eyes before he answered quickly “that's not important, what's important is that you –”
“Luke, rutger invited me because he knew how much fun i had at the one last year and he didn't want me to be alone” stella was quick to cut off her older brother, knowing that he was about to go on a rant, and it was just better overall if she just spit it out. Well spit out the half-truth that is. A bitter taste was in her mouth for lying to her brother, a small frown on her lips. Rutger noticed her disdain and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, squeezing her hips reassuringly.
“Okay…hmm that's oddly very sweet of him” luke muttered and Rutger playfully rolled his eyes in offense at his close friend's words. Luke let out another heavy sigh before saying “well i guess I'll let you get back to it, uh have fun– but not too much”
“Okay i will, love you” stella hummed with a smile and luke was quick to reply before hanging up “Love ya too”
“Hmm there is a rat amongst us” rutger hummed as he slipped her phone back into his pocket, there were a few moments of silence between them. “It was Dylan” they said in unison, before breaking out into a fit of quiet giggles, they were both on the same wavelength. Stella sighed before she leaned forward to place a quick and soft kiss to rut’s lips, but as she started to pull away rutger gently held her face in his hand and pulled her back.
The gentle hold he had on her face was completely different from the passionate way his lips moved against hers. It was as if he was sucking the breath out of her, purposely distracting her mind from the lie she had to tell her brother. their lips and tongues moved in tandem, their hands exploring each other's bodies.
stella moaned as rutger bit her lip as she slowly pulled away from the kiss, he chuckled at the dazed look on her face and whispered breathlessly with a mischievous look in his eyes “Come on, let's get out of here before people start suspecting things”
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( AHHH I LOVE THEM !! when I tell you this has been in my drafts since like the beginning of the au 🫢 I am embarrassed to admit that, but I genuinely feel so good about finally finishing this — please tell me what you guys thought — feedback is what makes me want to continue to write !! )
°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )
°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 @bunbunbl0gs @petite-potato4 @winterbarnesblog @lesrflms @iceflwers @dancerbailey3
#👩🏻🎨 ͡ ꒱ stella hughes!#⋆ ˚。⋆୨👩🏻🎨୧˚ stella hughes au!#⋆ ˚。⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!#nhl hockey#hockey imagine#rutger mcgroarty x hughes sister#rutger mcgroarty au#rutger mcgroarty fluff#rutger mcgroarty#rutger mcgroarty imagine#rutger mcgroarty x oc#hughes sister#umich imagine#hughes!oc#hughes!sister#nhl imagine#luke hughes#umich au#umich fic
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of course 3/3
1/3
2/3
entire fic on ao3
in which tommy finally admits he should maybe see a therapist.
thanks again to @mooshkat for the original concept
(tw: heart problems, hospitalization, self loathing)
~
Bobby is the next to show up.
"Hi," he says, disconcertingly tall as he stands over Tommy's bed with a small tupperware. "I figured you can't have anything we would normally bring for someone stuck here, but there's this recipe I liked after my heart attack. It's just chickpeas tossed with olive oil and a bit of curry powder."
"That's very thoughtful," Tommy says, touched and confused. He starts tucking in immediately. The food here could be worse, but he never has much appetite when he's unwell. Maybe eating something will make the nurses frown less often. They're very frowny in this unit. Makes sense, as they probably have the highest proportion of deaths in the building, but it's shit for patient morale.
Bobby's still standing, so Tommy tilts his head at the chair and continues eating.
"How are you feeling?" he asks, once Tommy has left the now half-empty container on his tray table.
"Fine? Tired, mostly." Which is probably for the best when the only change of scenery he gets is the regular trips to imaging. All the napping doesn't leave time to develop cabin fever. "You?"
"I'm good. A little concerned."
Shit. So he's just jumping right in. Tommy works on his breathing. "Oh?"
Bobby nods. "Buck is getting released in the next few hours. He'll probably be up here as soon as they hand over the discharge summary."
Tommy doesn't eye the monitors, but he has a brief fantasy about ripping the leads out and smashing everything on the ground. It's been a long time since he's felt this exposed for this long. "That's good."
Bobby puts his hands on the armrests of the chair. "Hen seems to think you don't want to see him, which is interesting since Buck is behaving like you're pretty much back together."
Keep him away. Do it so I don't have to see his face. "I- I'm-"
Bobby looks at him like he's a spooked horse. "I'm not just here for him, okay? I wanna help you get clarity on what you're actually looking for before it blows up in both your faces again."
It's such a brazen offer Tommy can't help but laugh. "You're welcome to try?"
Bobby smiles a little. "Kid's got a heart the size of Alaska, but--or maybe because of it--he's like the La Brea tar pits. Once you're in, that's all she wrote. It's fine, though, great even. If that's your choice."
Tommy tilts his head, reconciling this man with the friendly, new in town captain who had a veil behind his eyes. In the last eight years, everyone at the 118 figured out how to open a vein for each other, and here's Tommy. Out, flying, and only able to meet his own eyes in the mirror half the time. "What if I'm a bomb," he asks. "Or... whatever destroys tar."
"Is that how you want it to be?" Bobby presses gently.
Tommy rubs at the side of his neck. "I'd be a monster and an idiot if I said yes, wouldn't I?"
Bobby spreads his hands. "There's no relationship jail, Tommy. Doesn't matter to me if you're either or both those things. All I ask is that you keep it away from people I care about."
"No. It's-" Tommy shifts his gaze, his vision blurring. "It's not- That's not what I want. But it's not that easy, Bobby."
"Didn't say easy. Didn't even imply it." Bobby moves a box of tissues from the nightstand to the tray table. "You're no stranger to tackling something hard because you thought it would be worth the effort. Maybe give yourself a little credit."
There are oval-shaped bruises in a roughly circular pattern on Evan's forearm, resembling a school of fish. Those weren't there after the crash. Tommy flexes his right hand, which has been stiff and sore for no apparent reason. "I did that," he says.
"Yeah?" Evan frowns in confusion. "You were suffocating. It wasn't on purpose."
It can be an omen if Tommy lets it.
"Tommy?" Evan says.
Omens are stupid. "Hm?"
Evan fidgets with his free hand, pulling at the edge of his sling. "You said of course you love me, like it was easy. Like it was a given. People don't- haven't said it like that."
"How did they say it?"
"Like they were surprised. Like it was the last thing they could've expected."
"I knew it was a possibility the first time I kissed you," Tommy says, tired of choosing between truths.
He looks up. "You did?"
"Evan," Tommy sighs, "you're the fucking sun."
His beautiful eyes widen and get wet at the corners. "I didn't want the first time I said it to be when- when you were dying in my arms." A shadow passes over his features and Tommy's fingers curl, gathering a handful of his blanket. "I wanted- needed to believe that I'd get another chance. I love you, too, Tommy."
Tommy is so grateful this conversation is taking place today, when he's recovered enough to not cause an international incident every time he does anything more stressful than looking at the color green. The specter of the alarm still looms, but he's done okay so far. "I might not have heard you, if you had said it then." Tommy gestures at his chest. "The wheezing, it was very loud."
"You heard some things, though? It felt like you- you were reacting."
"Yes, Evan. You kept me going."
Evan beams. Tommy aches from the inside like someone sprinkled salt in his IV bag.
"I need," he warns, "so much therapy."
Evan shifts forward in his seat, grunting softly in pain. "I can get you some recommendations."
"Of course you can." Tommy smiles.
Evan is inches away, practically falling out of the chair. "Can I touch you?"
"Do you have the slightest idea how many medications I'm on right now?"
He ducks his head and laughs. "You know that's not what I meant."
"Oh, well, show me what you m-"
Evan lays his free hand lightly, ever so lightly, over Tommy's battered heart before leaning forward and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "I asked you not to run, and you stayed."
Right after the alarm goes off, Tommy pulls away just far enough to capture Evan's mouth with his own.
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Your writings are so good that I’m entrusting you with this simple prompt: Dragon Hybrid Price and (Any Hybrid) Nikolai.
Do what you will dear wizard writer.
For the sheer sake of you never implied how silly I could get with this, I'm sillying it up:
Bear hybrid Nikolai [because it's too fucking good] and dragon hybrid Price standing about one day, the two sergeants and the lieutenant are training together while the older two men watch. They're on someone else's base, a hybrid-less base but they're making do with what the have.
John's leaning back against the wall, wings pressed up against the brick in a way that has to be uncomfortable or at least that's what everyone assumes. He's rubbing at the base of one of his horns as if trying to soothe a headache and he looks quite frankly exhausted when another Captain appraoches.
John decides that in comparison to this man, he looks like Marilyn fucking Monroe.
"Captain Givens, you look about as good as I feel." John is at least trying to keep a good relationship with the other team even if they have a habit of pissing off each of them.
"Too fuckin' right. Just got off the phone with the Missus and had to help her convince my little boy not to shove his Batman figure up his nose. It's exhausting." The man complains, running a hand over his face tiredly.
John makes a sympathetic noise but doesn't hide his amused look. "Oh, I'm all too familiar with that feeling." The other day he'd had to convince a group of rookies that Soap is indeed a liar and that oil paint is in fact not edible just because it has oil in the name.
"You have kids?"
"Yes." John should've been smarter than to think that Nikolai's silence was a good thing, he doesn't get a chance to correct the bear hybrid before the other Captain asks:
"How many?"
"Three." Nikolai tells him while watching the boys train in the distance.
For a brief moment, John wants to tug on one of his fluffy ears and tell him to quit it. On the other hand, fuck it, why not?
"Yeah, three over there are mine. Different mums but I was a bit of a tart back in the day." He's reliant on the fact the human knows nothing about hybrids, specifically dragon hybrids for it to work. It's no secret that dragon hybrids can live a lot longer than the average human if they're careful about it but to those types of hybrids, John is still a toddler, horns still in one piece with wings that are still vibrant and healthy.
He can see the amusement in Nik's big brown eyes, he likes it when John sinks down to his level of teasing humans. The only one exempt was Kate, they respected her too much and she wasn't an idiot, she'd never believe half of the stupid shit they've all told people throughout the years. Besides, Kate is family. She has five hybrids protecting her back and the average CIA agent is still more scared of her.
"Riley, MacTavish and Garrick? They're yours?" The human asks in disbelief. Simon was going to kill him for this later, Kyle and Johnny would inevitably laugh themselves hoarse.
"Aye. Didn't find out about Riley until he was a teenager and his Mum got in contact. Looks fuck all like me but he's certainly mine. Lad certainly wasn't a chipper wee thing but I managed to win him over, SAS was his choice, I just put him on the task force because I owed it to his Mum to keep an eye out." He's talking out of his arse now and he knows it but the captain seems to be hanging on his every word. Nikolai is making the conscious decision to look away from him but he can see the faint shaking of the bastard's shoulders, he's laughing.
"MacTavish was from an eventful night up in Glasgow one evening, we didn't know if he was mine or Nik's until we saw the little blighter's eyes."
Good on Nik for how quickly he sorts himself, turning around and nodding approvingly. "Ah, but young MacTavish has always favoured me. Would've been a good bear cub, very grizzly."
The captain looks over to the three men training with wide eyes, tilting his head as he stares at them all, surveying them before he looks back to John.
"And Garrick is yours too?"
Kyle had been ripping on him for being old earlier so maybe he plays it up just that little bit more.
He nods, looking over at Gaz with the most proud look he can muster, it's real but he can pretend it isn't just for the bit. "He was an angel when he was a tot, good sleeper and learned to talk quick. Was always a little grumpy that he didn't have horns too but he got over it eventually. Got him a blanket with a dragon on it when he was two and he didn't get rid of the thing until he was fifteen. Big Mumma's boy though, spitting image of his mother and more than proud of it."
It almost saddens him that the interaction ends when a sergeant whose name he can't remember calls over the captain about something but the sound of Nik's deep, gruff laughter is anything to soothe his short-lived annoyance.
Truthfully, he forgets about the entire interaction within a few hours until Soap barges into his temporary room on the base with a positively gleeful look.
"Price, I don't know what the fuck you did but Gaz is due to kick yer heed in."
"Excuse me?"
"Givens won't stop asking him about his dragon blankie."
Shit.
"And what's this about you and Nik playing who's the daddy when I was born?"
Shit.
#captain john price#cod nikolai#nikprice#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kate laswell#this was less about nikprice and more about me having fun but in my defence im not apologising
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New family 2/?
First part:
⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
Fear, mention of vomit , characters being religious, curse words, mention of sexual assault, mention of dehumanization
--------------------------------------------
I was double fucked.
There we go again, me cursing for the second time while starting my story. I promise, I'll try my best for it to be the last time I start with that kinda sentence. Really.
It's just, if I though that what happened previously was bad then what happened later that day was literally hell. Well, yeah I can imagine worse (and believe me when I tell you what happened a few days later you will actually see far worse, but I can't spoil my own story) but it was still bad. Really bad.
Okay, some creeps that enjoy the company of giants would disagree that it was bad at all. But if you're not a giant-obsessed creep (sorry for calling some of y'all out) then you'll understand why it was so bad for me. Okay, back to the story.
As you might recall, I fained mare secounds before officially meeting my moms giant fiance and his sons. Yeah, great first impression. Dad would have been proud. He was just as awkward as me but this once I won with him on 'the worst first impression competition'. Well, I hope he saw this from heaven and laughed at me.
I suppose I though I would soon be 'reunited' with him, if you know what I mean.
C'mon, I can't be the only person that doesn't get why a giant would marry a human if they actually don't have any sick intentions! I mean, everything is really outta place, those kind of relationships have basically nothing to offer. I wouldn't say I'm a traditionalist, I'm bisexual myself so that is kinda impossible, but I'm not there for "mixed-sized" marriages if you know what I mean. They weren't legal (untill like 5 years previously to the story I'm telling you) for a reason!
Shoot, I'm talking about all those things again and you'll consider me a specist. Let's get back to what happened after I fainted.
I don't really know what happened mid-time, my mind was blank after I fainted all the way to the moment I have awoken. It was probably the first time I was actually so unconscious that I can't recall anything.
When I awoken, or more likely started to regain consciousness all I remember is the feeling of warmth. It was really, really warm.
It wasn't too good for me because I had puked what, like 10 minutes before that? Yeah, throwing up again wouldn't have turned out very well for me back then.
Once I finally opened my eyes I still felt dizzy. The whole world around me was moving and I promise you I heard my heart beating so loud that I though I was dying. Well, it wasn't exactly my heartbeat, I later found out.
For a few secounds I couldn't remember what I was doing before I fainted and I couldn't understand where was I. Everything was moving, like I was in a car, but far more.. enourmous.
Crap.
I forgot about those damn giants.
I tried to figure out where I was as I sat up. Whatever I was sitting on was squishy and warm. I tried to get my balance back as my eyes started to unblur. I heard my mom's voice.
"Zack! You're awake!" she yelled out with relief.
Oh yeah. Me and my mom were together. We were going to meet up with her boyfriend and his sons. Why did I forget about that? How did I?
I touched my head, feeling it hurt. What the hell was actually happening?
"Ethan, honey can you get me closer to Zack, please?" I heard my momma's voice once again, though it now wasn't directed to me.
Wait. Ethan? I know that name from somewhere... Oh, fuck.
"Sure, auntie, whatever you ask for" I heard a manly voice echo around me. It was so low and loud that it sounded like it was coming from some concert speakers rather than a real person. I was literally drowning in this voice that seemed to sound from every direction around me. As if I were somehow surrounded by it. Was this even possible?
"Just be careful Van, don't move too suddenly, Ethan is still learning how to manage an overly trusting human" I heard another manly, yet softer voice that somehow felt even more surreal. I was starting to understand what was happening. We were with the giants. Probably in a car. I was..
The same voice that spoke less than a secound ago let out a chuckle and I swear that once I started processing the words he had said I was about to freak out again when I found another reason to.
"Dad don't say that!" the voice around me echoed louder, making me feel my heart skip a beat. My head was spinning again "Auntie, don't listen to him. I work with human kids, I know just how to handle your kind, no need to worry"
The rest of the short conversation seemed blurred out to me. I was more concerned on a discovery I made. I finally figured out my surroundings.
I was half-sitting on the lap of a giant.
Ethan, specifically.
My eyes widden, my head screamed at me to freaking run away as far as possible, my legs felt groggy, my breathing fasten as I slowly raised my eyes, first looking at a enourmous stomach covered by a white comfy hoodie, then at a neck with visible veins (which creeped the heck out of me) and finally at a face of a gigantic beast named Ethan.
His hand was reaching out to Andrew, who was driving and my mom casually walked into his opened palm from the shoulder of her 'fiance'.
My teeth bit into my lower lip before I could let out a yelp at noticing how easily the freaking 60-ish foot tall dude handled my mama, my only treasure, only family.
My mom was soon lowered in my direction and believe me when I tell you, catching eye contact with a giant was the worse ever feeling for me back then.
Ethan smiled at me with those freaking fangs of a killer and I felt my whole stomach rushing up my throat.
If it wasn't for the fact that earlier I have literally vomited everything that was inside my body I would have surely puked at that moment.
I felt my freaking soul leaving my body as the gigantic dude-beast smiled at me and eyed me up and down.
"Hey, kid. I'm Ethan"
And I was back down.
Yep, I fainted again. I know shitty thing but damn, that's freaking terrifying! You wouldn't be much better facing a giant, I assure you!
Well, they didn't let me be unconscious (or dead at that point) for long enough, my mom rushed to me and shoke me awake.
"Sweetie! You fainted again!"
Yeah, no shit mom, I was on the lap of my probable future murderer that could literally do anything to me, I had nothing to be afraid of.
"I did..?" I mumbled, rubbing my face.
Don't call me a coward, I just wouldn't say something that rude to my mama, even if it was the truth. If you were raised properly by your mother you would know not to talk like that to her (unless she's a bitch, then go ahead).
"Maybe we should actually go to the hospital" said Andrew, looking at me for a secound and then back onto the road.
"No baby, I think he is just tired. Let's get him home and give him some time to rest and then we'll decide" my mom answered.
Ethan looked down at me with now a concerned expression but didn't say anything. He seemed conflicted. I don't know what was him problem but I appreciated that he didn't touch me nor say anything to me again directly.
Even though I appreciated not being touched, it didn't take my fear away, my body was still trembling and all I wanted was to hide from his gaze.
My mom worried sick and spoke some stuff to me for the rest of the ride, but if I'm being honest, I couldn't understand even a single word she said, I was too focused on the fact that I was on the lap of this enourmous young man and his eyes never left my body.
I actually felt a little sad (don't kill me mama) that I didn't just die at the airport. I wouldn't have had to be so close to giants.
Ethan had a conflicted and even sad look on his face but I couldn't actually figure out why. Maybe it was because he couldn't kill me in front of my mom? Would that even matter to him? Or was it his father or brother? I don't think they would've minded it. I was not actually sure why me and my mom were still alive but I was grateful to God that we were. I also prayed that my mom would escape somehow, with me preferably but my hope about her realizing we were in danger was long gone.
Before I knew how many miles we had traveled, the car stopped.
"And we're home" Andrew announced happily.
Ryan left the car, not saying a word, slamming the door so hard that not only me but also (surprisingly) my mom flinched.
Ethan turned his head around to face his brother but the two never made eye contact. That was weried. What was happening between those two? Okay, I was hella scared but drama is drama! As long as I'm not a part of it I'm a fan.
Andrew signed.
"He'll be over it soon, honey" the oldest giant said, looking at my mom, making a small, reassuring smile. Even though I was terrified of the giant and his voice made my head spin unpleasantly I felt some pity inside of my heart. Andrew was a tired dad with visibly some issues with Ryan. Yeah, he was my probable future murderer but I could still pity him a little.. right?
"I'm sure he will. He just needs some time to adjust, that's all" my mom answered her fiance. I was curious what was all of this about. I got so involved in trying to figure out the situation that for a secound I forgot that those were actually giants I was thinking about and being within their reach (do not remind me that I was on Ethan's lap, please, it was as scary as it could).
"I'll talk to him auntie, he can't be this rude to you both" Ethan added into the conversation. I didn't like how he called my mom 'auntie'. It sounded as if they had a relationship. And as if it was sincere. I hated it very much. I didn't like how they tricked my mom into believing that they had no sick intentions. She was my mom. Not their "auntie" nor "Van" (it's a nickname for Vanessa if you wanna know).
"We all need to adjust. It's not easy for neither of us. Sure, for me, your dad and you Ethan it might be easier but it's still hard to change our whole lives" my mom tried to sound assuring, petting the giants hand. I flinched as I realized what she was doing but I didn't say a word, I just held my trembling hands together with more pressure.
Ethan's eyes landed on me again. I swear he looked right into my soul. He didn't seem angry, more likely sad and surprised. What was he surprised about?
"We should be heading back home." Andrew spoke again, trying to look more positive, even though it was visible it was forced. That somehow made my heart ache. If he was a human I would have felt bad for him. But he wasn't a human.
Andrew opened his door. I realized that I couldn't get out of the car on my own. I paled again. My mom noticed and came closer to me, grabbing my arm for support as I stood up. Cold sweat flew down my spine. I didn't want to be touched by either of those giants. Abso-fucking-lutely not.
I closed my eyes tightly, expecting Ethan's enormous hands to grab me forcefully and carry me home as if I were a toy. My heart was beating faster, my breathing became shallower, my legs were barely able to keep my balance.
I felt a terrible pressure in my chest, that stinging feeling you feel when you're extremely anxious, as if something was crushing you from the inside.
I waited for a second, two, ten, but the grip never came.
All that happened was my mom speaking to me:
"Why are your eyes closed? Are you feeling worse again?"
I immediately opened my eyes and looked at her confused yet worried expression. My eyes then landed on Ethan who was now even more visibly shocked and sadden. What the hell was his problem exactly? Did I look this pitiful that even a giant pitied me? Dang.
"No mama, I'm f-fine.." my voice shook way more that I intended to reveal in front of the giant. I nervously moved form one leg to the other. I realized it was the first time I spoke in front of a giant in my normal volume voice. That one sentence mumbled before that was basically a whisper.
Ethan's gaze never left me as Andrew exited the car. My mom's as well, but her gaze was less intimidating.
I still don't really know how Ethan knew but I'm sure as hell he knew way more than my mom that I was scared. She acted as if I was just sick while he.. seemed to notice.
"Would it be okay if I took you in my open palm and took you back home?" the giant man spoke in a softer, slower and more quiet voice, his hands never moving an inch in our direction. It felt surreal.. was he really asking us about consent to being held? He could just grab us. He could do anything. He didn't need our consent. Even if we said 'no' he could still do anything he wanted. But somehow.. somehow the fact that he did ask was not only shocking but also.. slightly calming.
"Ethan, honey, what a silly question, of course you can!" My mom chuckled a little, smiling at the beast ahead of us.
"Sorry auntie, but I wasn't talking to you" he smiled softly at her, showing those fangs of his a little (which surprisingly didn't scare my mom but made me take a tiny step back) and then his eyes met mine and I felt uneasy, trapped even, my body stiffen "Zack, will you allow me to get you back home on my open palm? No pressure, kid"
My heart literally stopped for a moment. I was shocked he asked me that. I knew there was pressure - my mom, the giants, no other way into the house - but he pretended to care. To actually mind how I felt about that. He also never used the words 'hold' or 'grab' and he kept emphasizing that his hand would be open. I didn't know what game was he playing but he was doing it really well since I felt a little more easy about the whole situation.
I didn't want to be touched though. I hated that idea. I hated physical touch in general but being on a giants hand, totally dependent on him was even a thousand times worse. But what I was supposed to do? He would stop pretending to be polite once I said 'no'. Also, my mom would be mad. I didn't want my last memory of her to be anger.
"Zack, sweetie, Ethan asked you a question. Answer him, so we can get back home" my mom rushed me, though the giants eyes landed on her with dissaproval (though at first I mistaken it with anger, i must confess (I might have been a tiny little bit paranoid)).
"Y-Yeah.." I mumbled, or more likely yelped at Ethan's eyes returning to me. I could barely speak with him being this close.
He didn't seem convinced and wanted to say something but we heard Andrew calling from outside the car: "Are you coming or not?"
The giants eyes scanned me up and down again and then he slowly moved his right hand and lowered it onto his lower thigh, still leaving about 6 meters between himself and me. My mom rushed to get on him palm, while I stood there, biting my lower lip. The feeling in my chest returned. I looked up for support in my mom but her eyes didn't even meet mine. But Ethan's did.
"It's alright Zack, I promise I won't drop you, I know to handle humans" he spoke softly and quietly as if trying to calm down a startled animal. Was this what I was to him? A scared kitten? Humiliating.
My mom's eyes landed on me and she then looked as if she finally realized what was actually stopping me from getting on that palm. But it was as clear as day she would not reveal that I was scared of Ethan. I don't know why, wasn't it obvious?
"Ethan, honey he is just scared he will fall, that's all. Zack don't be silly and come here" she chuckled nervously as if trying to hide a secret. Good job mom, totally not suspicious and totally not making me look like a coward. Good job.
I took a deep breath and a unsteady step ahead. It was the first time in my life that my legs didn't obey to my will. Well, it wasn't exactly my will but I tried to actually pretend like I wasn't afraid.
I looked up and Ethan looked at me with those enourmous hazel eyes full of pity and emphaty.
I finally figured out why I and my mom were still alive.
They must have viewed us as pets.
I gulped at that though. I remembered how gentle and polite I was to my first hamster - exactly like Ethan was to me now. Great, I was going to be dehumanized for the rest of my supposably short life. Lovely.
"It's alright" he cooed again, as if talking to a baby animal. It really pissed me off. I am clearly not an animal! Like damn, I am an average (maybe even a little handsome) guy, not a pet.
I actually enjoyed the fact that I was more annoyed than scared at that moment, this emotion didn't stop my legs from moving at last.
It took me a moment but I actually did get on the giants hand. The fear returned to my body. I was pretty much petrified. This was freaking unnatural. I was standing on something so squishy, warm, unsteady, so alive. I hated being held by a giant. His long fingers creeped me out the most. They twitched from time to time.
The enourmous guy spoke again "Hang on, we're heading out".
He soon stood up and exited the car. I gulped, feeling all my organs moving. Saying I was uptight was an understatement. It was like an extreme rollercoaster, only without any protection, while standing up and with an unpredictable route. I couldn't help but let out another yelp as he started walking. I couldn't really keep my balance well, but my mom held me in place.
The ground was so far away that I knew if I fell down I would 100% die. My mom somehow wasn't bothered by that. Like, we get it mom, you're a crazy, giant-obsessed, old woman but freaking have some decency and don't be elated by being in danger! (Please don't let my mom find this blog, she will kill me).
My heart was pounding faster than it physically could. I promise you, I have had a heart attack. I tried not to move, just to ensure myself that I wouldn't die falling down.
It didn't help that Ethan's eyes LITERALLY never left me. Like, how creepy can you be?
Oh.
What if I was supposed to be HIS pet?
This would have made sense. Andrew would take mom, Ethan me and Ryan was pissed off at both of them because he didn't get a pet. It sounded realistic.
My mouth went dry at that though. What would he do to me? I have heard stories of humans being dehumanized and held as pets by giants. Some kept them in cages. Some forced them to be nude in those. They would feed them trash. They would force them not to speak. They would punish any disobedience very, very harshly.
My eyes became glossy, tears began to built in them.
What would be Ethan's punishment towards me?
This question made me almost break down. What would he do to me? Would he be the "nice owner" that treats pets with care? Or would he be cruel?
I remembered my friends story, when we were back in my school. He told us about his cousin who was kidnapped by a giant. I think I told you this story before. What if my fate was similar?
What if I would be abused mentally, physically and sexually?
Oh my dearest Lord God what if that was it? What if both of them were sexually deprived creeps? What if Andrew was 'dating' my mom, becouse that was what was in his mind? Was I about to become a victim of that? Would anyone even believe me? Would anyone save me? Would anyone save my mama?
I muffled my sob. I was fucking terrified.
Lord God, please hear my prayers and save us - I prayed - Please God, don't let them harm my mom. I don't care anymore what tortures I'll go through but please save mommy.
Before my mind could take me any further we entered the house - my new prison.
It was freaking enormous but I have to admit, it was also pretty. Those dudes were freaking affluent. I wiped my eyes, trying to hide my fear. My mom's eyes now met mine.
"Is everything okay sweetie?" My mom petted my shoulder. I smiled sadly at her. We were about to die but we were together. We were a team. As long as I was with her it was okay.
"Yeah" I mumbled, hugging her, fearing it would be the last time.
"Welcome to your new home!" Andrew announced.
Welcome to hell.
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Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it 🥰 Can't wait for y'all's questions and theories!
#g/t#giant/tiny#giant tiny#gt related#gt community#g/t concept#g/t writing#gt#g/t related#g/t angst#justme315 stories#gianttiny#gentle giant#giant#g/t community#g/t family#g/t fandom#g/t fearplay#g/t fluff#g/t ocs#g/t stories#g/t story#g/t writer#giant and tiny#giant foster au#giant male#giant men#giant tiny story#giant/tiny community#giant/tiny fandom
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Ekko and Powder dancing together was so so cute !!! The song made it even more special, when I recognised it was in French sung by Stromae and Pomme (I'm a frenchie fan of those two) I was so emotional, I didn't expect it at all, and the lyrics killed me, what can I even say, I was tearing up... Such a beautiful scene, a moment full of light ! I really enjoyed the exploration of their dynamic and what could have been, even tho it was also really heartbreaking and bittersweet... Also Ekko is truly such a good character, I could talk about him for hours !
But can we talk about the fact that in the end he went and saved the world, what a King, but because of that he wasn't there with Vi, Jinx and Vander/Warwick, while he could have saved them just thank to his flying board or even his time loop watch if he still had it... BTW what did you think of Jinx's "death" ?
YEAH like that episode just established why Ekko is the greatest king and Heimerdinger sucks butt. Heimerdinger got stuck in a fairy tale universe where all is good and decided to become a bard. Ekko arrived and IMMEDIATELY decided he should return to his own horrible reality, and try to transform it into something closer to the happiness he was witnessing. He enjoyed his time with Powder, but she wasn't a replacement for the girl he knew, because that girl still needed his help. I don't speak French, but I just checked the lyrics to the song earlier, and oh wow it totally made me tear up :') It's the childhood friends to enemies to allies of it all :') I have to go rewatch that ep like right now fr. Ekko best boy
Jinx's "death" SUCKS!!!!!! I said it earlier, but I see no motivation for that. Jinx craves love and someone who will trust her and rely on her. She finally has all those things, but she decides to fake her death and run away???? And for what???? Because "no amount of good deeds can delete the bad deeds"????? It's the same thing that happened with Heimerdinger - they give them one grand gesture, and call it redemption. Bullcrap!!!!!!!
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Love Signs
Sun: So, I'll see you later, right?
Blake: (Nods) See you.
Sun: (Walks out)
Ruby: (Gasps) UH OH~!
Blake: What?
Ruby: Somebody's in looove~!
Blake: Don't be ridiculous. Sun and I are just friends.
Ruby: Are you sure?
Blake: ...
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Blake: (Laying on the couch) Uuuuuuuugh... This has been the worst day of my life...
Sun: (Walks in) Hey, Blake~!
Blake: (Smiles) Hey, Sun.
--------------------------------------------------
Yang: Ready to roll, Blake?
Blake: (Scroll buzzes) One sec... (Checks)
Sun: (Via scroll) LOL he does look like a banana
Blake: (Smiles) Okay, let's go.
--------------------------------------------------
Blake: ...You didn't drink the tea?
Sun: Nah... Banana tea was not a good idea. Dunno why I thought it'd be the one good thing that's banana-flavored that'd be good, but here we are.
Blake: You like bananas, but don't like banana flavors?
Sun: Yeah, yeah, I know it's weird.
Blake: I never said that. I just didn't know that about you. Is there a reason?
Sun: Well...
Blake: (Listens intently)
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Sun: Whoa...
Blake: Yeah...
Sun: I didn't know they put you through that. Uh, you... You okay?
Blake: Yes, I am now. (Leans into him) Thank you for listening. I've never told this to anyone before, so I wasn't sure how you'd react.
Sun: Hey, it's me! I'm used to just about anything, so if you need someone to listen to you, just let me know!
Blake: Thank you.
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Ruby: I mean, you talk about him all the time.
Blake: N-No, I don't.
Weiss: Yes, you do. In fact, after your second date together, every time we tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, you kept gushing about that ruffian!
Yang: Ice Queen was about to shove a washcloth in your mouth to shut you up!
Blake: (Blushing) O-Oh...
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Sun: (Reading)
Blake: (Reading, Looks to Sun)
Sun: (Looks to Blake, Smiles)
Blake: (Smiles) You hungry?
Sun: I could eat. (Closes book) You?
Blake: Same. This next part is going to take some energy to get through.
Sun: You could always skip it.
Blake: And miss something important?
Sun: Hey, if it's so important, they wouldn't make the part boring, right?
Blake: (Giggles) Maybe...
Sun: ...
Blake: ...
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Blake: You should let your team know.
Sun: Ah, they're used to it-
Blake: Sun.
Sun: ...
Blake: ...
Sun: ...Okay, fine, I'll go ahead and let Neptune know. (Taps scroll) We're partners, after all.
Blake: (Raises brow) Then maybe you should act like it.
Sun: Oh, I'm sure they're fine- Oh, crap.
Blake: What?
Sun: Shoot, Neptune's asking for some help. Rain check?
Blake: I'll come with. Make sure everything is okay.
Sun: Sounds like a plan! Oh, and thanks for having my back.
Blake: Anytime, Sun.
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Ruby: And how is he compared to your last boyfriend?
Blake: (Shudders) There's no comparison. With A- I mean, my last boyfriend, everything was a minefield. Where we ate, what we did, everything we talked about. With Sun, everything is so much easier.
Ruby: Yeah, because you're in love.
Blake: WE ARE NOT-
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Sun: And, uh, yeah... That was the last time I saw my cousin.
Blake: That sounds like it was hard for you.
Sun: Eh. I'm used to it. Besides, I'm pretty sure she understands.
Blake: I thought the same way, too, when I left my parents. (Puts hand on shoulder) And I think I still feel that way.
Sun: ...Thanks, Blake. (Smiles)
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Blake: (Smiles at the beautiful day after rain)
Blake: (Sees yellow monkey towel)
Blake: (Notices light shining through clouds)
Blake: (Picks up banana during lunch)
Blake: ...Today is a good day.
--------------------------------------------------
Sun: So... What's this movie about?
Blake: It's about a fisherman who falls in love with a mermaid.
Sun: Huh! Sounds fun!
Blake: I've already seen it.
Sun: Then why are you watching it with me?
Blake: I thought it would be something we'd both enjoy.
Sun: Oh...
--------------------------------------------------
Blake: Hm... We should take the high road, through the trees.
Weiss: What? Why?
Sun: (Memory) Because the less we're seen, the more we see~!.
Blake: (In sync) Because the less we're seen, the more we see.
Weiss: ...You've been hanging around that scoundrel Wukong way too much.
--------------------------------------------------
Sun: Hey, Blake, wanna try out this-
--------------------------------------------------
Blake: ALRIGHT, I GET IT! (Huffs) So... What should I do?
Ruby: You need to let him know, get down on one knee, and-
Weiss: NO.
Ruby: Huh?!
Weiss: You don't need some big, extravagant showing to prove your feelings.
Ruby: B-But...
Weiss: Just accept that you're in love with him and accept the person you're becoming because of it.
Blake: The person I'm becoming?
Weiss: Think about who you were when you first met Sun, now think about who you are now that you're with him. Do you like the old you or the new you more?
Blake: I... I like who I am more than who I was.
Weiss: Then be that person. Be that person and be happy about the love you have for Sun. Just stop talking about him so much.
Yang: Aw~! Is Weiss Cream jealous~?
Weiss: I-I am not!
Ruby/Yang: AAAW~!
Weiss: SHUT UP~!
Blake: (Thinking about Sun, Smiling)
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From Goth to Ghost (part 2)
Here's part 2 to my @ecto-implosion fic for @blonchie's incredible art! Check out both of their pieces HERE!
Characters: Sam, Danny, Tucker Tags/warnings: No Warnings, Halfa!Sam (temporarily) Summary: The last thing Sam expected to wake up to was her body frozen on her bed. But unfortunately, thanks to a certain jock's midnight ponderings and the interference of one wish-granting ghost, that was exactly how she started off her morning.
[read on ao3]
[part 1]
****
Somehow, through sheer force of luck, and—well, actually, no, it was all luck—she managed to survive the school day with little more than a bruised knee.
But at least no one saw her fall!
Is what she would have thought if that were true. Unfortunately, everyone in her history class had seen her spectacular tumble to the floor. And yes, most of them had also laughed.
Which was the icing on the cake.
But, she supposed it could have been worse. She could have been like Danny who'd infamously dropped forty-two beakers and cost the school so much in damaged equipment that he was banned from ever handling fragile objects again.
Unlike Danny, however, she actually had a brain. And some impulse control. So perhaps that was why, unlike him, she managed to stay mostly on her feet.
She had to be nice to him, she reminded herself. He was the one who was going to teach her how to use these powers. She wasn't allowed to make fun of him for being a butterfingers—she wasn't going to say a word.
Of course, that promise lasted all of a minute after the final bell rang.
Actually, she wasn't sure she'd even made it off the property before she was smugly rubbing it in Danny's scrawny face that unlike him, she actually managed to keep her shit (mostly) together during school. That it was obvious that in this competition of who could be the better halfa she'd only just invented, she was winning by a mile.
And no, his protesting and whining didn't change a thing.
"Face it, Danny, I'm just better at being dead. What can I say? It's the goth in me."
"No way! I'm so much better at being dead. Skulker even wants to skin me and turn me into his rug because of how good I am at being dead!"
"Please! Skulker will turn anything that moves into a rug. You're not that special."
"You both are fantastic at being dead. Happy?" Tucker asked.
"Only after I get all this energy out!" Sam looked around, confirming that they were alone in the treeline of the park. Her heart pounded slightly, but her excitement won out. She barely contained her grin as she turned to Danny and asked, "Here?"
"Sure," Danny said.
"How often do you come here again?" Tucker asked. Beside him was a tree with marks running along the bark that suspiciously resembled ecto-burns.
"Now? Almost never. But especially when I first got my ice powers, I was here a lot. The sudden shift in my core energy was pretty intense at first. You guys remember."
Tucker snorted and leaned back against the trunk, folding his arms. "Oh yeah. You nearly froze half the city over!"
"It wasn't pretty," Sam agreed, then faced a tree. "So what, I'm just supposed to blast it? I don't wanna hurt the plant!"
"Yeah, Danny, plants have feelings too!" Tucker agreed with a shit-eating grin.
One that Sam definitely knew wasn't sincere. "Oh, shut up, Tucker."
Danny face-palmed. "You won't hurt the tree. I've done this plenty of times." Then, he paused, adopting that aloof expression that so-often had Sam throwing her combat boot at his head. It was an agonizing pause before he finally opened his mouth and forced Sam and Tucker to listen to him say, "Or, I guess you could say I've done it plant-y of times."
Sam had never felt so disappointed in him in her life. But he didn't seem to notice, instead facing them with a proud chuckle as he continued the torture, saying, "Hah, get it? Plant-y? Get it? Like plenty but with plants?"
He bent over, clutching his knees with his hands as weak chuckles forced their way up his throat and desecrated the natural air around them.
"My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined," Tucker responded.
"I agree," Sam said.
"Well I could leaf you two right here!"
It took two full, long, painful minutes before Danny could stand upright without bursting into another fit of giggles. By the end of it, Sam was pretty sure that if he laughed over his awful puns one more time, she was going to use him for target practice instead of the tree.
"Okay, okay. I'm good now, I promise," Danny said. "I'm not going to branch out into a new—"
It was with Sam's deepest regrets that the last of her restraint failed her and she ended up blasting the ground at Danny's feet, causing him to leap into the air with a yelp and reflexively throw his hands out as if to defend himself. Except, what he'd forgotten, was that he didn't have a ghost core anymore, and thus couldn't do things like fly or blast Sam back, and he ended up with his ass on the ground.
Of course, Sam apologized from the bottom of her heart. It was incredibly convincing, which she knew because Danny totally didn't roll his eyes and "yeah yeah" her when she was done.
Once everyone got back on their feet, the real work could begin. Except...
Sam crossed her arms. "I'm still not blasting a tree. We need trees for the environment, Danny."
"I told you! They're fine. They like being blasted!"
Sam glared.
"I don't know, you're the tree whisperer! Do any of these trees look like they're dying?" Danny asked.
Other than the minor, surface-level burn marks she saw on a few trees, she couldn't see any significant damage.
"Fine, but only because there's literally nowhere else for us to practice in Amity Park," Sam conceded. "So, how exactly do I do this?"
Danny’s face lit up. "So you feel that cold spot in your chest?"
Sam touched her chest. She could feel it, and with the growing anticipation of being used, it had began silently humming like a songbird. It was gentle, but excited all the same. "Yeah, I do feel it."
"Grab it. That should trigger your transformation. From there, it's just a matter of taking the energy and directing it. The more electric feeling ones are the blasts, and ice is colder."
Sam mentally poked at the core, and it almost jumped back at her, desperate to be brought to the forefront. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and this time when she mentally poked it, she didn't back away.
The transformation felt like being dunked in the Arctic Sea. Cold energy zapped through her spine as bright light overtook her vision. The rings split and traveled apart, and she shivered as she felt the energy course through her body like a charged magnet. It was spiky and tangy, and yet strangely smooth and right.
She closed her eyes as the rings washed over her face and sizzled into her aura. Her body lightened, and her feet left the ground. She threw her arms out to the side and took a moment, feeling every sense heighten—her ears, her nose. It was as if she could hear every rustling leaf and smell each blade of grass. When her eyes opened, the world had sharpened, and she could see tiny details in the distance with more clarity than she thought possible.
"Whoa," was all she could think to say.
"I know, right?" Danny smiled.
"Wow. I had no idea this is what your vision was like." Sam glanced down at him. "It's like putting on glasses or something. That's insane."
Tucker whistled. "You pull off the goth-ghost look pretty well! A little too much Danny, though. Too bad!"
Sam had nearly forgotten that her appearance had changed. She swiveled around—a little clumsily, she wasn't used to this whole flying thing—to face Tucker who had his phone already prepped and raised on camera mode. Leaning forward, she saw herself. Her previously black hair, like Danny's, had turned white, and her hair elastic holding up her half-ponytail glowed ectoplasmic green. Her eyes too had taken on that acid green color from their previous violet. Her suit was very much the classic Phantom suit with its black body, white gloves and boots, and the white DP logo on her chest. The only minor difference was unlike Danny's straight-lined white loop at the waist, hers was shaped like a V.
She backed away from the phone camera slightly, twirling so she could see more of herself. Sam had never particularly been one for appearances, and she certainly always scoffed at the way the A-Listers like Paulina liked to make their appearance the center of the Universe, but even she had to admit that yeah, she really did pull off the ghost look well.
Well, if that wasn't an extremely goth thing to think, Sam didn't know what was.
"I'm stealing your look, Danny," she joked.
He returned her grin. "Careful, and I might have to steal yours right back."
Tucker laughed. "Yeah, I'd love to see you in a skater skirt."
Sam rolled her eyes. Boys.
"So, what, I just direct the energy into my hands and then that's how I blast things?" she asked.
"Yup! Try it out."
"Just don't hit me!" Tucker called, retreating back to his tree trunk where he settled down on the grass and leaned back to return his attention to his phone.
"Just for that, I'll hit you twice!"
"Go for it!" Danny encouraged.
"Shut up!"
Sam steeled herself, facing off against the tree. Even if logically the ectoplasmic blast wasn't going to hurt it, the thought of blasting a tree was a little much for her. So, gathering her energy, she decided to get a little creative.
The chill covered her body like a blizzard, and she'd seen Danny do this enough times to know that her eyes were glowing blue. It surged forth, propelling down her arms and through the tips of her fingers until there was nowhere for it to go but out.
Ice billowed into the open air with more force than she was expecting. Like a blizzard, it wanted to commandeer the woods and fill every inch of the ground with spikes. She strained her fingers, forcing them to flex toward her palm. The ice followed her direction, collecting in one singular mound rather than fanning out. It wasn't smooth or delicate like she'd envisioned, but it worked.
Eons later, but it was likely only a few seconds, she finally let go and the last of the power dwindled from her fingertips. She'd been pushed back slightly, and she drifted back toward Danny and Tucker.
"Not bad!" Danny said, bringing his hands down from their position shielding his face. "A little rough around the edges, but overall that's pretty damn good!"
Sam looked to her creation, the mound of ice that didn't really have much of a shape, but it existed and she'd made it. Pride surged through her, and she raised her fists in the air with a triumphant cry. "Fuck yeah!"
"An ice show? Now she's really stealing your style, dude," Tucker said.
Invigorated by her small win, Sam whirled around and tried again, this time picturing a shape. Something simple, she thought, like a box.
Actually making her vision come to life was more difficult than she'd anticipated, and she wasn't exactly perfect. It resembled more of a rectangular shape than the cube she'd been picturing, and one of the corners was definitely jutting out—not to mention that big ice spike sticking out right in the center—but once again, she'd done it!
And then, now with a target that wasn't a living plant, she switched her core over, tapping into the icy hot, tingly acid that dominated her senses. Like the ice, it was more than happy to respond, lighting her body with what she could only describe as pure and unfiltered energy. Her hair stood on its ends, and she could see her aura’s glow intensify as she raised her green palms and let out a singular blast.
The whiplash was intense, and she flew back, her spine hitting a branch behind her. The blast hit its target—not perfectly, of course, but with all her practicing with the ecto-gun, she had been at least confident that she wouldn't miss.
The semi-cube splintered, and the jutting corner that she'd hit fell into the ground and shattered to pieces.
Sam pushed herself off the tree, a giggle of adrenaline crawling up her throat. "Holy shit!"
Danny stared at her, mouth agape.
"Guys!" She lowered herself, her feet touching down on the now-frosted ground. "Did you see that? How cool was that?"
"That was fucking awesome!" Danny said, nearly jumping over to Sam with bright eyes.
"Right? It was so insane! How do you control the power level? It all came out in a giant flood, I could barely see! And you can make low-powered ones? How the hell do you do that?"
"Ah, yeah." Danny rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "I'm not sure? I just kind of dial the power level down. Like, in my core, I mean."
"Wow, Danny, you're so helpful!" Despite her excitement, she managed to get the sarcasm across.
"Hey, don't look at me! I haven't had these powers for that long, you know."
"Like over a year! And you haven't even sat down to study them at all?"
"Has it really been a year?" Danny asked.
"Yes, space-case!"
"Superpowers, ice blasting, blah, blah! You know what else is cool?" Tucker cut into their bantering, tapping away at his phone. He paused to wave it in the air. "Yo, lovebirds! Ember was spotted downtown!"
Sam and Danny froze, eyes glancing between each other and Tucker's phone.
Sam was the one to first break the silence. "Alright, let's go!"
Danny reeled back. "What do you mean, let's go?"
"I mean exactly what it sounds like. Let's go! Ember's downtown and is probably hypnotizing a bunch of people right now, so we have to go save them! Let's go!"
"Wait, wait, back up," Tucker said, holding his hand out. "You're gonna fight her? Ember?"
Sam huffed. "Well, duh! Who else? Danny? The one without ghost powers right now?"
"Well, I do have more experience—"
"Fighting with ghost powers, you do!" Sam retorted.
"Hey, I have some experience fighting in human form too, you know! Vlad's shorted out my powers plenty of times..." He broke off, grumbling.
"Okay, well, I'm the one with the firepower right now, unless you forgot. So let's go! Seriously, I'm not gonna wait around for you two if you want to stay here thinking about it. The sooner we get there, the easier it'll be to take Ember down."
Danny stood here, brow furrowed and hand rubbing the back of his neck for another beat until he finally relented with a sigh. "Fine," he said, holding out his arm for flight. "Go on!"
Actually figuring out how to get the three of them into the air invisibly was harder than Danny had been making it look. In her defense, he didn't start flying the three of them together until over a month after he'd first acquired his ghost powers, and Sam was out here trying to do it on day one.
Especially since she found that unless she was constantly paying attention to the invisibility, it had a bad habit of shortening out.
Which it did. Twice.
And that was where the phone call came from.
It was her mom, of course, who'd been watching the news and had seen flickers of Danny and Tucker being "kidnapped"—as she'd so elegantly called it—by Phantom. Now, her mom was entirely convinced that the three of them had been kidnapped or brainwashed or both by Phantom, and would not let Sam explain that she was safe and sound.
Especially since Ember was currently downtown. Where Phantom had been spotted with his equally captive audience.
"Shit," Sam swore, hanging up her phone and stuffing it into her backpack that Danny was now holding. "I don't know what to do! My mom is on her way down here to come rescue me!"
"Then turn back into yourself?" Tucker said.
Sam heard a scuffle, and she peeked around the dumpster to glance down the alley they were hiding in, but fortunately, the source of the sound was only a squirrel.
She turned back to her friends. "I can't! I have to go stop Ember. You saw the crowd she'd already amassed! That busking performance is going to turn into a mob before we know it."
"Sam's right," Danny conceded, surprising Sam. He held her gaze, and his eyes were steel. It was an expression she'd only seen come out when Phantom was involved. "She can't go home. As much as I hate to admit it, I don't think I can stop Ember in human form. Sam has to be the one to fight her."
"Okay, then who's fighting Mrs. Manson?" Tucker asked. "Because that woman can be a freaking force when she wants to be."
"Easy!" Danny snapped his fingers. "We’ll just do the old switcheroo!"
Sam and Tucker looked at him blankly.
"The what?" Tucker blurted.
"You know! Like you guys did for me!" Danny opened the small front pocket of Sam’s backpack, and before she could protest, he brought out a little black hairband like it was some sort of prize. To her utter confusion, he began pulling the longer strands of his hair back and forming something of a messy half-ponytail. "Ta da! How do I look?"
"Danny, what the hell?" Sam asked deadpan.
"I told you, didn't I? You steal my Phantom style, and I'm going to steal yours."
Tucker guffawed. "Oh man, I was joking before, but are you really about to put on a skater skirt?"
"Not unless you want to. But something tells me Mrs. Manson won't be convinced if you try to be Sam."
"It's my eyes, I know," Tucker bantered. “They’re just too beautiful to be Sam’s.”
"Definitely your eyes," Sam agreed, then turned back to Danny. "You're being for real right now? You're cool with pretending to be me and letting my mom chase you around town while I deal with Ember?"
"Listen, my stamina's gotten pretty good fighting ghosts."
"My mom does crossfit."
"I thought she did pilates?" Tucker asked.
"She does that too."
Tucker tsked his tongue. "Oh shit, Danny, you're screwed. You can still back out, you know."
Danny rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine! Being chased by ghosts all the time has built me some endurance, you know."
“Some?” Tucker asked.
“More than you have, anyway.”
"Alright, let's do this," Sam agreed.
Her boldness only lasted so long, unfortunately. The clothing swap was just as awkward to do as it sounded. Tucker, laughing maniacally, was forced to stand guard facing away from them as Sam transformed back into human form, they swapped outfits, and uncomfortably redressed behind the smelly dumpster. Only when they'd both given the verbal consent that they were decent again did they turn around and survey each other.
Sam felt as ridiculous in her new attire as she was sure Danny did in his. While she was normally used to her tighter, dark clothing, she felt like she was swimming in his baggy, bright white T-shirt and blue jeans.
"You guys are good?" Tucker yelled.
"Yup!" Danny called back.
"Hang on!" Tucker said, rushing over to them with a speed he hadn’t even reserved for gym class. As soon as he caught sight of them, he burst into laughter. "Oh, man! Oh my god, I gotta get a picture of this!"
"Tucker!" Sam stomped her floppy red feet. "Danny's doing me a solid right now!"
Tucker ignored her, pulling out his phone and not being subtle about the way he'd begun pointing it directly at the two of them. "I know I said I wanted to see you in a skater skirt, dude, but I never thought it'd actually come true!"
Danny took it in stride, putting one hand on the back of his hair and the other on his hip to strike a model pose. "As I said: Sam steals my style, I'm taking hers!"
That sent Tucker into another fit of giggles.
"You're sure about this?" Sam asked, watching as Danny bent down to lace his combat boots.
"Totally!" He gave her a cheesy smile from his crouched position. "I got this! You go get Ember!"
"Right!" Sam touched her core, and this time the transformation washed over her with easy familiarity. At once, her body felt light as gravity became optional, and she levitated into the air, inhaling a deep breath despite being keenly aware that she didn't really need to anymore.
Her aura settled around her skin as her veins became rich with ectoplasmic power, and when she opened her eyes to give one last look to her friends, she did so with determination in her eyes.
"Okay, I'm ready."
"Hell yeah, you are," Tucker agreed.
"You got this!" Danny said.
She nodded to them both once more and then took off, shooting down the alley and swooping up into the sky. She climbed the air high until she spotted Ember's rapidly growing crowd, and then with acrobatic ease, dived down in the direction of Ember's glowing figure.
As she approached, the crowd that hadn't seemed too large from the sky suddenly looked much more intimidating up close. She stopped above them, surveying the sea of chanting faces.
"Ember! Ember!"
No one had noticed Sam yet, too entranced by Ember’s spell. And there was Ember herself at the center of the crowd, twirling to wave to the crowds all around her.
"Thank you, everyone! Thank you!"
"Ember! Ember!"
This wasn't good. If they fought here, Ember would have a never-ending energy supply from the crowd's chanting. Like most ghosts, fighting Ember was a battle of endurance, and here, Ember could endure for hours. Meanwhile, Sam...had no idea what her limits were.
She probably couldn't last that long, based on Danny's early fights.
So, Sam needed to get Ember away from her adoring fans. But how?
The first time Danny had to fight Ember, they used Tucker's ear-bleeding singing voice to snap the crowd out of their hypnosis. And...she'd left Tucker in the alley.
Shit!
Okay, so she couldn't use Tucker. Turning invisible, she flew lower, scanning the crowd to see if there was anyone else she recognized who probably had an equally terrible singing voice.
And...there! Perfect.
Ember's back was still to Sam, and she was still too distracted by her narcissism to notice Sam creeping forward, at first slowly, closer and closer until she was just fifteen feet away from Ember.
And that's when Sam saw it—Ember's shoulders stiffened. She'd noticed the chill of Sam's aura, and so before Sam could think, she shot forward, ripping the microphone from its stand at the same time as Ember whirled around.
Sam regained visibility and darted back triumphantly, a whoop at her lips.
"You—" Ember stopped, her fierce brows melting into an expression of pure confusion. "Wait, you're not the dipstick!"
Sam didn't respond, instead flying down to greet her future savior: Kwan.
"Do you love Ember?" she yelled into the mic and then held it to Kwan's face.
"Yeah I do!" Kwan answered.
Behind him, the crowd roared in approval.
Ember's face pinched in confusion.
"So why don't you show us how much you love her by singing one of her songs?"
Kwan snatched the microphone from Sam's fingers, his eagerness overtaking all sense of reason. At the same time, still in the center of the crowd was Ember, who—based on her shifting facial expression—was just now catching up to Sam's master plan.
But she was too late. Because as soon as Kwan opened his mouth, Sam had already won.
"Ember! You will remember!"
If Sam Googled the definition of tone-deaf, she was pretty sure Kwan's name would appear as the first entry. For as athletically inclined and blessed with powerlifting genetics as the teenager was, his musical skills were....well, not even lacking, they were nonexistent. It was as if Kwan had never tried to sing before in his life. But, either through Ember's spell, his general affinity to being a total airhead, or a combination of both, he was so invested in belting out every approximation to a note that he could muster that he didn't notice the instantly dulled crowd around him as people began snapping out of their hypnosis.
"What happened?" a girl muttered nearby.
"Why does my head hurt?" a boy said.
"Ugh, what's that awful sound?"
"Ember! One thing remains!"
“I think that boy is dying.”
“Should someone call an ambulance?”
"No!" Ember screeched, her legs disappearing into a ghost tail as she abandoned all pretense of acting human and clawed at Kwan.
Sam raised a hand and blasted her away.
Ember recovered swiftly, pulling up midair and grabbing her guitar off her back. "You!" she bellowed, and then strummed a note, sending shockwaves crashing into the crowd that Sam couldn't dodge.
"Ah!" Sam was forced to kneel under the pressure of the soundwaves. Around her, people screamed.
She activated her ice and used it to push her body upright. Gripping onto one ice tower for support, she raised her other hand and sent a blast of ice Ember's way.
Ember dodged smoothly, but the movement had taken her hand off her guitar, and thus interrupted her torturous playing.
Sam steadied herself with the reprieve. Beside her, Kwan groaned, now waking up too after Ember’s attack.
"Ugh…where am I?"
"Don't worry about it," Sam hissed. Then she spun around, grabbing the microphone from Kwan's hand to address the crowd. "Attention everyone! The ghost Ember is targeting this area! Go home or run to a safe zone!"
"You little twerp!" Ember screeched from above.
Meanwhile, the crowd was looking at her blankly.
"Wait...since when is Phantom a girl?" Kwan asked.
Ah. That would be why.
Sighing, she raised the microphone back to her lips. "Yes, everyone, I'm Phantom's...sister. Yup, I'm his sister! He's, uh, on vacation right now and asked me to cover for him! Hello, nice to meet you all. Now please RUN!"
And with that, the crowd took off, running in every which direction. It was chaos, but the people were leaving and that's what Sam wanted.
She dropped the microphone and turned around to face her foe. "Hey, Ember!" she called, her voice catty.
"You're not Phantom's sister. Who the hell are you?"
Sam floated into the air until she was at eye-level with the rocker ghost. "I'm Sam! Remember me? I'm Danny's best friend."
"I thought the geeky weirdo nerd was his best friend."
"I'm the other best friend!"
It took a moment before recognition dawned on her features. Her green eyes widened, and the blue flames on her hair somehow sharpened as she leaned forward, eyes narrowing and lips curving into a smile as she said, "Ooh, I remember you. You were the one who ruined my debut!"
Sensing the challenge, Sam flared her aura in kind. "That's right! Now I've returned."
“Since when were you a ghost?”
“Don’t worry about it!”
"I’m not. I'm gonna make you pay, dipstick number two!"
Ember raised her purple pick to strum just as Sam hoisted her glowing hand up. The two released their powers simultaneously and their energies clashed in midair, sending ectoplasm and sonic booms crashing all around.
Below them, people screamed and ducked down, cowering as the blasts showered over them.
Sam blanched, but barely had time to take in the damage before she saw Ember's hand raised again, her guitar poised for another attack.
"Shit!" Sam raised both hands this time, pushing more energy into the countering blast. But she missed, and Ember's wave hit her like a semi truck.
She was catapulted down, slamming onto the pavement which cracked under her. Pain blossomed on her head, and she thought her vision may have flickered for a second.
But while this kind of injury would have certainly sent her to the emergency room as a human, as a ghost, all she could feel was the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She rolled over and shot out to the side, narrowly dodging Ember's next attack. The edges of the sonic blast still hit her, but she was able to push through the pressure and climb back into the air.
She couldn't fight Ember here. Not so close to all these people.
When Ember raised her hand again, grinning wickedly, Sam shot a blast of ice over to her. Though this time, aiming for the strings of her guitar.
It was a risk, but it paid off. The ice met its mark milliseconds before Ember's pick landed, and at once, the guitar strings were covered in a layer of ice.
Sam laughed. "It's my first day as a ghost, did I forget to mention that? How does it feel to be beaten by a newbie?"
Ember's face darkened, cheeks flushing with green. "Why you little asshole!"
"Oh yeah?" Sam goaded. "Why don't you say that to my face?"
Without waiting for a reply, Sam took off in the other direction. She had the thermos, but Ember wasn't weak enough yet for it to trap her inside. Sam had to wear her down first.
"Get back here!" Ember shouted, but Sam paid no heed, racing down the street and twisting between buildings.
The wind whipped across her body, stinging her exposed cheeks. Cold tears welled at the corners of her eyes, but she made no move to wipe them away. Ember was gaining on her. She needed to fly faster, fly faster.
She pushed her core more until it was at its limits. Street signs, LED lights, and the shapes of people blurred into one. She'd never moved this fast in her life, and like driving down an icy road, she could feel her control slowly slipping away. Panicked, she called forth her intangibility.
Fatigue was beginning to bubble in her chest, but she batted it away. It was too early. She couldn't give up yet.
Ember screamed behind her, hurling fire from her hair. It licked Sam's spectral tail, and she yelped, rolling sideways and narrowly avoiding the brunt of the attack.
She shot down an alley and out the other side into a residential neighborhood. Looking around, she didn't see anyone out and about nearby.
Perfect.
She stopped in the air and whipped around just in time to see Ember throw another fire blast her way.
Sam raised her hands, forming an ice shield. The fire melted it instantly, and she tried to form another, but she wasn't quick enough.
"Shit!" Sam yelled, ducking down as the fire sailed over her head. She could feel the heat singe the tip of her ponytail. Too close.
"That's right! Cower, dipstick! Just lie down and give up!"
Sam straightened, firing another ectoblast back at Ember, who dodged it by a hair's breadth. "The only person cowering here is you, hiding behind all those fake fans!"
Ember glared, her eyes burning with rage. "They're my fans and you took them from me!"
"You hypnotized them! They were never your fans to begin with!" Then she paused. "Well, Tucker might have been your fan anyway, but still!"
That didn't seem to quell Ember's rage, who sent a gust of fire that Sam only barely had time to counter with a blast of ice.
"Just admit it! You've lost!" Sam said. "So why don't you pack up and go home?"
"I can still get them back!"
Sam had to refrain from rolling her eyes hard enough to send them flying off her skull. "No, you can't. I won't let you!"
"Like you're the boss of me!" Ember geared up to shoot more fire at Sam, but then out of seemingly nowhere, a blast of green nailed her shoulder.
Sam spun around, the question dying from her lips the moment she saw who was behind her.
Tucker stumbled out from between two houses. He coughed, half hunched over from panting so hard, half cheering with a single-raised fist. "Booya!" he gasped, sucking in air in between each word. "And that's...what I...like...to call...a sneak attack."
And with that, he collapsed on the ground in a sweating heap of gaudy orange and yellow clothing.
"Tucker!" Sam shouted, reaching out as if to save him.
"Who?" Ember asked.
"Sam!" came another voice from Tucker's hiding place, this one filling her with relief.
Well, until he stepped out into view and she remembered how entirely ridiculous he looked in her black skater skirt, purple leggings, and black crop top.
She grinned. "Danny!"
"I'm all good!" Tucker craned his head up from the sidewalk. "Don't...don't worry about me! I'm gucci here!"
"I'm so glad my mom didn't kidnap and murder you!" Sam said.
Danny smiled mischievously. "Your mom spotted me as planned, and then I ran in the other direction. Managed to shake her off somewhere between Elmer's Park and the Nasty Burger. As far as she's aware, we got out of downtown safely! Though, she might ground you later for ignoring her when she was following you."
"She was....so fast..."
"And persistent," Danny added.
"That...too..."
Sam face-palmed. "Oh man, I'm so grounded later."
"Yup! You are." Danny said, seeming far too cheery for the torturous news he'd just delivered to Sam.
"Okay, okay. Pause." Ember held up her hands in the universal time-out gesture. "What the fuck is going on here, exactly?"
"Oh, hey, Ember!" Danny said as if noticing her for the first time. "How's it hanging?"
"How's it hanging?" Ember guffawed. She pointed to Sam. "Well, your sister just ruined my evening, so pretty shit, actually."
Danny didn't look at all remorseful as he responded, "Oh, bummer! Well, I'll just have to let this supposed-sister handle the rest of it. As you can tell, I'm really not dressed for the ghost-fighting occasion!"
He turned to Sam, offering her a thumbs-up as he said, "You got this!"
Sam smirked, folded her arms, and turned back to Ember. "Yeah, I do got this."
"For sure!" Tucker added, though he still sounded far too on the verge of passing out to offer any sort of confidence.
"So, Ember, you wanna go for round two?" Sam asked.
Ember blinked, gaze swiveling between Sam and Danny, and then again, before she threw her hands up and cried, "No, seriously, what the fuck?"
"I ask myself that same question every day," Tucker said.
"It's called an outfit swap!" Danny said, sweeping his hands over his outfit. "It's all the rage with us teens nowadays."
"You look fucking insane, you know," Ember said.
"You mean I look gorgeous."
"I didn't."
"I think Sam pulls off the ghost look pretty well, though. Don't you think?" Danny asked.
"It's totally goth," Sam agreed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Then, summoning some ectoplasmic energy to her palms, she added, "I think the green really suits me, too."
"It does!" Danny said.
"I'm so confused."
"Aren't we all?" Tucker said.
"You know what? No." Ember threw her hands up. "Nope! Fuck this shit. Listen, I don't know what the hell is going on, but I refused to be sucked into your weirdo shenanigans tonight. I'm out of here!"
Sam's brows raised in shock. Was confusing Ember really all it took to get her to go back to the Ghost Zone? "You're being for real?" she asked.
"Yup!" Ember pivoted around until her back was to the trio. "I'm going back to the Zone. I'm tired. See ya!"
And with that, she disappeared.
The three of them waited a heartbeat, and then another. But then, Sam felt it: the telltale coolness of her chest receding as her ghost sense ceased detecting Ember around her.
Tucker struggled to his feet. "Are we sure she's actually going to the Ghost Zone?"
"Yeah, she will," Danny said, unconcerned. "When she gives you that look, you know she's over it."
"Wow, congrats then, Sam. You beat Ember!"
Celebratory giddiness washed over her, and she didn't try to fight the smile that overtook her lips. "Wow. Yeah, guys, I did it! I beat Ember!"
Above them, a window slid open. Then, a voice boomed out into the open air, filling the street with a cry so insane, that Sam could have sworn her head exploded right then and there.
"WHOA! PHANTOM! IS THAT YOU?"
Danny cringed, ducking down into his hands while Sam plastered a smile on her face and turned around to meet who could easily turn into her greatest foe of the evening: Dash Baxter.
"Uh, hi," Sam said.
He gasped and leaned so far, he nearly fell out his window. "IT IS YOU! MY WISH CAME TRUE!"
"Your...wish?" Sam asked.
"YEAH! I WISHED PHANTOM WAS A HOT CHICK INSTEAD OF BEING A DUDE, AND THEN BA-BAM! YOU TURNED INTO A HOT CHICK!"
Below them, Tucker guffawed. Thankfully, Dash seemed too preoccupied in his fanboying to notice.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE MY WISH CAME TRUE! THANK GOD! IT WAS TOO WEIRD CRUSHING ON A DUDE, YOU KNOW?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Danny slowly make his way back between the houses and, thankfully, out of Dash's eyeline.
For as exhausted as Tucker was, he quickly followed suit.
"Well...um...thanks? I guess?" Sam looked around as if to plan her escape. But unfortunately, she couldn't see one. It would have been so much easier if Ember had lied and instead of returning to the Ghost Zone, tried to attack her right here and now. That might have been preferable to whatever the hell was happening in front of her.
When the silence turned from awkward to entirely painful, Sam jabbed her thumb over her shoulder and said, "Uh, I'm gonna go now."
"WAIT!"
"What?" Sam asked, internally admonishing herself for responding.
"WILL YOU BE MY GHOST GIRLFRIEND?"
She heard a choke of laughter sound from behind the house, and she shot a glare to the two idiots in hiding.
"Thanks for asking, but...sorry, I have to say no. I'm very busy fighting ghosts, you know."
Dash nodded with more empathy in his eyes than Sam had ever seen him display in his life. "I UNDERSTAND. THANKS ANYWAY AND ENJOY THE TITS!"
Sam would have loved to say that she maintained Phantom's pristine people-pleasing image by giving grace to every single citizen no matter what.
But, of course, Dash was a fucking moron. And as far as Sam was concerned, morons like him deserved to have their face punched in every once in a while.
So, shaking the bruise from her knuckles, she rejoined her friends. Danny's face was beet red, while Tucker, on the other hand, was wheezing laughing so hard, his airy gasps of, "I'm going to piss myself" took about five tries to sound intelligible.
"No funny, Tucker!" Sam glared.
"Are you kidding?" His eyes were wet with tears. "That was hilarious! Dash has a crush on both of you! Oh my god, that was the single greatest thing to ever happen in my life!"
Danny fell to his knees and raked his fingers over his face. "I'm never living this down, am I?"
"Never!" Tucker howled.
"I want to go back to a time where I never had to hear Dash speak," Sam mourned, then she flexed her fists, brightening slightly. "Though, punching him felt pretty cathartic!"
"Wish that were me," Danny bemoaned.
"He'll probably blame you for it anyway, so consider it done."
Tucker doubled over, rasping in uncontrollable laughter all over again. "Oh man, and you punched him! You actually punched him!"
"Hell yeah I did." Her eyes glinted over to Danny, who was still growing redder by the second. "Call that payback for getting me grounded."
"Fair," he said.
"I can't fucking believe you punched him, and that he has the hots for y'all—this is the greatest day of my LIFE"
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!"
"You know," Sam said, cutting the boys off, "at least we learned something."
"Yeah, we did," Tucker giggled, clearly not thinking along the same lines as her.
Sam zapped him with her finger and ignored his subsequent yelp, continuing, "We learned that he wished for you to change! I bet you anything Desiree was the cause of this."
Danny perked up. "Wait, you're right! If Dash wished this, that definitely means Desiree was involved."
"So, what? We just find her and wish ourselves back to normal again?" Tucker asked.
That was, in fact, exactly what it meant.
The trio searched high and low for any unusual wishes that had come to light, but unfortunately for them, it seemed that Desiree had practiced laying on the down-low since her last escapade into the Human Realm. That also meant she was incredibly difficult to find.
So difficult, in fact, that despite searching for her for another two hours and Sam receiving a text from her mom stating that if Sam didn't get her ass home right now, missy, then the cops were going to be called, they didn't actually find a single wisp of Desiree at all.
Well, not until in a moment of complete and utter exasperation, did Tucker throw in the metaphorical towel and shout into the air, "Ugh! Where is she? I wish Desiree would just show herself already so we could finally go home!"
The wind picked up, and a transcendental feminine voice graced the air, saying, "And so you have wished it, and so it shall be...."
Danny—now back in his normal attire—stared dumbstruck at Tucker. "I can't believe none of us thought of that earlier."
"Oh my god, guys, we're idiots," he agreed.
Sam could do little more than nod numbly as stray leaves and twigs gathered gently in the air, spiraling until the graceful form of Desiree, dressed in her blue and purple Persian attire, appeared before them. Her thick, black hair flowed down her back, fading at the ends midway down her spectral tail. She raised a silver-bangled hand, her glowing green skin standing out in the night air, and said, "Hello, you three. I had a feeling I would be seeing you soon."
"Yeah, you think?" Danny asked. "What gives?"
"I was merely granting a wish." Her red eyes trailed over to Sam, hovering at the ready just in case. "Though, it seems that you've already caught on."
"You could say that," Sam answered.
Desiree clasped her hands together, looking almost like a ballerina as she did so. "I'm assuming you would like me to set you right again?"
"Yes," Danny said readily.
"Please. I'm so tired," Tucker agreed.
Sam tilted her head. Despite the rocky start to her day, she'd done pretty damn well as a halfa if she did say so herself. And now that she was starting to get the hang of these ghost powers, they were very fun.
But in fairness, they weren't really her ghost powers to begin with. As fun as they were to borrow for the day, she knew she had to return them to their rightful owner. Even if it pained her to do so.
"Alright," she relented. "You can take them back. It's not like I'm going to be able to use them with how grounded I'm about to be, anyway."
"I'd be surprised if your mom didn't put surveillance in your room after this," Tucker said.
Yeah, she'd be surprised too.
Danny stepped forward, head held high as he commanded, "I wish my ghost core was back in my body!"
"So you have wished it, so it shall be!"
The air picked up around them, and Sam felt her body rise as an invisible blanket gently wrapped itself around her and hoisted her into the air. Her aura glowed like a thousand lightning bugs illuminating at once, and she shut her eyes, letting it take over. The core in her chest stirred, and her body was plunged into a snowstorm as it seemed to expand, growing stronger, stronger, until Sam was sure it would burst. But just before it became unbearable, like a marionette on a string, it was gently guided from her chest.
She gasped, her breath freezing in her lungs as the glowing orb of pure ectoplasmic energy exited her body. Her eyes flew open, and she watched as it slowly drifted to Danny who was floating across the way.
As soon as it entered his body, she felt the liquid ice that had been a constant in her veins since she'd woken up begin to recede as her enshrouding aura began to pull toward Danny. As the last strands of it left her fingertips, she was tenderly lowered to the ground.
Heat rushed into Sam’s body, filling in the gaps where the chill had abandoned her. A shiver crawled up her spine, and then her body settled, the heat dispersing around her torso, spreading out to the tips of her fingers and toes. It felt…strangely right, somehow, even as her chest was missing that persistent core.
There was a moment of silence where the world seemed to hold its breath, and then Danny raised a timid hand to his chest, and a grin spread across his lips. “I’m back.”
“Thank fuck!” Tucker cheered. “Now I can finally go home and sleep!”
“Congrats, Danny.” Sam offered a small smile, flexing her now-human fingers. Without the cold, all her bruises were beginning to hurt. At least the one on her knuckles was for a good cause.
“Thanks for keeping this safe for me,” Danny said.
“No problem.”
Desiree brushed the invisible dirt off her clothing. “Well, now that my work is done, I assume I’ll be off.”
“To the Ghost Zone, right?” Danny flashed his eyes at her.
It was a challenge, of course, that she picked up on instantly, giving a wry smile in return. “But of course.”
Danny insisted on accompanying her to the portal, which while he claimed was only because he wanted to be polite, Sam knew fully well was because he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her, even if their relationship had improved since their first few encounters. But true to her word, Desiree took the directive with grace, going through the portal to the Ghost Zone with little more than the tilt of her head Sam's way.
They watched the swirling green fizzle out from where Desiree had left them, and with a final sigh, Danny closed the portal doors behind her.
Tucker nearly slumped over his chair. "Oh, thank god. I thought this day was never going to end."
"Right?" Sam yawned, fatigue washing over her. "I'm beat."
"Well, at least you don't have to worry about not having the ghost powers anymore. 'Cause after this, your mom is definitely going to kill you."
Her stomach dropped. "Oh, fuck. I'd forgotten about that."
"At least you won't have to feel Dash's disappointment at being punched by his hero tomorrow." Danny slumped over.
"You could punch him too, you know. There's nothing stopping you," Sam pointed out.
Where she thought he would argue with her, he just tilted his head, as if weighing the options. "You know," he started, speaking slow. "I guess...yeah, I mean, I could punch him. It's not like I haven't already gotten enough detentions. One more wouldn't hurt. Or, do you think they'd suspend me?"
"Are you kidding?" Tucker snorted. "Dale and Austin were swinging at each other last week and they were sent back to class an hour later."
"Fair point."
"Alright, I better go home before my mom calls SWAT. Danny?"
"On it!" Danny sauntered over to them both, transforming. "Let’s get you guys back home."
"I've never heard such sweet words come out of your mouth before," Tucker said.
"Oh, shut up."
Sam wrapped her arm around his cold body, and instead of the ominous chill she normally felt around ghosts—even Danny, though she'd never tell him—this time, it felt oddly familiar. Comforting, even.
"I did pretty good today, admit it." She smirked at him.
"Don't get cocky now." He returned the grin and took off into the air. This time when he turned invisible and intangible to shoot through the basement, it was almost nostalgic to her skin. And when the air rushed over her face, she felt herself preen like a peacock in its gusts.
"But yes," Danny said, leaning into her once they leveled out over the air. "You did awesome."
She already knew she had, but the validation still made her feel warm all the same.
Well, until she had to step through her front door, at which point the click of a high heel and a screeching "SAMANTHA EMILY MANSON" pierced her ears.
And thus, her second death of the day commenced.
#ectoimplosion2024#danny phantom#my writing#fanfiction#dp fic#i was genuinely laughing while writing Dash's bit here#well also in the first chapter#but his dialogue with Sam here is probably my fave part
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The Couch in S8 and how it will tie to buddie canon, a 9-1-1 analysis
First of all, I'd like to say that this theory is based solely on observations made by myself and others, on camera and lighting choices which, as we all know, are always very important in a TV show. I'm NOT going to go back over the previous couch theory, 1. because I don't have the time and 2. because everything has already been said (Buck falling asleep on Eddie's couch because it's the only place he feels safe, Chris falling asleep in the same place, yada yada).
Next, this theory is going to be pretty much chronological, but I may be getting a little ahead of myself at times, sorry. In the end, you'll see, it makes sense, but I'm also going to ask you for a bit of imagination.
Let's dive into it!
Everything begins in 8x01. We get a scene between Buck, Tommy and Eddie, who are organizing a birthday party for Chris over a facecall. Eddie's couch makes its first appearance this season: Eddie sits on it to call Chris, and Buck and Tommy hide behind it.
Buck and Tommy share a moment. It's cute to see Buck so comfortable in his relationship and his attraction. Well, Tommy is awkward but, are you surprised? (no) As Eddie starts the call, Buck and Tommy jump from behind the couch and we get the first frame interesting enough for this analysis.
What can we say? Eddie is alone on the couch, Buck on his left and Tommy on his right.
(Eddie is once again between Buck and Tommy. In all their scenes together, there's always someone in between the other two. That's not the point here but I love to point it out.)
Buck isn't with Eddie, he's standing behind the couch. It's acting like a physical separation. Buck can only watch Eddie's pain from a distance as the call goes on, and he is useless. Powerless.
That will be the case throughout the early part of this season.
Buck doesn't do anything about Chris and Eddie.
Eddie doesn't talk to Buck about Chris at all. They don't share a single scene alone in the privacy of one of their homes. There's always someone with them - Tommy, the rest of the crew - or they're at the station. Eddie will talk about Chris to Hen, Bobby, the cheerleader's father, Father Brian, even Brad in 8x08. NEVER Buck.
There's also something interesting about the fact that Eddie and Buck don't really talk to each other until Tommy breaks up with Buck.
It's probably not conscious, but I really think Buck is actually distracted by Tommy. He's in this new relationship, it's good, it's cute, it's really different from what he's used to.
We'll see that this will eventually go away...
(A quick interlude: Of course this isn't the first time we've seen 3 people with the couch. It also happened with Buck, Eddie and Chris in S3 - yeah, when couch theory wasn't even a thing. They're on Buck's couch though, but I'm planting a seed in your mind, watch out...)
Next time, it's not Eddie's couch we're talking about, but Buck's. It appears in 8x05, when Buck is sitting in his armchair after returning from the hospital and Tommy is looking after him. There's a lot to say in this scene, but I'm going to focus on one or two things.
Do I even need to say it? Episode 5 was shot after episode 6. I can't stressed out how much it's hit after hit to show us that Buck and Tommy are not staying together (and indeed, Tommy breaks up in 8x06). I imagine the writers ran with the opportunity to show just how incompatible and how physically separated Buck and Tommy are, as well as drawing many parallels between Tommy and Eddie. Maybe I'll talk about that someday.
In this frame, Buck and Tommy are separated. Buck is sleeping in the armchair and Tommy on the couch. I know it's better to sleep in a sitting position when you've dislocated a shoulder, but they could have had Buck sleeping in his bed, snug in his pillows, Tommy next to him.
They didn't.
They made Tommy sleep on the couch. Buck's uncomfortable couch. The one I think he bought with Natalia (if I'm wrong, please don't hate me, season 6 is far in the back of my mind).
See, Tommy doesn't even fit properly on the couch. He's got his head on the armrest and he doesn't have a blanket that covers him completely. He doesn't fit into Buck's life, no matter how hard he tries. He's always out of place.
He chooses the couch Buck doesn't like, and he'll be the only one in this season so far to use it. Buck will never choose this couch, even if he thinks it's the right choice.
(By the way, Oliver said in an interview literally released before episode 8 that Buck's couch is uncomfortable.... Thanks for that, I know you're a couch theory truther Oliver.)
Next couch, 8x06. Eddie's Risky Business moment.
He dances in his living room and jumps on his couch twice. The first time to recreate the scene. The second time, he chooses to lie down on the couch to bask in the euphoria a little longer. Eddie has his first moment of pure joy in years, and it's on the couch that he decides to settle down and calm down. Not saying too much about it but I wanted to point it out.
Where it gets interesting, you know it, is when Buck arrives. Buck, who's just been dumped and once again chooses Eddie's house for a little comfort. He hands Eddie a beer and sits down first on the couch to drink his own.
Let's take a look at this last frame. The framing ticked me off as soon as I saw it, but I couldn't put my finger on why. Now, I know.
Eddie and Buck are sitting side by side, yes, but! If you pay close attention, you can see several things.
First, Buck appears completely in the frame, from shoulder to shoulder. He takes up most of the space, sitting upright on the couch, staring straight ahead.
On the other side, Eddie leans against the backrest, but in doing so, he moves out of frame. The arm and hand holding the beer are totally offscreen. He's looking to the side, not at Buck.
It's already a weird composition, a very pointed choice, because why aren't they both clearly visible in the frame? Why is Eddie a little off the side? This could have been filmed in a slightly less close-up shot, to show them both fully, but it's not. It's clearly a choice.
Let me direct your attention to the wall behind them. You'll see, it's interesting.
Between them, but rather on Eddie's side, what can we see? A picture. Yeah, but not a random one. You can see it more clearly on this frame of Eddie.
Yep. It's an art of Texas. Quite ugly if you ask me. (Eddie, you're clearly making some strange choices when it comes to decorating.)
I won't try to analyze this framework any further, as you've already understood what I'm getting at if you've been paying attention.
It's a foreshadowing of Eddie leaving for Texas.
So we got Eddie leaning away from Buck, a Texas pic on the wall between them, while Buck is just here, choosing Eddie's couch (and Eddie) for comfort after his breakup. It's where he feels safe. They don't need to talk, they have each other... or so he thinks. Sorry Buck.
Let's move on to 8x08. Where it all makes sense.
Very quickly: Eddie isn't making his call to Chris on the couch, but on his coffee table. First, what the hell? It's weird, unless you think he considers the couch a nice place to sit on, and that this conversation will be far from nice in his head. Indeed, he was right.
Buck shows up at Eddie's after baking way too much bread, because he almost called Tommy. By the way, the mere fact that he decided to go to Eddie's to stop himself from doing so speaks volumes, but let's not get into that.
(Look at his little basket, his bread all wrapped up. Why are you like that Buck.)
When he realizes that Eddie is seriously thinking of moving to El Paso... well, he supports him. He supports him, because that's what a best friend is supposed to do, right? He suggests to Eddie, and I quote, “we should move this party to the couch”.
By the way, this is the first time he's explicitly brought the couch to Eddie. And we know that when a character mentions something for the first time, it's to emphasize it.
It's the same with Eddie saying he's straight… or when he says “we?” after Buck's suggestion. They are in this together, and it's what Eddie realizes when Buck goes to sit on the couch... He doesn't have to do all that alone. (Take that little side analysis, my treat. I fucking love this scene, I want to dissect it.)
Buck sits on this couch he's chosen many times over the years.
It's THE couch, the one he always goes to when something is not right in his life. After he died, when he couldn't sleep at home. After his breakup.
He's the first to sit on it ... yes, just like in 8x06.
(This may seem trivial, of course, but the fact that he always chooses to go without waiting for Eddie... Imo, it screams “Buck will figure it all out first and Eddie will have to catch up with him later”. Or "Buck will be waiting for Eddie". Same with him already drinking his beer while Eddie struggles to open it. Maybe a bit far-fetched, but eh? Anyway.)
The setting of the scene is so cold, and I didn't realize it until I compared it with the other scenes on the couch. This creates quite a contrast.
(Sorry I need to talk about something. Let's open a analysis in the analysis.
Buck is dressed in blue - it's Eddie's color in the color theory - while Eddie is dressed in a brownish button down. When I first watched this scene last night, I didn't notice, but looking again… Don't these outfits remind you of anything?
Yeah. I know, they're not the same, but they're similar and it's enough for me to make the parallel. Buck was there for Eddie when Chris left, and he's now here for him when Eddie wants to move to Texas.
Something about "I love you, so I'm letting you go". I'm crying too, don't worry.)
Back to the couch.
Eddie is totally off-screen, he's gone compared to the last time we saw the couch. Buck is alone, something shifts on his face - I'm not gonna lie, it was like watching a fanfic from AO3 on my screen. I've read enough feelings realization to recognize something close. Okay, to be fair, I don't know if it's a total realization of his feelings, but it's a start... and how beautiful that it's happening on Eddie's couch.
The couch represents safety, love, family for Buck. We understood it in s6 when it was first brought up.
By sitting on it, Buck chooses this life with Eddie, in a way.
Can you see the frame with the Texas pic? It's now completely visible, in the frame. It's behind Buck, over his shoulder. Eddie's departure, and by extension Texas, will haunt Buck for a long time to come.
I have to say, this shot is incredible. The whole scene is. I want to play it again and again, I want it tattooed on my eyelids. I'm gonna think about it for 3 months.
In a few episodes, we've gone from Buck behind the couch - away from Eddie's problems, distracted by Tommy - to Buck on the couch, alone - totally there and available for Eddie, even though Eddie soon won't be.
After the breakup, Buck can finally talk to Eddie, care about him - not that he didn't before that, but he's finally free to throw himself back into his relationship with his best friend as before.
Buck has found his home, his couch, the relationship he's most comfortable in, but maybe it's only now, when Eddie's about to leave, that he realizes it.
The couch was never about Eddie - it was always about Buck and his relationship with him. So it's even more powerful to see him behind it in 8x01, on it with Eddie in 8x06 and finally all alone in 8x08.
(I didn't know Oliver confirmed the symbolism of the couch back in S6 but, once again, thank you Oliver.)
(Even if Tim Minear tries to say he doesn't know what it means... Please Tim, we know you're smarter than that).
So what can we expect from this couch for the rest of the season?
If Eddie is really leaving, which I don't believe, he might offer Buck his couch. If the couch is how Buck will realize that he has feelings for Eddie, I'm going to send a gift to everyone who's believed this theory since it first appeared. You're the real ones in this fandom.
If Eddie stays, I think we'll be getting more scenes with the couch. We could go from 3-2-1 to 1-2-3. Stay with me, and grab your imagination. We're going full in theory mode.
1 - Maybe we could have another scene, this time with Eddie alone on his couch? I could see this happening when he's packing, Buck not far away, and Eddie starts to wonder if this is really the right thing to do as his gaze lingers on Buck for a moment too long.
2 - We need two people on that couch again. I'm a big "Buddie first kiss in Eddie's kitchen" truther, but it could also happen on the couch.
Or they could have a big conversation together on it, that will eventually lead them to confess their feelings to each other later on. Maybe that's when Eddie decides to fight to get his son back, to not move in Texas? To confront his parents?
That's two scenes on the couch, two scenes where they don't really talk, even though the couch is an invitation to do so. I'd find it extremely interesting if their first real serious conversation this season took place here.
3 - Finally, we could go from Buck, Eddie and Tommy to something much better for a 3-characters scene on the couch, a configuration we've seen before: Buck, Chris and Eddie. It could even be the last scene of the season, and that wouldn't surprise me at all!
Just imagine: Buck and Eddie have confessed their feelings to each other, maybe Chris knows, maybe not. The three of them end up on this famous couch. Chris is in the middle, and Buck and Eddie look at each other over him, a smile on their lips.
Everything is fine, they've survived the end of the season disaster, Chris is back, they've finally found each other after years...
What an incredible parallel this would make with the beginning of the season! Where Buck was with Tommy, Chris away from his dad, Eddie depressed...
There, they could finally be happy on the damn couch. I have a very clear vision of this scene and I hope they make it a reality. We need our little Buckley-Diaz family together again. With buddie canon of course.
That's it, you've reached the end of this analysis-theory. I hope you enjoyed it. It took me 3 hours to write and I got lost in other theories, but hey! I had fun.
We're entering a 3-month hiatus so let's try to be kind to each other! Let's share our theories, fanarts, fanfics and edits to make this break a little more enjoyable!
If you want to give your opinion on this theory, you're free to do so here in the comments, or on twitter and bluesky (in both cases, I'm there under @/yamatomee).
Self promo mode, I write fanfics that you can find on AO3 under the username Beezethe! I have one coda about the buddie scene in 8x08, pure angst with no comfort... Feel free to give it a read!
#911abc#911spoilers#911show#buddie#buddiecanon#buck x eddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#buck buckley#buckley diaz family#christopher diaz#bucktommy this one isn't for you#couch theory#buddie endgame#gay eddie diaz#bi evan buckley#fan theory#911 theory#theory#couch theory is alive and well#buck and eddie
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Ok you guys I went to sleep at 1 am and woke up at fucking 5 am to watch arcane so here are my thoughts/review:
After I finished it, first of all, I was mad lmao, then I thought about it for a moment and I started crying, but like ugly crying with sobs and everything because holy shit Jayce and Viktor, then I stopped crying, thought about it a bit more, and I got mad Again lmao
Now spoilers
It was a fucking mess lmao
Like seriously what the fuck fortiche, what the fuck Riot, it was such a fucking mess, it was all over the place, the story was rushed, the characters arcs were rushed, there was a lot of things that felt very forced because they didn't have time to let it happen naturally and I can tell a lot of things that would've been good were left in the inkpot
About Cait and Vi: I truly and honestly couldn't have care less about them lmao
I know I know
But I already fucking knew they were going to end up together that Vi was going to forgive Cait for being a fascist etc etc, for me their arc was already finished and I didn't have time to care about them because I was more worried about what the heck would happen to the other characters and how in hell would they wrap up that mess. If they would've cut all their scenes and gave that time to Mel or something, I would've been so fucking happy
Also, the sex scene annoyed me so much lmao, I was thinking "IF YOU WANTED A SEX SCENE YOU SHOULD'VE ADDED ANOTHER SEASON FORTICHE! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT NOW!" lmao
Mel: I liked the concept of her arc, I like the theory, I can see their vision, what they were going for
But in reality it wasn't fucking that
Like, I like the idea of having Mel realize that she was much more than the daughter of her mother, that she had her own value for who she was instead of simply being the blood in her veins. But boy, it didn't feel at all like she realized that lmao
It just felt like she was "now I'm confident enough about myself to confront my mother because the writers said so" like what? This is what I mean when I say that a lot of things felt forced
Viktor: ok, ok I'm just like *heavy sigh*
To be honest part of why I was mad at first was Viktor's character, I was like "So what? You stop being a humanity loving pacifist to become a fucking control freak who hates free will and emotions just like that?" But then I thought about it, and if you frame his arc through Jayce, it actually made sense, because you see, everything he did was for Jayce. When he came back and went to build his cult, I mean, Commune, he was doing their hextech dream, the thing they always wanted, the thing Jayce always wanted
When Jayce went and rejected him by shooting him in the chest (thanks Jayce) he was hurt, he lashed out and wanted to get rid of all emotions, ironically it was a very emotional reaction. So then as soon as Jayce was back with him, he realized his mistake and stopped
So yeah, it makes sense, the problem is that I shouldn't have to stop and piece together a character motivation like that Fortiche what the hell. I know some people say "let the audience do some work!" But I feel like I'm doing all the fucking work here
What they did was great! Good! But just like Mel, give it more fucking time please
And the machine herald design was a bit ugly lmao, like his design in the game looks better, but thinking about it, and looking at the other robots design and how Viktor dresses in the series. I think it makes sense that this specific Viktor would design something like that
EDIT: Oh! I Also forgot to add:
My favorite scene of him was when Jayce was taking out all of those things one by one and Viktor waited until he was done to push them all back LMAO he didn't need to do that
Jayce:
Jayce, what the hell
Like, I understand why Viktor acted like he did, but like, what was up with you?
I mean, the end implied that he knew all along what was going to happen (machine herald, save Viktor etc), but like, why did he acted so angry at the commune then? He seemed so erratic and Angry like he didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew, and then he switched back to normal but like, what was up with all of what happened before? If anything, why didn't just he let Viktor get to the hexgate peacefully and then talk to him? Idk, it just seems to me like Jayce was the character the most affected by the crossfire of the plot happening because the writers had a very specific ending in mind and no time to get to that ending naturally
Also "hextech is bad" Then proceeds to let everyone keep using it lmao
Ambessa and Singed: of all the characters I think these one were the worst of all lmao
Like the plot completely changed Jayce and forced Mel, but like, these two just were put aside? Lmao
Everyone at Fortiche was like "Fuck Ambessa and Fuck Singed" which is a shame because these two were really interesting
Ekko and Jinx:
I think of all the other characters, these two were the best ones
I didn't feel like their arc was forced, it felt like they were given enough time, but you know why? Because their arc started in season 1, in this season they just finished it
The only thing I will complain about is Isha, because it just feels like they used her and completely discarded her after like a broken toy. Like Silco was waaay better handled than her
Heimmerdinger: I mean, I didn't care much about him lmao, he was only there because the plot needed him, and when he wasn't necessary anymore they got rid of him lmao
But it was less obvious than Isha at least
Viktor and Jayce: now, this is the part that got me fucking crying so much, and this along with Ekko and Jinx are the things that make me feel conflicted about this ending and not hate it as much as I would otherwise
It was all left ambiguous, and the cynical part of me thinks "of course they can't make it any more obvious because then the dude bros who main Viktor and Jayce in LoL are going to cry about how they don't want to play as a man who wants to kiss another man"
But if I take it at face value... Ngl guys, it was good
Like how Jayce chose Viktor after everything he did, how Viktor tried to push Jayce away to protect him but Jayce refused to leave, how all they wanted wasn't progress, or fame or power, but simply be together. And they got to be together in the end
Damn, I'm crying again
I JUST FUCKING WISH EVERYTHING AROUND IT WASN'T A MESS!
And I wanted to add, when everyone in Zaun went to help everyone in Piltover to deal with Ambessa, I wouldn't have done that, fuck them, they put a fucking fascist dictator on power, probably made a lot of people "dissappear" and just like that they are like "Guys, we're sorry, we need your help now :(" fuck that
In the end, it doesn't feel like Fortiche earned this ending. Season 2 should've ended with Arc 2, and Arc 3 should've been a whole season
And I can't give it a rating, because I don't know, I didn't like a lot of it, but there were some parts that I really fucking loved
But if someone asked me if it was worth to give the series a try, I would say yes, but don't get your hopes up for the ending lmao
#ramblings#arcane#jayvik#viktor#viktor arcane#jayce talis#ekko#ekko arcane#Jinx#jinx arcane#caitlyn kiramman#vi arcane#arcane season 2#timebomb#mel medarda#mel arcane
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Clueless caretaker
Dylan gets sick, the most serious Rip has seen him be. Emeto warning.
"Are you upset?" Rip said hesitantly. He was sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa where Dylan was sprawled on and felt weirdly like before a recieving a judgement.
Dylan sighed, hanging his head back on the armrest. "Look, man, I'm not upset. It's just...you were so freaked out about becoming the Executioner in summer-"
"Apprentice. I would just work as his apprentice."
"And now you are all down with it? Excuse me, if I'm a little confused." Dylna curled up around his side, an uncharacteristic frown on his face.
"It's just a job." Rip got up, fighting the urge to pace. "It's gonna give me direction and a place." He pulled out Isaiah's credit card from his pocket. "I can't be freeloading around for nothing forever." He already felt better agreeing, knowing these expanses, this apartment, the clothes on his back and food in the fridge would be his contribution too.
"You totally can. Watch me and learn," Dylan grumbled unhappily, closing his eyes.
"Dude, it's like 11 o'clock. Why are you so sleepy?" Rip said, eyeing the other wolf.
"Too many heavy decisions," Dylan said. Then he opened his eyes and forced up a grin at Rip's expression. "Jeez, it's not because of you, don't worry."
"I'm not worried," Rip said petulantly. "I'll fix you something to eat and then we could go to the underground gym together, yeah?"
Dylan turned his back to him, face to the sofa. "What, Isaiah is on vocation today?"
Rip didn't wait for assent, going to the kitchen island where he would have just as a good view of Dylan as in the living room. "They have some kind of pack event today. All three of them together. It's in Salzburg so it's gonna be a whole day trip."
"Look at how well informed you are. Assistant in full power."
"It's Executioner's Apprentice. And it's a pretty respected position, thank you." Rip rolled his eyes and began heating the milk for a improptu porridge. He already ate in the morning, but Dylan didn't and porridge with cocoa was his weak spot in-between all the shakes and meat.
"You sure you are not just doing it out of desperation? Why do you suddenly like Isaiah so much?"
Rip prepared the flour, eyes flickering towards Dylan. "It only took a few dozens of killing attempts, a few months of dedicated training and impossible patience and giving me a way out that doesn't involve the streets," he said jokingly.
"See? Desperation and inherit power disbalance."
"Power disbalance? You have been watching some weird Tiktaks again."
"TikTok. It's TikTok. And what do you mean I can't sound all high and educated? You try listening to my sister for a few minutes and you be spewing out new words too."
"Her talking always puts you to sleep," Rip objected.
"It worms its way into your subconsciousness," Dylan said, crossing his arms on his chest.
Rip shook his head, adding the flour to the boiling milk and big spoons of sugar. "You got some kind of beef with Isaiah I don't know of?"
"There is no beef, Jesus...." Dylan's voice trailed off into grunts, something about everyone being stolen away.
Rip stirred the porridge fondly. It wasn't like he could afford to get away with the same things as Dylan, but it was heartwarming to have someone so concerned about his wishes and wants.
When the porridge, butter and cocoa was ready, it wasn't hard to coax Dylan into relaxing and eating. Rip was about to call it a win, when Dylan's pace slowed down considerably and he wasn't even halfway done.
"What's wrong? Still too hot in the middle?" Rip asked, standing over Dylan's spot on the sofa.
Dylan stirred the porridge. "Nah, man, it's great. Really, thanks." As if to disapprove his words, he put the plate down on the table and curled back up on the sofa. His eyes were drooping.
"This is getting weird," Rip complained, looking him up and down.
"I'm feeling a little off, that's all," Dylan said, closing his eyes. "Go to the gym without me today."
"Did you play Xbox till 3 am again?"
"No, I didn't," Dylan stuck out his tongue at him. "Swear. Your sleep's too sensitive anyway, you hear the grass growing—how would I get away with a game?"
But Dylan was usually a ball of energy. Being sleepy this late in the day, no jumping, training or bouncing on his feet?
"I'm just gonna get a nap, 's all." Dylan hugged himself around the chest, knees tucked close. "Go, you are all needles to get out of the place."
That was true, but Rip wasn't about to admit it now that he got a hunch something was wrong.
Dylan sighed at Rip's undecision and grabbed his hand, pushing it against his forehead. "Here. See for yourself. Do I seem feverish to you?"
Rip's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus. "It's warm, but I don't really know when it's normal and when not. Do we have a thermometer?"
"Nope. Only that handgun thing that doesn't work. Mom promised to give me one of those real ones that work, but I forgot it at her place." The brown-haired boy wiggled his head against the cushion, eyes closing again, but he didn't look peaceful.
"I'm gonna ask Seline if- damn, they aren't home." Rip ran a hand through his hair. "Do you have a key to their place?"
"Can I have one?"
Rip threw out his hands. "How should I know?"
"We can get inside with the shadows."
"Yeah, I'm gonna be breaking into the Executioner's place, sure. No, thanks." Rip didn't know how he got into Isaiah's good graces, but he wasn't going to risk losing them. "What else is there that I can do?"
"Go to the pharmacy?" Dylan shrugged, then winced and added quickly: "Hey, that's not needed though, right? Plus, if I need something, I can get it, it's just a block away."
Rip turned away, painfully reminded that going to the pharmacy was beyond his limit of abilities. He could keep his cool around Isaiah's pack, even Hector and Arnie, so people he knew. Heck, he could probably manage around wolves pretty well now.
But around humans? That was still too risky and got his shadow going in an ugly way.
A pang of shame went through his ribs at the thought he couldn't even go and buy Dylan medicine if he needed it.
"Forget it, man, I just need to sleep it off."
...
Rip didn't end up going to the gym, instead working out on the trapeze stick that they installed together in the hallway.
He wanted to keep an eye on Dylan. The guy was so whiny for every single thing, and so loud and filling the room, that this quiet was setting off all the red lights in Rip's head.
Which was ridiculous. Were they on the streets, fever wouldn't even be something to speak about. Rip would opt to walk it off.
These city pups were so fragile, for real. His old self would have said that. Heck, his mind was still saying it.
So why was he so restless?
Attuned to all the little sounds of the apartment, cleaning up the floor and the dust for the seventh time...
So he could tell the exact moment when things started to get worse.
Dylan was groaning in his sleep. He was curling up on himself, so Rip covered him with a blanket. It was twisted in his grip and he was positively sweating, hair all matted and dark.
Rip crouched down next to him, wrecking his brain on what he knew about treating fevers and human kids.
Dylan groaned again, his eyes opening to slits. "Oh hey..."
"You are feeling worse, aren't you?" Rip said instead of a hello.
Dylan shrugged, corner of his Rip twitching. "Don't look so serious." He frowned, wrapping his hands around his stomach. "Damn, I'm freezing."
"It's warm here."
"For real, I bet I can see my breath."
Rip pushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead. "I think frying an egg on your cheek temp counts as fever. Tell me what to do."
Dylan looked at him dizzyly, like he needed time to process to question. Looking at him this close, Rip noticed the pallor of his skin, the shadows growing under his eyes like bruises.
"Maybe some water?" he croaked.
Rip nodded and almost jumped over the kitchen island in his hurry to get a glass of cool water.
Dylan climbed up into a seated position with difficulty, his hands shaking. Rip held the glass to his lips.
Halfway through Dylan coughed and gagged, the last mouthful of the water gurgling back up into the glass.
"Goddammit, sorry-"
"It's fine," Rip assured, bringing the glass away. "Nausous?"
Dylan grimaced. "Stomach hurts. The porridge's been sitting there like a ton of bricks."
"Is this from the fever or is the fever a symptom of a stomach flu? How does it work?"
Dylan let out a giggle that turned into a cough and another gag. He pressed his hand against his mouth, breathing deeply to fight off the nausea. "Don't know. It doesn't really matter, does it?"
"I guess not." Rip shook himself internally, getting to his feet. "This is nothing. You will sleep this off in half a day. Go back to sleep."
They were not going to be panicking over a fever. He knew how whiny and dramatic Dylan could be. Better not take him seriously.
Dylan didn't whine though. He just nodded, pulling the blanket up to his chin and curled back up on the pillow with a shiver.
Rip stayed at his side, braced on the armrest. This time when Dylan woke up, gagging and heaving, he was prepared with a trashcan.
"Here, here, here." Rip held the bucket under his chin as Dylan's body rolled with heaves. He burped several times, bringing up a mouthful of white chunks. There was a dark map of sweat on his shirt, front and back.
Dylan coughed, stomach spasming. He wiggled out of the blanket, throwing his feet over the rim. "Need to- should go-"
Rip slid to the seat next to him. "Where should you go? Hey, trashcan is right here."
"Gonna make a mess- you don't like-"
"Sheesh, forget about that. I got you covered." Rip's voice softened. "You don't need to get up for this."
Dylan looked at him with a deeply set frown of confusion then nodded. There were exactly three seconds of peace before Dylan's body jerked forward and he was coughing up more creamy vomit.
Rip pulled the trashcan into Dylan's lap to catch the most of it, but some dribbled down his chin and down on his shirt.
Dylan was positively glowing with heat, all red in the cheeks, from the fever or the strain, Rip wasn't sure.
Rip rubbed his back as Dylan burped emptily over the trashcan, eyes all watery and glistening.
Dylan fell right back down onto the pillow. Rip fetched him another shirt and manhandled his limp form into a fresh one. The sick wolf was still shivering, although he was sweating like he got from a pouring rain.
Rip did the reasonable thing and tried to call. Isaiah first, then Seline. His phone and then Dylan's in case they didn't want to take his calls.
But no one was picking up. Jeez, did they not have signals at wolf meets or what?
He was pacing around the living room. Going through the cabinets didn't reveal any medications aside some lollipops for strep throat and aloe vera spray.
Why was it such a problem to go fucking shopping?
Of course it was a problem. Rip had money of his own since like last week. And he couldn't go somewhere with people, his shadow would freak out...
"Rip..."
The voice got his attention at once and Rip hurried to crouch by Dylan's side. "Yeah? I'm right here."
"My hands are burning..."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Rip grabbed for Dylan's hands under the blanket, turning it palm up to examine it. "It's not burning, it's okay-"
Then he noticed it. Red little bumps on the inside of his hands, like a rash, starting on his palms and continuing up to his elbwos.
"What are those things?" Dylan sounded more distressed and alert than when he was throwing up, voice going all choked up.
"Ehhh those...I'm sure it's nothing, D. I'm gonna look it up, okay?"
Dylan looked so close to tears Rip hesitated to get up. He reached for Dylan's phone instead and then climbed onto the sofa so he could hold Dylan in his lap.
"They say some infections and high fevers can cause hives..."
Dylan pressed his head against Rip's middle, clutching his hands to his chest. "I don't want them-"
"Shhhhh. They will go away on their own as the fever goes down. You got some nasty little virus that's all."
Dylan's lips were trembling. "They itch. Make them go away."
Rip sighed, experimentally touching Dylan's forehead. God, he was really burning up. He let his fingers linger, petting his hair. "It's gonna be okay, D. Relax. This is nothing."
"They are so ugly," Dylan whined, burying his face deeper into Rip's stomach.
Rip almost burst into a hysterical laugh. "Man, that's truly the least of our problems."
Dylan sobbed quietly, and Rip winced, wrapping his hands around the other boy and pulling him close. "Shhhhh. They are not, they are not. Hey. Stop that."
Dylan groaned, then looked up at Rip with wet lashes. "Isn't it disgusting?"
Rip screwed up his face. He had seen many many ugly and disgusting things, infected wounds, horrible burns, heck, the bitemarks lining up his own arms and neck...he was genuinely too desynthesized.
"No, I swear it's not, D. You couldn't be disgusting if you tried." He leaned over Dylan, combing his hair back. "See? Wouldn't be touching you if you were disgusting, right?"
Dylan watched him so intensively Rip worried a little he would burst a vein in his eye. Finally, he nodded and snuggled—snuggled!—closer. "Okay."
#sickfic#emeto#hurt/comfort#vomiting#fever#werewolf wip#my writing#Dylan#I had more stuff I wanted to happen#part 2? I guess? maybe
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Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen
⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️
Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post
Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso
‧₊˚✧ Chapter 15 ✧˚₊‧
While Suguru went to relax at home, enjoying the peace of being with just his parents again, and Shoko visited her father, Satoru was busy sighing for what had to be the 100th time in the last hour. The New Year's Eve party at the Gojo estate was always overbearing and irritating in the worst way, spent in an uncomfortable formal kimono and greeting old people who don't give a shit about anything but their status.
He sat in his spot at the long head table, every guest coming to reassert themselves as someone he probably needed when he became the clan head officially. Not that he gave a shit anyway, but in this life he'd determined it would be better to play along rather than rebel and do as he pleased. If he was going to rally everyone together, he needed a good position and good enough standing. Good enough being key, because he certainly had no interest in schmoozing with shitty geriatrics.
Some kind of introduction, a few false compliments, marvel at his eyes, New Year's wishes and rinse and repeat. It was all the same. All they knew how to do. If he asked them to kiss his pale ass they'd probably do it.
He'd heard his Grandfather already asking about daughters and knew that talk was coming too. The attempts to marry into more power and create more heirs for later. A dozen or so pretty but boring women would eventually be lined up for him to ignore as usual. That wasn't going to change this time for sure. No matter what, he would not put anyone else into a position they didn't really want.
Speaking of which... One came to him shortly after he overheard. She was in a lovely purple kimono, the long furisode stitched with cranes and tree branches. She was older than him, but not by much. Bold of her to approach directly. She must have been power hungry. Or money. One of the two.
"Good evening, Gojo," she said with a deep bow and a demure smile.
He resisted the scoff that threatened his throat, and just gave her a polite nod. But unfortunately she didn't take the hint. That or she really was very bold.
"How are you enjoying the party?" She asked, subtly standing up straight to present herself to him.
Tall. Thin. Soft features. Long silky black hair. Very pale. She was, just like the others, a proper Japanese woman raised for this purpose. A willing broodmare if it meant she could live a comfortable life and please her parents. Nothing made him more disgusted than someone who'd submit to someone else's whims.
"Honestly it kinda sucks," he huffed, resting his cheek on his hand. He wished he'd kept his sunglasses on so he could ignore her.
"Oh," she continued, "Yes, I'd imagine you'd prefer to be with your friends."
"Yeah," he said shortly, giving her an "alright that's enough" look.
Still, she persisted.
"Perhaps I could keep you--"
"Perhaps you could find someone else to chat with," Satoru said, plastering on that cocky smile, "Not interested, doll. Thanks." Then he waved at her dismissively, picking up his cup to sip.
She stared at him, painted red lips parted in surprise. He wanted to laugh, but he wasn't feeling like being cruel just yet. Only if she kept it up...
Which she didn't. She bowed and scurried off with her head down.
"Satoru," his mother chided softly, "That wasn't very kind. You should really make an effort to meet with them."
"Nah, I'd rather not Mother," he said, rolling his eyes.
She said nothing more, silenced by him. He sighed, feeling a bit guilty. She was just as much a victim of the marriage contract scheme herself. A perfect little flower plucked by a Gojo and blessed with the six-eyes as her child. She wasn't a weak willed woman, he knew that. He'd seen flashes of who she really could be, but the idea of the "Perfect Japanese Woman" had been ingrained and become her mask.
He got up, picking up his phone from under the table and heading out of the room. A few hours of this bullshit was all he could stand.
Down the hall and into his room, he tore off the kimono as soon as he stepped inside. Throwing on a hoodie and sweatpants, he got comfortable on his futon and flipped open his phone to check his messages. Just a few from Suguru showing photos of his hometown and what he was up to. Shoko had sent exactly one message complaining about soba noodles. Sarah sent him a few stupid jokes, hoping to lighten his mood.
He wished he'd stayed at the school. He still had two more nauseating days of ass kissing while they visited the New Year's shrines and ate all the fancy New Year's food.
He looked at his messages from Sarah and smiled. She was probably watching that "No Laughing Batsu Game" show. He'd never actually had the time to sit down and see it, but she insisted on last year's New Year it was the funniest thing. Apparently Suguru loved it too, so maybe he was watching it this time?
Satoru: What is the name of that show again?
Sarah: Gaki No Tsukai! You gotta turn it on! It's so good! It's a high school theme this year and I almost pissed myself!
(✷‿✷)
Satoru: (☞゚∀゚)☞ I'll check it out
So he rolled over, flipping on the TV to his room. He vaguely recognized the name from his first life. This had become a regular yearly show, but as always he was too busy to sit down and watch it the day of and when he actually did have time it wasn't something he remembered to do.
Clearly he was missing out!
He recognized the main duo of course, Downtown was always the best comedy pair in Japan. Cocorico was really good as well, and Yamazaki of course. The whole idea was amazing! And the set ups! Holy shit! He was laughing so hard his cheeks hurt!
He texted Suguru about it and his eyes widened when Suguru immediately called him.
"You're watching it to?" Suguru said excitedly as soon as he picked up, "Jimmy Onishi trying to count to 100 almost killed me!"
"Holy shit, yes!" Satoru laughed, "This is amazing! Sarah is watching too!"
"That's so awesome!" Suguru said. Satoru could hear him shifting in the background, probably sitting in his room.
Satoru bit his lip. He wasn't sure if this was the right time, but then again would it ever be? He hesitated for a split second before he said, "I wish we were watching it together." His voice had come out softer than he meant and he cringed immediately. Was it too soon? Would Suguru catch on? Did he want him too?
"Yes," Suguru agreed with a sigh, "I wish we could too."
Satoru's heart raced and his word caught. He wasn't sure what to say, so he just settled on, "Yeah."
"Next year we should all get together," Suguru said.
Oh. He meant with everyone. Before he could even stop himself Satoru was already saying, "I meant with just you. Alone."
Suguru didn't answer, but Satoru could hear his breathing still. It felt like an eternity before Suguru simply said, "Oh, I see."
"Too strong," Satoru cringed internally, he was coming on way to strong. Suguru was only fifteen after all and Satoru had only ever heard him talk about women in his last life. Was he even interested in men? Would he try it?
Satoru's face was heating up as the silence dragged on. Did he fuck this up? He was a grown ass man internally and still this made him feel oddly shy and foolish. And a little sick on some level, if he was being honest. The last thing he wanted to do was push Suguru into something he didn't want like some nasty groomer or something. But all of this was so new to him, he wasn't sure what the furthest boundaries should be in the first place!
"I think it would be better with all of us," Suguru said quietly after a moment and Satoru's heart fell.
Shit. It was too fast.
"Ah, yeah... I guess so," he said sheepishly, his hand wringing the futon blanket. He fucked up. He knew he did. "I... I didn't mean anything weird by it--"
"Sorry, Mom is calling me. Talk to you in a bit?" Suguru said, and promptly hung up.
Satoru stared at his phone, his mouth fallen open. "Shit," he mumbled, "Shit shit shit..."
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
To say his return to the school was nerve-wracking was an understatement. Satoru hadn't slept well for the last two days of his visit home, constantly worried he'd ruined everything with Suguru forever. He hadn't heard a word from the guy, not even a text or any pictures or anything.
When he reached the top of the steps, he saw Sarah and Shoko waving excitedly to him and he gave them a little half-hearted wave back. Where was Suguru? Surely he wouldn't just... Avoid him right?
"Geto!" Sarah called and Satoru froze. He swallowed thickly, turning to see Suguru about halfway up the stairs.
They locked eyes and it felt like everything slowed down. His expression was unreadable, and Satoru wasn't even sure what he should say. Suguru seemed to be at a loss as well and he stopped in his tracks.
"Hey," Satoru managed, quieter than he intended.
The moment turned violent in the blink of an eye. One moment Suguru was halfway up the stairs, brushing snow off his coat, and the next, he was blindsided by an unrelenting force that drove him hard into the icy ground. The impact echoed, sharp and brutal, as Suguru slid down a few steps before catching himself.
“What the hell?!” Satoru shouted, eyes wide as he processed what had just happened.
The blur that hit Suguru materialized into Toji Fushiguro, his presence as sharp and lethal as the blade he wielded. Satoru’s heart sank as he recognized the man who had haunted his nightmares and memories—a predator without cursed energy to track, armed with the inverted spear of heaven.
Suguru groaned, rolling to his feet, and Satoru felt a surge of panic. “Suguru, get back!” he barked, already moving to intercept the man.
Toji swung the inverted spear with ruthless precision, forcing Satoru to backpedal. The blade hummed ominously, cutting through the air with a deadly promise. Satoru felt the weight of his past crash down on him; this wasn’t a fight he could afford to lose.
But then he heard it.
Sarah’s shriek.
His head whipped around, his mind snapping to Shoko and Sarah. To his horror, he saw Shoko crumpled on the ground, clutching a nasty gash on her arm as Sarah stood over her, gripping a clump of snow like it could fend off Toji.
“No.”
Satoru moved without thinking, the world around him blurring as he appeared at their side. “Are you okay?!” he demanded, kneeling next to Shoko.
“I’ll live,” Shoko muttered through gritted teeth, already working to heal the deep cut. Her fingers glowed faintly with cursed energy as she knit the wound back together. Despite her pain, her eyes were calm and steady, locking with Satoru’s for a moment.
Sarah’s face, however, was pale with fear, her hands trembling as she tried to shield Shoko. She looked at Satoru like he was her lifeline, her only hope. “He—he’s gone. I don’t know where he is—”
Satoru turned his head sharply, scanning the area, his six eyes struggling to detect Toji. Nothing. No cursed energy, no presence—just the ghost of danger lingering in the cold air.
“Stay close,” he growled, his voice low and serious. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”
Sarah nodded, her grip on her improvised snow weapon tightening.
Suguru was already rushing up the stairs to rejoin them, his face set in a grim determination. Satoru’s relief was brief; he couldn’t let his guard down for a second.
Toji was faster than he remembered. Much faster. And more unpredictable.
Satoru’s brain worked overtime, calculating every angle, every possible move Toji could make. He couldn’t feel him, couldn’t predict his movements, but he could anticipate.
“Stay alert,” he said, his voice sharp and commanding. “He’s playing games. He wants us off balance.”
Suguru reached them, positioning himself beside Satoru, his cursed spirits swirling protectively around him. His face was hard, but there was an edge of unease in his eyes. “What’s the plan?” he asked, his voice steady despite the tension in his stance.
“We wait,” Satoru said, scanning the shadows. “Let him make the first move.”
The air was heavy, every second stretching into an eternity. Snow fell softly around them, the silence broken only by the crunch of their shifting feet.
And then, like a serpent striking from the dark, Toji reappeared.
Toji moved like a shadow with substance—impossible to pin down, and yet his strikes landed with brutal precision. Satoru and Suguru worked in sync, as they always had, yet Toji stayed one step ahead of them both, weaving through their attacks with a precision that bordered on superhuman.
Satoru growled under his breath, his fingers glowing faintly with cursed energy as he aimed another blast at Toji. “He’s too damn fast,” he muttered, frustration creeping into his tone.
Suguru wasn’t faring much better, his cursed spirits snapping at Toji like wild dogs only to be evaded or neutralized in a blink. “We can’t keep this up,” Suguru admitted, his voice tight.
Toji smirked, his blade flashing in the dim light as he lunged at Satoru, forcing him to backpedal. Satoru gritted his teeth, catching the blow with a barrier of cursed energy that rippled like glass under pressure. He pushed back hard, the force sending Toji skidding across the icy ground.
“Now!” Satoru shouted.
Suguru took the cue, lunging forward with a burst of energy. He channeled his cursed spirits into a single strike, aiming to knock Toji clean off his feet and down the stairs. The plan seemed to work—Toji staggered, his balance faltering as he tumbled back.
“Yes!” Suguru exhaled, relief washing over him.
But Satoru’s heart dropped.
“No. No, no, no,” he muttered, his six eyes flaring as he pieced it together.
Toji’s fall wasn’t a loss—it was a calculated move. Satoru could see it now: the deliberate way Toji had shifted the fight, pulling them further and further from Shoko and Sarah.
The bastard played us.
Without hesitation, Satoru vanished in a blur of speed, reappearing near the girls. His heart pounded as he scanned for Toji, but the scene was quiet. Too quiet.
Then it hit him.
Double bluff.
Satoru spun around just in time to see Toji move like a phantom, closing the distance to Suguru with terrifying speed. The gleam of the inverted spear of heaven flashed in the dim light, and before Satoru could react, Toji struck.
“Suguru!”
The blade slashed through Suguru’s chest, the force of the blow sending him reeling. He stumbled, his footing lost, and with a sickening inevitability, he toppled backward, careening down the icy stairs in sickening thuds.
Time slowed.
Satoru’s body moved before his mind could catch up, every muscle screaming to reach Suguru before he hit the bottom. But Toji wasn’t done—he turned on Satoru, readying for another strike.
“Stay back!” Satoru barked, unleashing a wave of cursed energy to force Toji away. The effort left him exposed for a split second, but it was enough to reach the edge of the stairs where Suguru had fallen.
Suguru lay crumpled at the base, groaning softly as he tried to push himself up. Blood dripped from his side where the blade had cut deep, staining the pristine snow in a vivid red.
Above him, Toji watched with a cold, calculating gaze, his weapon held loosely at his side. He didn’t pursue, not yet.
Suguru’s coughing rattled like broken glass, his breaths shallow as blood seeped from the corner of his lips. His dark eyes fluttered open again, his gaze unfocused but stubborn. He started to speak, but Satoru shook his head urging him to stay still.
A scream split through the night air—Sarah’s voice, raw and filled with fury.
“Stay back!”
Satoru’s stomach twisted into knots as he whipped his head around, torn between staying with Suguru and rushing to the others. He clenched his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. This was the game Toji was playing: forcing him to make a choice.
Suguru or the girls.
Satoru’s mind raced, weighing options he didn’t want to consider. Shoko was fragile in a fight, and Sarah was technically immortal. She could survive things others couldn’t. She’ll come back, he told himself, his jaw tightening with the bitter thought. But guilt still clawed at his chest as he made his decision.
With a burst of cursed energy, Satoru darted back up the stairs, his speed a blur against the snow.
The sight he was greeted with made his blood run cold.
Toji stood at the top, gripping Sarah by the throat, her small form thrashing and kicking in his iron grip. Her hands clawed at his arm, her nails drawing blood and digging in as hard as she could. She may as well have been scratching at a lion.
“Put her down,” Satoru growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Toji’s grin widened, his wild eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “Too late for demands, kid,” he said, his tone mocking.
Sarah, despite her situation, bared her teeth and reared back, sinking them into Toji’s hand. Toji flinched, a flicker of irritation crossing his face, but his grip didn’t loosen.
“You’ve got fight, I’ll give you that,” he muttered. Then, with cruel precision, his hand tightened around her throat, cutting off her air. Her eyes widened, rolling back as her struggles weakened.
“Put her down!” Satoru roared, his cursed energy flaring around him like a living storm.
Toji only chuckled, the sound dark and hollow.
With a sharp movement, Toji slashed at Sarah, his blade cutting deep, before tossing her to the ground like discarded trash. She hit the snow in a bloody heap, her body limp.
Satoru’s world narrowed to a point, his vision tunneling as rage consumed him. He launched forward, a strike aimed directly at Toji, but the man was ready. Toji parried the attack with the inverted spear of heaven, the blade’s cursed energy nullifying Satoru’s own.
The two clashed with violent force, Satoru’s blows relentless, fueled by anger and desperation. Toji smirked, darting back into the treeline with an agility that left Satoru no choice but to hold his ground.
Satoru’s chest heaved as he stood over Sarah’s unmoving form, his fists clenched so tightly they shook. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the treeline, but the sound of Shoko’s voice behind him brought a sliver of relief.
“Let me through,” she said, her tone sharp despite the tremor in her voice.
“Not her,” Satoru muttered, his voice tight. “Just... I'll get you to Suguru.”
Shoko's eyes widened, but she understood.
Satoru moved swiftly, his hand firm on Shoko’s arm as they descended the snow-dusted stairs toward Suguru. The air was still tense, every shadow feeling like Toji’s lurking figure. He kept Shoko close, his senses heightened for any sign of an ambush.
Halfway down, the sickening buzz of fly heads filled the air. Satoru’s jaw tightened. He remembered this move all too well from his past life—Toji’s distraction tactics.
“Stay close,” he snapped, pulling Shoko against his side.
Before the fly heads could swarm them, Satoru’s cursed energy flared as he activated his Blue technique. A wave of force exploded outward, sucking in and obliterating the grotesque creatures. Shoko pressed closer to him, shielding her eyes from the chaotic display.
With the area cleared, Satoru turned his attention to Suguru. He couldn’t waste any time. Wrapping an arm around Shoko’s waist, he used Limitless to lift them both, flying down the stairs with precision and speed.
Suguru was still on the ground, his breathing labored but steady. Satoru landed beside him, crouching to scoop him up with one arm. He barely paused, launching them all back up toward the relative safety of the landing.
“Shoko, do your thing!” Satoru barked as soon as they touched down.
Shoko dropped to her knees beside Suguru, her hands glowing as she began to heal him. But Satoru could see it wasn’t easy. Her face was pale, her breathing heavy as she worked to stabilize Suguru’s wounds.
“Focus,” he muttered, standing protectively in front of them. His six eyes scanned the treeline, every muscle in his body taut. He could feel Toji out there, moving like a phantom.
Then he felt it—the inverted spear of heaven. A sharp, cold presence that cut through the air. Without hesitation, Satoru fired a beam of Red in the direction of the cursed weapon. The blast ripped through the trees in a deafening explosion, clearing a wide path of destruction.
But within that explosion, Toji emerged, unscathed and grinning like a predator.
“Miss me?” Toji taunted, closing the distance with terrifying speed.
Satoru barely had time to react as Toji lunged, slamming into him and sending Shoko sprawling to the ground. The inverted spear slashed toward him, and Satoru raised his arms, physically blocking the hit since Limitless wouldn’t work against the cursed tool. Pain shot through him, but he didn’t let it show.
“Cheap shot,” Satoru growled, spinning to catch Shoko before she hit the ground.
Toji didn’t let up, his attacks relentless as he aimed for Satoru, Suguru, or Shoko—whoever seemed the most vulnerable in the moment. Satoru was forced to move like a blur, blocking, dodging, and redirecting Toji’s strikes to protect his friends.
It was starting to unnerve him. Toji wasn’t fighting to win. He was fighting to destabilize, to push Satoru into making a mistake.
“I’m getting real tired of this game, old man,” Satoru snarled, his tone deceptively casual despite the tension in his shoulders.
Toji only chuckled, his movements as fluid and calculated as ever. “What’s the matter, Gojo? Feeling a little off-balance?”
Satoru’s grin was sharp, masking the way his mind raced for a solution. He could feel Shoko struggling to keep Suguru alive behind him, and every second Toji stayed on the offensive was another second too long.
“Off-balance?” Satoru echoed, his voice laced with mockery. “Buddy, I’m always on top.”
With that, he slammed his hands together, his cursed energy spiking dangerously. If Toji wanted chaos, Satoru would give him chaos.
The air crackled with energy as Satoru blinked to the side, then reappeared behind Toji in a daring feint. With a quick flick of his wrist, he fired off a Red, the cursed energy tearing through the space between them. Toji, ever the strategist, raised the inverted spear, absorbing the brunt of the blast before retaliating with a vicious slash.
The clash escalated, the ground beneath them cracking and splintering with every step and strike. Satoru’s precision and speed matched Toji’s raw, brutal power, but Toji wasn’t fighting for a clean win—he was fighting to keep Satoru on edge. His movements were calculated, darting toward Suguru and Shoko without warning, forcing Satoru to divide his focus.
“Really? Using my friends as bait?” Satoru scoffed, his voice sharp with mockery, though his heart hammered in his chest. “Classy move, asshole. Real honorable.”
Toji grinned, his eyes wild with the thrill of the fight. “Whatever works, kid.”
Satoru's mind raced. He needed a way to turn the tide without putting his friends at risk. A domain expansion would be a surefire win, but it would trap Shoko and Suguru along with Toji—and Shoko couldn’t stop healing Suguru for even a moment.
The memories of his first battle with Toji clawed at the edges of his mind. The lack of preparation, the overconfidence, the way Toji had completely blindsided him. This fight felt eerily similar, except now, Satoru had more than just himself to worry about.
Gritting his teeth, he used Blue again, clearing a swath of the surrounding woods and forcing Toji back into direct combat. He drew the man in, deliberately letting him land a hit with the inverted spear. Pain flared as the weapon sliced through his defense, but Satoru’s counterstrike was swift, his cursed energy slamming into Toji and sending him flying.
Or so he thought.
Toji’s smirk was the first sign that something was wrong. Satoru barely had time to process it before Toji let himself be flung backward—straight into Shoko.
“NO!” Satoru roared, his voice echoing in the icy air.
The inverted spear drove into Shoko’s back, and she gasped, choking on the impact. Her hands glowed faintly as she immediately tried to heal herself, but her movements were sluggish, her breath shallow.
Satoru moved to block Toji’s next move, but the man was already ahead of him. With a brutal kick, he sent Suguru’s limp body tumbling down the icy stairs.
“No, no, no!” Satoru’s heart dropped as he watched Suguru’s form bounce down the steps, blood trailing behind him like a crimson ribbon.
Fueled by a mix of rage and desperation, Satoru turned back to Toji, his six eyes blazing. “You’re dead.”
But Toji was already retreating, a satisfied grin plastered across his face. He disappeared into the shadows of the trees, leaving Satoru to pick up the pieces.
Satoru was at Shoko’s side in an instant, his hands hovering uselessly as she worked to stabilize herself. “Shoko, stay with me. You’re okay, you’re okay.”
She gave him a weak glare, her voice barely audible. “Focus... on the fight... you idiot.”
Her words spurred him into action.
Satoru barely spared a glance behind him. He trusted Shoko. She was tough, she was brilliant, and she wasn’t about to let Toji’s cheap shot take her down.
The cold wind cut against his face as he moved, his limitless barrier shimmering faintly as it carved a path through the forest. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, his Six Eyes locking onto Toji’s presence even as the man darted through the trees like a shadow.
“Oh no, you’re not getting away this time,” Satoru growled, his voice laced with uncharacteristic venom.
Toji turned to face him, that infuriating smirk still tugging at his lips. Satoru’s jaw tightened. The ground trembled beneath them as Satoru attacked, his cursed energy surging in blinding bursts of power. Toji dodged and countered with precision, his inverted spear striking fast and hard. But this time, Satoru wasn’t holding back. Every blow he landed sent shockwaves through the air, every burst of cursed energy forcing Toji further on the defensive.
Toji's speed was undeniable, his movements almost impossible to predict. But Satoru wasn’t just fast—he was relentless, and his Six Eyes calculated every shift, every twitch of muscle with pinpoint accuracy.
Toji swung the spear, aiming for Satoru’s barrier, but the sorcerer dodged effortlessly, flickering out of range before reappearing behind him. A brutal kick to Toji’s back sent him stumbling forward, his footing faltering for the first time.
“You’re losing your edge, old man,” Satoru taunted, his grin sharp and wild.
Toji’s smirk flickered for a moment, replaced by a glint of something Satoru rarely saw in his enemies: surprise. Just a flicker, but it was enough.
“That’s the look,” Satoru said, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s the face I wanted to see.”
Before Toji could recover, Satoru brought his hands together, his cursed energy swelling around him like a storm. “Let’s see how you handle this up close.”
The air crackled, a vibrant mix of blue and red energy converging at Satoru's outstretched hand. Toji’s eyes widened slightly as the realization dawned.
“Hollow Purple."
The explosion of energy was deafening, a blinding burst of violet light that ripped through the forest, obliterating everything in its path. At point-blank range, Toji had no chance to dodge. The wave of destruction tore through him, the sheer force sending his body careening into the trees before slamming into the ground with a sickening thud.
Satoru landed lightly, his breath visible in the icy air as he surveyed the scene. The trees around them had been stripped bare, the ground scorched and littered with debris. And at the center of it all was Toji, crumpled and motionless.
In a heartbeat, he was at the bottom of the stairs, kneeling beside Suguru’s broken body. His best friend’s breathing was shallow, his face pale against the blood staining the snow.
“Come on, Suguru,” Satoru murmured, his hands trembling as he assessed the damage. “You’re not leaving me like this. Not now.”
Above them, the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a cold, golden glow over the carnage. Satoru’s jaw clenched as he felt the weight of his failure pressing down on him. Toji had outmaneuvered him again.
Satoru’s heart was in his throat as he sprinted back up the stairs. His chest heaved, but it wasn’t from exertion—he couldn’t remember the last time he felt genuine panic like this. The forest around him blurred into streaks of gray and white, but his focus was razor-sharp.
When he reached the top of the stairs, the sight knocked the breath out of him.
Shoko was crumpled on the ground, her hair splayed across the blood-streaked snow. Her chest rose and fell faintly, but she wasn’t moving. She wasn’t conscious.
“Shoko!” His voice cracked as he dropped to his knees beside her, his hands shaking as he grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her. “Come on, get up! I need you!”
She didn’t stir.
“No, no, no, this isn’t happening,” Satoru muttered, panic rising like bile in his throat. He shook her harder, his usual composure shattered. “Shoko, wake up! Suguru needs you! I need you!”
But there was no response.
His head whipped around to Suguru, lying so far away. He was so pale, too pale. The blood pooling beneath him was a glaring red. Satoru’s chest tightened. Carefully lifting Shoko, he brought her closer and laid her beside Suguru.
He crawled over to him, pressing trembling hands against the deep gash on Suguru's chest. There was nothing he could do. He wasn’t a healer. He couldn’t close wounds like Shoko could.
“Damn it,” Satoru hissed, his vision blurring. “You’re not allowed to die. You hear me? You’re not allowed.”
Suguru’s eyes fluttered open briefly, glassy and unfocused. His lips moved, but no sound came out.
“Save your strength, okay?” Satoru’s voice was frantic, the words spilling out like a prayer. “You’re going to be fine. Shoko’s... Shoko’s going to fix you. She always fixes us.”
But even as he said it, he knew the truth. His Six Eyes could see the faint flicker of life in both of them, like a candle guttering in the wind. Too faint. Too far gone.
Satoru clenched his teeth, his hands curling into fists against the frozen ground. “No. No, no, no!” He struck the snow with his fist, the icy sting biting into his skin. “This isn’t how it ends! It’s not supposed to be like this!”
But the world didn’t care about what was supposed to happen.
For the second time in his life, Satoru Gojo—the strongest—felt powerless. The weight of that realization crushed him, suffocating and unbearable. His friends were slipping away, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it.
A hollow laugh bubbled up in his throat, bitter and broken. The silence around him was deafening, the cold gnawing at his flesh as the wind whispered through the trees.
He stayed there, kneeling between his two friends—the strongest sorcerer in the world, completely and utterly helpless.
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#fanfiction#writing#a03 fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#geto suguru#shoko ieiri#reincarnation fic#fix it fic
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You can't hurt me
part 2 (a)
a/n: i love angst. this version is the depressing one but its good i promise 🙏🏻
warnings: angst, mentions of sh, mentions of suicide, mentions of eds,
part 1
enjoy ★
She sat with him, bandaging his wrist. Slash stayed quiet. He hadn't shown his face in public since breaking up with Axl.
His fake girlfriend, Natalie, came over after school to talk to him. He hadn't told her about their breakup yet. She tapes his bandage and cups his face, "you look awful... when was the last time you slept?" He shrugs.
She sighs, "wanna tell me what happened?"
He nods slowly, then tells her everything, not leaving any detail out. "I fucked up, I mean I really fucked up, Nat. Bad." She wraps her arms around him tightly, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry this happened. I'm so sorry it's so difficult. It shouldn't have to be this difficult."
He felt safe with her. They had known each other since they were little kids. She was the first person he came out to, resulting in her doing the same and leading to their fake relationship.
He sighs. "Am I an asshole?" She looks up at him, "what makes you think that?" He looks down and frowns, "I'm the one who broke up with Ax... Because I said us being together is wrong." His voice shakes. "Well, do you really believe that?" She asks cautiously, knowing how vulnerable he was already feeling.
He shrugs, "I...I don't know."
Nat sighs, "what makes you think it's wrong?" Slash looks at her. For a long time. Then he comes up with an answer.
"Everyone hates me. They judged me before for having long hair, and for being black, and for dressing the way I do, and for the few times someone saw me with red nails. They judged me. But they tolerated me. They talked to me in class. I got invited to parties. But now they hate me. They look at me with pure disgust. They write shit all over my locker. They write death threats and put them in my locker. They tell me I should end it. The day I broke up with Ax, I was assaulted. I was walking home alone, and these two guys from the football team started attacking me. And they weren't stopping. They were actually going to kill me for the simple reason that I love a man. I love him so much, and I know love is hard, and it takes patience. But I don't want to live my life hiding from people who might actually try to beat me to death because of who I love. That's not fair."
She frowns. "Oh baby, I'm sorry..." Slash shrugs. "I guess this is just how it has to be..."
A few weeks go by. With the help of Natalie, Slash felt comfortable enough to start coming back to school. He dreaded seeing Axl. He was surprised when the entire day had passed and Axl was nowhere to be found.
He shrugged it off and went to find Nat. She was waiting for him outside the school with a big goofy grin on her face. He scrunches his face up, "why are you so happy?"
She grins up at him, "I have a date."
His eyes widen, "a date!? With who!?" She smiles, "she's new here. She's called Michelle. She's super cool, and she's really pretty and -" Slash interrupts her, "I get it you little lesbian." She giggles. She was so excited. He smiles. This was nice. He was happy for her.
The two of them start walking away from the school. Nat looks up at him, "you hungry?" Slash looks down at her, "yeah, I didn't eat lunch," she frowns, "why not?" "Fish."
She nods. She knew there was a time when he had a difficult relationship with food, but this was just him hating any kind of food that came from the ocean. "Well, my dad said we can go to the diner and get lunch and dinner whenever we want," he looks down, "yeah? How much?" She rolls her eyes, "it's free, dumbass." His eyes light up.
The diner wasn't far, and the walk there only built their appetite. They were walking towards the diner, Nat walked a little bit ahead of Slash before she realised he had stopped.
She turned back to look at him, "what's wrong?" He stayed silent. Just kept staring at whatever it was he was so interested in. She looks over to see what he was staring at, and then her face drops, "oh..."
Axl.
With another man.
#guns n roses#slash gnr#saul hudson#gnr fanfiction#guns n roses fanfic#slash fic#axl rose#axl rose fanfiction#axl gnr#slaxl#axl fic#slash x reader#gnr x reader#guns n roses x reader
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How the Night Changes
Summary: Based on the premise that having a threesome with Steve and Nancy would have saved Barb's life.
18+ MINORS DNI
"This isn't you, Nance," Barb sighed like she usually did.
Nancy looked at her like she always did when she was about to get herself into trouble. It's been like that since they were kids. Nancy would see something she'd want, and she'd go for it with reckless abandon. Barb always had to be there for her afterward and clean up the mess whenever it went wrong. Sometimes, it didn't. Sometimes, it worked out. She wasn't sure about this time. This was different than anything she had done. What if Nancy got hurt?
"Well, if you're so worried about me, then why don't you come up here and make sure I stay out of trouble?" Nancy smirked.
That was how Barb found herself in Steve Harrington's bedroom.
"Oh my God! My eyes!" Barb exclaimed.
"Barb!" Nancy exclaimed.
"It's a crime! Plaid on plaid and then, of course, there's the sad little picture of that car," Barb said. "Who decorates their room like this?"
"My mother," Steve said as he entered. "Yeah, she has terrible taste. I didn't have the heart to tell her at first that it was awful. My dad tells her things like that all the time just make her feel bad, and I didn't want to do that. She figured it out, though, and I tried to insist that it wasn't that bad. I put up that car picture to try and pull the room together. I was trying desperately to make my mom feel good about herself, but all it did was make it look more sad. We both thought it was so utterly ridiculous, and we ended up laughing so hard. . .so I don't keep it up because I think it looks good, it's just. . ."
"You keep it up because you love your mother," Nancy said.
"Yeah, Steve Harrington is a mama's boy," Steve said.
"I think it's actually sweet now that I know the story behind it," Barb said. "Sorry."
"Nah, your intention wasn't to make me feel bad," Steve shrugged. "And it is shocking the first time you see it."
Damn it, Barb cursed mentally. She was starting to like this guy.
"It's not too bad," Barb said, and he smiled.
"Here. I found you some clothes," Steve said and handed them to Nancy. "I'll leave you to it."
Barb recognized the look in Nancy's eyes. She had seen it many times when they had sleepovers, and she wanted to forgo their pajamas completely.
"Steve," Nancy called out.
Yep, there she goes. Steve turned and ran his hands through his hair. Okay, that was kind of cute. Wait, cute? She didn't find him cute, did she? No, she was strictly into girls, wasn't she? Suddenly, Nancy was taking off her shirt. Steve looked pleasantly surprised at the turn of events and he smiled.
"You're beautiful," Steve said and then looked at Barb. "What's happening here?"
"Well, Barb is here to make sure I don't get into trouble," Nancy said, smirking. "To look out for me. . .be my guardian."
"Well, she's a very good friend," Steve said smiling, and he moved closer to them.
"She is. . .we do everything together, but if you're not okay with that - " Nancy said.
"Oh, I'm definitely okay with that," Steve said.
Steve kissed Nancy. He was a lot more gentle than Barb thought he would be. Every touch said that he didn't want to hurt Nancy. A warm feeling began to stir within Barb as Steve kissed Nancy gently. He broke the kiss, and he turned to Barb, raising a questioning eyebrow at her.
"Barb?" Nancy asked.
"Well, I guess we really do everything together," Barb said with a sigh, and then she kissed Steve.
She could feel Steve smiling against her lips, and a giggle slipped out at what she had said. Okay, yeah, she liked kissing Steve. Almost as much as she liked kissing Nancy. Maybe it didn't matter to her what was on the outside, maybe it was what on the inside that sparked her attraction. It wasn't until that tidbit about his mother that Barb started to feel something. Barb cupped the back of Steve's head and deepened the kiss and loved the way that Steve kissed her back just as softly as he did with Nancy. He wanted to make sure that they were both safe and comfortable. Steve broke the kiss.
"If you guys want to stop this at any time, I would be happy to just hang out," Steve said.
"That's sweet, Steve," Barb said. "But we definitely want to do this. Right, Nance?"
"Definitely," Nancy said.
Nancy took off Barb's glasses and set them on the nightstand. She moved to the to the other side of Steve. Together, Nancy and Barb peeled off Steve's sweater, dropping it to the floor. Barb took off her jacket and sweater, dropping them amongst their clothes.
"I hope you don't mind - ," Barb said shyly.
"You're beautiful, too," Steve said, and he kissed her before stepping back to let Nancy in.
"Of course, you're beautiful," Nancy said, and she kissed Barb.
"Well, I already know that you don't mind," Barb said, rolling her eyes affectionately. "Just making sure that Steve doesn't."
"Oh, so, you've already been together. . .?" Steve asked.
"Well, not all the way," Nancy said.
"To be honest, I've never done it with two other people at the same time," Steve said, bashfully.
"Really?" Nancy and Barb asked.
"Why are you so surprised?" Steve scoffed. "Because I've slept with a few women?"
"I'm sorry," Nancy said.
"I kind of assumed Tommy and Carol," Barb said, sheepishly.
"Well, I mean, they tried," Steve said and he screwed up his face. "I heard what they're like when they have sex. No thank you."
Barb giggled. He was just as judgmental as she was. As hard as she tried not to be, she could be a little catty.
"So, I guess this is the first for all of us," Barb said.
Steve was just as gentle with them when he was kissing them. Nancy and Barb couldn't help but share a look when Steve wanted to hold both of their hands. It was proven to be true that he thought they were both beautiful when they shed all of their clothing, and his eyes were just as dark when he looked at either one of them. Everything had fallen out of her head. All she could think about was Steve and Nancy. Barb had even forgotten to mention something to Steve. Oh, right.
"Oh, I forgot to mention that Nancy likes to - "
"OW!"
" - bite."
"Do it again."
It had started out awkward at first but once they found a rhythm, it felt beautiful to Barb to do this with both of them. Barb could tell that Steve was trying to hold off a long as possible but judging by the noise he made and the feeling between her legs, he had finished. He had satisfied them both pretty well, but Barb wasn't surprised when Steve rolled out of bed to clean himself off and throw away the condom and Nancy climbed on top of her. Nancy had kissed her harshly before sliding between her legs with her own, pressing herself up against her. She knew how randy Nancy could get. Even after all of that, she always wanted more. She loved being overstimulated.
When Steve came back, he had a rag and a couple of bottles of water. He got to watch them go all the way with each other, and Barb made eye contact with him when Nancy rolled off her, collapsing onto the bed. At some point, he had slipped his boxers back on. Steve climbed into the bed and cleaned them both off before offering them both a bottle of water. Nancy slipped on a sweater of Steve’s, kissed him, and went to the bathroom. Right, you were supposed to use the bathroom after you had sex? Barb had been a little too fucked out to think clearly but she remembered that much. Barb pulled on her sweater and underwear, hurrying after Nancy to do the same.
"How are you feeling?" Steve asked after they crawled back into bed.
"We feel really good," Barb said. "You didn't hurt us at all."
"Well, not in a bad way, anyway," Nancy smiled.
"I'm tired, but my brain feels like it's on fire at the same time," Barb said. "I'm glad I decided not to sit outside and pout while Nancy had all the fun."
"I'm glad you didn't either," Steve said and kissed her cheek, resting his head on her shoulder.
"So, what did you mean when you said that Tommy and Carol tried?" Barb asked.
"Well, they attempted to seduce me, but they had a video camera, so I don't think their intentions were all that pure," Steve said. "I turned them down."
"You know, you seem nicer than I thought you'd be. I think I assumed you would be an asshole because of Tommy and Carol," Barb said. "Why do you hang out with them?"
"I'm curious to know myself," Nancy said.
"Well, Tommy didn't used to be so bad, not until Carol came along. He was my friend since I was eight, and I just hope that at some point, he will turn back to the Tommy that I used to know. I just can't seem to walk away from that," Steve said, and he paused, cursing. "Oh my God! I'm my mom!"
"What?" Nancy asked.
"No, my mom definitely deserves better, and she knows that, but she can't seem to walk away from my asshole of a father," Steve said, and then he scoffed. "I'm a kid that wants his parents to get a divorced."
"You're not alone with that," Nancy said as she ran her hand through his hair. "I want my parents to get divorced, too. I love them both, but I think they're just holding onto something that's never been there."
"I'm sorry," Steve said.
"I'm sorry, too," Nancy said.
"You know, my father expects a lot from me. He wants what's best for the image on his family, not what's best for me. It's the complete opposite of my mother," Steve sighed. "I'm tired of trying to be perfect all the time."
"Maybe you don't have to be with us," Barb said. "What do you say, Nancy? Should we keep him?"
"Oh, definitely," Nancy said.
"You know, now that you belong to us," Barb said, and Steve smirked. "Whatever decision you make about Tommy and Carol, we'll support it even if it's the stupid decision to stay with them."
"Thanks," Steve said fondly.
Nancy pushed him back, kissed him, and curled up against him. Barb laid down, kissed him as well, and threw an arm over the both of them.
"We should probably call our parents and tell them we're spending the night at each other's houses," Barb said.
"Oh, right, good idea!" Nancy exclaimed.
After calling their parents, they crawled back into bed and started to drift off to sleep.
BANG!
"What the hell was that?" Steve asked, sitting up.
"It sounded like it came from outside," Nancy said.
Barb, who was closer to the window, rolled out of bed and looked out onto the pool in the backyard. There was a rather large, deformed looking animal banging out the lawn chairs by the pool. It was sniffing rather frantically as though it was looking for something.
"What the fuck is that?" Barb gasped and grabbed her glasses, putting them on. "FUCK!"
Steve and Nancy rushed to the window. The deformed looking animal looked up, revealing that it didn't have a face. It wasn't an animal that Barb had ever seen before. Steve and Nancy gasped as it's face opened up, revealing several rows of teeth.
"Shit!" Steve exclaimed.
The monster rolled out its tongue and started lapping up something on the concrete.
"What's it doing?" Nancy whispered.
That was where Barb had been standing when she sliced her thumb with the knife. She glanced down at her hand.
"Licking my blood," Barb said. "It's hungry."
The monster stopped what it was doing and sniffed the air. Its head snapped in their direction, almost as if it heard Barb. She quickly yanked them both down under the window and grabbed their hands in hers. The only sound they could hear was their own shaky breathing. It seemed like forever had passed but really it had only been minutes when they heard a loud splashing sound and a screech. Nancy peered over the windowsill.
"Nance!" Barb hissed.
"It fell into the pool," Nancy whispered. "It doesn't not like it. It's burning its skin. It must be the chlorine. It's out, it's running away."
There was a pregnant pause as Steve and Barb looked out the window with Nancy.
"It's gone," Steve whispered. "Yeah, I'm not fucking sleeping tonight."
"Me neither," Barb and Nancy said.
Barb struggled to find anything to say or to think about other than the monster. There was one fact that Barb couldn't get out of her head, and it was the stupidest thing in the world to think about.
"If I had been out there, it would have gotten me," Barb breathed out shakily.
"But it didn't, you're here," Nancy said and squeezing her hand.
"Fucking you and Steve saved my life," Barb said.
She looked at Steve and together, they burst into laughter. Nancy eventually followed suite.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Nancy exclaimed.
"I know, but it's true!" Barb giggled.
Once the laughter died down, the horror of what just happened continued to hover over them. They said that they wouldn't fall asleep but the three of them ended up falling asleep, curled up on the floor.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Barb, Steve, and Nancy woke up with a jolt to the sound of Steve’s alarm clock. They jumped up, ready to fight. Barb groaned and rubbed her back.
"Yeah, falling asleep on the floor was a terrible accident," Barb said.
"Did that really happen last night?" Steve asked as he rubbed Barb's back.
"Yes, you did get to see the amazing secrets that I hold underneath my sweater," Barb said.
"No, not that," Steve snorted. "No. . .I mean. . .the monster. . . "
"Yeah," Barb said softly. "That was real."
"Well, going to the police seems stupid. I doubt they would believe us about what we saw," Nancy said.
"Okay, but shouldn't we tell someone?" Barb asked.
"Who would we tell?" Steve asked.
"I think our only option is to go to school and just act like nothing is wrong until we can come up with a plan," Nancy said. "We need proof."
Barb dropped Nancy off at home and then back to hers so they could get ready. The image of the monster floated into her head, and she couldn't get the fact that she could have died out it. Somehow, at the same time, she was also wondering where she stood with Steve and Nancy. Everything changed that night. Nancy and Barb could no longer deny that there was something between them. They always played it off as practicing but now that they went all the way with each other and also with Steve. Does that mean that Steve is her boyfriend and Nancy was her girlfriend? She couldn't help but giggle at the thought. She always figured that she would never have a boyfriend but now, maybe, she did. It was Steve Harrington of all people.
"Hey," Nancy said shyly as she slid into her car.
After getting ready, she went to pick Nancy up again. The car ride was silent until Nancy told her to stop.
"Nancy, what - "
She was cut off by Nancy kissing her. Barb was surprised for a moment, but she eagerly kissed her back. God, she wanted to pull her into her lap, and just - Nancy pulled away with a gasp.
"I just wanted to make sure that no one saw us," Nancy said.
Barb smiled at her as she took her hand and drove off. They ended up parking behind Eddie Munson's van, and a few minutes later, Steve found them. He made sure no one was watching before popping his head through the window to give Barb a kiss and then Nancy before letting them get out of the car. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets.
"I ditched Tommy and Carol," he said.
"Really?" Barb asked.
"Well, life is too short for me to be dragged down by those two idiots. I found something better for me, I think," Steve said. "Honestly, after what happened last night, it seems dumb to worry about popularity and all that when there's a monster out there."
"Well, it's good you got some perspective," Barb said. "And honestly, you're not the only one who's ever worried about that shit. There was a small part of me who wished that some of those people would acknowledge me a little."
"Really?" Steve and Nancy asked.
"Don't be so surprised," Barb said. "Come on, I don't want to be late for class."
"Great, and during lunch, we can talk about what to do about the monster with a flower for a head and teeth like a shark," Steve said. "Can't believe those words came out of my mouth."
"Well, it hates chlorine. That's one thing we know about it," Barb said.
As the three of them walked away, a confused Eddie Munson popped his head out of his van.
"Did Steve Harrington give up his crown to play D&D?" Eddie asked. "What the fuck kind of monster is he talking about? No, no, I'm hearing things again."
It was a tame sort of day compared to last night. It was still sort of an out of body experience to be hanging out with Steve knowing what they did. It made Barb blush when Steve and Nancy thought about it, too, sending her soft, knowing smiles her way. Tommy and Carol were petty bitches, trying to get under their skin all day but they ignored them. . .for the most part.
"So, Wheeler," Tommy said, slamming his hands onto the cafeteria table. "What is your ideal of a perfect date?"
"Watching you get hit by a bus," Nancy said.
Barb and Steve nearly choked on their milk. They cleared their throats, looking amused as Tommy's face started to turn different shades of red. Carol glared at her.
"How pathetic - ," Tommy started to say.
"I don't know, Tommy, how pathetic are you?" Barb asked. "I mean, I assume that's what you were going to say considering that you are being pathetic."
"You little - "
"Don't you finish that sentence," Nancy glared at him.
"You think you're so much better than us, but considering how easy it was to spread your legs for Stevie here last night, you're not really," Carol told Nancy.
"At least we actually like Steve. Do you even like spending time with him or listening to anything he has to say, or do you just like what he does for your image?" Barbara asked. "You can't stand on your own, so you use Steve like a crutch."
"Steve doesn't need you, but you need Steve," Nancy said. "And now that Steve doesn't want anything to do with you, you think that you can come over here and try to fuck with us until we leave."
"Well, we're not fucking leaving so find someone else's ass to bury your nose in," Barb said.
"Whatever," Tommy said. "Stevie-boy, running away like a fucking coward like always. You can't even stand up for yourself. You have to have these ugly bitches to protect you. You're not going to find anything better than us, and when you eventually get bored with them, we're not going to be here to save your sorry ass."
"They're better than you'll ever be, and if you think I'm ashamed of them fighting for me, then you're as stupid as you look. I know what it's like for people to really have your back, to care. . .one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've cared about all the wrong things. You're going to look even more pathetic and stupid than you do right now. You'll be as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside. You'll look in the mirror and realize that you had your chance but you fucked it up. I'm tired of waiting for you to be the old Tommy that I used to know, the one who actually gave a damn. Being friends with these two, I have better odds at not hating myself in the future than you do. What are your odds, Tommy?" Steve snapped.
Tommy scowled at him, his face bright red, and angry tears filled his eyes. He didn't have anything else left to say, so he stormed off, dragging Carol with him.
"That was hot," Barb said.
"That really was," Nancy agreed.
They nudged their feet with Steve’s and he smiled at them.
"You two weren't so bad yourselves," Steve grinned, and the smile slipped from his face. "I don't really feel like going to the game this afternoon. I don't know if I can go home either knowing what might be waiting for me."
"Well, maybe we can go over to my house this evening. My brother could use some company. And if you're scared of going home, maybe Mom will let me keep you in my basement," Nancy joked.
"I always did like the idea of being a kept man," Steve said.
"Eddie Munson is staring at you," Barb said.
"Probably wondering how I got so lucky with you two," Steve said with a charming smile.
"No need to strain yourself, Steve," Barb teased. "You've got us."
They moved on to discussing what they were going to do about the monster and whether or not it wasn't just a shared delusion between them. It was decided that it wasn't. The rest of the day moved rather quickly, still without a plan for the creature that haunted all of them. When the end of the day came, they moved sluggishly out into the parking lot. All three of them were exhausted from not getting much sleep last night. They almost didn't notice Nicole approaching them.
"Nancy, Barb, I'm so glad I found you," Nicole said. "I want you to know, first off, that I'm not going to say anything. I have a cousin who's like that, and I would never say a word."
"What are you talking about?" Nancy asked.
"Were you aware that Jonathan Byers was at your house last night?" Nicole asked Steve.
"What? No," Steve said.
"Well, I went into the dark room, and Jonathan was developing photos of your house. You and Tommy were in the pool with Carol and Nancy. Then there was a picture taken of your bedroom. Nancy was taking off her shirt, and so was Barb. You were kissing."
Barb felt her stomach plummet. Her worst nightmare and Nancy's. Well, one of them, anyway. Fuck. Normally, she wouldn't care about what others think, but this was different. If this got out, it could be dangerous for her and Nancy.
"Son of a bitch!" Steve yelled and then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thanks for telling us, Nicole."
Barb turned to Nancy, who was quiet, her eyes downcast as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was clearly uncomfortable by the thought of what Jonathan did and Barb hated him for it.
"Yeah, thank you, Nicole. We'll take care of it," Barb said.
Nicole smiled sympathetically at Nancy and walked away.
"You know how many times I defended Jonathan to Tommy whenever they had something shitty to say about Jonathan and his family?" Steve asked, his jaw clenched.
"Yeah, I figured that out when you told Tommy off yesterday when he was saying all that shit about his missing brother," Barb said and then muttered, "I thought he was a nice guy."
"Okay, one problem at a time!" Nancy exclaimed, and then she paused. "Wait, the photos. . . What else do you think he got a picture of?"
"I don't know. . .Tommy and Carol going at it in my parents' bed?" Steve asked.
"No, think again," Nancy said.
"The monster!" Barb and Steve gasped.
"Let's go find the creep," Nancy said.
It didn't long to find him making his way to his car. He looked startled to see all three of them together.
"Where are the pictures you took last night?" Nancy asked, her arms still crossed.
Barb knew how much Steve wanted to step in. She wanted to as well, but she felt like Nancy needed to handle this herself. She took his hand, squeezing it affectionately. God, his hands were huge. Suddenly, she recalled the way they squeezed her thighs last night. Right, focus.
"What photos?" Jonathan asked, his face turning a paler shade of white.
"You know exactly what photos that I am talking about, asshole," Nancy spat.
Nancy had that fire still inside her from earlier, and she was using it now.
"I didn't - " Jonathan stuttered as he held his bag closer to him.
Before Jonathan knew it, Nancy had yanked the bag from him. She rifled through it and pulled out the photos victoriously. Nancy shoved the bag at him and started looking through the pictures. Barb peered over her should and paled at the sight of herself shirtless as she kissed Nancy. Now, she was uncomfortable. She felt Steve squeeze her hand.
"I - I was looking for my brother," Jonathan stuttered.
"No, this is called stalking," Steve said, looking at him in disbelief.
"I'm sure that it started out like that," Barb scoffed at Jonathan.
"Do you know how stupid it was that you developed these on school property? I mean, you could have locked the fucking door or something?!" Nancy asked furiously. "What would have happened if this had gotten out?"
Barb suddenly realized what Nancy was doing. She was protecting Barb this time instead of the other way around.
"I didn't think about that," Jonathan said.
"Clearly," Nancy scoffed.
"I just thought it was a good picture," he said meekly. "There was this girl who was trying to be someone else."
"That's bullshit!" Nancy and Barb exclaimed.
"You know, I thought that once, too. I thought Nancy was trying to be someone she wasn't. I realized that I was wrong. The simple fact is that she wanted to sleep with Steve, and eventually, I realized that I wanted to as well. I realized how exciting it was to explore a side of yourself that you didn't know was there. There's nothing artistic about the pictures that you took. You fucked up so you're trying to say anything to make you feel better about what you did. Steve didn't make us do anything that we didn't want to," Barb said. "I thought you were the kind of guy who would never do something like this."
"I'm sorry," Jonathan said.
"Well, I'm taking these photos," Nancy said and paused before snatching his camera as well. "I'm also taking this, and I will think about giving it back to you when I feel like you earned it."
"You want me to write an essay, too?" Jonathan scoffed.
"Come to think, yeah, you definitely should," Barb said. "Write until your fingers bleed. I want an in-depth analysis of why you thought it was okay to do that. . .I mean, after you find your brother safe and sound because I do get that you're going through something."
The three of them walked back to Barb's car with the camera and the photos in Nancy's hand.
"God, I wanted to smash his camera," Steve said.
"Yeah, so did I. Do you think he understands how close he came to outing us?" Barb asked.
"I mean, he did out us, but thankfully, Nicole is a decent person," Nancy said. "And I kind of wanted to smash it, too."
"Do you think we should tell him we're probably not going to bring the photos to the police?" Barb asked. "His mother has been through enough."
"Nah, let him sweat and think we are," Steve said grinning.
"Thank you for letting us handle that," Nancy said to Steve.
"Well, I thought about what Barb said about supporting my decision with Tommy and Carol. . .thought maybe I should do the same," Steve said, blushing.
"Oh, you're cute," Barb said.
"Yeah, how cute am I?" Steve asked.
"Get in the car, and I'll show you how cute I think you are," Barb said.
"Really?" Nancy asked, smiling at the two of them.
"Totally your fault, Nance, you showed me a new side of myself, and I like it," Barb said. "I like Steve."
"I like you, too," Steve said.
"Okay, well, let's focus on the photos," Nancy said and slapped the photo on the hood of Barb's car. "We got our proof."
There, in the photo, was the monster sniffing around the lawn chairs. It was hard to tell from the photo that Jonathan clearly accidentally took, but it was there.
"So, now, what?" Steve asked.
"Go home, and come up with a plan," Nancy said.
They jumped when they heard someone approaching them, and they whirled around, covering the photo. It was just Eddie Munson.
"We're not doing anything illegal!" Steve blurted out.
"Right," Eddie grinned. "I'm not a cop, you know."
"Obviously," Steve scoffed.
"Or maybe I am. Might be an undercover cop," Eddie said, twirling his keys in his hand. "Might have to arrest you on suspicion alone."
"Yeah, good luck with that," Steve replied. "And I might have believed that if I didn't remember you from middle school and just so you know, I'm really good at getting myself out of cuffs."
"Yeah, I bet you are, big boy," Eddie said, winking, got into his van, and drove off.
Barb and Nancy looked at Steve, scoffing.
"Really?"
"What?" Steve asked.
"Flirting with someone else right in front of us," Barb said.
"Classy, Steve," Nancy said.
"What? No! He means nothing to me!" Steve exclaimed. "And I didn't even know I was flirting with him! . . . You guys are messing with me, aren't you?"
Nancy and Barb giggled as they got into her car.
"Classy!"
Steve pulled up behind Barb in Nancy's driveway and followed after them into the house. Mrs. Wheeler greeted them at the door, chasing after Holly.
"Oh, hey, Barb, does your parents know you're here?" Mrs. Wheeler asked.
"I let them know before we left school," Barb said.
"And who is this?" Karen asked.
"Larry!" Holly exclaimed, hugging her leg.
"Oh, honey, I'm sure he came with his own name," Karen said. "He's not a stray cat."
"I'm Steve Harrington," he smiled. "But Holly can call me whatever she wants to."
"Larry!" She yelled. "I like your hair."
"I like yours, too," Steve said.
Holly giggled and ran off towards her room.
"Steve, is it?" Mrs. Wheeler asked. "Hm, that name sounds familiar."
"I'm sorry, mom," Nancy said. "I totally lied to you. Steve is my boyfriend. We just started dating, I didn't want to freak him out by introducing him to you so soon."
"You've got amazing daughters, Mrs. Wheeler," Steve said. "And Nancy's been treating me really great. Very respectful. I like her a lot."
"We like her too," Mrs. Wheeler said. "Well, sometimes."
"Mom!" Nancy exclaimed.
"Nancy, you didn't tell me your mom was so funny!" Steve laughed.
"She likes to think she is," Nancy muttered.
"No, Mrs. Wheeler is definitely hilarious," Barb said.
"Thank you, Barbara," Mrs. Wheeler said.
"They offered to help me study, I'm having difficulty in Chemistry," Steve said.
"Oh, well, you definitely came to the right people," Mrs. Wheeler said. "Do your parents know where you are?"
"Well, uh, my parents are out of town," Steve said. "I couldn't get a hold of them earlier."
"And is anyone staying with you?" Mrs. Wheeler asked with a frown.
"Just me," Steve said.
"Give me their number, I'll call them," Mrs. Wheeler said. "I'll also call Claudia Henderson and see if she'll be happy to take you in. I'm sure she will be."
Barb knew that look. It was the same determined look that Nancy had. She tried not to laugh when Steve immediately gave her the number. Nancy rolled her eyes at Steve's dumbfounded look before dragging them upstairs.
"What is she going to say to parents?" Steve asked.
"You probably don't want to know," Barb replied.
Steve threw himself onto Nancy's bed and grabbed the teddy bear on her bed, holding it to his chest.
"You really like that bear," Nancy said as she closed her door.
"It reminds me of the one I used to have. My grandfather gave it to me," Steve said.
"You don't have it anymore?" Barb asked.
"Nah, my dad gave it away because he said I was too old for it," Steve said.
"The more I hear about your dad. . .," Barb trailed off.
"The more you want to smash his camera?" Steve asked and Barb laughed.
She crawled onto the bed and leaned her back against the headboard. She pulled Steve to her chest and Steve sighed happily as he snuggled into her. Nancy laid down next to Barb.
"Okay, what's our plan?" Nancy asked.
"I don't know, I can't really think right now," Steve said. "I'm suddenly very sleepy."
"Well, we didn't get very much sleep last night," Barb smirked.
"We definitely didn't," Steve said.
"We have to come up with a plan, there's a monster out there," Nancy said. "We need to keep ourselves awake."
"I thought I was a lesbian," Barb said. "Until last night. Kind of thought Nancy was too."
"I thought I was too," Nancy giggled.
"Maybe we are lesbians but we're also stevesexual," Barb said.
"Oh, you're definitely stevesexual," Steve replied.
"That is NOT a word," Nancy laughed.
"Newsflash, Nance, all words are made up," Barb replied. "Lesbians existed before the word existed."
"You're definitely tired, Barbara," Nancy replied.
"No, no, she's onto something. I mean, you can call yourself anything," Steve said.
"I could call myself a pineapple if I wanted to," Barb teased.
"You can't!" Nancy giggled.
"Why the hell not?" Barb asked.
"Because I hate pineapples and I definitely don't hate you," she said.
"Hm, I guess I can't call myself a pineapple," Barb said and kissed Nancy. "I guess I only care about what's on the inside."
"Me too," Nancy said.
"You both have sexy hearts," Barb said, yawning.
"Yeah, we definitely need a nap," Nancy said.
"A real nap?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, a real nap, Steven."
When they woke up, it was dark outside, and Nancy's bedroom door was wide open. Mrs. Wheeler had been in here. The three of them wandered downstairs to find Mrs. Wheeler standing in the entryway, hugging Mike as he cried.
"Mom? Did they find Will?" Nancy asked and Mike's sobs grew louder.
The next morning was a somber affair, and the three of them stood in the parking lot before school once again.
"I had hoped that they wouldn't have found him like that," Barb said.
"Yeah, me too," Steve said.
"I should have stayed, but Mike insisted that he was fine and that I should go to school," Nancy said. "I feel weird being here knowing how upset he is."
"Well, you want to skip, and we can go check on him?" Steve asked.
"That's a sweet offer, but I want to respect his space, too," Nancy said. "He'll come to me if he needs me. I let him know that I'll be there for him when he's ready."
"I never know what to say in situations like this. Everything feels like it's - " Steve started to say.
"Like it's not enough?" Barb asked.
"Yeah," Nancy said.
"Didn't your dad offer to do the same thing?" Barb asked.
"He did, according to mom. He's still dad," Nancy smiled.
"What does that mean?" Steve asked.
"Lately, he's been stuck in his chair and a lot more lethargic. I'm worried that he might have a tumor or something," Nancy said.
"Or maybe he's having a hard time at work," Barb suggested.
"Maybe," Nancy sighed. "So this monster. . .I'm starting to think that it might have something to do with Will's disappearance. I know they said he fell into the quarry, and maybe he did. . .or maybe he was chased into the quarry by something."
"Like the monster, you mean?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," Nancy said.
"Yeah, I can see that," Steve said. "I don't see us approaching Will's mom about this so. . ."
"That leaves Jonathan," Barb said, rolling her eyes. "This is so going to be so awkward. So, Steve, how was it staying with the Hendersons?"
"Well, Claudia is amazing. Dustin's a little shit but somehow, at the same time, it's endearing," Steve said, his face scrunched up in confusion.
"Congratulations, Steve, you just got yourself a bouncing baby brother," Nancy said. "It's both wonderful and stressful at the same time. You're going to love it."
When they did find Jonathan, he was picking out caskets for his brother. So, yeah, it's very awkward. She still hated him for what he did, but she was a big enough person to also feel sympathy for the situation that he was in. They pulled him into the entryway where Nancy showed him a picture of the monster.
"I thought my mom was crazy," Jonathan said. "She kept going on about a monster without a face, a monster in the walls, and I - I didn't believe her."
"You didn't know," Nancy said softly.
"All three of you saw it?" Jonathan asked.
"Yeah, it was definitely gunning for Barb's blood," Steve said.
"Well, that's disturbing," Jonathan said.
Barb bit back a retort. He would know what's disturbing, wouldn't he?
"Okay, so, what do we do? Do we tell someone or try to kill it ourselves?" Barb asked.
"How would we kill it?" Jonathan asked. "We don't have anything. I mean, my dad has a Smith & Wesson."
"Well, we know Chlorine hurts the fucker. Fire generally kills most things," Barb said.
"I don't know if I can do this right now," Jonathan muttered.
"Well, that's understandable," Nancy said. "We can figure it out later."
"Do you mind - ?" Jonathan asked.
"Of course. Just let us know if you need anything," Nancy said.
"Thanks," Jonathan said. "I can do this by myself."
Nancy squeezed his arm and exited the funeral home with her partners.
"You're amazing, you know that?" Steve said to Nancy. "Even after everything he's done, you're still willing to help him."
"It's nothing," Nancy said, bashfully.
"You're a bigger person than I am," Barb grinned. "You and that sexy heart of yours."
"Okay, so, after the funeral tomorrow we gather the supplies and we hunt this fucker down," Nancy said. "Hopefully, we can get the gun from Jonathan."
"You're really determined to take this monster down," Barb said.
"It came after my brother's friend, and then it tried to come after you," Nancy said. "I want to kill it."
"I love you," Barb said.
The next day, Barb was getting dressed for Will's funeral when her mother entered her bedroom.
"So, you and Nancy have been hanging out with Steve Harrington lately," her mother said.
"Where are you going with this, mom?" Barb asked.
"Well, you've complained a lot about him in the past," she said.
"Turns out Tommy and Carol were the assholes," Barb said. "I made a snap judgment of him. He wasn't who I thought he was. . .in a good way, though."
"Well, we all sort of do it," she said.
"He dumped his supposed friends for us," Barb beamed.
"Well, I'm glad," she said.
"Okay, mom, what's this all about?" Barb asked.
"You know you can talk to us about anything, right?" She asked. "We'll always love you, no matter what. I'm not trying to push you into talking about anything. I just want you to know we're here for you whenever you're ready."
"Okay, mom, what do you know?" Barb asked.
"What? Me? I don't know anything," she said innocently.
"Mom! Do you know about me, Steve, and Nancy?" Barb asked.
"Oh, well, yes," She said.
"It's only been like three days!" Barb exclaimed.
"And you were very obvious, dear," she said. "With the way you talked about them. We've known about you and Nancy even longer, and we were alright with it. I mean, we figured you girls would share everything, although we never expected an entire person."
"So, what? Like half a person, then?" Barb asked sarcastically.
"Barbara!" She chuckled.
"Why are you saying this now?" Barb asked.
"Well, we wanted to wait and give you time to come to us on your own, but with Will dying. . .you never know how much time you have left with your children. We both wanted you to feel accepted," She said.
"Oh, mommy," she said softly. "I love you so much. . .where's dad?"
"I promised myself I wouldn't cry!" Her father's voice floated in from the hallway.
"He started crying before we even came in here," she said. "He loves you so much."
"This was supposed to be all about you, I did not want to make it about myself again!" Her father sobbed.
"Daddy, get in here!" Barb laughed.
Her father shuffled in, his face red from crying. She smiled and hugged her father tightly. God, she had the best parents in the world. Her mother clapped and quickly joined the hug. She shouldn't be this happy going to a funeral, especially for a kid. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of the Steve and Nancy. She quickly made herself look sad, though, as she stood beside them. She looked at Joyce and Jonathan. God, they looked so heartbroken. . .so lost. Joyce was glaring at the casket as if she didn't believe what was in there. Maybe it wasn't Will. Maybe somehow he was still alive somewhere, maybe it was a fake body lying in that coffin. Barb wanted it to he true for Joyce's sake.
"I want to kill it," Jonathan said.
They had gathered together after the funeral to talk about what they were going to do. Nancy had brought a map to look to track where the monster might be going.
"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.
"Yes," Jonathan said.
"What about your mom?" Barb asked.
"I'll tell her after this thing is dead," Jonathan said.
After the funeral, they all got dressed and ran off to gather more supplies. Jonathan had managed to steal his father's gun, but they still needed a bigger arsenal. Nancy managed to bring her bat from home, and Barb managed to swipe a couple of knives from her mother's collection.
"Your mother likes knives?" Steve asked Barb.
"Oh, yeah," Nancy laughed. "It's impressive, actually."
"So, you better not break my heart or Nancy's," Barb whispered.
"Noted," Steve laughed, and they moved through the aisle. "So, why aren't we telling an adult about this again?"
"My mom's not in the right headspace," Jonathan said.
"Are you in the right headspace?" Steve asked.
"I have to be," Jonathan said.
"Hm, I've had Dustin Henderson as a sort of brother for like five seconds, but I think I'd kill for him," Steve said. "I don't what it's like to have a brother, though I've always wanted one. I can imagine that it must be nice."
"How come you don't have a brother?" Jonathan asked.
"I asked my dad that once when I was like eight, and he said my gigantic head ruined my mother for him," Steve said.
"Jesus," Jonathan said.
"Yeah, I mean, it's not that big," Steve said.
"I'm talking about your dad. What an asshole," Jonathan said.
"Yeah, I never got why she's still with him," Steve said.
"Never really understood why my mom stayed with my dad for so long either," Jonathan said. "She's always said that sometimes good things come out of bad situations."
"Like you and your brother?" Steve asked.
"Oh, yeah, I guess she was talking about us," Jonathan said.
Barbara smiled at them, glad that Steve was making a better friend in Jonathan who actually seemed genuinely sorry that he took those photos. Still, he had a lot to prove. Once they got to the counter, the guy there looked at them funny.
"What are you guys planning to do with all this?" He asked.
"Monster hunting," Nancy replied.
Luckily, the guy thought it was a joke. . .or he really didn't want to know. Either way, they managed to get out of there without any more questions and quickly loaded it in the back of Steve’s car.
"It's weird. Just a few days ago, Barb and I were shopping to find a sweater that I thought that Steve would like," Nancy said.
"Really?" Steve asked.
"Oh, I told her that you probably wouldn't care," Barb said.
"Anything purple or pink, really," Steve said, and they looked at him. "It just seems like it's your favorite color. You like beam more when you wear them."
"Blue's one of my favorites, too," Nancy replied.
"So, what's the weirdest part about all of this? The monster hunting or hanging out with me?" Jonathan asked.
"Oh, definitely, you," Nancy, Barb, and Steve all laughed.
Jonathan was about to reply when someone drove by and stuck their head out the window to yell at them.
"Hey, Nance, I can't wait to see your movie!" And they didn't wait for a response.
"What the hell?" Steve asked.
They followed Nancy to the Hawk. Spray painted on the theater under "All the Right Moves" were the words written in spray paint: starring Nancy "the slut" Wheeler.
"Oh, someone's going to be dead," Barb scowled. "Or at least they wish they were."
They followed the sound of spray paints and laughter to the alleyway beside the theater. Of course, it was Tommy and Carol.
"Hey, assholes!" Steve yelled.
Things did not get better after that. Nancy slapped Tommy, Tommy said words to both Jonathan and Steve while Barb yelled at Carol for words she said about Nancy. Jonathan had thrown the first punch at Tommy, who swung back and knocked him on his ass before turning on Steve. He had Steve on the ground, who fought well, but Tommy fought harder. He kept hitting Steve even when Steve could barely get a word in. Nancy and Barb screamed, trying to get Tommy off of Steve. Jonathan managed to get back up and pulled Tommy off of Steve. He hit him and kept hitting him until Tommy was the one on his back. Jonathan didn't even notice that the cops had shown up, and he accidentally hit one. That's how they all ended up at the police station.
"Steve, are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Barb asked as she held ice to his eye.
"I'm fine, really," Steve said. "I just want to make sure that Jonathan doesn't go to jail."
"Thanks, man, but you don't have to do that," Jonathan said.
"Nah, I'm good," Steve said. "Really."
"That lady doesn't know what she's talking about," Nancy told Jonathan as she did the same with his eye.
"Yeah, you punched the douche because he was insulting your family," Steve said, and then he frowned. "I wonder if that would have been me, you know, if things hadn't changed, you know, if I hadn't walked away from them. . ."
"You can't think of the what ifs, Steve," Barb said. "They'll eat you alive, but you would have gotten there eventually, and you wouldn't have been nearly as cruel as Tommy."
"I do have to admit that you're a good guy," Jonathan mumbled.
"Coming from Jonathan Byers, that's a compliment," Steve smiled. "I think, anyway. . .you're not entirely bad yourself."
"I really am sorry about the photos, you know, and my reaction to taking them. . .there's really no excuse," Jonathan said.
"Well, you really proved yourself back there," Nancy said.
"You totally did," Barb said.
"Saved my ass, man," Steve said.
"Does that mean that I'll get my camera back?" He asked.
"You still have an essay to write," Nancy said.
"You're serious about that?" He asked.
"Oh, yeah," Barb and Nancy said, giggling.
"Why is my son in cuffs?!" They heard Joyce Byers yell. "Take them off!"
"He assaulted a police officer, ma'am," Callahan said.
"Take them off! Now!" Joyce yelled at them, Chief Hopper coming in behind her.
"You heard her, take them off," Hopper said.
Callahan sighed and took the cuffs off of Jonathan.
"There's something you should see, Chief," Powell said.
Barb shared a look with the others. Shit, they were going to look in the trunk. Powell led Hopper outside, and a moment later, they came back, looking even more serious.
"Care to explain why you have all of that?" Hopper asked Jonathan.
"You won't believe us," he said.
"Why don't you give us a try?" Hopper asked.
Barb, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan squeezed into the chief's office, away from prying eyes. Hopper was looking at the photo of the monster.
"And this thing is drawn to blood?" Hopper asked.
"Well, that's the theory," Nancy said. "Not really a theory, I guess, because it smelled Barb's blood and tried to go after her. It would have, too, if it hadn't fallen into the pool."
"And if I hadn't been hanging out with Steve and Nancy inside," Barb said.
"Is this the only photo?" Hopper asked.
"The only photo of the monster," Nancy replied as she shoved Jonathan's camera and the other photos into her bag.
"Why does Nancy have your camera?" Joyce asked.
"I'm letting her borrow it for a school project," Jonathan said, blushing, and Joyce looked at him doubtfully.
"Let's go talk in the hallway," Joyce said and pulled him out of the room.
"You do realize that it was unbelievable dangerous to try and go after this thing by yourselves?" Hopper asked.
"Yeah, we always knew that, but it didn't seem like anyone was trying to stop this thing, and honestly, I wanted to get it before it got me or anyone else I cared about," Barb said.
"I definitely wasn't going to let it get Barb," Nancy said.
"Me neither. . .also, there is no way that I was going to be able to sleep in that empty house with that thing on the loose," Steve said.
"Empty? Where are your parents?" Hopper asked.
"Oh, out of town," Steve said.
"Did they say when they'll be back?" He asked.
"I don't know. That kind of depends on whether my dad cheats on my mom again," Steve said. "If he does, they usually stay longer."
"Are you expecting a call from them anytime soon?" Hopper asked.
"When they can remember to, they'll call, so no," Steve said, and Hopper clenched his fists. "Did I say something wrong?"
Hopper sighed, unclenched his fists, and squeezed Steve’s shoulders gently.
"No, kid, you didn't," Hopper said.
"We should definitely make you staying with Claudia a permanent thing," Nancy said.
"I'm definitely going to look into that," Hopper said.
"Shouldn't we be focusing on the monster?" Steve asked, blushing.
It wasn't hard to figure out that the girl with the powers that Joyce and Hopper had been looking for was with Nancy's brother and his friends. When they showed up to Nancy's house, there were tons of vans parked out front and people in suits searching the place. Nancy moved towards her house, but Barb and Steve grabbed her hands.
"That's my house!" Nancy exclaimed.
"They haven't found him yet," Steve said.
"That's true. Look, Nance," Barb said, pointing at the helicopters. "They're still looking for him.
"They're right," Hopper said.
"All that's for Mike?" Nancy asked, stunned.
"Do you have any idea where they might go?" Joyce asked them.
"No," Jonathan said. "But I know how we might find out."
Barb and Nancy went with Steve in his car while Jonathan went off with his parents. Jonathan might as well call Hopper his dad, Barb thought. Jonathan looked at Hopper like he was the first man who came through for him in his entire life, and he was doing it all to help his family. It was a shock when they showed up to the Byer home to find it a complete mess with a hole in the wall and Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling. Joyce had been really desperate to find her son. Not that Barb had blamed her, considering the lengths that Nancy was going to in order to keep her safe. They managed to make contact with the kids, and the rest of them stayed behind while Hopper went to pick up the kids. When they finally returned, night had fallen. Barb watched with a smile as Nancy ran out to greet her brother.
"Steve!" Dustin exclaimed and ran to him, hugging him as tightly as Nancy hugged Mike.
"Looks like someone made an impression," Barb teased Steve and then turned to Dustin. "And if you're lucky, you might get to keep him."
"Cool! I always wanted an older brother! What happened to your face?" Dustin asked.
"My former friend Tommy didn't like that I started hanging out with people who are cooler than he is," Steve said.
"What a mouth breather," Dustin scowled.
"You said it," Steve grinned and placed his hand on his head. "Glad you're okay."
They all moved into the house where the boys explained to them about the Upside Down and how El was able to get a glimpse into the other world with her powers. It angered Barb to no end that this girl had been raised in a lab her entire life and experimented on. That was the only life she had ever known, and she had been taken from her mother in order to be turned into a weapon. As a babysitter and a human being, she couldn't understand how people could do that. . .use children as a weapon for their own cruel reasons. The difference here, with them using El, was that they made sure El knew what she was getting into and that it was her choice to do this. It was how they ended up at the middle school, preparing a homemade deprivation tank for El's power.
"It's crazy what you kids went through," Steve said to Mike as he went with him, Nancy, and Barb to grab the hoses. "I would have been terrified. How high does your IQ have to be to have outrun those suits?"
"It was a group effort," Mike shrugged.
"No, you're definitely smart," Barb said. "But you also got lucky like we did. We could have definitely used you on our team."
Barb could feel Nancy smiling at both her and Steve. She just wanted to let Mike know that he should probably contact them next time without telling out right that he needed a babysitter.
"I thought you hated Steve, Barb," Mike said.
"Well, I just didn't know him," Barb said. "Plus, there's nothing like a nine foot tall monster with a flower face to really bring you together."
And there really wasn't. Oh, she wished Mike wasn't looking so she could kiss both Steve and Nancy. Nancy picked up a rock and smashed open the lock to the shed. Using a wheelbarrow, they pushed the hoses up back to the school.
"So, do you like El now?" Nancy asked.
"What?! Ew! No, gross!" Mike scowled and Steve laughed. "Do you like Jonathan now?"
"What?! No! We-I'm dating Steve," Nancy said.
Barb shared an amused smile with Steve. It was going to come out eventually, but maybe now wasn't the best time. Barb knew how much Nancy cared about Mike and his friends. They had spent many occasions babysitting them together. She remembered when Nancy had dressed up for their D&D game once. She had remembered it so vividly because she remembered the way Mike's eyes shined when his big sister, whom he looked up to, did that for him. Mike and Nancy were so different but also so alike in so many ways. Barb could see that Steve was starting to pick up on the fact that Nancy cared about these kids. She could see it in Steve's eyes: the admiration for the drive and the compassion that Nancy had. The fact that he could also see that she wasn't perfect either and that she tried to be. In that aspect, Nancy and Steve were alike. Barb couldn't help but watch Steve look at Nancy so fondly.
"Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked, and she glanced away for a moment.
"Skin, moles," Barb replied. "Lots of moles."
"Haha, hilarious," Steve said.
"You're good," Barb smiled.
Steve smiled and brushed his shoulder against hers, letting their fingers touch for a moment. They walked back into the gym and helped set up the tank. Barb sat down in between Steve and Nancy, watching as El was lowered down into the pool. Barb squeezed both of their hands as they awaited to see what El found. She hoped they found that little boy, and Barb chose to focus on that rather than the fact it could have been her in there as well. The lights flickered as El continued to search for the boy and even more so when she found him alive, but barely hanging on. It was a rush for Chief Hopper and Joyce to run off towards the lab to enter the gate through the Upside Down. Jonathan had tried to go with them, but Joyce had pleaded with them to stay.
Barb had wandered back into the gym to find the kids huddled up together on the bleachers. Barb smiled at the sight of El resting her head on Mike's shoulder while Lucas patted her back, making sure the towel was secure around her shoulders, while Dustin reached over to squeeze her knee. It looked like El was going to get to some great friends out of this and maybe even a family, too. Judging by the way that Hopper and Joyce had guided her, Barb had a feeling that they were somehow going to end up as El's parents. She wandered over to them.
"How are you guys holding up?" Barb asked.
"You are Barbara," El said.
"Yeah, but you can call me Barb," she replied.
"Barb," she said, and then she pointed at herself. "El."
"I know, it was pretty cool what you did back there. You did a very good thing even though you didn't have to," Barb said.
"I had to," El said.
"Nancy said the demogorgon almost came after you," Mike said.
"Well, I cut my hand, and I guess some of it dropped by the pool," Barb frowned. "It was drawn by that tiny drop. I'm just thankful it fell in the pool."
"And that you were hanging out with Steve and Nancy. What were you guys doing, anyway?" Mike asked.
"Oh, you know, speaking of Steve and Nancy. I, uh, I'm going to see what they're doing," Barb said, blushing. "I'll be back."
Bullet dodged. Hopefully, they'll forget that question when she gets back. She wandered towards the entrance of the gym, where she found Nancy talking with Jonathan and Steve.
"What did I miss?" Barb asked.
"Nancy wants to finish off the demogorgon," Steve replied.
"It needs to die. Even if we can't kill it, we can at least distract it so it doesn't go after Hopper and Joyce in the Upside Down," Nancy replied.
"Yeah, okay, but what about the kids? They can't stay here by themselves. Those assholes could come back for them at any time," Steve said.
"Well, it's Jonathan's house, so maybe I should go with Jonathan and Steve if you want to stay here with the kids. . .yeah, they definitely need someone looking out for them," Nancy said.
"And Steve will need help looking after the kids. I'll stay here," Barb said.
"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.
"About as sure as you are about killing this thing," Barb said.
"It came after you, Barbara, I'm not going to let it do it again," Nancy said.
Barb smiled and kissed her. Nancy smiled against her lips and wrapped her arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. Barb pulled her in closer, her hands gripping Nancy's waist. She tried not to cry and tried not to think that this might be their last kiss. They pulled away, and Nancy leaned her forehead against Barb's for a moment before pulling her out of her arms. They gave Steve the baseball bat and the box of nails with a hammer.
"We got more and another bat in the trunk. Go nuts," Jonathan said.
Steve grinned and nodded at him. Nancy moved in front of him.
"Be careful, look after each other," Nancy said.
"You, too," Steve said.
Nancy kissed him as desperately as she kissed Barb, and Steve nearly dropped the stuff in his arms. He managed to kiss her back. Nancy pulled away before climbing into the car with Jonathan. Barb stood next to Steve as they watched him drive away. Barb turned to him.
"It was really great that you were worried about the kids," Barb said.
"Well, they shouldn't have to go through this alone," Steve said.
Barb studied him. She imagined a young Steve home by himself, wondering when his parents would remember to call. . .wondering when they would decide to be there for him.
"No, they shouldn't," Barb said.
She took the stuff out of his arms and set them on the floor. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him just as deeply as she kissed Nancy. Steve pulled back and pressed his forehead against Barb's.
"She's going to be okay," Steve said.
"I know," Barb whispered.
"Oh my god! You guys really do share everything!" They heard Mike yell, and they both laughed.
Barb ushered Mike inside with the other kids. Steve immediately went to work hammering in the nails in the bat. The kids had crowded around Steve, watching him work. Steve held up the bat when he was finished.
"What do you think?" Steve asked.
"Awesome!" Lucas, Mike, and Dustin exclaimed.
"Yeah, awesome," El breathed.
Steve moved away from them, twirled the bat, and started practicing his swinging. He started doing all sorts of things with it. He dove, he dodged, and weaved as though he was fighting off an invisible force. The kids clapped and cheered when he rolled across the gym floor, jumping up to swing the bat like the demogorgon was there. Steve came to a stop, leaned on his bat, and winked at Barb. She rolled her eyes, smiling. He was clearly showing off for the kids.
"I'm not impressed," Barb teased. "You're such a dork."
"What? No, Barb! That was totally cool!" Lucas exclaimed.
"Don't you think Steve’s a douchebag?" Mike asked Lucas.
"Not anymore," Lucas said.
"Anyone could do that," Mike rolled his eyes.
"Bullshit, Mike! You couldn't do that!" Dustin exclaimed. "Just admit that it was cool. He's a total paladin."
"Okay, I'd admit that it was cool, but I'm not going to call him a paladin," Mike said.
"You guys are hilarious," Steve said. "Definitely a lot cooler than I am."
The kids ended up dragging Steve and Barb into the cafeteria to pilfer the pudding the lunch lady had been hoarding.
"You're not going to tell on us?" Dustin asked Barb.
"Why would I?" Barb asked as she swiped a pudding cup. "If we're going to die, might as well die with pudding in our stomachs."
"That's the spirit," Dustin grinned. "I keep telling Mike you're the coolest babysitter ever. He's such a pessimist."
"Nancy can be a little pessimist herself," Barb smiled.
"Steve, if you really want to learn how to be a really cool babysitter, Barb knows," Dustin said and walked off.
"Did you hear that? You're a really cool babysitter," Steve said bumping her hip with his.
"You're not so bad yourself. You'll get there with a little help," Barb grinned.
They had only a moment of peace before the assholes from the lab found them. They dropped the pudding cups, and Barb led the kids down the hallway with Steve behind them all. She had her knives out, prepared to stab anyone in case they decided to come after the kids. Steve had his trusty bat in his hands. They got as far as they could, but the bad men had them covered on either side of the hallway. They had guns. Barb and Steve stood on either side of the kids, back to back practically. A woman moved forward and Barb didn't hestitate to take a slice off that bitch. The woman didn't hesitate to pistol whip Barb, knocking her glasses off of her face.
"Barb!" Steve hollered.
El moved forward, focusing on the agents, and the lights flickered over head. Blood trickled from El's nose at the same time that blood started pouring the bad mens' eyes, noses, and mouths. Their necks snapped at the same time, and they fell to the ground in unison. Head still ringing, Barb quickly picked up her glasses and put them back on her face as El collapsed.
"El!" Barb exclaimed and moved to her side.
That's when he showed up. A man with white hair who was tall and very forboding. A chill shot down Barb's back at the sight of him. He was just as terrifying as the demogorgon. Steve rushed to Barb's side but was grabbed and held by an agent at the same time that Barb was grabbed by another one. They fought hard against their grips as they took Barb's knives and held Steve's bat. Barb noted with a smile that one of their leg's was bleeding heavily. Steve had gotten one of them with the bat. The white-haired man approached El and cradled her in his arms.
"Papa," El muttered.
"Let her go, you son of a bitch! She's not your property. She's a human being, and she doesn't deserve to be treated ~," Barb started to say but was pistol whipped again.
"Don't you fucking hurt her!" Steve yelled and he was given the same treatment.
Barb could feel blood drip down from her forehead as Steve spat blood from his mouth. She yelled and yanked her head backward, butting the person in the face with it. He yelled, letting go of one of her arms, and she elbowed him in the stomach, making him let go of her other arm. She pulled the knives out of his belt and thrust it into his neck. He dropped to the ground just as another agent tried to grab for her but he froze when they all heard a loud growling sound. The agents let the kids and Steve go to pull out their guns. The white haired guy dropped El as the demogorgon appeared.
"Oh, shit," Steve yelled and grabbed his bat. "RUN!"
Steve hit the strange man in the leg and picked up El before he could, handing off the bat to Barb, who took it gladly. The kids took off ahead of them, and they ran into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind them to hide. Barb stood protectively in front of the kids and Steve as the demogorgon caught up with them. El wiggled out of Steve's arms and moved towards the monster, Mike screaming her name. She held out her hand and pushed the monster back with her powers, slamming it into the chalkboard. They watched as El destroyed the monster along with herself, nothing left behind but dark ash. Mike stood there, stunned as he looked at the disfigured chalkboard.
"Mike," Barb said softly as she stood up.
Mike threw himself into her arms, crying. El was dead, but so was the monster. Barb held Mike tightly, pressing her cheek into his hair as his entire body shook with sobs. Steve tentively walked up beside her, Dustin curled up against his side, and he placed a hand on Mike's shoulder. Lucas patted Mike on the back, sniffling as well.
"Physically. . . is everyone okay?" Steve asked.
"Better than you and Barb," Lucas said.
They moved through the school, making their way past the dead, bloody bodies, and out into the fresh air. Barb held Mike to her side, gripping Steve's bat in her hand. They weren't sure who had called them, but the ambulances and the cops had shown up pretty quickly. It wasn't long before their parents had shown up. . .well, everyone except Steve's.
"Barbara!" her mother shrieked. "Oh, look at you!"
Her parents hugged her tightly as Mike's parents did the same with him. Barb couldn't explain to her parents what had happened. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to explain anything except for the fact that Steve had helped save their lives.
"Barb! Where's Nancy?!" Karen asked and she snapped out of it.
"Jonathan's house," Barb replied.
"Dusty!" she could recognize Claudia Henderson's shriek from anywhere and then: "Steve!"
To Steve's surprise, Claudia had pulled him into a hug along with Dustin. Barb smirked. It looked like Steve was going to have a family that he always secretly wished he had. Barb frowned. That should be El, too, with Hopper and the Byers. . .did they find Will?
LATER. . .IN THE HOSPITAL. . .
Barb and the others met everyone there, including Nancy. Barb had pulled Nancy into a hug along with Steve while Jonathan stood off to the side.
"Hey! You, too! You're not getting out of this," Steve said to Jonathan.
"Me?" Jonathan asked.
Barb laughed as Steve rolled his eyes before pulling Jonathan into the group hug. Joyce laughed at the look on her son's face.
"The doctors are looking over Will now. It's probably going to be a while, so if you guys want to go home. . ." Joyce said.
"Nonsense, Joyce," Karen said. "We'll be here as long as you need us."
Nancy quickly pulled Steve, Jonathan, and Barb off to the side.
"Barb. . .your eye and forehead. . ." Nancy whispered.
"Oh, I totally killed that guy," Barb said.
"Yeah, no, she really killed him," Steve said, nodding at the look on Nancy's face.
"In other news, Mom's letting me keep her knives," Barb said.
"You totally pull them off," Steve muttered.
"And so, El is for sure. . ." Nancy trailed off.
"Yeah," Barb said, glancing at Mike. "It was awful."
"Poor Mike, she was the first girl he liked, I can't imagine watching that," Nancy said.
"He's going to need a lot of help," Steve said.
"Yeah," Jonathan said as they all looked at the kids. "We all are. . .uh, if you don't mind, I'm going to wait with my mom."
"Well, we'll be here," Barb said.
"Does this - does this mean we're friends?" Jonathan asked.
Barb studied him for a moment. She could see it in his eyes, how desperately he was trying to hide the hope he was feeling.
"Yeah, it does," Barb said.
"All of us," Steve said.
"We're still expecting that essay," Nancy said, her eyes twinkling.
"Whenever you're ready," Barb said.
Jonathan walked over to his mother and sat down next to her, holding her hand. Barb, Nancy, and Steve sat in the corner of the waiting room near Nancy's parents. Nancy and Barb leaned as close to Steve as possible, discreetly brushing their pinkies up against Steve’s. Barb glanced over at Nancy, who was resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. It's crazy how things changed. . . It was crazy how that image would have annoyed her, but now all it did was give her warm fuzzy feelings in her stomach. . .
SUMMER OF '84
Barb was sprawled out in Jonathan's room, Steve between her legs with his back to her chest, and his head tucked underneath her head. Nancy was holding his hand while Barb stroked his nose with her finger. It was a complete accident that they discovered that you could calm Steve Harrington down if you just stroked his nose. It also helped to look at the blanket that hung on Jonathan's wall. Something to do with the colors. Steve was peculiar, as it turns out, like they were. Jonathan walked into the room and handed him a glass of water.
"You know, my mom did these breathing exercises when she was giving birth to Will, if you need help with your own delivery," Jonathan said in amusement.
"Shut up, Byers," Steve said as he took a drink of water.
"With your legs spred like that, it does look like you're giving birth," Barb said with a giggle.
"Nancy, tell our girlfriend that she's supposed to be helping me," Steve said.
"Sorry," Nancy said.
"Some friends you are," Steve said and smiled. "I don't even know why I'm freaking out. My parents are getting divorced so, what?! I mean, this is what I wanted, right?"
"Well, change can be scary even if it's what you wanted," Nancy said. "I mean, you must have been scared when you finally dumped Tommy and Carol."
"That's true," Jonathan said. "I mean, even though I wanted Lonnie gone and out of the house, it wasn't like he was totally useless. He did bring some things to the table, and it was scary that we were being left with this vaccum that we didn't know how to fill. We did manage to find a way to work around it, though."
"I just don't want what I have now to disappear, you know. I want to keep living with Claudia and Dustin," Steve said.
"Does your mom seem like the kind of person to take you away from them?" Nancy asked.
"No, in fact, she likes coming over now, and it's totally weird having her around all the time," Steve said. "And I guess I just don't want to get my hopes up that she'll stay."
"Well, it's not crazy to worry about that either," Nancy said. "I'm sure it's an adjustment."
"I'm sure it's going to work out and if your mom does try to take you away, we'll just kidnap you and bring you back," Barb said.
"Aw, you'll break the law for me?" Steve said.
"I think all of us would," Nancy said.
"Tommy and Carol never would have broken the law for me," Steve said.
"Their loss is our gain," Barb said.
Barb actually liked him like this, just utterly and completely melting into their arms. No one but them knew what Steve Harrington was really like, not even Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. Steve wanted to be soft and small. He never really wanted the attention. He just didn't want to be alone. Jonathan was similar, but he had pushed people away rather than surround himself by the wrong people. He had his graded essay hung up on the wall to remind himself what kind of person, of what kind of photogropher that he wanted to be along with pictures of his new friends.
"I guess I don't have anything to worry about," Steve said. "Thanks for letting me freak out. Tommy would have just told me to stop being a crybaby."
"You really like reminding us that we're better for you than Tommy and Carol, huh?" Nancy teased.
"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "You all are."
"Well, you've been there enough of all of our freak outs," Jonathan said. "We've promised to be there for each other so. . .we're here."
"Oh, speaking of my mother coming over all the time," Steve said. "She's also been talking to Claudia a lot."
"Well, we figured," Nancy said. "So, what did Claudia say to make Maggie realize she should have probably divorced that jackass a long time ago?"
"Maybe it was Claudia," Barb said. "Or maybe it was the fact that she had come home and realized that her son had moved out?"
"Maybe it was both," Steve said. "Anyway, Dustin told me that he saw something the other night that made him think that there might be something between my mom and his."
"Oh, that would be perfect," Nancy gasped. "You both would get two wonderful mothers, and maybe your mom would move in there!"
"It would be great, wouldn't it?" Steve asked.
"So, what was it that Dustin saw exactly?" Barb asked as she wrapped her arms around Steve.
"Well, he said it was the way they looked at each other," Steve said. "I think he just wants to have two mothers."
"And to keep his favorite brother around," Barb said.
"Maybe," Steve grinned. "So, right before school ended, I overheard a couple of jocks whispering about Eddie Munson. Apparently, it's a possibility that Higgins blackmailed Munson into dropping out, and that's why the jocks have been out for him as well as Hellfire."
"Well, apparently, he failed because Eddie's coming back next year," Jonathan said.
"Really?" Nancy asked. "And how do you know that?"
"I just know," Jonathan blushed.
"It has nothing to do with the weed that fell out of your bag earlier?" Steve asked.
"Okay, so maybe Eddie's been selling me weed, and we've been talking," Jonathan said.
"So, you're friends?" Nancy asked.
"He defended my brother against some mouthbreathers and took a baseball that was meant for him," Jonathan said, his face turning a deeper red.
"Oh, so, you want to be more than friends," Barb teased.
"I mean, maybe, he is cute," Jonathan said.
"And it definitely doesn't hurt that he stuck up for your brother," Steve said.
"It's a huge plus," he said.
"Well, it sounds like Higgins has it out for your boyfriend," Steve said.
"We should definitely do something about that," Nancy said.
"Ooh, does this sound like a case for the monster hunting squad?" Barb asked.
"Ooh, I love Nancy Drew," Steve said. "It's perfect. Jonathan and Nancy are already on the paper. Maybe we should join, too, Barb?"
"And what would you do on the paper?" Barb teased.
"Hey, I could learn to be a sports writer," Steve said.
"That's true," Barb said thoughtfully.
"That could work," Nancy said. "Especially, when you start asking questions in the locker room."
Nancy got up and grabbed a journal off of Jonathan's desk. She plopped down in between Steve's leg and leaned against his chest.
"Alright. . .let's get to work, we have a mystery to solve. . ."
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I feel like I gotta let you talk about why you like Vegas now bc I had so little to say!
Vegas belongs to the list of fictional men I would never introduce to someone new. Like, if they get him, it's well and good, and if they don't, that too is fine. So Shan, I get having very little to say about Vegas.
I also understand not being that into Kinnporsche. Other than the fact that it was beautifully shot, my only reasons for sticking around (initially) were my beloved Tankhun and the rivalry between Kinn and Vegas. Kinnporsche, for all its faults as a series, not having a coherent plot being one of them 🤷, gave us very interesting characters and inter-personal dynamics.
How I feel about this character
I love him. Don't get me wrong, he is not a good person, nor does he pretend to be one. He is not a reformed person who will only do good deeds post-canon.
My (not so healthy) reasons for liking Vegas boil down to
His self-loathing tendencies
His filial piety towards his father, however undeserved it might be
His competence at being the head of a mafia family
Thinking about post-canon Vegas is so interesting because everything he thought he wanted out of his life is gone—his father is dead, Porsche is now the head of the minor family, and he has Pete, a romantic partner in ways he never imagined he could/would.
So, his character arc isn't complete; he has to figure out who he is as a person outside of his rivalry with Kinn.
All the people I ship romantically with this character
Only Pete!! I couldn't subject anyone else to be on the receiving end of my little manipulator's romantic affections, lol.
And people say that romance is dead!!! One of my reasons for shipping them together is the evitability of their relationship. It didn't happen because someone was pulling the strings behind a curtain or because one person had an agenda while pursuing the other. It's about seeing yourself in the other person and understanding them. In short, they match each other's freaks.
My non-romantic OTP for this character
Let's be honest, all of us wondered where Vegas and Porsche would go after the bike ride scene.
Love Vegas and Macau's relationship. There is a lot of love there and an instinct to protect him from their father's abuse. Love me a good protective older sibling ❤️
My unpopular opinion about this character
I wasn't active on this site when the show was airing, so I don't know if these are unpopular opinions. But, I do see a lot of fics depicting Kinn and Vegas as being almost friendly towards each other post-canon, and I'm like, how? I don't know; I just can't see that happening in a million years. Also, Vegas as a father? I know that this happens in the books, which I haven't read and never plan on reading. He has a long way to go before even thinking about fatherhood, and I don't believe he is someone who aspires to be one. So, yeah, I can't reconcile the image of Vegas as a father with the Vegas in my head.
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.
I wish we got to see him wearing more red, because he is a fucking vision.
I also wish we got more of Tankhun and Vegas. I could see them fighting over Pete a lot. Also, hours of footage of him just cooking, for my indulgence.
Give me a character ask game
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