#when i say this lit a fire under the ass of so many authors in the steddie bb server today i mean it everyone was yelling

[stardust-walker]

Steve dies for not very long in the final battle with vecna. He gets resuscitated but he has a near-death experience and "wakes up" in this big beautiful field and he thinks it's empty. he KNOWS hes dead but he looks over and sees eddie and chrissy sitting by this stream. and they both just look up at him and eddie sprints over and starts yelling about how it's not his time yet and he has to go back but steve is so confused and eddie just does something like says he'll wait for him and shoves him back just as his heart starts again

[shy-writer-999]

Ace gets riled up when you wear skirts

WARNING: MINORS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.

Author's note: Smut - fingering that leads to fucking. ~2.3k words. Ace fingers (afab) reader from behind and then they have sex. Pet names. (o˘◡˘o) (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ I hope you like it!!

Ace gets riled up when you wear skirts

“Hey gorgeous.” Ace leaned down from behind where you were sitting and hummed in your ear. His voice melted like honey and went straight to your heart. You were sitting on the couch scrolling on your phone, relaxing while you had a few free moments.

You smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss… but that wasn’t enough right now. Ace needed more than that. Seeing you sit so cutely on the couch, with your skirt thrown over your thighs, your pretty fingers scrolling through your phone… it awoke something in him.

Your presence could flip the switch in Ace’s mind immediately—he’d go from sweet and smiling to desperate for a crumb of your pleasure. You never knew what you were going to get with him, but recently it had been the latter. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you. Every spare moment Ace would pull you into a bathroom and bend you over, pull you into a closet and fuck you standing up, drag you up to the crow’s nest and demand reverse cowgirl in the open air... Skirts made his fantasies more forceful. You could say he had something of a skirt kink, or at least, seeing you in a skirt sent him over the edge. He would imagine pulling the skirt up around your waist and gripping it tight while he fucked you, using it for leverage. He would imagine flipping the skirt over so your ass was exposed to the bare air, pulling the skirt back and spanking your ass so hard it bruised. He would imagine fingering you under the skirt when no one was looking... he had any number of fantasies at one time about you in a skirt.

That's why the sight of you sitting on the couch in your skirt lit a fire in Ace’s core, one that he wouldn’t be able to shake until he had his fill of you.

Ace leaned over you from behind and kissed the top of your head. Surprisingly, he then wrapped his left hand lightly around your throat. You let out a yelp in response. “Ace, what are you doing?”

“I want you.” He rasped in your ear and his free hand crept down the couch, over your chest and stomach to rest on your crotch. His hand lingered on top of the fabric of your skirt. No matter how many times you and Ace were intimate, his closeness made your stomach twist with butterflies. His arms were toned, defined, hard, manly, and his hands, much the same. His thick fingers rested softly on your skirt, sending bolts of electricity straight to your core. His honeyed voice put you at ease, but you could hear the desire and need plainly when he spoke.

Ace palmed your crotch and grinded down through your skirt firmly. You whined and squirmed a bit as friction built on your clit. “Ace, everyone will see.”

“No they won’t, I promise,” Ace whispered sweetly back in your ear. His voice was dripping with desire, sugar-coated, but underlined with a note of desperation. You knew he was about to fuck you senseless.

“Okay, if you say so…” You agreed tentatively, trailing off.

“Put those legs up, honey.” He commanded you charmingly, and you lifted your legs up, propping them on the couch so they were spread wide and your knees were pulled up by your chest.

“Let’s get this out of the way,” Ace murmured in your ear again and picked up the hem of your skirt, pulling it back, exposing your panties. He shifted your skirt up, so it pooled around your waist. You felt exposed and embarrassed, blushing from head to toe. Seeing you in this position, spread open for him, skirt pulled askew, panties uncovered... Ace felt feral.

When he had adjusted your skirt, his fingers came back to rest on your clit over your panties. He tightened the grip on your neck ever so slightly, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. He was so sweet and yet he could be so rough on you—he’d do the nastiest things to you, all while calling you lovely names and petting your head. You loved how he doted on you and how he was obsessed with you—for Ace, it translated into a desire to make you feel good. He wanted you to be in ecstasy from his touch, wanted you to transcend to new levels of pleasure that you never knew, all because of him. Whenever your face twisted in pleasure it made him as hard as a rock, his cock pulsing in his shorts, pressing on his briefs trying to escape.

Your gasping as he tightened his grip was one of those moments. Even the most muted of sounds of pleasure coming from you made Ace feel like he was one step away from either cumming in his pants or ripping all your clothes off and fucking you. He had to use discipline though, to not get too worked up. Your pleasure was his first priority, of course.

Ace slowly started to rub his fingers in circles around your clit. The fabric of your panties rubbed roughly on your sensitive spot, his fingers dragging the material up and down through your lips. Your wetness started to seep out and saturate the fabric, helping his fingers glide over and work through the barrier to your bare pussy with ease.

“Getting excited already?” He purred into your ear and your stomach twisted again. You were, in fact, getting excited already. Your heartbeat was starting to raise, you were hyperaware of his every move, and you were braced for the pleasure you knew he was going to wrench from your core.

Ace’s fingers trailed upwards, and hooked your panties down. Meanwhile his left hand gave your throat one last squeeze and then wandered to your chest, massaging and kneading your breasts.

At the same time, Ace started kissing your neck, sucking on it lightly, then nibbling on it. You felt electric. He was everywhere at once—on your chest, on your neck, rumbling in your ears, you could smell his shampoo, feel the warmth from his skin as bent over the back of the couch to touch you. His fingers crept into your panties and started toying with your sensitive folds that were becoming increasingly inflamed and red. Wetness oozed out of you, and Ace noticed as he leisurely passed his fingers up, over your clit, pausing and pressing there for a moment, then returning back to dance around your opening.

“Are you ready, princess?” He asked, and when you nodded timidly he inserted his middle finger, slowly pushing it into you as you shuddered around him. It felt amazing because he knew your body so well. Making you feel good was an art form to him. He spoke the language of your pleasure, knew your body inside and out, adjusted his movements to the neediness of your moans and gasps, played with you until you got to the precipice of climax.

As one finger ventured inside you, he could feel your walls constrict. You let out another sweet moan and Ace started to go feral; he could feel himself losing control. He sucked on your neck harshly, squeezed your breasts so hard it hurt, and started to move the finger inside of you up and down, inside and out.

He was reading your pleasure, calculating how to make you feel the best. His finger felt the ridges of your insides, the smooth slipperiness of your slick, your spasms of pleasure; he noticed when your thighs tensed up, when your breaths got shallower and quicker, and when your gasps got even the tiniest bit more needy.

When he saw it appropriate, Ace inserted his ring finger, drawing another groan from your lips. His fingers opened and closed like scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him, getting you ready. He curled his fingers and immediately located your sweet spot. Ace wasted no time pressing, pushing, circling, and bullying your g-spot until your wetness dripped out of your pussy, coating his fingers and hand, seeping down onto the couch and leaving a mess.

“Mmmmm,” Ace hummed as his fingers worked. “Does that feel good?”

Of course it did. Your legs were already trembling. He knew how to bring you to the brink of orgasm in minutes and had no trouble touching you until you were begging for more. His fingers felt magical.

“Ace,” you choked out. “Need you in me—please.”

“I’m sure you do, baby.” He sucked on your neck one more time and pulled his fingers out of you, soaked and slippery.

“Open up, pretty.” Ace politely waited a moment and then shoved his fingers unceremoniously into your mouth, making you suck your own slick off of him. He was so unbelievably turned on. His erection was painfully tight; he needed friction, wanted to fuck you so bad, to cum in you, cum on you, make you feel so good. Ace needed you carnally, beyond imagination—he wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t speak anymore, until you couldn’t walk straight, he wanted to make you beg and moan until your voice went hoarse, he wanted to make you orgasm again and again and again.

When you had sucked his fingers dry, the sweet taste of yourself lingered in your mouth. Ace grabbed your face with his hand pulled it close to him, smashing his lips into yours. You let out a muffled moan as your lips met and Ace felt his dick twinge. He pulled out of the kiss after a minute and rounded the couch so he was now facing you.

He leaned down to grab ahold of your hips. “C’mere.”

Ace picked you up swiftly and effortlessly. It was amazing how strong he was and how much he liked to throw you around like a doll. He treated you delicately, but at the same time he would fuck you hard and carelessly. The dichotomy was perfect for you two—vicious and loving, naughty and nice, both options present at any given time and just as welcomed as the other.

Ace lifted you up and your legs wrapped around him on instinct. The skirt draped unevenly across your ass and bunched up in front of you. The messy look turned Ace on arduously. His strong hands were cupping your ass, and he lined up his cock with your dripping wet cunt. He was losing patience. He needed to be in you immediately, needed to fuck you as soon as possible.

“Ready sweetie?” He looked at your face and saw that it was already contorted in pleasure. He couldn’t wait to fuck you so hard you drooled. He couldn’t wait to hear you moan his name on repeat. He needed to be inside of you now.

You nodded in response, desperate for him.

He wasted no time. Ace pushed the tip of his huge cock into you slowly. It passed through your folds, slippery and red, filling you up centimeters at a time. It was an overwhelming feeling, so sensual and satisfying. You adjusted to his girth and length with each second, constricting around his cock, your body remembering the shape of it. When he bottomed out, he let out a low and long groan. “Fuuuuck, baby.”

Ace started bouncing you on his cock, languidly, steady, and deliberate at first. He wanted to tease you, wanted to see you writhe from it, wanted you to want him so bad you begged. Ace was in control now, just as he liked it. And you were along for the ride, which you knew would end in an orgasm so powerful that you would lose your mind.

As you took his cock, nasty, wet, and sloppy sounds started echoing in the room. The sound of his balls slapping onto your wet ass and pussy rang in your ears. He grunted, rumbled in pleasure, and you could feel it in his chest. Your tits were pressed on him, hands clasped behind his neck, legs wrapped around him, toes curling in pleasure. He had you right where he wanted you, and now he was going to ravage your body like a last meal.

Ace sped up his fucking at a measured pace. He started bouncing you quicker, deeper, thrusting his cock up into you as he bounced you. He was bullying your g-spot, you could feel his dick curve inside of you, painting your walls with precum, gliding in and out, leaving pleasure in its wake. He was stretching you and fucking you into oblivion already. Wetness seeped out of you, down onto his shaft, over his balls, dripping on the floor.

His measured pace was driving you crazy. It wasn’t merely enough. “Accceeeee,” you moaned out. “Harder.”

He complied. His cock hit deep and hard, fucking you senseless. Pleasure hit your g-spot spot in waves. His pace was becoming frenzied, unpredictable, driven on instinct alone.

“Do—you—like—that, princess?” Ace groaned, taking a breath between each furious thrust, pistoning up into your red and inflamed pussy. His cock needed more.

“More,” you meweled out in response. Your words sent his body into overdrive. His grip on your ass bruised, his grunts so loud they overpowered the sloppy wet sounds of him fucking you. His hips bucked and jerked up into you, dragging his cock everywhere inside of you, hitting your g-spot, brushing your cervix, sending pleasure to every nerve ending. You never felt so full before.

“Cum for me,” Ace groaned out, hips bucking, thighs shaking.

As he fucked you closer to orgasm his brow wrinkled and his head was thrown back. All he could focus on was how your body felt, what it needed, and how he could make you feel even better. He was assessing how each muscle moved, how you shifted and sighed into him, how wet you got every time he called you a sweet name. He could tell you were getting closer.

Ace lowered you onto your back on the couch, making sure his cock stayed buried inside of you. He pushed your knees up and held onto you, positioning you into a mating press. You looked up at him and your face was depraved, hungry for his cock, you locked eyes with him. The fucked-out look on your face drove him even crazier.

He was so gorgeous it took your breath away. He was sweaty, his black hair slightly ruffled and damp around the temples, his brows furrowed with focus and pleasure, his freckles just as sweet as ever. His nose crinkled a bit every time he thrusted or called you something sweet. And while he was undeniably fucking you senseless, roughly, and fiercely, his eyes still retained all the love he had for you.

Ace rolled his hips into your cunt, rutting his cock against your walls from a different angle this time. He could get deeper, harder, rougher now that he had the support of the couch under him. He grabbed your hips and pressed into you with such force it took your breath away. This was the deepest he had ever been.

“’M so close baby,” he rasped out and you whined in response.

“Me too,” you were breathless. He was making you feel so good it felt like you were melting. You were starting to lose touch with reality—he was the only thing on your mind, and you were completely present. You forgot about everything else in the world when Ace was fucking you.

“Wanna see you cum on my cock,” he grunted desperately as he thrusted into you again.

You whined as his hips crashed haphazardly into you. You finally started to reach your limit. With one more furious drag of his cock inside of you, Ace pushed you over the edge of climax and waves of pleasure washed over you, mindblowingly ecstatic. Your body convulsed. You pulled him closer to you, moaning his name as your pussy clenched on his dick and you creamed on his cock. The pleasure he brought you with each orgasm was other-worldly. You never knew such a thing was possible until you met him, and every day that you spent near him you craved it more and more.

Ace could feel your walls pulsing and shuttering around his girth with your orgasm, and your pleasure drove him crazy. As you moaned his name again and again, Ace watched your face curl into an expression of bliss. You were doing precisely what he wanted—orgasming so hard and so sweetly that you felt like you left reality. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your panting drove him further into ferociously fucking you through your orgasm.

“’M cumming—” he groaned out, thrusting into you fitfully for one final moment, just barely overstimulating your sensitive insides. You shuddered and he groaned again, deeply and needily in response as he went over the edge. He shot sticky white ropes inside of you, so much that it started trickling out of you, a milky pool at the base of his cock. His orgasm was just as euphoric as yours. After teasing himself and holding out for so long, when he let himself fuck you without regard for anything else he allowed himself to dissolve into pleasure completely. He felt like he was floating each time your velvet walls squeezed him, felt like he was going to levitate every time you moaned his name. Cumming so hard from your pleasure left him in the purest euphoria.

You went limp and Ace collapsed on your chest. After a moment of silence, after feeling the warmth and sweat of your bodies pressing on each other, Ace looked up at you. His cock was still inside.

“Fuck,” he panted out. You hummed in response, and he pulled you in for a clumsy kiss. He could feel your walls still shuddering from orgasm just slightly, returning back to normal, still accommodating his girth, leaking a mix of both of your cum from your pussy.

“That was so good, baby,” he said at the same time as pressing his lips onto yours, speaking into your mouth as your lips met. His tongue ventured into your mouth, barely swirling your own, as he sucked slightly and bit your lip. You let out one more moan for him, as you felt his cock twinge one last time.

He pulled out of the kiss at the same time as pulling out of you. You’d never get used to the feeling of emptiness after Ace had just filled you up and fucked you into oblivion. You pulled him into one last long kiss, staving off the moment when you would have to disentangle your bodies and put your clothes back on.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, pretty girl.” Ace kissed your forehead again and scooped you up in his arms. He would deal with the noticeable stain on the couch later.

♡(>ᴗ•) (￣ω￣;) (っಠ‿ಠ)っ

That is all for now, I hope you liked it!! Thank u so much for reading and if you got this far i appreciate you so much (//▽//)

here's my masterlist if ur interested!

-- Z

[nikimisery]

Season 1 Episode 3 - Dead in the Water

One thing I had learned in the days following the end of the wendigo hunt in Colorado, was that Dean Winchester was not shy about his love of women. He would constantly make comments about the women we saw on a daily basis, to Sam, but I will never forget his face the first time I pointed out one of my own. We had pulled into a local shopping mall. I know, Dean Winchester in a shopping mall. Dude was awkward as hell. ‘Who needs this many stores for the same article of clothing, Freya.’ But Sam and I were in agreement that I needed to get some clothes that were mine, and not torn to shit from years of wear and tear. We had just sat down at a table in the food court to eat some lunch when she walked by. Beautiful, long black hair, creamy skin, curvy in ALL the right places.

             “Holy Shit…” I trailed off as I smacked Sam on the arm. I remember I had a hard time taking my eyes off her ass, (sorry beautiful lady, but it’s true!) and I had made a comment to Sam about how I would love to spend some time getting to know that one. Dean had been taking a drink of his soda and nearly choked. “Are you okay?” I asked him.

             “What did you just say?” His face was beat red at this point and Sam was cackling in the background. When I repeated myself, Dean’s eyes lit up like the fourth of July, I swear he had never looked so excited. This boy and his love of women. But the one thing I did notice was the women his eyes lingered on were women I couldn’t compete with. Could I be okay with that?

             I was brought back to the present by Dean marking up the newspaper obituaries, searching for our next case. When he brought that pen to his lips, man I have never been more jealous of an inanimate object in my entire life.

             “Can I get you anything else?” Our waitress asked us. Wendy. Blonde. Beautiful.

             “Where did you get your top?” I asked her, biting my lip and tilting my head, as Dean just looked up and grinned, still chewing on that damn pen. But Sam interrupted before she could answer me.

             “Just the check, please.”

             “Okay.” Wendy responded, winking at me before she walked away. I turned my glare on Sam at that point and I could hear Dean’s head hitting the table beside me.

             “Dude.” Was all I said to him.

             “You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” Dean finished for me, pointing at the waitress walking away towards the front counter of the diner. 

“That’s like… so much fun.” I cut in, finishing Dean’s statement. Sam decided not to reply, just kept staring right back at us.

             “Fuckin buzzkill.” I said. Dean’s hand found my knee under the table, giving it a quick squeeze, before handing the newspaper over to Sam.

             “Here, take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

             “A funeral?”

             “Yeah, it’s weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever.” Dean said.

             “Closure? What closure? People don’t just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.” Ohhhhhhhhhh shots fired.

             “Something you want to say to me?” Dean fired back.

             “The trail for Dad. It’s getting colder every day.”

             “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?” He asked Sam, glancing at me then back at Sam.

             “I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

             “You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” I could smell the frustration and anger coming off Dean at this point and I wanted nothing but to comfort him, but what could I do?

         “Yeah, I know you do, it’s just –“ Sam started.

         “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?” I reached under the table and placed my hand on his leg, right above his knee. He let out a sigh, glancing at me with a nod, but said nothing more. Wendy, our cute waitress, decided to walk by our table at that moment, both Dean and I turning to watch her walk away.

         “All right, Lake Manitoc.” Sam started. I could practically hear the eye roll. “Hey.”

         “Huh?” Dean responded.

         “How far?” Sam asked, as we all got up from the table. Dean placed some money down on the table, glancing back at Wendy one more time before placing his hand on my back, guiding me out to the Impala.

         “Hey, Dean. You got any Scorpions in that collection?” I asked.

         “Who do you think I am?” He asked, grabbing a cassette and popping it in. Love at First Sting, my favorite album from the band started playing. ‘Bad Boys Running Wild’ was the name of the song.

“Out in the streets

The dogs are on the run

The cats are all in heat

Out in the streets

Snakes are all around you

Dirty rats are on their way

They control you and they'll make you play”

         “You let her pick the music?” Sam asked, epic bitch face in play.

         “She has good taste in music, Sammy!” Dean responded as I sat up, sticking my tongue out at Sam and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek. Settling back, I sang to the music as we drove down the road, ready to get a start on our new case.

Round and Round by Ratt started to play as soon as we pulled into town. We had discussed earlier in the day that we would stop at the Carlton house before we went anywhere else, so that’s where we were headed. Pulling up to the house, Dean put it in park, then started digging in the glove box.

         “Got you a present, dollface.” He said, turning around to me. He handed me a badge with my face on it.

         “Agent Fisher, huh?” I asked, glancing at the badges he was holding for him and Sam. “The Force is strong with this one, huh?” I said to Sam, taking the badge and sliding it into my jacket pocket. I had opted for a white tank with a red and blue, fitted flannel on top, skinny jeans and a pair of biker boots with a matching black leather jacket. I felt good about myself, for once. Dean opened my door for me as I stepped out, pulling my sunglasses off and setting them on top of my head as I walked up to the front door. Dean knocked on the door as I was looking around. Lots of trees. A lake not too far away from the house, which must be the lake she drowned in.

         “Will Carlton?” Dean’s voice pulled me back to the door in front of me.

         “Yeah, that’s right.”

         “I’m Agent Ford. This is Agents Hamill and Fisher.” How the hell he doesn’t get caught with these names is beyond me. “We’re with the US Wildlife Service.” He finished as he held up his ID. Will let us in the house, leading us around to where his father sat around the back of the house.

         “She was about a hundred yards out.” Will relayed to us. “That’s where she got dragged down.”

         “And you’re sure she didn’t just drown?” Dean asked.

         “Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

         “So no splashing?” Sam jumped in. “No signs of distress?”

         “No, that’s what I’m telling you.”

         “Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” It was my turn to ask.

         “No. Again, she was really far out there.”

         “You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean cuts in.

         “No, never. Why? Why, what do you think’s out there?” Will asks.

         “We’ll let you know as soon as we do.” Dean said, turning to leave.

         “What about your father?” Sam asked Will, causing Dean to come to a stop beside me, turning back to look at Will.  “Can we talk to him?”

         Will just turned to look back at his father before answering us.

         “Look, if you don’t mind, I mean… he didn’t see anything and he’s kind of been through a lot.”

         “We understand.” I replied, as I grabbed Dean by the wrist to pull him along. We were making our way back out to the Impala when I heard it.

         “Hello.” Was all it said. I stopped in my tracks, looking around me, trying to find the source of the voice. My hand on Dean’s wrist tightened enough to catch his attention.

         “Hey, sweetheart, you good?” He asked me. When I didn’t answer him, he turned his wrist, grabbing mine. “Freya.”

         “I’m sorry.” I said, still looking around. “I thought I heard something.”

         “What did you think you heard?”

         “Someone said Hello.” I said quietly. “That’s weird, right? You didn’t hear it?”

         “No, doll, I didn’t hear anything.” He responded carefully, searching my face for something. What, I didn’t know.

         “I’m sorry. Let’s get to the police station.” I responded, sliding in the door he had opened for me a few seconds before.

         “I didn’t mean to startle you.” The voice came again. I glanced up at the boys, trying to figure out if they heard it, or if I was going crazy. “They can’t hear me, Freya, and you’re not going crazy. My name is Valkyrie. I’m a part of you.”

         “Good, cause that clears shit up.” I responded. Fuck. I’m talking to a voice in my head. That’s the literal definition of crazy.

         “You’ll understand who I am soon enough. Just know I’m here to help you, not hinder you. You or the two humans you are so fond of.” I bristled at that.

         “You hurt them…” I trailed off.    

     “I would sooner cut off my own arm. They are safe from me.” Valkyrie responded, then silence. The fuck just happened? Confusion clouded my thoughts. I had no idea what was happening to me or who that was, but there was an instinctual feeling, deep in my gut, that told me she wasn’t there to cause any harm, so for now, I let it go. We had a case to solve.

We had just made it to the police station. The Sheriff, Jake Devins, was talking to the boys, acting like I wasn’t even there… Annoying, but I guess it could be worse.

             “Now, I’m sorry, but what does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”

             “You sure it’s accidental?” I asked him, reminding him I was still very much there. He didn’t even spare me a glance, so Sam stepped in as Dean placed his hand on my back.

             “Down, girl.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Breathe.” How the fuck he knew I was about to reach over that desk and throttle this misogynistic dickhead of a sheriff, I will never know.

             “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam spoke.

             “Like what?” the Sheriff asked as we walked into his office. Pointing at the chairs in front of his desk, he spoke again. “Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake.” Sam took one chair and Dean guided me to sit in the other, electing to stand behind me with his hands on the back of my chair. “There’s nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.” The Sheriff continued. I couldn’t help it, I let out a snort at that, Dean pulling my hair lightly to get me to shut up.

    “Yeah.” Dean laughed. “Right.” Sam looked over at us at that point, his face saying everything he couldn’t. Shut up.

  “Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still –“ He trailed off, sitting down behind his desk. “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

  “That’s weird, though. I mean, that’s the third missing body this year.” Dean spoke up.

  “I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

  “I know.”

  “Anyway…” the Sheriff trailed off. “All this… it won’t be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, confusion lacing his tone.

  “The dam.” I spoke up. “It’s falling apart.” I looked up at him as I spoke.

  “Of course, the dam. It’s, uh, it sprung a leak.” He tried to cover up. Does this man read nothing?

  “She’s right. It’s falling apart, and the feds won’t give us the grant to repair it, so they’ve opened the spillway. In another six months, there won’t be much of a lake. There won’t be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” The Sheriff was eyeing us suspiciously at this point. But hey, at least he acknowledged my existence. 

  “Exactly.” Dean answered. A knock on the door drew our attention from the conversation.

  “Sorry, am I interrupting?” A beautiful young woman asked, stepping into the room. Sam and I stood up as she got closer.

  “Gentlemen, this is my daughter.” The Sheriff said. Guess I’m one of the boys now! Fucker.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean.” He said, extending his arm out to shake her hand.

  “Andrea Barr. Hi.” She said as she shook it.

  “Hi.” He smiled at her. Ohhhhh that motherfucker. I was plotting all the ways I could murder him and make it an accident when a small boy walked out from behind Andrea.

  “Oh, hey there!” I said to him, waving to him with a small smile on my face.

  “What’s your name?” Dean asked him, but he just walked away without speaking, Andrea following him.

  “His name is Lucas.” The Sheriff speaks up, watching his daughter hand Lucas a box of crayons.

  “Is he okay?” Sam asked

  “My grandson’s been through a lot. We all have.” He replied as he stood, walking to the door. “Well, if there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”

  “Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?” Dean asked as we all walked out of the office into the main room of the station.

  “Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It’s about two blocks south.” Andrea answered him.

  “Two – would you mind showing us?” Dean asked her, making her laugh.

  “You want me to walk you two blocks?” Ohhhhh sassy… I like her.

  “Not if it’s any trouble.”

  “I’m headed that way anyways.” She told him, turning to her dad. “I’ll be back to pick up Lucas as three.” She then turned to her son before she spoke again. “We’ll go to the park, okay, sweetie?” She kissed his head before motioning us to follow her out the door. I snuck a small wave in to the boy before the door closed behind us.

  “Thanks again.” Sam said. Andrea was leading us down the street when Dean spoke up.

  “So, cute kid.” It took everything in me not to laugh out loud at that, Sam nudged me, giggling to himself.

  “Thanks.” She said.

  “Kids are the best, huh?” I couldn’t help it, I let out a small giggle at that one, causing Dean to turn and glare at me, but there was no heat behind it. Andrea just glanced at him, ignoring him as she kept walking, coming to a stop in front of the motel.

  “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”

  “Thanks.” Sam said. She nodded at him before turning to address Dean.

  “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She said to him. I lost it, laughing, and turned to Sam.

  “I like her. Can we keep her?” I spoke up. She just winked at me before turning to leave, calling out over her shoulder.

  “Enjoy your stay!”

  “Kids are the best?” Sam said, making fun of his brother. “You don’t even like kids.”

  “I love kids!” Dean defended himself.

  “Name three children that you even know.” Sam and I just laughed, walking away as Dean quite literally scratched his head, trying to come up with an answer.

  “I’m thinking!” He called out after us.

  “Hey Sam, do you think I could have my own room this time?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not.” He replied before walking up to the front desk.

“The hell you need your own room for?” Dean asked, coming up behind me.

“A girl could use some privacy every now and then.” I snarked back at him.

  “Privacy, huh? What are you planning on doing with this privacy?” He asked, voice dropping low, quiet so no one could hear us. Goosebumps erupted across my skin at the sound, but I wasn’t about to let him know how much he affected me.

  “Who knows, maybe Andrea.” I threw at him, leaving him standing there with his mouth open, following Sam out the door to the car to get our bags. 

 I was sitting on Dean’s bed watching him go through his clothes. I think he was looking for one of his flannels, but he would never know it was currently in my bag, where I will wear it to bed tonight, because it is SO SOFT. Sam was clicking away on his laptop over at the table, working on the case.

             “Before we get to work on this case, can I talk to you guys?” I asked, hesitantly. Dean immediately stopped what he was doing to look up at me and Sam sat his laptop down on the table in front of him, giving me his full attention.

             “You okay?” Dean asked.

             “Yeah, I’m okay. At least, I think I’m okay…” I trailed off. “Something happened to me today outside of the Carlton’s house.” I started.

             “Yeah?” Dean prodded. “Wanna tell us what?”

             “What all does your dad’s journal say about me?” I asked him

             “You’re stalling. What happened.”

             “Does it say anything about hearing voices?”

             “Voices?” Dean responded, the look on his face didn’t help with my anxiety.

             “Never mind. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I responded, looking at the floor.

             “What, no…” Dean started, but he was cut off by Sam smacking him in the back of the head before he sat next to me on the bed.

             “What voices?” Sam asked softly, nudging me to get me to look up at him. I peeked up at him through the curtain of my hair, afraid of what I might find, but the look on his face was curious, gentle. No judgements to be found, so I glanced up at Dean, but all I found there was worry. No anger. They weren’t mad at me.

             “It just said hello, at first.” I began.

             “That’s what you were talking about?” Dean asked me, eyebrows furrowing together. Nodding, I continued.

             “After we got in the car, it spoke again. Just said that it didn’t mean to startle me and that her name was Valkyrie. She was a part of me. Said I would understand soon enough.” I told them. Looking at the floor again. I heard some shuffling as Sam’s arm came up around my shoulders, shoes coming into my view and stopping in front of me. Dean’s finger came up under my chin, prompting me to look up at where he now stood in front of me.

             “The voice, did it sound threatening?” He asked me.

             “No. She actually specifically said she wasn’t there to hurt me or the two of you.”

             “Did she scare you?”

             “No.”

             “There is still so much we don’t know about you. What you can do or what you are. There is still a lot of unknowns. My dad’s journal simply said to keep you safe, that you were special, and that there was going to be a few surprises coming our way. Before we freak out, let’s take a breath and see what happens, yeah?” Sam said from beside me. Tearing my eyes away from Dean, I looked over at Sam and nodded, trying so hard to keep the tears from my eyes. I felt the back of Dean’s finger brushing over my cheek before his hand fell away. Clearing my throat, I spoke up.

             “Fuck, I’m sorry. Okay, so what do we know?” I asked quickly, changing the subject. I felt better having told them, I didn’t want to keep anything from them. Dean especially, and I could tell they appreciated it.

             “So there’s the three drowning victims this year.” Sam started, walking back over to his laptop. Dean had gone back over to his bag, searching through it, before handing me a bandana, with a small smile. I guess I wasn’t so good at keeping those tears in as I had hoped. He didn’t call me out on it though, just turned his attention back to Sam.

             “Any before that?”

             “Uh, yeah.” Sam said, pulling up The Lake Manitoc Tribune. ‘DROWNING TAINTS ICE FISHING FESTIVAL’ the headline read. Clicking on it, another window pops up. ’12-year-old girl drowns in lake, second drowning in 6 months at Lake Manitoc.’ “Six more spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it’s picking up it’s pace.��� He finished. Dean tossed a shirt down on the bed before turning around to face Sam.

             “So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?”

             “The whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me.” Sam replied, looking at Dean as he walked over to look at the computer.

             “Why?”

             “Loch Ness, un Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing.” He started, looking back at the tribune homepage. “Whatever it is out there, no one’s living to talk about it.”

             “I’m calling ghost!” I popped off from my spot on the bed. Both brothers just looked at me, Sam shaking his head while Dean just rolled his eyes at me, looking back to the computer.

             “Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?” Dean asked.

             “Christopher Barr, the victim in May.”

             “Barr is Andrea’s last name.” I told them. Sam clicked on the link, opening up a new page on his laptop. ‘LOCAL MAN IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT.’ The picture loading to show Lucas surrounded by police.

             “Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea’s husband, Lucas’s father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued.” Sam said, reading the link.

             “Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.” I said.

             “No wonder the kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over.” Dean said, turning to look at me. He had told me about his mom, how he had witnessed what happened, and I had told him how I was in the car wreck that ended both of my parent’s lives. This case just got a whole lot harder. 

  “Can we join you?” Sam asked Andrea when we were within hearing distance of her. We had just gotten to the park and after a brief moment to look around, we had headed towards where she sat on the bench, watching Lucas color and play with his toy soldiers.  

             “I’m here with my son.” She responded. It was clearly a dismissal, but unfortunately, we had a job to do.

             “Oh. Mind if we say hi?” Dean asked, grabbing my wrist to pull me with him over to Lucas.

             “Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.” I heard Andrea say to Sam as we walked away.

             “How’s it going?” Dean asked, kneeling down on the bench were Lucas was coloring. I elected to kneel on the grass beside him instead, but he never looks up at us. “Oh, I used to love these things.” He picked up one of the soldiers, making gun and explosion noises before tossing the soldier back down. “So crayons is more your thing? That’s cool. Chicks dig artists. Just ask Freya.” He winked at me as he spoke, pulling me into the conversation.

             “You’re pretty good, Lucas.” I began, looking at the drawings laying on the bench. “I used to draw with my older brother when I was a kid. Can we sit and draw with you for a while?” I asked him. Dean picked up a crayon, handing it to me before getting his own. I picked up the pad of paper, tearing one off for Dean and setting it down in front of him before I started drawing.

             “You know, I’m thinking you can hear us, you just don’t want to talk. I don’t know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel, we both do. When we were your age, we saw something…” Dean trailed off, looking at me, unsure of how to finish his sentence. “Well, maybe you don’t think anyone will listen to you, or, uh… or believe you. I want you to know that we will.” Dean said pointing back and forth between the two of us.

             “You don’t even have to say anything.” I began. “You could draw us a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.”

             “Okay, no problem.” Dean said after a short pause. “This is for you.” He holds out his drawing to Lucas. “This is my family.” Pointing to each person. “That’s my dad. That’s my mom. That’s my geek brother, that is this beautiful pain in my butt,” He pointed at me, “and that’s me.” He paused, giving Lucas the chance to say or do something, but there was nothing. “All right, so I’m a sucky artist. I’ll see you around, Lucas.” He said, standing and waiting for me to give my drawing to Lucas.

             “I drew this for you, Lucas.” I said, pointing down to the figure of the angel I had hastily drawn on my page. “To remind you that there is always someone there for you, no matter how you feel.” I sat it down in front of him, taking Dean’s outstretched hand, before standing up. We made our way back to Andrea and Sam, Dean dropping my hand, but moving his to my lower back to guide me back. I loved it when he did that, it always gave me a sense of security and comfort.

             “Lucas hasn’t said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad’s accident.” Andrea said as we walked up, joining her and Sam.

             “Yeah, we heard. Sorry.” He offered her. Andrea nodded her head in thanks before turning back to Sam as he spoke.

             “What are the doctors saying?”

             “That it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress.”

             “That can’t be easy. For either of you.” Sam replied.

             “We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It’s just… when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…” She trailed off. I reached out and took her hand, giving it a small squeeze, offering comfort anyway I could.

             “Kids are strong. You’d be surprised what they can deal with.” Dean told her.

             “You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish – “ She was cut off by Lucas ducking between our clasped hands, coming to a stop in front of Dean and I. “Hey sweetie.” She said to him, dropping my hand and reaching for Lucas. Instead of acknowledging his mother, he hands a picture to me.

             “Thanks. Thanks, Lucas.” Dean said. I looked down at the picture, recognizing it, but not being able to place it.

             “Thank you for letting us talk to him, Andrea.” I said to her, touching the back of her arm, as we turned to walk back to the Impala.

             “You know, that’s the most interaction anyone has gotten out of him since the accident. I should be saying thank you to you.” She stated. I smiled at her and nodded before turning to follow the boys back to the car. Dean was waiting by my door, holding it open for me.

             “You okay?” He asked me, eyes searching my face.

             “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

             “Yeah, I’m good.” He said, squeezing my elbow as I sat down. Closing my door, he moved to the front, starting the car.

             “I swear, I recognize this picture. It’s going to bug me.” I said, looking down at the drawing again before folding it up and placing it in my jacket. “Okay, first things first.” I started back up. “If I don’t get some food, and I do mean soon, I’m literally going to turn homicidal.” I stated, breaking the tension in the car.

             “She’s hangry!” Sam yelled from the front seat, laughing at my pout.

             “Samuel Winchester.” I started. “I will stab you.”

             “Freya, you don’t scare me.” He said, still laughing at me. Dean had even joined in at this point. So instead of answering him, I let out a deep growl, my eyes turning purple. But instead of the intimidation I had hoped for, Sam just started laughing even harder!

             “Really? You’re resorting to growling at us?” Dean said. “That’s adorable. She’s like, a really angry bear cub, or something.” He said to Sam, who just turned around and ruffled my hair.

             “Looks like one too!” Sam laughed again. Huffing, I just sat back in the seat, fighting a smile at the two children in the front seat as they continued to laugh at me. I caught Dean’s eye in the rear view mirror, causing me to blush before I looked away quickly, trying not to get caught.

             “Okay, okay, let’s feed the feral creature in the backseat.” Dean chuckled out, pulling the car into a diner just down the street from the motel we were staying at.

             “I hate you both.”

             “That’s cute, princess.” Dean bit back at me, getting out and opening my door for me. Stepping out, I looked up to see he was far closer to me than I expected, the scent of pine trees and leather wrapping around me. “And the biggest lie you’ve ever told.” He said with a smirk on his face. I could tell he noticed the blush that time because his smirk got bigger.

             “Food!” Sam yelled out, before leading the way into the diner. 

A knock on the door woke me the next morning. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was, but the knock came again, followed by Dean’s voice.

             “Freya, wake the hell up and open the door, sweetheart.” He called out, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

             “Fucking hell, hold on.” I said, as I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Standing up, I walked over to the door and opened it for him to come in. It didn’t even register to me that I was still wearing what I slept in until Dean spoke.

             “Is that my shirt?” He asked, eyes trailing up and down my figure. Looking down at myself, I noticed that, yes, I was indeed wearing the shirt he was looking for yesterday… and nothing else…

             “Maybe…” I trailed off. Stepping closer to me, he lifted his hand, fingers brushing against the buttons.

             “I’ve been looking for it.” He said, looking down at me. He was close enough that I could feel the heat from his body seeping into mine.

             “Do you want it back?” I whispered, raising my fingers to the buttons. Dean opened his mouth to respond, when another knock sounded at my door.

             “Hurry up you two, I have coffee.” Sam called out from the other side of the door, effectively breaking the spell that had previously bound Dean and I. His footsteps sounded as he walked away, down to their shared room as I turned back to Dean.

             “Keep it. I like the way it looks on you.” Was all he said before turning back to the door. “Don’t keep me waiting, princess.” He closed the door with a wink as he went to join his brother in their room. I swear the air in my lungs left with him because suddenly I couldn’t breathe. What the hell was that? I’ll be honest, I didn’t have much experience in the sex department, but Jesus Christ I have never wanted to kiss someone as badly as I wanted to close that gap between us. The way he looked at me, the sound of his voice, the way his fingers grazed me… What was going on?

             ‘It’s okay, Freya.’ Came the voice. I had almost forgot about Valkyrie. ‘What you’re feeling. It’s okay. It will all make sense. That boy is special.’ She said to me.

             ‘Mind filling a girl in?’

             ‘Soon. Not quite yet. Don’t push him away.’ She responded. ‘Get dressed. You don’t want to keep them waiting.’ That wasn’t cryptic… AT ALL. Thanks, creepy internal voice… My mind drifted back to the interaction with Dean all on it’s own, no matter how hard I tried not to think about it, and I came to a decision. He liked the way it looked on me? Guess I found what I’m wearing today! It’s my turn to tease him a little bit. Pulling on a pair of tight, hip hugging skinny jeans, I threw on a low cut tank top, tying his flannel together in the front, but letting it hang open. I grabbed my converse and made my way out of my room, down to the brothers. Upon entering, Sam greeted me with a Chai Latte.

             “Holy Fuck, I think you’re my favorite Winchester.” I praised him, hold the drink up to my nose. “Is there cinnamon in this?” I asked him?

             “Yeah, mixed in, just how you like it.” I smiled dreamily up at him, thanking him over and over again.

             “Hey, I thought I was your favorite Winchester?” Dean yelled out from the bathroom.

             “Whatever gave you that impression?” I called back to him, just as he walked out, stopping dead in his tracks when he caught sight of me, his eyes zeroing in on my cleavage. He didn’t answer me, just scowled at me as I walked up to him, handing him his coffee with a smirk as Sam started to speak from behind us. He narrowed his eyes at me, fingers brushing mine when he took the cup.

             “Careful, princess.” He whispered.

             “So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie.” Sam began.

             “What do you mean?” Dean asked him, walking past me, his arm brushing up against my back as he went. The brothers sat down as I came to a stop in front of them.

             “I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

             “He drowned?”

             “Yep. In the sink.”

             “What the hell? So you’re right, this isn’t a creature.” Dean started, kicking my foot with his when he heard me start to giggle. “We’re dealing with something else.”

             “Yeah, but what?”

             “I still say ghost.” I chimed in.

             “Proof, princess.” Dean rolled his eyes at me.

             “You just wait. And when it turns out I’m right, I want to hear you say it, sugar.” I said to him.

             “Okay, back to this.” Sam said with a shake of his head. “What could it be?”

             “I don’t know.” Dean started, deliberately not looking in my direction. “Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water… water that comes from the same source.”

             “The lake.” Sam responded.

             “Yeah.”

             “Which would explain why it’s upping the body count. The lake is draining. I’ll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it’s running out of time.”

             “And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean said, standing up. He started pacing the room at that point.

             “I can say, I don’t think it’s a demon. They leave a special kind of stink in a place for months after they’ve been there. I didn’t smell anything like that at the Carlton house when we were there.” I told them.

             "This is gonna happen again soon.” Dean stated, finally sitting down.

             “And we do know one thing for sure.” Sam cut in. “We know this has something to do with Bill Carlton.”

             “Yeah, it took both his kids.”

             “And I’ve been asking around. Lucas’s dad, Chris – was Bill Carlton’s godson.” Sam informed you.

             “Let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.” Dean said, grabbing his jacket before heading to the car, Sam and me right behind him. 

When we arrived, I spotted Mr. Carlton sitting out on his boat dock, when I was getting out of the car. I tapped Dean’s hand, where he had been holding my door, pointing it out to him. Nodding, he called over to Sam and started waking that way.

             “Mr. Carlton?” Sam called out, causing him to look up at us, watching us as we approached him. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

             “We’re from the Department –“ Dean started.

             “I don’t care who you’re with. I’ve answered enough questions today.” Mr. Carlton cut Dean off. The sadness coming off of him was so intense it almost brought me to my knees.

             “Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?” Sam asked. “Mr. Carlton, Sophie’s drowning and Will’s death – we think there might be a connection to you or your family.”

             “My children are gone. It’s… it’s worse than dying. Go away. Please.” The emotions he was projecting were making it hard for me to breathe.

             ‘It will pass.’ Valkyire spoke in my head. ‘You’ll get used to being able to feel the emotional turmoil the people around you are experiencing. With time and practice, you’ll be able to feel even the smallest emotion.’ With my hand on my chest, I turned away from Mr. Carlton, my eyes closed, blindly following the smell of pine trees and coffee.

             “Hey, hey, hey.” Dean caught me as I stumbled off the dock and back onto dry land. “What’s going on?” He asked me, one hand wrapped around my back, clutching my waist and the other holding my hand, guiding me back towards the car.

             “His emotions. They were so strong…” Trailed off. “Valkyire said I would get used to it, but I couldn’t breathe. I’m sorry.”

             “Stop apologizing.” He mumbled in my hair as he helped me get settled in the car. Sam had opened the door for him when he noticed my predicament. As they stood outside the door. “Emotions, huh?”

             “Valkyire said I’ll be able to feel the emotions of those around me with time, but, I could feel the pain and sadness he carried. It almost brought me to my knees.” I told him.

             “So you’re like… a human lie detector.” Dean popped off. I could tell he was trying to lighten the mood, but I could still see the tightness in his shoulders.

             “Why, you hiding something from me?” I joked back, but instead of answering me, he just chuckled at me and winked before turning back to Sam.

             "What do you think?" Sam asked.

             "I think the poor guy’s been through hell. I also think he’s not telling us something.”

             “So now what?”

             “Huh.”

             “What?” I asked him. He was looking up at the house when he answered me.

             “You still got that picture from Lucas?” He asked me. I nodded to him, reaching into my jacket pocket, pulling it out and handing it to him. “Maybe Bill’s not the only one who knows something.” He said after he unfolded it, holding it up so we could all see it. That’s why I recognized it. It was a drawing of the Carlton house.          

   “Let’s go see him.” I said.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Andrea’s voice rang out.

             “We just need to talk to him.” Dean implored, gesturing to himself and I. “Just for a few mintues.”

             “He won’t say anything. What good’s it gonna do?”

             “Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something’s happening out there.” Sam stepped in.

             “My husband, the others, they just drowned. That’s all.”

             “If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let us talk to your son.” Dean said. Sighing, she opened the door, letting us in. I rested my hand on her arm as we walked past her and into the house.

             “Thank you, Andrea.” I said.  We followed her up the stairs, where she paused at an open door, pointing down at the floor. I nodded at her as Dean and I walked into the room.

             “Hey, Lucas. You remember us?” He went unanswered as Lucas kept drawing. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, we need your help again.” He interupted Lucas’s drawing by unfolding the picture he gave us and setting it down on the floor in front of him.

             “How did you know to draw this?” I asked him. “Did you know something bad was gonna happen?”

             “Maybe you could nod yes or no for us.” Dean tried. But he just kept coloring.

             “You’re scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, Freya saw something bad happen to her parents too, and I was scared, we both were. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom, Freya’s parents—I know they wanted us to be brave. I think about that every day. And we do our best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.” Lucas stopped coloring at that, dropping his crayon before looking up at me and then Dean. That was the first time he actually made eye contact with any of us. Looking back down, he locates the picture he was searching for and hands it to Dean.

             “Thanks, Lucas.” I told him. 

We were sitting in the Impala, looking at the picture Lucas had given us. Too Daze Gone by Billy Squier was playing in the background as we spoke to each other.

             “Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died.” Dean stated.

             “There are cases – going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies.” Sam sprouted off. Dude is a walking encyclopedia.

             “Whatever’s out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it’s only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.”  

             “All right, we got another house to find.”

             “Only problem is, there’s about a thousand yellow two-stories in the county alone.” Dean said.

             “See this church? I bet there’s less than a thousand of those around here.” Sam pointed out.

             “Oh, College Boy thinks he’s so smart.”

             “I was literally about to say the same thing.” I deadpanned to Dean.

             “He beat you to it, princess.” He said with a shrug. I looked over at Sam to see him looking quite smug with himself.

             “You think you’re so cute, don’t you?” I popped off at Sam but he just laughed me off before getting a more serious look on his face, turning to his brother.

             “You know, um…” He trailed off. Ohhhh insert uncomfortable conversation here, I laughed at myself. “What you said about mom… You never told me that before.”

             “It’s no big deal.” Dean said, trying to brush off the conversation. “Oh God, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” He sassed at Sam.

             “Ohhhh I want a hug!” I piped up from the backseat.

             “Knock it off.” Dean said sternly. He caught my pout in the rear view mirror. “I’ll give you a damn hug when we get out of the car, stop pouting.” He glared at me. I broke his gaze and looked at the floor, but I couldn’t hide the smile on my face. 

                We found the house, sitting next to a little white church, just like Lucas’s picture said it was. Dean parked the car outside the house, getting out and opening my door for me, before holding the picture up, comparing it. I got out and started walking towards the house, but he grabbed my elbow, stopping me. Confused, I turned back towards him with a questioning look on my face, but he just shook his head and wrapped his arms around me, his head coming to rest on top of mine. Oh right, the hug he promised me. I pulled my own arms up around his back, squeezing him to me. I couldn’t help but melt against him, a feeling of safety coming over me and his scent grounded me. I don’t know how long we stood there, wrapped in each other before Sam cleared his throat.

             “As touching as this is, we have a case to work.” He said, smirking when Dean turned to glare at him. I didn’t want to let him go, but Sam was right. We needed to figure this out. So, reluctantly, I dropped my arms back to my side and turned back towards the house. Dean let me go, but his hand still found its way to my lower back.

             “We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am –“ Dean began as soon as the door opened. “- but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, and has a red bicycle.”        

             “No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter’s been gone for thirty-five years now.” The older woman replied before opening the door wider, letting us into the house. I took a look around, noting the picture of a little boy on one of the tables in the room.

             “The police never – I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” She said. My ghost theory was looking better by the second. Sam pointed out the toy soldiers on the mantle to us, the exact same ones that Lucas was playing with. “Losing him – you know, it’s… it’s worse than dying.” Her words echoed around in my head, an exact replica of what Mr. Carlton had said. I could feel the sadness coming off her, but it was muted. Not as strong as it was with Mr. Carlton. It made me want to wrap her up in a hug, comfort her in whatever way I could.

             “Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” Dean asked her.

             “He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up.” I noticed Dean picking up a picture before turning it over, whispering it out loud so I could hear him.

             “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy.”

            We had left Mrs. Sweeney’s house in a hurry after that, booking it back to the Impala. I was pretty sure that Mr. Carlton had killed Peter Sweeney and now little Peter was getting his revenge.

             “Okay, so this little Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.” Sam started.��          

             “Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean asked.

             “And Bill, the people he loves, they’re all getting punished.”

             “So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

             “What if Bill killed him?” Sam asked. Hey, he caught up! Welcome to the party, Samuel!

             “Peter’s spirit would be furious. It’d want revenge. It’s possible.”

             “We need to get back to the Carlton house.” I said, causing Dean to push down on the gas. It didn’t take us long to get there, with Dean’s driving, and as soon as the car was in park, we were out, rushing to the house.

             “Mr. Carlton?” Sam called out just as the sound of a boat engine started up. We all took off running towards the dock, and I reached the end just as the boat passed. I reached out, grabbing the rope trailing off the end of the boat, wrapping my other hand around the dock post, but I couldn’t hold it for long. The rope was wet, and it slipped out of my grasp right as the brothers reached me.

             “No!” I yelled out, trying to dive for the rope again, but Dean grabbed me before I could jump after it.

             “Mr. Carlton! You need to come back!” Dean yelled after him. “Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!”

             “Mr. Carlton!” Sam yelled out. He ignored us, steering the boat out into the middle of the lake. He didn’t get far before the water rose up, flipping the boat, pulling both it and Mr. Carlton down into the lake.

             “Dammit!” I yelled out, flinging my arm into the dock post, splintering it in half. “I couldn’t hold him!” I said, trying so hard to keep my tears in. Dean walked up to me, grabbing my chin in his hand, holding my shoulder with the other.

             “Hey, this is not on you. Don’t do that.” He said sternly. I couldn’t say anything without crying so instead I just nodded, dropping my eyes to the ground. He pulled me into him, leaving a kiss on my temple before speaking again. “Let’s get out of here. Get to the police station.” He said as he walked me back to the car, getting me settled in the back seat. 

                Lucas was sitting in one of the chairs in the main room of the police station when we arrived, rocking back and forth. It was clear to anyone around that he was upset, his mother was sitting next to him holding a paper bag and a plastic container, worry in her eyes as she watched him.

             “Baby, what’s wrong?” She asked Lucas. He didn’t answer or look up, just kept rocking. “Sam, Dean, Freya.” She said, standing up, setting her stuff down in the chair behind her before addressing us again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

             “So now you’re on a first-name basis. What are you doing here? Jake, the sheriff asked her.

             “I brought you dinner.”

             “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t really have time.” He told his daughter.

             “I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

             “Right now we don’t know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.” Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Lucas jumps out of his seat, looking so scared, face pale. He grabbed Dean arm and my hand, whining the entire time.

             “Lucas, hey, what is it?” Dean asked him, both of us kneeling down to his level. “Lucas,” Dean tried again.

             “Lucas.” Andrea tried.

             “Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I said, speaking as calmly and soothingly as I could.

             “Hey, Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Dean confirmed in that ‘everything’s going to work out’ voice he has. Andrea managed to pull him off us and led him out of the station, but he never once looked away from us. I could feel the terror that held him captive. It was squeezing my heart. I watched him leave, rubbing my chest over my heart. Dean’s hand came to rest between my shoulder blades, rubbing up and down. He could tell. He can always tell. Leading us into his office, Jake threw his jacket down before turning to us.

             “Okay, just so I’m clear, you see… something attack Bill’s boat, sending Bill – who is a very good swimmer, by the way – into the drink, and you never see him again?” He asked us. Sharing a glance with Sam and I, Dean responded to him.

             “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

             “And I’m supposed to believe this, even though I’ve already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you’re describing is impossible? And you’re not really Wildlife Service?” Jake stated, directing his glare to me as he finished speaking. “That’s right, I checked. Department’s never heard of you three.”

             See, now, we can explain that.” Dean started, pulling Jake’s glare off of me and onto himself.

             “Enough. Please. The only reason you’re breathing free air is one of Bill’s neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. They also claimed that a woman matching your description,” He turned to look at me again, “held the boat back, all on her own, for almost thirty seconds before he got away.” Shit. I could feel Dean tensing behind me and saw Sam take a small step closer to me. They had my back.        

             ‘Of course they have your back.’ Valkyrie pipped up. ‘They are part of your pack now, even if they don’t know it yet.’ Jake didn’t dwell on that fact, but he kept eyeing me suspiciously as he spoke.

             “So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get in your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don’t ever darken my doorstep again.” He finished.

             “Door number two sounds good.” Sam replied before either Dean or myself could speak up.           

  “That’s the one I’d pick.” He said as he escorted us out of the station and to the Impala, watching us carefully as we got in the car and drove off.

           I was lost in my thoughts as we were leaving town, my mind was still racing with thoughts of Lucas and his behavior the last time we saw him. I didn’t feel right leaving him like that, and I could tell I wasn’t the only one having a hard time. I could feel the emotions Dean was battling in the front seat, debating with himself.

             “Green” Sam said.

             “What?” Dean answered him.

             “Light’s green.” Glancing up at the stop light we were at, Dean eased the car out onto the road, turning right instead.

             “Uh, the interstate’s the other way.” Sam pointed out.

             “I know.”

             “We aren’t leaving.” I stated. “I can’t shake this unsettling feeling in my chest.” I told them both.

             “But guys, this job, I think it’s over.” Sam objected.

             “I’m not so sure.” Dean met my eyes in the rear view mirror as he spoke.

             “If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter’s spirit got it’s revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

             “All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn’t done? You know, what if we’ve missed something? What if more people get hurt?”

             “But why would you think that?” Sam questioned.

             “Because Lucas was really scared.” I cut in, Dean nodding his head in agreement.

             “That’s what this is about?”

             “I just don’t want to leave town until I know the kid’s okay.” Dean responded.

             “Who are you? And what have you done with my brother and best friend?” Sam asked, his gaze bouncing between his brother and me.

             “Shut up.” Dean popped off at him, pushing his foot down on the accelerator. 

                “Are you sure about this? It’s pretty late, man.” Sam asked us as we made our way up to Andrea’s front door. Dean was reaching for the doorbell when Lucas threw the door open. He was freaking out, clearly afraid of something.

             “Lucas? Lucas!” Dean called out to him as he turned and ran, leading us up the stairs. He ran to a door in the hallway, banging on it repeatedly. Dean followed closely behind, pulling him back from the door just as Sam kicked it in, rushing inside, sliding to a stop by the bathtub. He dove into the bathtub, arms wrapping around Andrea trying to pull her out, but Peter was determined to keep her there.

             “Freya!” Sam called out for me, needing my help, so I ran into the bathroom, kneeling next to him and reaching in to grab a hold of her. Between the two of us, we finally managed to get Andrea out of the bathtub, her collapsing across my chest.

             “Get a towel.” I said, not really caring who did it, but wanting to cover Andrea and conserve what was left of her modesty. Sam had scrambled up the moment I spoke, searching the bathroom until he found a fluffy white towel, handing it to me so I could wrap up her shaking frame. “You’re okay.” I whispered to her, rubbing her arms. “We’re going to take Lucas downstairs. Go get dressed, get warmed up. We’ll be here when you’re ready.” I told her, helping her stand and make her way to her room. It was dawn by the time she made her way back downstairs, sitting down on the couch next to me, leaning against my shoulder.

             “Can you tell me?” Sam prodded her, gently.

             “No.” Dean was looking around the room, going through different notebooks and books on the shelves.  “It doesn’t make any sense.” She continued as she started crying, causing me to wrap my arm around her shoulder. “I’m going crazy.” She said as she covered her face with her hands, her body shaking.

             “No, you’re not. Tell me what happened. Everything.” Sam encouraged her.

             “I heard… I thought I heard… there was this voice.”

             “What did it say?”

             “It said… it said ‘come play with me’.” She told him, lifting her head to look at him. “What is happening?” She asked, sobbing into my shoulder. Dean joined us at that moment with what looked like a scrapbook in his hands. He opened it up and set it down in front of us, pointing to it.

             “Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?” He asked her.

             “What? Um, um, no.” She started, shaking her head, but then she paused. “Except that’s my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” She was pointing to one of the pictures showing her dad standing next to Peter. I looked up at the brothers, catching Dean’s eye before he turned to Sam.

             “Chris Barr’s drowning. The connection wasn’t to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

             “Bill and the sheriff –“ Sam started.

             “They were both involved with Peter.” I finished for him.

             “What about Chris? My dad – what are you talking about?” Andrea asked, sitting up off my shoulder. We didn’t get a chance to answer her because Lucas caught our attention.

             “Lucas?” Dean called out to him. He didn’t answer, just stared out the window. “Lucas, what is it?” Dean asked again, but instead of answering, he just opened the door and walked out. As we all trailed after him, I tried so hard to get a read on his emotions, trying to maybe put this newly found gift to use, but I couldn’t figure out how to focus on him. I was getting nothing.

             “Lucas, honey?” Andrea tried, and again,  we got no answer. He finally came to a stop past the trees and looked down at the ground, then up at Dean. It was clear he was trying to tell us that something in the ground below our feet.

             “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?” Dean instructed Andrea. As she pulled him back to the house, I turned to the boys.

             “You still have those shovels in the trunk?” Nodding, they left to go get them. When they returned, they started digging, but they didn’t get very far when Sam’s shovel hit something solid, causing a loud noise to ring out in the clearing. I stepped closer, looking over Dean’s shoulder to see what they had found as the started pulling it up.

             “Peter’s bike.” Sam said, but I wasn’t listening to him. My focus was entirely on the gun I could feel pressed into the back of my head. How the fuck did I not hear him sneaking up on us?

             “Who are you?” Jake spoke up, causing both brothers to drop their shovels and turn towards us. Now, I was fairly certain, if I could survive a snapped neck, I could survive a gunshot, but I wasn’t about to take any chances with my brain stem… My eyes locked onto Dean, his jaw clenched as he glared at Jake.

             “Put the gun down, Jake.” Sam said.

             “How did you know that was there?”

             “What happened? You and Bill kill Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?” Dean barked at him, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check.

             “You can’t bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.” I told him. I could hear Andrea’s footsteps coming closer to us, but I didn’t dare turn around, especially when he pushed the gun further against my head.

             “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

             “You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That’s what the hell I’m talking about.” Dean answered him.

             “Dad!” Andrea called out to him.

             “And now, you got one seriously pissed-off spirit.” I finished for Dean.

             “It’s gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It’s gonna drown them. And it’s gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then, after that, it’s gonna take you, and it’s not gonna stop until it does.” Sam informed him.

             “Yeah, and how do you know that?” Jake asked, speculation coloring his every word.

             “Because that’s exactly what it did to Bill Carlton.”

             “Listen to yourselves, the three of you. You’re insane.” Jake tried to reason.

             “I don’t really give a rat’s ass what you think of us. But if we’re gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust.” Dean told him. “Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn’t just let him go in the lake.”

             “Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea asked him.

             “No. Don’t listen to them. They’re liars and they’re dangerous.”

             “We’re dangerous? You’re the one with a gun digging into my skull.” I snarked at him, but Dean shot me a look, silently telling me to shut my mouth.

             “Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.” Andrea begged him, causing him to turn towards her. “Tell me you – you didn’t kill anyone.” Silently, he just turned away from her, answering her question. “Oh my god.” She breathed out. The moment he dropped his gun, Dean had my hand in his, tugging me over to him, moving me behind him and Sam.

             “Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.” Jake said, sadly. “Oh Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake.” He began, trying to explain. “But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It’s not rational.”

             “All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.” Dean began, but I stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, pointing down towards the lake.

             “Lucas!” Jake yelled out, trying to stop his grandson from reaching the water. When he didn’t respond to us yelling at him, I took off running, trying so hard to get there in time, but just as I reached the dock, Peter reached up, grabbing Lucas by the wrist and dragging him under. I didn’t hesitate, I just reacted, diving in and swimming after him. I saw Peter, now holding onto Lucas’s ankle, pulling him down and I was able to grab onto his wrist. I tried so hard to pull him back up, but I didn’t have any leverage, and I was quickly getting pulled down with them, but I refused to let go. I kicked as hard as I could, trying everything to get Peter to let go. Seconds ticked by, but nothing was working. Right as we reached the bottom of the lake, Peter released Lucas’s ankle. I wrapped him in my arms and kicked as hard as I could, swimming back to the surface, but the world was starting to turn black, my chest was burning from the need for air, and my progress was starting to slow, so using what little strength I had left, I released Lucas and pushed him as hard as I could towards the surface, watching him float away as the world slowly lost focus and my eyes started to close. I couldn’t take the pressure anymore, so I opened my mouth and let the world go dark. 

                “It’s not your time, child. Why are you here?” I heard the voice as I was opening my eyes. Glancing around me, I found myself in a beautiful clearing, surrounded by a forest, flowers in full bloom all around where I was sitting. Looking up to find the source of the voice, I saw the largest wolf I had ever seen in my entire life, but I wasn’t afraid. She was gorgeous, long, pure white fur covered her body and she had a red crescent moon on her head, right between her eyes.

             “Where is here?” I asked her.

             “Ahh, I see.” Came her response. “You’ve just found your wolf?” She asked me.

             “My wolf?” Her eyes narrowed at me.

             “Interesting. You know nothing of who or what you are, do you?”

             “My parents died when I was a toddler. I have been on my own ever since. My friends are trying to help figure me out.” I told her.

             “Friends?”

             “Sam and Dean Winchester.” I told her. “My mother’s journal told me to find their dad, but he disappeared and now we are looking for both him and answers to my questions.”

             “Winchester…” She trailed off, getting a far away look in her eye. “They have such great destinies ahead of them, and I sense that your fate will be intertwined with them for many years to come. Trust them, trust HIM, and most importantly, trust yourself.” She said. I didn’t have to ask her who the ‘him’ she was speaking of was, I knew it was Dean. I opened my mouth to ask her why he was so special to me, why I couldn’t stay away from him, but I heard my name being called, far in the distance.

             “Dean?”

             “Our time has come to an end. Return to the land of the living, we will meet again.” She spoke softly to me as the world around me started to blur.

             “Freya!” Dean was shaking me as my senses started to wake back up. “Come on, princess. You gotta wake up.”

             “Dean?”

             “There you go, there you are, come on, come on. Sweetheart.” Opening my eyes, I found myself leaning up against Sam’s chest with Dean kneeling on the ground in front of me, hands on either side of my face.

             “What happened?” I asked weakly, I couldn’t quite lift myself off of Sam just yet.

             “You did it, princess. You saved him.” Dean answered me. “I found him, right after you pushed him up, I got him up here, Sam took him, then I went back for you. I almost couldn’t find you.” He finished, trailing off quietly. He was staring at me, but I couldn’t quite place the intense look in his eyes.

             “Are you okay?” Sam asked me, squeezing my arms. I could feel the strength returning to my limbs as I started to set up.

             "Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’m okay.” I said, turning back to Dean, I reached up and grabbed onto one of the hands still on my face. “I’m okay.” I repeated, looking into his eyes. He didn’t answer, just nodded his head, helping me stand up. He wrapped me up in a blanket and walked me to the car, never once taking his hand off my back. “Thank you.” I whispered as he helped me sit down.

             “You don’t have to thank me.” He said, kneeling down in front of me. “Just stop dying.” He said with a roll of his eyes. He said it with a joking tone, but I could tell, deep down, it bothered him more than he was letting on, so I just leaned forward and hugged him close to me.

             “I’ll try.” 

                A knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts about the mysterious white wolf I had met when I ‘died.’

             “You ready to go, princess?” Dean asked me when I had opened the door. “Cars packed, just waiting on you.” He was leaning against the door frame, watching me move around the room, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything.

             “Yeah, I’m good. Let me grab my bag.” I turned to pick it up, but his arm shot out, grabbing it before I could.

             “I got it, you just worry about getting that pretty ass outside and in my baby.” He said. Of course he would make me blush, right now, when he’s so close to me and I can’t hide it from him. But he didn’t call me out on it, just reached up a finger, brushed it down my cheek before turning and leaving me standing there, staring after him. This fucking man. Doing one more check, I followed after him, picking up the brother’s conversation.

             “Look, we’re not gonna save everybody.” Sam said.

             “I know.” Dean responded. He had told me what happened while I was out. Jake had sacrificed himself to safe Lucas. It was what caused Peter to let go when he did.

             “Sam, Dean, Freya.” I heard Andrea call, turning to see her and Lucas walking up to us.

             “Hey.” Dean called back.

             “We’re glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road.” She smiled at us, looking down at Lucas who was carrying a bunch of sandwiches. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

             “Can I give it to them now?” Lucas spoke, looking up at his mother. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled quite as big as I did at hearing his voice.

             “Of course.” She answered him, leaning down to kiss his head.

             “Come on, Lucas, let’s load this into the car.” Dean waved him over, leading him up to the passenger door.

             “How you holding up?” Sam asked her.

             “It’s just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?” Sighing, Sam answered her.

             “Andrea, I’m sorry.” He started, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

             “You saved my son. I can’t ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”

             “All right, if you’re gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase,” I heard Dean speaking to Lucas, “so I want you to repeat it one more time.” Oh Jesus Christ, what was he teaching him?

             “Zeppelin rules!” Lucas cheered, bringing a smile to my face again.

             “I don’t know, AC/DC might have them beat.” I called out to them. Dean just rolled his eyes at me before speaking up.

             “Don’t listen to her. Just because she’s pretty, doesn’t make her right.” He joked. “One more time, my man.” He encouraged.

             “Zeppelin rules!”

             “That’s right. Up high.” Dean raised his hand, Lucas, grinning ear to ear, high fived him. “You take care of your mom, okay?” He tells him, more serious now.

             “All right.” He responded as his mom walked up to where I was leaning up against the car, turning to me, she leaned up and kissed me. I was shocked at first, not expecting it, but I quickly returned it, bringing my hand up to cup her cheek. I could hear Dean clearing his throat behind us and reluctantly pulled away from her.

             “Sam, move your ass.” He started, coming up behind me, grabbing me by the waist and pushing me to my door. “We’re gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”

             “Can’t we stay just a little bit longer?” I asked him, hearing Andrea start laughing behind me.

             “Get in the car, Freya.” He said, bending down to open the door and all but pushing me inside. As we pulled out and onto the road, I turned around in the seat, waving goodbye to both Lucas and Andrea.

             “By the way, Dean.” I started, leaning up and resting my elbows on the seat in front of me. “I never heard you admit that I was right.”

             “What are you talking about?” He asked me, irritation clear in his voice.

             “It WAS a ghost.” I told him, giggling, when he started to scowl.

             “Don’t push your luck, princess.” He replied in a gruff voice, eyes focused on the road. Sam had started laughing with me at this point, shaking his head at his brother.

             “You know, Dean, she did call it.”

             “Oh shut the hell up, you two.”

             “Someone’s grumpy.” I said, patting his cheek only to have him swat at my hand.

             “Probably because you stole his girlfriend.” Sam said before releasing another round of laughs. Grumbling under his breath, Dean leaned forward, turning up the radio and pushing me off the back of the seat, causing me to laugh some more. He was pouting as he drove, and honestly, it was the most adorable thing I had ever seen, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I caught his eye in the rear view mirror as I got settled, his eyes softening as he looked at me.

             “Get some rest princess.” He called back to me, tossing a blanket back at me.

“And I'm moving on, movin' on from town to town

Movin' on baby hey I'm never touching the ground

Moving on moving on from town to town

Movin' on I can't seem to stop now

Movin' on I never seem to slow down.”

[eddiernunson]

Trapped | Eddie Munson | Part 11

Prev Part | Master List | Epilogue

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 11.6k

Next and final chapter will be an Epilogue.

Warnings: It's the last two episodes of ST4...so you get the gist. A large talk of grief at the end with a slight tw for EDs (food restriction due to depression). I don't put all three story lines from Hawkins in. This one has 90% of only what the reader experiences. At the end there's a gap filler for what happens for her over the two days later bullshit that we all had to just...sit through.

Authors Note: Fun fact, as I make this draft it was a year ago that I published the first Part. Man I didn't think I would follow through for the full thing at times but I'm happy to have proven myself wrong.

Chapter Eight: Papa

Stagnant relief made a startling switch into action as the stakes reached into space. A fire is lit under your ass into Eddie’s bedroom, attempting the hopeless task to find any sense of music both Nancy and Eddie would own.

As someone who resided and listened to his music with him, the task was daunting to see if he had any of that Madonna he was once accused of singing in the shower after you had just gotten together. Your eyes switch to Max’s trailer next door, wondering if you could just snatch a tape from her collection. However, it was clear from the yelling and the chaos that there wasn’t enough time for that.

Erica bursts into the room after being on Upside Down watch claiming, “Steve says you need to hurry!”

“Yeah? No shit!” Dustin yelled, on the verge of a rampage.

“We’re trying. We can’t find anything.” Max yells, having gone through half of Eddie’s music yet finding nothing she could use.

“What is all this shit?” Robin yells out, clutching a handful of tapes of artists she’s never even heard of.

“What are you even looking for?” Eddie barks out, this point annoyed his tape collection has been made a mess of.

“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles? Music! We need music!”

Eddie grabs a tape from her, pissed off. “This is music!”

“Okay.” You interject, attempting to de-escalate the already high tense situation. “Okay, Max lives right down the road, why don’t two of us go and grab one that would—”

“Guys!” A loud bark from down the hall comes from Steve, calling out. The collective group makes their way over to see what he was yelling about, met with the sight of Nancy scared yet still alive.  

As Steve and Nancy both climbed the rope to make their way back, Dustin peers at you with a particular look on his face. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“What?”

“Max’s house, when they get back, we’ll go meet over there so Vecna can’t eavesdrop as much.”

“That wasn’t—” You started, but realized there wasn’t much of a point. “Alright.”

Once Steve lands on the landing pad with a stupid amount of grace Dustin lets him know the plans. Steve rolls his eyes, implying they weren’t going to be able to stay with the gate being so close, anyway.

The plan is shared, and you make yourself comfortable at Max’s, while Nancy tells the story of what she had seen.

As it turns out, Vecna was Henry Creel, son of Victor Creel. He was the one who tormented and murdered his family and Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick. Apparently as an Orderly he murdered dozens more in the Labs when there were more numbers than Eleven. In fact, he was One.

Nancy explains everything she saw, and she starts to stammer when she reaches towards the end. Throughout her discussion, she is withdrawn and factual, an armour for her fear.

“He showed me things that haven’t happened yet. The most awful things.” She whispered, continuing her explanation. “I saw a dark cloud spreading over Hawkins. Downtown on fire. Dead soldiers. And this…giant creature with… a gaping mouth. And this creature wasn’t alone.” Her words rung out in a dead silence, no one even daring to breathe. It was truly a higher stake than any of you have ever faced, and it was terrifying. “There were so many monsters. An army. And they were coming into Hawkins. Into our neighborhoods. Our homes. And then… he showed me my mom,” Nancy chokes out, a tear running down her face. “And Holly. Mike. And they…they were all…” She can’t even finish her sentence, and she didn’t have to.

Steve, sitting to your right on the couch as you sat on the floor attempts to defuse the tension risen in the air. “Okay, but… he’s just trying to scare you, Nance.” He says, looking at his lap. You barely believed him and wondered if he believed himself. “Right? I mean…I mean it’s not real.”

“Not yet.” Nancy answers, not accepting his attempt. “But there… there was something else. He showed me gates. Four gates. Spreading across Hawkins. And these gates, they looked like the one outside of Eddie’s trailer, but…they didn’t stop growing. And this wasn’t the Upside Down Hawkins. This was our Hawkins. Our home.”

“Four chimes.” Max speaks up. Your eyes all flutter to her, as she stands leant up against the doorway. “Vecna’s clock. It always chimes four times. Four exactly.”

Nancy gulps. “I heard them too.” You switch your glance back to Nancy, and to say you were a fan of this connection would be a lie.

The air hangs heavy in Max’s house, your pulse racing despite you sitting completely still.

“He’s been telling us his plan this whole time.” Max says.

“Four kills.” Lucas adds, doing the math. “Four gates. End of the world.”

“If that’s true…” Dustin chimes in, hands on his hips and at a loss for words, “he’s only one kill away.”

Eddie speaks up for the first time in a while, and you love him even more for what he says. “Oh Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.” He grumbles into his hands, his hair dishevelled and his body tensing up.

“Try ‘em again. Try ‘em again.” Steve urges Max, referring to the many calls attempted to get a hold of the Buyers before Nancy started explaining what she had saw.

Max does so, running to her phone to give it another ring. She barely holds it before she hangs it up again.

“Anything?” Dustin asks her.

“No. Rang a few times, then went to a busy signal.”

“Maybe you punched it wrong. Try again.” Steve tells her, momentarily taking his hands off his face for it.

“I didn’t punch it in wrong.”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“I think she knows how to use a phone” Dustin interjects, sticking up for Max.

“I’m just saying, she could’ve typed it in wrong.” Steve argues.

Max punches in the phone again, hanging it up even louder after a few seconds. “Same shit.”

“How is that possible?” Lucas asks, his hands on his hips.

“Joyce has this telemarketer job. She’s always on the phone.” Dustin answers. “Mike won’t stop whining about it.”

“Yeah but his phone’s been busy for, what, three days now? That’s not Joyce. No way. Something’s wrong.” Max argues, and despite the telemarketing job being logical, she has a point.

“She’s right.” Nancy agrees. “It can’t be just coincidence. It can’t be.” She gets up, staring out the window. “Whatever’s happening in Lenora is connected to all of this. I’m sure of it. But Vecna can’t hurt them. Not if he’s dead. We have to back in there. Back to the Upside Down.” Nancy announces, and she’s almost an entirely different person after these last five minutes. There’s a conviction in her voice that didn’t feel earned.

The following response is simultaneous.

“Whoa, no, no, no. What?” Steve asks in his most incredulous voice. (And as you know, there are levels)

“Nope. Nope.” Eddie dismisses out of hand, waving his hands to demonstrate his exact disdain for her plan.

“The place we just spent 12 hours trying to escape?” You ask her, hoping she wasn’t serious. Because surely she’s not.

“Let’s think this through.” Steve argues, getting up off the couch to get to Nance.

“What is there to think through?” Nancy interrupts him, confronting him.

“We barely made it out of there in once piece.” Steve argues back.

“That’s what I’m saying.” You mutter, agreeing with him. You look up at your boyfriend as he continues to rub his face in pure stress. You sit up on the couch next to him, rubbing his hand in comfort. He indulges, placing his head into your neck.

“Yeah, because we weren’t prepared.  But this time, we will be. We’ll get weapons and protection. We’ll go through the gate, we’ll find his lair, and we’ll kill him.” Nancy answers him, listing it off as if it were so simple.

“Or he’ll kill us.” Steve bites back. “The only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us.”

“And for good reason.” Robin pipes up for the first time in a while. “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry. One.” She stammers, losing her point. “Sorry. What are we calling him now?”

“One.”

“Vecna.”

“One.”

“Henry.”

“Right. We’ve learned something new about Vecna slash Henry slash One. He’s a number like Eleven, only a sick, evil, male, child-murdering version of her with really bad skin. But my…my point is, he’s super powerful. He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

“Then why fight fair?” Dustin asks, his mind reeling. “You’re right. He’s like Eleven. But that gives us an upper hand. We know Eleven’s strengths. And weaknesses.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica asks pointedly.

“When El remote-travels, she goes into this sort of trance-like state. I bet the same is true of Vecna.” Dustin explains.

“That would explain what he was doing in that attic.” Lucas understands.

“Exactly. When he attacks his next victim, I’ll bet you he’s back in that attic, physical body defenseless.”

“Defenseless?” Steve bites out. “What about the army of bats?” He says, pointing to his neck to where he was strangled.

“Right. We’ll have to find a way past them. Distract them somehow.” Dustin admits to a flaw in his ever-growing plan.

“And, uh, how do we do that, exactly?” Eddie bites out, standing up.

“No idea.” Dustin admits, and Eddie sits right back down. What was brewing in that mind of his? “But once they’re gone, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

“That all sounds great,” you say, standing up from the couch, “in theory.” You finish. “We don’t know when or who he’s going even attack next.”

“Yeah, we do.” Max whispers out. “I can still feel him. I’m still marked. Cursed. I ditch Kate Bush; I draw his focus back to me.”

“Max.” Lucas whispers. “You can’t. He’ll kill you.”

“I survived before.” She gulps, nodding her head. “I can survive again. I just need to keep him busy long enough so that you guys can get into that attic. Then you can chop his head off. Stab him in the heart. Blow him up with some explosive Dustin cooks up. I honestly really don’t care how you put this asshole into his grave. Just…whatever it is…whatever you do…try not to miss.”

The air hangs heavy, again.

But something about how a 15-year-old girl basically offers herself up for a potential sacrifice in the name of destroying the villain does that.

-

 “Check this out. The War Zone.” Eddie says as he taps the ad with his index finger. You stand in-between him and Robin, staring down at the open phone book. “I’ve been there once. It’s huge. They’ve got everything you need for uh…well…” He pauses, catching your eye. “Killing things, basically.”

“You think fake Rambo has enough guns there?” Robin asks, commenting on the ad. “Is that a grenade? I mean, how is any of this legal?”

“Well, lucky for us, it is, so… This… This place is just far enough outside of Hawkins. As long as we steer clear of main roads, we oughta be able to avoid cops and uh, angry hicks.”

“If we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called the War Zone.” Erica points out.

“Normally, I’d agree but we need the weapons. So I think it’s worth the risk.” Nancy states, crossing her arms.

“Me too.” Lucas agrees.

“But is it worth the time?” Dustin asks. “It’ll take all day to bike there and back.”

“Who said anything about bikes?” Eddie asks him, and his voice sounded…cocky?

“You uh, got some car I don’t know about?” You ask, your voice a bit flirtier than you had intended it to.

“It’s…not exactly a car, there sweetheart.” He says, flirting right back. Oh, how you missed this. “And it’s not exactly mine, but uh…it’ll do.” Before you have a minute to revel in how normal your boyfriend seemed, he turns around towards Max. “Hey, Red, uh, you got a ski mask or a bandana, something like that?”

Max smirks, an old favourite making its way to the forefront of her mind.

-

Eddie’s gleeful smile when she hands over the Michael Meyers mask brings out a certain twinkle in his eyes you missed more than words could say.

He leads the entire group across the grassy fields that maintained a permanent home in the park up against one of his neighbour’s homes. He clutches onto a small grey bag you’ve noticed in a messy corner of his room once or twice, grinning at you maniacally when you have an unsaid question on your face. He scopes around the corner, giving a go a head when it’s all clear. The whole group follows him, all looking over your shoulders as Eddie flies across the grass to a specific trailer his fingers have itched for.

He leads across their front yard, the trailer’s inhabitants distracted by something on the radio. He sneaks around the back to a window he very specifically scoped out and opens and climbs in without a second to spare.

If your heart wasn’t racing so much from trying not to get caught you it would’ve been racing by how surprisingly turned on you were.

As soon as Eddie lands on the couch the Michael Meyers mask is unceremoniously ripped off, “That was suffocating.”

With help from Steve, you climb in, internally swearing at Eddie for making it look way easier than it was. As you get to the front, you sit in passenger seat, drawing the window curtain closed. Steve was right behind you, watching curiously as you were as Eddie made rewiring a vehicle look like idle work for idle hands.

“Where’d you learn how do this?” Steve asks him, paying more attention to the actual rewiring process than Eddie was.

“Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my dad was teaching me how to hot wire. Now, I swore to myself I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh, I’m really living up to that Munson name.” He jokes, giving you a saucy wink as he does.

“Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving.” Robin admits timidly.

Eddie smirks, a glint in his eye. “Oh, I’m just startin’ this sucker. Harrington’s got her.” Eddie leans into him, teasing. “Don’t ya, big boy?” Eddie turns and starts the engine, causing a backfire.

The inhabitants of the trailer scramble to their feet upon the backfire. “Hey!”

The door right behind you shakes. “They looked the door!”

Eddie smirks to you, a wild look in his eye. He looks back to Steve, moving to his feet.

For the last two days it felt as if you haven’t seen Eddie experience anything but stress. But here, now, the sounds of the trailer’s true owners yelling after them while they make a quick getaway, he was goddamn thriving.

Steve swears loudly, and before he could even tell Eddie to leave his spot he was already bumping into Steve to the back of the bus. You go right behind him, letting Nancy take the passenger seat.

“It’s just a car.” Steve mutters mostly to himself. “Everybody, hang on to something!”

“Oh my God! Let’s go! Let’s go!” Lucas practically panics.

“Drive, Steve! Drive!” Dustin urges him, mostly everyone having found a spot by now.

Steve drives, and the amount of pure chaos that surrounds both the outside and the inside of the van is at the very least, entertaining.

The radio turned on one of Eddie’s favourite joyride songs, a perfect fit. While the rest of the crowd is on edge and anxious, you are thriving in watching him headbang during one of the most inconvenient times.

The motor home turns the corners of the trailer park hard, yanking your body every which way as everyone seems to simultaneously be yelling at once. The inhabitants’ voices eventually fade, and Steve turns onto the main road.

Mission: Grand Theft Auto was officially successful.

-

Along for the ride into the War Zone, you found yourself sandwiched next to Eddie near the back of the motor home. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, his hand tracing yours absentmindedly. There was an aura of a calm before the storm in the motor home. As soon as the weapons were in your arsenal it was about making them and preparing for the final battle.

The blueprint to which you are still not the happiest about, but you weren’t given much choice in the matter.

“You don’t talk much about him.” You started, allowing your eyes to look up at your boyfriend.

He glances down to you, his face unreadable. “Not much to say. He taught me how to steal cars and how to be freakishly good at pickpocketing.” He looks off, scratching at the stubble starting to form. “He’s not my dad, though.” He says, leaning into you.

You don’t say anything, just silently encourage him to keep talking.

“My dad is Wayne. I’ve never called him that, and only when he’s truly worried or upset does he ever call me son, but I know. He’s my dad. Sure, the man on my birth certificate is currently serving 25 years in prison for a multitude of things, but thanks to Wayne I have a head on my shoulders and I’m not out stealing cars for money. If my old man wasn’t caught, I don’t think he would’ve let me go passed freshman year.” He gulps, shaking his head. Something was clearly on his mind.

“What?” You ask him.

“Say we get through this. We defeat Vecna, the Upside Down is done, whatever.” You nod your head, listening. “How are we still going to prove my innocence? No offence but if I walk in with the same group of people who ran away from the police, I don’t think my case would be helped much.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” You ask him leaning in.

Eddie nods, eager for the distraction.

“Do you think we covered our own tracks the whole time?” You ask him, your voice border lining on skeptical. Eddie’s brow furrows curiously. “God no. The FBI is scary good at covering these tracks. Every time in the aftermath I get guided away by people in FBI jackets who take over the jurisdiction and make sure no wrongly accused get thrown away for the crimes of people in lab coats ten years ago.”

“So, you think the FBI will clear me?” He asks, and there’s just this sliver of hope.

“I will fight someone if they don’t.” You say in all seriousness, and he laughs at your willingness to protect him.

Eddie kisses your head, leaning his chin onto it. Lucas passes you, going to talk to Max one on one, and you turn away out of respect.

“So, how much of your history with this secret dimension do I not know about?” He asks you, an eyebrow quirked.

“Considering this is my fourth encounter, a bit.” You reply, unfazed.

“Can you tell me about it?” He asks, leaning onto one of his biceps to get comfortable.

“Ok.” You answer, and honestly you thought it might take more than that to get it out of you. “But promise me one thing.” Eddie nods rapidly. “When I get to the Russians, try not to get emotional. If I think too hard about it, I can’t even tell the story.”

Eddie gulps, wondering what possibly could’ve happened to require such a disclaimer. “Rule number 3.” He says, and you roll your eyes and start telling him anyway.

From the very beginning.

-

As Steve pulls up to the War Zone, it is immediately known that your rag-tag band of misfits weren’t the only ones who wanted weapons. He stands up from his seat, stretching his arms out before looking to the crowd in the motor home. “Alright. We go in. We get what we need, we get out. Make it quick, we have a wanted fugitive who we cannot risk being seen in this crowd.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement, and all but you, Lucas, Dustin, and of course, Eddie make their way to the front of the motor home.

“Hey, Harrington!” Eddie calls to him, and Steve lifts his brows to acknowledge him. “Could you, uh, get me some spare uh…” he drifts off, aware of an audience.

Steve nods in understanding and gives Nancy the go ahead to open the door.

As the motor home became less crowded you sat next to Eddie under his arm, watching as they disappear around the corner to the main entrance. Eddie is tracing your hand slowly, and it’s so soothing you nearly let your head fall onto his shoulder. You hear him inhale and look to him with a questioning look on your face. He shakes his head, mouthing the words It’s nothing.

You don’t accept his answer, wordlessly caressing his cheek. He melts into it, and you want to freeze time in this moment and never leave. “Tell me.”

“When this is over, we’re going far from this town as we can get. I’m taking you on a road trip, we’re going to go the beach.” He says, looking off wistfully.

“The beach?” You ask, a smile on your face.

“Hell yeah. I need to see you in a bikini and know that everyone wants you but you’re all mine.” He says casually, his thumb rubbing your shoulder as he talks softly to you. “I would pack us a picnic for the ride, and mindlessly drool while you eat some watermelon. I would purposefully forget napkins but its ok, because I can help lick the juice off.”

“You…you put a lot of thought into this.” You whisper to him, dreaming of hot days on the beach a few thousand miles away from Hawkins.

“Well, I had a lot of time.” Eddie admits.

“I just want to lie down with you.” You admitted, knowing you weren’t even hopeful enough to want the beach you had just wanted to be with him. “I want to fall asleep, with you, and wake up with college being my biggest stressor.”

He gulps, the smile on his face slightly faded. “God, I would’ve followed—”

You interrupt him, shaking your head. “No. Don’t. We’re planning. What are you going to do?”

Eddie smiles softly, biting back laughter. “Sweetheart it don’t matter, you already know.”

You nodded shakily, beaming at him. He grabs your face into a fierce kiss, and there’s a part of you wondering of the salt water you tasted were his tears or your own. You separate, brushing your hands against his cheeks. He pulls you in for a hug, and you giggle involuntarily as he squeezes you so tightly.

Behind you, a cough. It was loud and firm.

“Hmm?”

“You’re cute n’ all but—” Dustin gags, pretending to throw up. “Too much.”

“I expected less of this when we were partnered up, you know? Just a moment of peace?”

Dustin shoots a toothy grin, shaking his head. “Nah.”

Eddie shrugs, knowing better than to expect such from him.

Lucas’ attention seems far from this conversation. “They should’ve been back by now.”

“When did they go in?” Eddie asks, his face growing serious again.

“Ten minutes ago.” Lucas answers, suspicion thick in his voice.

“Shit.” Dustin swears, getting up to pace.

Dustin and Lucas go back and forth on reasons they could be taking longer as the time continues to pass. Dustin checks his watch for the umpteenth time asking, “What the hell is taking so long?”

On cue, Steve bursts through the door, tossing a bag to Eddie promptly.

“What happened?” Lucas asks.

“Gotta go.” Steve answers, sitting directly into his seat.

Erica bursts through, holding a big brown bag. “Your old friends are here.” She answers, staring directly to Lucas.

“Shit!” Lucas swears.

Robin, Nancy, and Max run into the motor home, and before everyone was sat down Steve was being urged by several people to start driving. He shouts back, “I’m going, I’m going! Sit down!”

Eddie puffs his cheeks out in a big breath of “Oh, shit.”

On your way out Jason Carver stares off in frustration, ignoring the large motor home that near misses them on the way out of the parking lot.

-

Somewhere down the road between the War Zone and Hawkins Steve took a turn off to stay out of sight but have the open space required to make the weapons. Hammers, gasoline, a shot gun with a saw, sticks to tie to dazzlingly sharp knives all emptied out of the brown paper grocery bags.

Not to mention several axes and two stolen garbage can lids.

As all the crap was scattered about, jobs were naturally delegated two at a time, having teams partner up to create each specific firearm. Lucas and Erica sat to make the spears for Eddie and Dustin. Eddie and Dustin make armed shields out of nails and metal garbage lids. Nancy with the help of Max, set up a place to saw off the long end of a shot gun. Lastly, Robin, you, and Steve sit in front of the motor home to create the literal fire on demand.

Any possible ‘seats’ you could’ve used were in the form of crates the motor home’s cluster of random junk they assorted. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it still beat the itchiness of the tall grass in front of you.

As you sat down with Robin and Steve, both working on dowsing the gasoline cloths together, and you find yourself all too distracted. You watch absentmindedly as Eddie rough houses into Dustin, enjoying the smile you’ve seen back on his face. As much as Dustin tries to get Eddie on the ground, Eddie’s strength proves mighty in comparison.

You finally glance away from them, starting to prepare the other gasoline cans for battle. As you sit there, Robin and Steve finally tell you a piece of gossip they’ve been looking for a moment to share with you.

Steve didn’t seem to wrap his mind around Vickie being in a relationship with a boy, he was so convinced that her pause on Fast Times was evidence that she was also into girls.

You thought it was the way she dressed that gave it away, but Steve was unconvinced.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Steve continues his train of thought from earlier, having picked up different conversations since then.

“What doesn’t make sense?” Robin asks, not caught up with him.

“That was Dan Shelter. He graduated, like, two years ago.”

“So?” Robin prompts him.

“So, he’s in college. Which means he was visiting on spring break. Fast Times was returned, like, I don’t know, a week ago? Right? Unless she’s got some horndog brother we don’t know about. Which is possible.” As Steve continues to ramble on to himself Robin keeps to herself, and Robin letting Steve ramble is not a common occurrence. “Or she’s just really into Judge Reinhold?”

“Steve.” Robin interrupts him, having enough.

“Nah…” he drifts off, then realizes Robin called out for him.

“I don’t care. I don’t understand why do either with everything that’s going on. Honestly, this feels like a perfect time for that little pull of the rug because…”

As Robin continues talking, a gut feeling that’s been sitting in the pit of your stomach comes to the forefront.

“…in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feels spectacularly low.”

“Yeah, I mean, I get you there, but… I still have hope.” Steve responds, somewhat optimistic, it seems.

“Not everything has a happy ending.” Robin tells him, adding a new bottle to the growing collection. You hand over a bottle to Steve as he grabs for it, him acknowledging you as he does.

“Yeah, yeah, believe me, I know.” He says, somewhat bitter about his own.

With everything prepared for them, you sit cross legged by Steve’s legs, the only one out of the bunch who opted to sit in the tall grass.

“Y/N?” Robin asks, seeing the pinch between your brows.

You sigh, lifting your legs so they’re held up by your elbows with your hands clasped in front of you. “Robin?”

“Care to help me out?”

“She’s not talking about failed romance, Steve.” You answer, and Robin knows you’re on the same wavelength. You turn your head to look back at Eddie and Dustin play fighting in the field. “I can’t speak for anyone else, here, but I’ve been having this, terrible, mind numbing feeling that…” you gulp, you can’t even say it out loud.

“It might work out for us this time.” Robin finished your sentence, brave enough to admit what you couldn’t even find it in yourself to think.

“You guys think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve asks, his voice hosting a level of doubt you don’t often hear.

“We’re absolutely bonkers.” You add, and it felt like Robin admitting what you were afraid to outloud had created a tight anxiety in your chest.

“We’re mad. The lot of us.” Robin agrees, also looking out. “But…if we don’t stop them, who will?” She asks, and unfortunately that is the caveat. If you, the only crowd of misfits that has any idea what is behind all of this are the only ones who can stop him, how could you not? “We have to try, right?”

“Yeah.” You turn around to face them. “To killing Vecna,” Steve toasts.

“Slash Henry.” Robin adds, also holding a bottle.

“Hey.” You nudge, reaching for one across them. Robin hands you one, and you insert a bottle in. “Slash One.”

-

By the time Eddie finishes roughing it with Dustin, he’s a damn mess, covered in sweat. It might’ve been hot if he had showered in the last few days. Who’s kidding, it was hot regardless.

This brought up a question you had. “Uh, are we going into battle wearing the same thing we have been wearing for the last two days?” You ask out loud.

“Funny you should mention that.” Steve answers, and he runs into the Motor home to grab a last bag he had, something he asked Erica to help him with, Battlefield clothes.

It felt odd getting dressed because it meant you were really going into another battle. It sucked, because none of those times did you know it was the final battle, but this felt…final.

An air was just different in the motor home. Any jokes, any attempts to fuse the tension have long gone home. The weight of how much was riding on you to win and beat him is a stupidly large dark cloud over looming everyone.

Never necessarily felt like the end of the world before, just Hawkins.

This is world ending.

High stakes, higher risks.

No one says a damn word.

You pull up to the Creel House so Erica, Lucas, and Max can jump out. Max doesn’t even say a word as she turns to shut the door, and there’s a part of you that wished you didn’t see the worry on her face as you pulled away.

Your throat felt tight as you started the drive to Eddie’s trailer, and you look over your shoulder to catch his eye.

He glances at you, his eyes torn from Dustin’s face of utter worry. I love you, you mouth to him, Eddie blinks slowly at you, tilting his head. I love you, he mouths back.

You turn around, facing forward to see that they had arrived right behind Eddie’s trailer park.

Great.

Chapter Nine: The Piggyback

As the Motor home is placed into park, Nancy gets up by the door to go over the plan once more. There’s a small temptation to roll your eyes at it, but anything to procrastinate leaving the false safety net that is the trailer.  

“Okay. I wanna run through it one more time.” Nancy starts to pace through the trailer. “Phase one.”

“We meet Erica at the playground.” Robin answers her. “She’ll signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready.”

“Phase two.”

“Max baits Vecna. He’ll go after her, which’ll put him in his trance.” Steve answers.

“Phase three?”

“Me and Eddie draw the bats away.” Dustin answers, and Eddie clutches onto Dustin’s shoulder fondly.

“Phase four.”

“We head into Vecna’s bat-free lair, and…we light him up.” You answer, your breath hitching. “Though I still don’t see why I—”

“You’re going with them.” Eddies interrupts you, jolting your attention to his soft eyes. “You’ve already argued this to death. Sorry, I know. But it makes most sense for you to go with them...two shields n’ all.”

You sigh, defeated.

“Nobody moves on to the next phase until we’ve all copied.” She continues like you hadn’t even spoken. “Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?”

“Got it.” You all answer, moving your way out the door one by one.

Your footsteps running to Eddie’s trailer were all light and fast, the last thing you needed was to be seen by one of his neighbours. As you walk into Eddie’s trailer, the rope still hanging, Steve is already getting ready to pull off somewhat of an acrobatic move.

“Be careful.” Dustin pleads, no ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

“Thanks buddy.” Steve says, patting him lightly. He hops to the rope, starting a climb. “Here goes nothing.” He sighs, mentally preparing himself.

As Steve reaches the threshold to the Upside Down, he pauses, taking a few deep breaths and using the gravity his body was in to lurch into a summersault. He lands gracefully, looking up to say ta da.

You stood by Nancy and Robin, all watching his pose. Robin leans into you both, asking “Wow, what does he want us to do, applaud?”

Steve pulls the mattress over in record time for a landing pad, no time to waste. “All right.” He calls out. “Let’s go.”

Yay. You get to go back in again. On purpose.

Nancy starts, taking her backpack off and Robin allows her to use her knee as a stepping stool. Nancy doesn’t waste much time, the climb fast and the drop sudden. You take off your bag, and Robin puts it to the side. “What, no stepping stool?” You ask her, and Robin rolls her eyes.

“Here.” Eddie offers, and you gladly take the offer.

Your climb is much faster this time, and the lurch onto the landing pad isn’t as new, but it still felt fucking weird.

Steve offers a hand up, and you’re only standing for a half a second when yours, Nancy’s, Steve’s, and Robin’s bags make their way across as well.

Eddie comes next, lurching himself into the Upside Down with as much force as he did last time, the wind visibly knocked out of him. He’s barely given a chance to recollect himself Steve offers a hand.

Eddie’s shield is sent, Robin decidedly coming next. As she lands after a quick climb, you and Eddie extend your hands to her, and she accepts.

Dustin is left to send one bag and the two makeshift spears before he makes the trip for the first time. As someone who’s greatest strengths aren’t exactly in athleticism it took him a minute to climb and get across, but as soon as he does, he sits up quickly to catch his breath.

No one gives him that moment, yanking him by the grey sweater to get off his ass.

All the gear is moved around appropriately, Nancy putting the gun on her back, Eddie taking some wires out of your bag, etc. As soon as everyone goes through a quick check list Nancy opens the door back into the red lightning, determined as ever. You follow behind Steve, a pit in your stomach as you know the moment is seconds away.

Eddie and Dustin follow behind, the door slamming behind them.

“Hey, guys, listen.” Steve starts, nearly stumbling into you as he turns around. You accept his apology and drift off to side to let him do his thing. “If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort.” You nod next to him, your face serious. Eddie’s eyes drift to yours for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna.” Dustin rolls his eyes at the dramatics, used to it by now.

“Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just—”

“Decoys.” Dustin finishes the sentence with him, exasperated. “Don’t worry. You can be the hero, Steve.”

“Absolutely.” Eddie agrees, humour in his voice. “I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Eddie says, glancing next to him.

Steve accepts it, but you didn’t.

“Hey.” You say, pulling focus and ignoring your audience for a moment. “Listen. Don’t be a hero.” You emphasize to Eddie, swallowing the emotions that threaten to pour out to him.

Eddie nods like he already understood what you meant.

“No. I know you, Munson. You come back to me.”

Eddie gulps, his face losing any sense of humour it just had. You gulp as well, following as Nancy and Robin are starting to lead the group the other way.

You start to when Eddie calls, “Hey Steve?”

Steve turns around, and you can’t find it in yourself to face him again and still follow them.

“Make him pay.” Eddie says, and Steve doesn’t respond, but you could feel the tension from the nuance of what he had just said.

Their pace picks up and you’re right behind them when your body can’t seem to take another step with out doing one last thing. Nancy notices you’ve stopped walking, and when she’s about to ask you’ve already dropped the bag and the flashlight in your hand to sprint to him.

Eddie already knew what you were doing, as soon as you turned around he dropped his shield, preparing himself to catch you.

He does, effortlessly. You breathe him in as his arms engulf you, and this just made it ten times worse but all worth the while. “I love you.” You tell him, just loud enough that you’re not even sure he heard you.

“I love you.” He says it like a promise.

You couldn’t help yourself despite the inappropriateness of it. You kissed him. Just one taste. Just something. He kissed you just as fiercely.

As you separate, he opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t even let him.

No goodbyes.

You walk away from him, starting into a half jog when Steve is ushering you to hurry up. You fling your bag back on and pick up the flashlight, now matching the pace next to Steve as you make your way to the Creel House.

-

As you wonder through the forest towards the Creel House things are eerily quiet until Robin finally speaks up.

“Uh…I don’t mean to freak anyone out, but I swear we’ve seen this tree before.” She claims, pointing to specifically curvy little tree.

“That’s impossible.” Nancy answers her.

“That would suck, right?” Robin asks, rhetorical. “If Vecna destroyed the world because…’cause we got lost in the woods?”

“We’re not lost, Robin.” You tell her, and she bites out a sarcastic laugh. She starts running ahead, and you follow behind her.

“Robin, hey.” Nancy starts. “Watch out for the vines, guys! Hive mind! Remember?”

“Thank you!” Robin answers, and you follow just behind her to make sure she doesn’t lose her mind.

You end up following her, your lungs giving you shit for it. “Robin, slow down!” You call out to her. “Aren’t you supposed to be the clutzy one? How are you running this fast?”

“Fear.” She responds without missing a beat. “Mostly just the fear of being lost in the woods before we can save the world that keeps eating my brain.” She sounds out of breath, but she keeps trekking.

“Ugh!” You grunt in frustration but follow her anyway, despite a part of you begging to give your lungs a break.

Robin lets out a shout of accomplishment, and you see her coming back just as fast. “Found it!” She declares and passes right by you to run to Steve and Nancy.

You stop, finally, catching your breath. What the hell did you wind yourself before you got to the battle for? Hopefully Vecna wasn’t gunning for a on-foot chase.

“Hey guys!” You hear her voice echo. “You guys! Awesome news! Looks like we weren’t going the wrong way after all.”

You don’t a hear a response, and there’s a beat before Robin ushers them to follow her.

“Okay, jeez!” Robin starts running back towards you, and how is she not out of breath? “Ro…Show down! Ro…Robin!” Steve calls out to her as she starts to pass you.

As soon as she reaches you, you start walking again, having spent the last three minutes trying to catch your breath with your hands on your knees. Before long you’re navigating through some low and very prickly branches to view the Creel House in all it’s Upside Down glory. Damn, did those bats give you the chills.

Steve and Robin scanned the scene, looking for a specific orange glow. They spot it on the rocket on the outdoor playground. “Erica.”

-

Signal you give Erica is immediately met with a flashing signal. Feels like forever when Lucas finally signals back the message is copied.

“Okay, the lovebirds have copied, Max is Moving into phase two: Distracting Vecna.” Erica’s voice echoes.

“So far, so smooth.” Robin comments.

“Yeah, we’re not even at the hard part yet.” Steve adds on.

Nancy is busy like she has for the last ten minutes, dead focused on the Creel House. “Take the bait, you son of a bitch.” She urges quietly. “Take. The bait.”

It’s not like Vecna could particularly hear her, but it felt necessary.

It’s a waiting game. Max barely survived her last encounter with Vecna and this time she’s going in full throttle.

This is the worst thing to wait for.

“Okay, she’s in. Initiate phase three.” Erica’s voice echoes out of nowhere.

“She’s in. Move on to phase three.” Robin walkies not one second after Erica copies.

“Copy that. Initiating phase three.” Dustin’s voice answers on the walkie.  

Less than a minute later you can vaguely hear a guitar rocking out in the distance.

You remain crouched down right by the play set, waiting for a hint of the idea that phase 3 is working.

“Damn, is….is that Master of Puppets?” Steve asks you, his brow furrowed.

You had a bit of a knowledge of Heavy Metal bands by now, but you could barely tell just from the guitar riff alone. “If it is, that’s definitely his sense of humour.” You mutter, listening with a half smile. “He plays a lot to himself, but I haven’t had a chance to see him at the Hideout yet.”

“Haven’t had a chance?” Steve asks, incredulous.

You shrug, not having an excuse. “We didn’t get out much.” You admit, and it suddenly makes sense why Eddie insisted you go to the beach.

A shrill sound suddenly catches your attention, no less than a few hundred demo-bats flying over you to protect against the source of the sound.

“Okay, it’s working.” Nancy mutters. “Let’s go.”

Nancy leads the march into the Creel House, your heart beating out of your chest in sheer anticipation. Whatever Eddie and Dustin were continuing to do after the sounds of the guitar faded seemed to work, not a demo-bat in sight as you open the door to a house riddled in Vecna’s vines. When you thought Eddie’s trailer looked bad, this seemed like nothing in comparison.

You, Robin, Nancy, and Steve go one by one up the stairs to Vecna, a sense of purpose in each step as you aim for the wood between the vines. Steve offers his hand as each one of you make the top of the stairs after him over a particularly wide vine. At long last, the weapons are coming out to play. Robin hands you a bottle and her lighter, Steve grabs his axe, and Nancy holds her incomplete shotgun.

As you attempt to move forward an earthquake rumbles, this one bigger than ever, causing all four of you to huddle up, clutching on to one another so none of you end up falling over, and God forbid, onto one of the vines.

There’s a moment of relief, looking at one another as it passed.

The moment is too short, Robin looking down to a vine slowly making its way around her foot. She barely gets any time to respond, the vine tripping her. She lands onto it, yelping and it pulls her up against the wall. She was up there, too.

The vines continue moving around her, pinning her extremities down and around her neck. Robin calls out, voice full of panic. “Nancy!”

Your attempt at running to her aide is cut short, despite her not necessarily calling out to you. Nancy leans in, beating the vines with the butt of her gun, and before you could even attack it one by your foot gets a hold of you, dragging you on the front of your stomach and legs across the hall and strapping you up against the wall directly facing Robin.

“Oh shi—” you call out, the breath stolen from your lungs. You couldn’t even finish, a vine wrapping itself around your mouth to prevent any yelling…or breathing.

Steve turns quickly to your aide, attempting to use his axe against the vine that attacked you. A vine retaliates by grabbing at it, causing a tug of war between Steve and the vine. The axe is yanked out of his grasp, and three of the vines forcefully tug Steve five feet off the ground by the neck and waist.

Nancy hears Steve’s struggle, turning up in horror as Steve is dragged up to the wall. The floor is stolen right from under Nancy, the vine yanking her by one foot, as she barely manages to escape another one slithers down and across her stomach, yanking her up by the wall at an angle.

Each one of you is now pinned hopelessly against the wall, the vines wrapping themselves to immobilize the four of you. As the vine wrapped around your mouth slowly suffocates you, you can only hear Robin, Nancy, and Steve audibly choking.

Is…is this it?

-

It only takes a few seconds.

From going up the stairs deliberately, to pinned against the wall with no oxygen to speak of, it only takes a few seconds.

It only takes a few seconds.

From running to safety to chopping his only way out, it only takes a few seconds.

Eddie ignored every call for him to stop from Dustin. He ignored the echoes of your voice telling him not to be a hero. He ignored the gnawing feeling at the back of his mind…

He looks up to Dustin’s distressed face, picking up the shield and his weapon. “I’m buying more time.” He says, and runs head first into the swarm.

He picks up the bike he once dropped and starts on it, peddling as fast as his legs would let him. He gets a good minute of biking in, looking back and letting out his war cry.

Dustin uses all his strength to come after Eddie, severely injuring his left leg in the process.

His bike loses its footing. Eddie scrambles to his feet, one hundred percent bent on making his way back.

Back to you.

Then…

I didn’t know what to do, so I… I… I ran away.

I just ran, and I left her there.

I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.

He couldn’t run away. Not again. Not when for once in his life he could confront it, head on.

He breathes, mentally preparing himself. It…only takes a second.

His shield is pounded by his spear rhythmically, egging the bats on.

They charge after him. It’s not long before they surround him in a tornado, and he watched in awe, his heart painfully and eerily still. A few dive in after him, and he successfully thwarts them.

It only takes a second before one gets its tail around his neck. Others follow suit, grabbing arms…and legs.

Others dive in for his torso.

Dustin yells out after him, watching the scene unfold.

As his flesh tears, Eddie can only yell in pain.

It only took a second.

-

As your vision started to blur the vines around your neck suddenly loosen, letting the four of you fall to your knees. You blink as oxygen returns to you, the other three coughing from the vines being wrapped around their necks. You watch in awe as the vines retreat.

“I don’t believe in a higher power or divine intervention. But that was a miracle.” Robin breathes out, her breathing wheezy from the constant choking.

“Then we better not waste it.” Nancy declares, determined as ever now that you somehow escaped the clutches of Vecna’s vines. She cocks her shotgun.

“Phase four.” Steve manages out, still catching his breath.

“We light him up.” You finish, grabbing one of the bottles from Robin.

You approach Vecna’s room, seeing him held up by his vines and in a trance, completely vulnerable. You hold up the bottle to Steve, he grabs it from you and you ignite it with the lighter you grabbed earlier. Steve throws the bottle to Vecna, it lands perfectly on his chest as his whole-body catches fire. Vecna screams aloud, and he falls directly to the floor amid these new flames.

Vecna only writhes for a fraction of a second before standing up and facing you head on, somehow intimidating while simultaneously burning alive. You passed the lighter to Robin, allowing her to light up a new bottle and thrust another one to his chest. He falters back, and while you watch him charge forward, Nancy takes the moment to step forward herself, gun aimed.

She shoots, the barrel hitting his shoulder.

She cocks it and she shoots again without hesitation, hitting his lower stomach and causing him to fall back. Nancy shoots again, and again.

Vecna attempts to come at her, but he falters back as the weight of the fire, Hop’s sword wielding, and Nancy’s shots all in one. He lets out a howl, something from the depths of hell.

Nancy lets nothing about it falter her. She snarls her upper lip, letting Vecna know he can go where to back he came from.

Her finger pulls the trigger a final time and it causes Vecna to fall backwards through the wooden panels up against the window to the attic. She lowers the gun, turning back to face all three as you attempt to catch your breath.

You all run to where he supposedly fell, seeing nothing but ash and an empty space where Vecna should’ve been.

What now?

-

I think it’s my hear, Henderson.

I think it’s finally my year.

I love you, man.

-

It’s silent. None of you know any of what’s happening…neither Dustin, Eddie, nor Erica are copying back on the walkie.

The clock chimes from in the Creel House, and you catch up to it on it’s last and fourth chime. “Four chimes.” Nancy breathes, and the air is sucked right out of your lungs when you understand. “Max.”

You, Robin, and Steve stare at one another with bug eyes, wondering if its real life when the ground shakes under your feet violently. It’s not just the Upside Down, this time.

Eddie’s trailer, the roadside, the lake, and Vecna’s house are all ripped apart, the earth falling into it from several feet away. The only thing you can do is hang on to the bottom of the stair well, shaking around like beads in a damn maraca.

After God knows how long the ground finally ceases.

You get grab a hold of the banister and start running as fast as your legs could carry you through the forest.

Vecna had disappeared, but had apparently succeeded in his mission to kill four people, to kill Max. These were important details, but none compared to the most important.

The mission failed, time to regroup, assess damages and go from there.

Namely, time to regroup.

They all called after you, following behind by a few feet as you ignored them. They finally realized where you were headed, the path clear to them.

As you reached the park, you head straight for the trailer but someone calling your name stops you.

It wasn’t Robin, Nancy, or Steve from behind you.

It wasn’t Eddie either.

You look to the source, facing Dustin hobbling slowly towards you, with what appears to be an injured leg. Your concern for the injury fades into the back of your mind when you see his face. The glossy eyes, the runny nose.

Panic is already invaded your chest.

“I’m sorry.” Dustin chokes out, his voice thick with tears.

“Where is he?” You ask, needing the proof yourself.

“There was nothing I could do.” He continues, attempting to keep you from taking a step further.

Your teeth clench like your life depends on it. You stride to where Dustin was hobbling from and the glimpse of what you see when you go around the corner unmistakably shatters you.

Steve runs up to you, now catching wind to the situation as soon as the broken sob escapes your throat. You attempt to run to him, but Steve holds you back, and the pain is so sharp you can’t even tell what he’s saying to you.

You fight him off, tears flowing down your cheeks like a water fall and you’re crying so hard you can’t breathe.

You find yourself on your knees, bent over, clutching your chest as someone, you don’t know who, attempted to give you comfort despite this being one of the worst times to break down like this.

You don’t recall actually saying much, but the word No seemed to run through your head like a damn mantra. You had half a mind to push Dustin and demand what happened and why did he let him do something so stupid, but the only thing that escapes you is more full throttle chest sobs.

He can’t be gone.

He was just here.

He was just here.

-

Your friends wished they could’ve said they let you calm down when they finally managed to escort you from the Upside Down.

Given they didn’t exactly have the privilege, nor was time theirs to give for the moment, Steve tugs you up and lets you sob into his shoulder as he walks you over to what is less of a snack-size gate. You crawl your way through the gaping hole of what used to be his trailer. It was all too much, seeing his home ripped to shreds.

As your blinders go down, you saw the entire town engulfed in flames. Your sobs became hiccups, the pain still unbearable but there was no room for your grief when so much of your down is absolutely ruined.

Steve uses the motor home to drive you and the rest of the team to their respective houses, the only thing to do was to go home, get changed and figure out what came next.

On the way to your house, Steve keeps looking at you in the rear view, and you barely notice as you watch the outside in shock. He pulls up to your house first, despite passing Robin’s on the way.

Steve gets up and walks to you, and takes a deep breath in. “He died a hero. He saved most of the town. That’s what you tell her.” He states, knowing whether he was gentle wouldn’t make a difference to your mood.

Not that you particularly cared for his tone for the moment. You look up at him, your eyes shrouded over in grief. “This town hat—” you manage out, your words barely leaving your mouth through the thickness of your voice. You just nod, tears leaving the pair of eyes that already hurt from crying so hard.

You get up from your seat, mindlessly walking to the door and down the steps.

You make your way up the path, refusing to let any memories of him bubble to the surface, despite him the only thing on your mind. Steve asked if you were gonna be ok, but you barely registered it.

Before your hand reaches the door knob your mom opens the door. And before she could even ask what was wrong, another broken sob leaves your chest as lurch into her arms.

You cried for an hour before she could even get a word in, edgewise.

-

The police eventually reach your door, stopping by for rounds to make sure your family was ok for supplies and then told its not mandated but it is suggested to leave town. As you walk around the corner from grabbing a piece of toast just to stop your stomach from begging for more food, the officer at the door takes note of your presence.

“Oh, Miss. L/N! We’ve been attempting to get a hold of you to ask whether whereabouts of your current boyfriend, but we have not been able to get a hold of you.” He asks casually, like he wasn’t going to go arrest him.

You gulp, looking him dead in the eyes and say, “He died. In the earthquake.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Mmhm.” You mutter, and your body somehow carries itself upstairs.

Your body spends time either in full pain mode or none. You refused to sleep in your own room, it was filled to the brim of memories of him that you didn’t need a reminding of. You had even attempted to spend all your time watching whatever your father had chosen to watch, but the words ‘Munson Murders’ on the news sent you seeing red as you stomped up the stairs.

After lying in the spare bed for a good portion of the day your doorbell rings.

Your mom calls your name after answering. You didn’t even bother responding.

There’s a knock on the door the door opened after the third one, Steve and Robin walking right in with Dustin on their tail.

Dustin couldn’t even come through the door, and there’s a shred of empathy that understands how guilty he must’ve felt.

“Hey. We’re going to the school to drop off and help with donations. Come with us.” Steve says, walking over to bend to your level.

You squint at him through your watery eyes. You sniffed. “I don’t think I’m the best person to be volunteering for the affected, Steve.”

Robin comes up to the side as well. “We know you lost him. And that- there’s no words to describe how much it sucks. But there are a lot of people in Hawkins who lost everything.”

“Are you telling me that people have it worse, so I should just get over it?”

“That’s the opposite of what we’re saying.” Steve claims. “we’re saying they’ll understand loss. There are other people who died in this earthquake you won’t be the only one mourning.”

“It wasn’t an earthquake.” You whisper, going underneath your blanket. You almost don’t make it under your covers to hide the violet sob that threatened to leave your lips.

They let you breathe for a moment.

The blanket is ripped off you, Robin yanking you out of bed.

She places some clothes on the bed. “Put these on, meet us outside.”

If you could’ve, you would’ve laughed. As they leave, you request they send in Dustin.

Dustin walks in with the help of a cane. He doesn’t look you in the eye, only the floorboards.

“I don’t blame you.” You whisper, shaking your head. “At first, maybe. I don’t even remember you telling me what happened, but I do know. He chopped it and ran, yeah?” Dustin nods shakily. “That was his choice. His stupid, fucking choice that he made about his own life. Not yours. I don’t blame you.” Dustin shoots you smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t blame yourself either, right?” You ask him. “Cause it’s not your fault.”

A tear falls down Dustin’s face and he wipes it away hastily.

“Dustin. It’s not your fault.”

Dustin gulps awkwardly and tells you he’ll meet you outside. Somehow, the interaction with Dustin convinced you to go with them. You nodded, implying you’ll be right there. Before he leaves, he turns around awkwardly. “Uh, thank you. I needed that.”

You nod in response, slowly shutting the door.

 You turn to face the clothes Robin has picked out for you, a pair of jeans with one of his shirts. You appreciated the sentiment but threw his shirt holding your breath to refuse the smell as you walk into your room to grab a different one.

You weren’t quite there yet.

As you run down the stairs you tell your mom you’re going to help at the High School. Steve and Robin promised you were only going to the gym and would be avoiding the real building for you at any cost.

On the way Dustin mentioned that El, Mike, Will, Johnathan and some buy named Argyle were in town, having made a long two-day trip from the middle of the desert. You gulped, watching outside as Steve drove to the school. You ask how Max was, having received the news from your mom after you had finally calmed down enough to talk.

You still hadn’t seen her, the guilt cutting through you like a knife. Not that you didn’t care about her, you just wanted to be able to stand for five minutes without the mere thought of him eating you from the outside.

She wasn’t any better or worse…which is good, you guessed.

You finally pull in and open the trunk to three boxes. Dustin attempts to carry one, but you take it from him instead, refusing his protests.

As shitty as you felt, seeing the gym filled to the brim with cots and people seeking necessities actually did put things into perspective for you. As long as you grieved, at least you grieved him in the privacy of your home. You see the missing persons reports posted, your throat tightening when you catch a glimpse of the graffiti on his.

You didn’t have it in you to take it down. Didn’t want to make a scene.

There were people in a med bay on oxygen, for Christ’ sake.

Robin greeted the volunteer kindly, pointing out each box and its respective belongings.

When the volunteer offers a tax receipt, Robin politely declines and in turn, offers the four of you for volunteer work. You’re ushered away into giving water with Dustin, Steve to the clothes, and Robin is making sandwiches.

As Dustin is making his rounds, he notices someone pull up to his poster and switch out the graffitied one for a new one. You’re talking with one of the affected about something when he calls out to you, nodding to him.

A pang hits your chest as you see Wayne holding a whole file of missing posters for him.

“I’m sorry, I just see someone I know.” You tell her, and she gracefully lets you go, seeing the gloss appear in your eyes as you do. As much as you didn’t tell her, she could tell you had lost something as well.

Dustin hesitates in approaching him, but you help cross the threshold for him. “W-Wayne?” You stumble out.

He recognises your voice, turning to face you as soon as your voice hits his ears. “Oh, bless the Lord.” He mutters as he pulled you into a hug.

You grit your teeth to stop a sob from leaving, a tear falling down each cheek as you involuntarily breathe in his cologne.

You are breathing heavy when he lets go, and he notices your disposition. “What’s wrong?” He asks you apprehensively.

You gulp, the words can’t even escape your lips. “Where is he?” He asks you, and the tears falling down your face is an answer in itself. He pulls you in again, this time you hear sniffles coming from him as well, the heat of his tears hitting your shoulders. This was someone who raised the person you have loved for five months. His pain must’ve been…unimaginable. “What-what happened?” He asks, pulling a way from you..

“He…” you gulp, “he died in the earthquake. I wasn’t with him.”

“I was.” Dustin chokes out, holding out the chain for him. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Oh. That’s why Dustin refused.

Of course, you fucking narcissist.

Wayne sits down on one of the cots, clutching onto the chain like his life depended on it, attempting to hide his grief in a sea of people that believed his nephew was responsible for the problem to begin with.

Dustin manages to hobble right beside Wayne on the cot. “I…I wish everyone had gotten to know him. Really know him. Because they would’ve loved him, Mr. Munson. They would’ve loved him. Even in the end… he never stopped being Eddie.” That was the first time you heard his name in over 48 hours. You wouldn’t even allow yourself to think it. “Despite everything. I never even saw him get mad.” Your brow admittedly quirked at this, because could name five times you’ve seen him get mad in his last two days off by heart. The memories seem to cut through like a knife.

“He could’ve run. He could’ve saved himself. But he fought. He fought and died to protect this town. This town that… hated him.” A detail that still gets your anger phase of your grief revved up until you start crying in anger again, but you had to let it slide because this wasn’t technically about your grief. “He isn’t just innocent… Mr. Munson he’s… he’s a hero.”

A choked-out sob leaves your lips, same as Wayne. Your hand slaps across your mouth to mute it, trying not to draw any attention to yourself. Dustin leaves Wayne alone, letting him sit in his own grief.

After about five minutes Wayne wraps you in a tighter hug than before, and he whispers, “Thank you. You gave my boy life.”

By extension, by bringing him to Upside Down…did it mean…you took it away, as well?

You didn’t let out that part, let the tears fall as he continually embraced you. “Can I help with anything? You have a place to stay?”

Wayne shakes his head, refusing your help. You had a feeling he would, but knew he appreciated the offer regardless. “Sunshine?”

You turn around from where you were walking back for another volunteer position.

“Please call me every now and then, yeah? I need to know that you’re okay.” He asks, and you nod shakily.

Maybe you’ll break out an old t-shirt of his.  

-

Funny how losing someone as close as he was does the end of the world compare.

However, the phone call you had received that night was enough to get you to drive a half a mile out of town and to phone call’s origin.

The cabin opens with El standing in the doorway, her hair all buzzed off and a smile sitting on her face. You walk in, the cabin crowded. Suddenly you felt foolish as you realized how much you were missing.

Hop was…there. Living, breathing. Thinner.

He looks like he went through hell to get back, but he was grinning on the couch, arm around Joyce.

When Joyce sees you, her face lights up. She gets up immediately, throwing her arms around you. Felt warm.

“Oh my sweet girl. I’m so sorry about him.” Her eyes full of sincerity as she looks into yours.

Tears come back, and you breathe through them. “I missed you.” You admit, and Joyce lets out a chuckle as she hugs you again.

“So is anyone gonna tell me how—” you point to Hopper.

“Long story.” About four or five people chirp out. Well, you’ll find out one day.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” You tell Joyce, noting everyone has already made their way back to sit down and enjoy the company of the Byers and the extras that came with them.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You gulp at the nickname. “It’s so okay. It’s only been two days. As far as I see it you’re so strong.”

God it was nice to have her back.

“Family Video is caput.” Robin says as you walk up to them.

“We seriously need to find new jobs?” You ask her, your eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Steve asks as you scooch in-between them.

“If you asked me yesterday, I would’ve said no.” You admit, watching the grainy tv set in front of you. You look around at the people who all risked their lives to get to the point where Vecna was burning right in front of you.

“And now?”

“Still no. But it’s nice to have some company.”

-

Thanks for reading! Remember reblogging and commenting really means the world to me I read every single one <3

taglist: @emturtles @yourthebrokengirl @steeldaisies @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley

[the-last-kenobi]

I love your writing so much!! If you’re still taking requests, could you do 9 with Obi-Wan and Anakin?

Thank you!! <3 And of course! I hope you enjoy.

From this various prompts list.

Set after The Wrong Jedi arc. And it’s way... way longer than I meant it to be. Whoops. I told myself, make this one short. Actually a prompt fill. And then I laughed at myself and wrote a fic and I don’t know exactly how long it is because I was too scared to look at the word count.

I tagged it as long post so I hope those of you who aren’t in the mood for my rambling bs are as to skip it!

I will add a reading cut when I get my hands on a laptop.

_

When Skywalker stormed into the training bay, his fists clenched by his sides, troopers scattered out of his way like silver-fish before a Bloodfin.

Even without Force-sensitivity, it was impossible to miss the potent fury rolling off the young General in waves, almost visible on the air, scalding anyone who got too near. His eyes glided right over the Clones, however, and fixed on a single figure standing alone on a mat, performing a slow exercise.

Anakin strode over to the edge of the mat and stamped his foot on the edge, twisting it a few inches just as the other man’s foot came back down from a stretch. He slipped. At the last second he caught himself, turning on the spot to regain his balance.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan spoke calmly, as if nothing had just happened. As if his friend wasn’t glaring at him with rage and disdain.

“A duel,” said Anakin, in a tone that brokered no argument.

General Kenobi’s face tightened slightly. But he nodded graciously and summoned his lightsaber to his hands, drawing backwards towards the opposite wall and raising his blue blade in a low Soresu opening.

Skywalker waited only half a second before launching himself at the other man in a blur of blue light and red-hot anger.

Cody, watching from the wall, clasped his hands behind his back as he watched the two Jedi spar at bewildering speeds.

Dizzying swirls of colliding blue light. Last-moment maneuvers, a blade hot as a sun missing moving limbs by inches. Skywalker always on the offensive. Kenobi always giving ground.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened slightly as his entire body trembled under the weight of a blow that could have removed his head from his shoulders had he not blocked it; his own serenity seemed to shrink in the face of Anakin’s fire and desperation.

There was a blur of motion, and Skywalker stood triumphant as Kenobi crashed to the floor with the younger man’s saber an inch from his chest.

Obi-Wan stared up at his friend. “Solah,” he whispered.

For a moment more, the scene hung suspended. The lightsaber burning close, too close, to Obi-Wan’s vulnerable body, Anakin looming over him with anger in his eyes.

Then Anakin turned and stalked out of the room, leaving his former Master on the floor with a faint scorch mark on his pale tunics.

“Sir.” Cody strode over to his General immediately and helped him to his feet, watching him wince, feeling a surge of helpless anger at the nagging realization that he had never anticipated a time when his General would be hurting because of Skywalker. “Sir.”

“Cody,” the Jedi said wearily. “I need to get up to the bridge.”

“You need to see Hoop,” said Cody, referring to the 212th’s medic.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No. We’re still two days out through hyperspace and we need to find a way to make contact with the ground troops on Ryloth before we go barging in.”

Cody clenched his jaw but assented, knowing that there was no dissuading his General, not now. He had just one more thing to say.

“General.” He waited until Kenobi looked at him. “You threw that fight.”

Obi-Wan inhaled slowly, a look of what his Commander recognized as pain — grief — flickering behind his blue eyes. “Anakin needed the win,” he said quietly.

=

The second time Anakin Skywalker stormed into the training bay, everyone moved aside to watch even before Obi-Wan had turned around to greet his former apprentice.

Men from the 501st and the 212th, thrown together on this joint mission as if to both aggravate and soothe the hurt of Ahsoka’s departure, stood side by side and watched as their Generals flung themselves into the fight as if lives depended on it.

As Kenobi let Skywalker take the offensive. As he let Skywalker come to the edge of victory again and again and then held him off at the last second.

As Anakin’s rage grew, as he began to resent Obi-Wan for dragging the battle out and denying Anakin the victory he craved and deserved. Holding him back as always.

As for the second time Kenobi threw the fight in a way that Anakin didn’t notice.

Letting him walk off with his rage dispersed for awhile, the relieved and triumphant victor, while the bruised and shaken loser climbed to his feet and went back to work with an air of gravity around him. As if Obi-Wan had absorbed the weight of his friend’s anger and carried it like a shroud.

Maybe he did.

=

The third time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by punching Obi-Wan in the face.

The fourth time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by burning his leg from hip to ankle.

The sixth time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by pressing his foot down on the other man’s throat almost to the point of unconsciousness.

The eighth time, he won by knocking Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his hands and driving him back against a wall with his own saber at Obi-Wan’s neck.

=

“You have to stop,” Hoop said.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “He... needs this.” A hiss escaped his lips as the medic dabbed bacta along the abrasion above his eye, the bacta he had tried to say he didn’t need.

“He needs a therapist and an ass kicking,” retorted Hoop, disregarding standard respect. He didn’t care about protocol in general, and certainly not when his General turned up every other day — usually dragged in by Cody — with bruises and cuts and strained muscles.

Obi-Wan only shook his head again.

=

Cody, Rex, Hoop, and many of the others had hoped that the battles on Ryloth would serve as a good outlet for General Skywalker.

They did.

But it wasn’t enough.

Fighting what felt like a futile war for the planet’s freedom, being back on Ryloth yet again, and the gaping hole in the 501st where Ahsoka had once stood only seemed to drive Skywalker’s pain upwards. And for Anakin, all emotions led to rage, eventually.

He could not stand the depths of his emotions, the dark days, the low times. If he was not happy, he chose rage over sorrow.

And there was so much sorrow.

=

There was a two-day reprieve after the campaign on Ryloth. Temporary victory had been purchased yet again with the blood of the natives and the GAR, and the 501st and 212th departed for another campaign halfway across the galaxy at once.

And for two days there was time to rest and think.

And then Anakin stalked into the training bay again. Not finding Obi-Wan, he waited for him, and as soon as the older Jedi entered the room, raised his lightsaber in an Ataru salute.

=

The thirteenth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, they dueled for over three hours, and both fell exhausted to the ground.

The nineteenth time, Anakin left Obi-Wan with a leg broken in two places. Cody had to physically restrain Hoop — and himself, frankly — from jumping General Skywalker and throttling him.

The twenty-eighth time, Obi-Wan’s guard slipped, and Anakin’s saber drove straight through Obi-Wan’s thigh. A mirror image of the wound Dooku had inflicted on his other leg, a lifetime ago it seemed, back when they had been on the same side.

Were they still?

Anakin’s face had dropped with shock at the injury, and before any of the men could react, he had picked Obi-Wan up in his arms and rushed him to the med bay.

And then the Council called to speak with Kenobi privately, and Anakin’s rage and hurt against them for their role in handing his Padawan over to the authorities rose up again like a serpent reading to strike.

The thirtieth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, he fought with his left hand, as if taunting his Master that he was still superior.

The thirty-sixth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, the older Jedi fought back, taking the offensive just long enough that it seemed he would be victorious — and then something in Anakin’s face broke. Grief and dismay were revealed in the cracks of his wrath, and Obi-Wan retreated again, and then fell.

The fortieth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, he was met with silence.

Anakin stared, his saber already lit in his hands, as Obi-Wan stood up slowly from where he had been meditating.

He dragged himself to his feet like a man on the verge of collapse, but he was as irritatingly graceful as ever, composed, serene. Anakin’s hands tightened on his weapon.

“Well?” he prompted.

Obi-Wan said nothing.

He looked down at the floor, and some of his burnished, ruddy hair fell over his eyes, concealing his face from view. Anakin waited impatiently. A strange feeling rose inside him, something nauseous and uncertain, and he did not want to know what it was.

“Well?” he demanded more aggressively.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and looked up at him.

And Anakin was struck by how small his Master looked.

Shorter than him by a few inches, yes, but somehow that larger-than-life quality that hung about the man had fallen away. He looked tired. Beaten, humbled, hurt — like a child, like a man driven to the edge and then over it without anyone pausing to take notice of his fall.

His blue eyes were shattered by unshed tears.

Anakin recoiled.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan croaked. His voice was tight as a wire, strained with the effort of holding back tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Anakin. I... I’m too tired to be your emotional punching bag today.”

“Obi-Wan—” said Anakin, not even knowing what he was going to say, and stopped there.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan repeated. And he sounded it. Looked it. Was dripping remorse into the air like a sky about to storm. “Please. If this is what you need, I can keep doing it, but I just need today. I need a day to breathe. And — and if you’re —”

A tear trickled down over one cheek and into his beard. Then another.

Anakin was watching with his expression frozen between anger and shock.

Cody leaned forward as if about to spring. Rex’s hand settled on his shoulder.

“If you just need more time, I’ll give it to you,” Obi-Wan whispered. “But if you’re angry enough to strike me down unarmed... do it. I don’t — I don’t want — I can’t —”

Cody jolted under Rex’s grip.

And still, Anakin’s saber blazed in his hands, casting Obi-Wan in blue light, reflected in his shining eyes.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan said helplessly.

Anakin hesitated.

Conflicting emotions ran across his face one after the other, grief chasing pain chasing anger chasing despair chasing rage, like shadows passing over deeper waters.

He raised his saber a little higher.

=

[a-supernatural-writer]

My dude, a stressed kid with upcoming exams would appreciate a Poly lost boys with a scary ass grunge reader? Like I’m talking they hold a lighter to their tongue for fun, they carry around butterfly knives, they’ve got a warrant for their arrest in five states and pick fights with Surf Nazis and win- the boys have never been so intimidated. Pretty please?

Scary Grunge S/O

Poly Lost Boys x gender neutral reader

No problem! I hope you enjoy this and I wish you all the luck with your exams! ❤️❤️

Warnings: cursing

The boys having a scary ass grunge partner would 100% add some spice into their life. They were already intimidating but having you at their side increased their intimidation tenfold.

They thought they were tough, hello, that was thrown out the damn window the moment you told them that you have a warrant for your arrest in five different states and that's why you fled to Santa Carla. The most that they’ve ever been really “charged” with is being kicked off of the Boardwalk for the night. Well, that’s when they were caught doing something.

Of course they’d ask what you were charged for and grins would bloom on their faces at your words, finding it amusing that a human like you slipped through the authorities fingers like sand to avoid your charges.

Not even a couple weeks into your guys relationship, they revealed themselves to you, showing you that they were actually vampires. To say they were surprised at your reaction would be underselling it, they were shocked. You didn’t bat an eyelash when you saw them ripping apart their prey for the night. Blood spraying everywhere, limbs torn off, and then being thrown into a fire when done.

All you could do was grin at their vampire faces and comment on how cool they were. You never thought vampires could even exist and here you were dating four blood-sucking creatures of the night… it was awesome.

You always went with them when they fed. Watching from the trees or hell, even getting up close in the middle of the action which led to blood getting all over your clothing. You would just shrug and smile as your boys fed. You’ve seen some fucked up shit and this wasn’t even close to some of the things you’ve seen.

Pretty soon, you're not even seen apart from anyone of their sides. You officially moved with them in their cave and set up your own little next in one of the many hotel rooms that sunk into the earth. And with moving in, they began to learn and experience your habits.

You like holding a lighter to your tongue for fun? Honey, you got four very fascinated but worried boys on your hands. You’d just be lounging around in the cave, hanging out on one of the couches when the idea crosses your mind. You’ve done it a million times before, you just never did it in front of your boys.

The second you flick open your lighter and hold your tongue over the lit flame, it’s immediately snatched away from you by David’s hand. And the scolding commences. Of course you have to point out all the crazy shit they do and the stuff that you’ve done, what harm could a lighter do to your tongue. A lot, but who gives a shit? Certainly not you.

Reluctantly, David gives you back your lighter cause somehow you will find another one no matter how many times David takes it from you. From that point on, David will just shake his head at your action, but is also curious. He watches you as you test your luck with the lighter, always kind of on stand by just in case anything happens.

Dwayne is on the same level of David. Always hovering over you as you do this past time activity. He watches you not only for safety but out of fascination. If anything he’ll ask you questions; why do you do it? What’s so fun about it? How long have you been doing it? That kind of stuff.

He tries it a couple of times and hell, even got David to join in once or twice. But these two are the ones that wouldn’t join you most of the time. Yes, they are dead and technically it wouldn’t affect them greatly, but they just didn’t see the appeal as you did.

But Marko and Paul are 100% down with you. You wanna spend the next hour holding a lighter under our tongues and the first one to bow out buys dinner? Hell, yes! When they first see you playing with the lighter, they immediately start watching and giggle at how cool it was.

These boys are hoarders, and I mostly think that’s because of Marko and Paul, so you better believe that they are buying stealing cool lighters for you and you soon have a vast collection for whenever you finish one.

Your butterfly knives are also on the same level as you playing with your lighter, but they find it really impressive and you could do some actual damage to someone. They know that you could handle yourself and if anyone dared do something you didn’t like, it would end up with the other person getting hurt and you coming out of it without a scratch.

You take them out at random times if you're not fighting up against some surf nazis or anyone that wanted to put up a fight with you. Mostly it would be around the cave when you're bored is when you would pull one out and start doing random tricks with them that required very little effort for you.

Again, these boys are impressed at your knife skills, and also worried that you could possibly cut yourself by accident, but they trusted you from your years of experience with them.

When it comes to your knives, all of the boys want to learn some tricks. The ones that got it down are David and Paul. David always keeps the one that you picked out from your own collection in an inner pocket of his trench coat. He never really uses it for fighting, but he uses it like you. Takes it out randomly if he’s not doing anything or lost in thought.

Paul uses it like a fidget toy. You personally have to watch him like a hawk when he plays with his butterfly knife. He accidentally flung it in Dwayne’s direction one time when playing with it too much and from then on, you carried his along with yours. He would have to ask you for it if he ever felt the urge to do something with his hands. Expect a lot of requests to teach him new tricks.

Dwayne tried but this boy's hands are so big he kept on dropping it halfway through twirling the damn thing. It upset him a little that he couldn’t do it but he settled with watching you instead. He still has one on him, always trying when you aren't looking so that he could too, one day, at least pull off something similar to what you showed him.

Marko… don’t give Marko stabby or any pointy objects. He likes them a little too much. So much that it even made you lock up your entire collection so he wouldn’t take one. You had to scold him on numerous occasions that even though you did get into fights like him sometimes, you only pulled out your knife if it called for it. Marko was the opposite and wanted to pull it out for every fight he got in. You were thankful that you weren’t kicked off the Boardwalk because of his actions.

Speaking of fights. You were very much like Marko when it came down to it. But instead of waiting for a fight to present itself, if you felt like you were in the right mood, you would pick a fight with a group of surf nazis cause, why not? The night was young and no doubt your boyfriends would make them their next meal anyways so you decided to have a little fun.

When you got into the heat of your fights, it was very easy to tell from the outside that you enjoyed it a lot. There would always be a wide grin on your face as you gave one guy a black eye and another a punch to the nose, breaking it. You were violent and every single time, you would win. It didn’t matter how many there were, you’d be victorious.

It’s funny because that’s how the boys met you. They saw you coming out as the winner of your little brawl and wanted more than anything to get to know you. You kicked some surf nazis ass without getting thrown off the Boardwalk? You’re pretty cool in their book.

Aside from that, Marko would be the one to really get into fights with you. He would always say that you two were “partners in crimes”, which was very true, not just with Marko. If anything, it’s always Paul surprisingly trying to drag the two of you out of your violent tendencies. David and Dwayne… if you get them going, good luck with that. Not even Paul can stop them.

Overall, them having a scary, grunge partner adds even more excitement into their lives. You were always looking for action, which kept them on their toes. Always doing dangerous and reckless things that they would jump in on. All of that still continues when you decide to turn and become one of them.

When you turn you realize that you're practically dead and the stuff you did before can be even more fun. You take things further than what you could do as a human. You tested your limits and your boys were always with their badass partner every step of the way.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IX

Word Count: 3,087 Warnings: PTSD. Children. Fluff. Angst. Emotions. Dialogue heavy bullshit. Author's Note: Welp... this is it, y'all. I posted the first chapter of this on March 4, 2021, and it's coming to a close today on April 5, 2021, and I'm... a goddamn mess. I'm not ready to let these characters go, both the TF boys and my own character in Leah. I really appreciate all your kindness and encouragement throughout writing this, my whole heart belongs to you. Thank you, I hope you love this as much as I love you.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Her room is painted like a sunrise. He remembers the first time he went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the beginning.

Leah’s hands climb his back, a kiss pressed to the hot skin between his shoulder blades as he dips to pluck his peaceful little girl out of slumber.

“Baby, let her sleep.”

But he’s shaking his head, careful with hers in his hand, “she can sleep later, I need her with me now.”

“Hmm,” she hums, turning him to guide him back to their bedroom, “keep that enthusiasm.”  

Their shuffle is quiet, Luna’s big eyes slipping back to sleep nestled into her fathers shoulder.

He’s been home for over half a year and as he crawls back into bed, baby and wife clinging to him, part of him still can’t believe it. That after everything he told her, she let him stay. That, like tonight, she’s soothed the new nightmares like the old. That he celebrated Christmas with them, Luna’s first.

That he watched her lift herself up and take her first steps. That after all he had done, those first steps were towards him.

That he helped blow out the candles that he helped light, on the cake he helped make for the little girl who has her daddy’s eyes. His dimple. His smile.

One hand splayed across each of their backs, he’s talking to Leah but directing it at Luna when her bright brown eyes open again to find his.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, Leah’s soft hand falling on his under her small back, “I’m sorry that mama and papa woke you up.”

She reaches a tiny hand up to his face and he melts into the small touch of her, his heart swelling at the unbelievable luck he has in chances granted again and again when a little, “papa,” tumbles forward in the softly lit room.

He feels Leah jump and his eyes snap to hers before they both fall back to Luna, just over one year.

“She just sa—“

“Say it again, baby,” Leah coos, tears spilling over Frankie’s eyes.

She doesn’t understand but as she grabs for him, the small voice repeats, “papa,” and he didn’t know his heart could feel so full despite all the compounding moments of fullness she’s brought to him. That they both have.

He bites his lip while looking into Leah’s glassy eyes and knows that her heart is just as swollen in this moment and all the others.

“The next one’s first word will be mama,” his hand finds the small swell of her lower belly, “I promise.” —————

She presses a coffee cup into his hand before taking a seat across from him on the living room floor, baby toys and blankets strewn across the space between them.

“What happened?”  

He takes a deep breath, finding the words he spoke out loud to his team in Lorea’s mansion, “A serious fuck up.”

“I figured that much, Francisco, but what happened?”

So he tells her and she lets him.

He tells her about the seventeen grand of Santi’s own money. How he promised himself no live fire and let himself and his desperation to give her and Luna and himself the best lead him into shattering his soul again. Ripping it up as life drained from the eyes of his fellow human beings and how he didn’t even have the protection of a flag on his shoulder to ease a semblance of that pain. How even if they were bad guys, they weren’t his bad guys to worry about.

He tells her about the helicopter crash, the result of his own greed for the money and for a lack of conflict led to more loss and conflict. How he doesn’t know if he’s the one who fired first on that village but he knows he fired, an automatic weapon slung across his shoulders as easily as the diaper bag he carries through the grocery store for her.

He tells her about the crumbling mountainside, how all he saw at the bottom looking down was himself never coming home to his girls. How that’s when something within him finally snapped, when he and Will silently decided to take the reigns from Tom and Santi’s hands.

He tells her about the fire, burning hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep warm in the freezing air that wrapped around the Andes. About the gunfire that followed them through the rocks in the morning sun.

About standing over Tom’s dead body, the relief and guilt crashing inside him like a warm front meeting a cold one. How he thinks he’ll feel those both every day that he wakes because, unlike the survivor’s guilt easing through you on active duty at the knowledge that this just happens sometimes, this time was different.

He tells her that, after all of that, he threw millions of dollars down a snowy ravine in the middle of Peru where no one would ever see it again, not even his girls who needed it so much because he realized it wouldn’t be fucking worth it for them to have it if it meant not coming home.

He tells her how he almost shot that kid in the jungle. How he would’ve shot every kid standing between him and the boat to get home to his own.

He tells her that he thinks, at the end of it all, Santiago and his plan ended up doing more damage to that country than not.

She listens intently, focused wholly on him. Her face never breaks but he can see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to take it all in. Trying to understand.

“I understand if you want me to leave, if you never want to see me again,” he reaches out for her hand, a shiver of shock running through his spine when she doesn’t pull away from him.

Blinking as the words catch up with her, her head shakes, “I just got you back, Francisco, you promised me you wouldn’t leave again so why the fuck do you think I want you to go now?”

“Because what I did is unforgiv—“

“It’s not, there are terrible men in this world who do worse everyday,” he sees the slight sheen of tears coat her lashes, “and you helped stop one of them.”

“There will be others to take his place,” he says around a sip of his drink, his coffee gone cold in the spaces between all his words.

Her hand gives a squeeze to the one it holds, “there will always be others to take his place.”

His breathing evens out, anchored in his chest by a warmth he doesn’t deserve, “there's something else you need to know.”

He tells her about the five million dollars they were able to make it to the boat with, “we signed it all over to Molly and the girls. Will and Benny and I, we decided to do so while Santi was sleeping. We figured, ya know, at least we were coming home. It wasn’t really money we were losing since it was never ours to begin with, Tom’s family lost everything and they didn’t even know it.”

The tears do come now, streams running down his face, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you came to losing everything and not even knowing it too.”

His stunted words around the hiccups in his throat draw Luna’s attention, her babbles reaching out to him the way she tried to soothe Leah’s over the weeks prior. Their attention is on her now, eyes wide as she lifts herself with the couch for leverage.

She toddles one step towards his still shaking body before tumbling forward, his hands dropping the now empty coffee cup and Leah’s hand to catch her.

He pulls her small body close, hiding his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of baby lotion. As she giggles in his ear, he looks up to Leah’s soft face, “the boys and I still took three hundred thousand.” —————

“You're fucking insane,” Deana doesn’t quite whisper into Leah’s ear, “a whole ass baby with another one barely even a year old, have you heard of a condom?”

“How many mimosas did you have already, D?”

Kristyn struggles with her key in the door, a large bag in hand, “judging by the slight slur, I’m going with about three so far.”

“Fuck off, K,” she points, turning back to Leah, “I'm just saying that if that big goofy idiot husband of yours goes on another of his boy’s trips, I will kill him this time.”

Her fingers are still quoting around the air as the threat falls around them, Frankie’s attention at the other end of the room grabbed away from the pureed carrots of Luna’s lunch.

“Well,” Kristyn interjects, holding the bag forward, “that’s why I come bearing the gift of one Benjamin Miller, he couldn’t be here because of a boy’s trip.”

“What do you mean?”

Leah looks back at Frankie, his eyes now turned to the conversation. She sees the pain and confusion there, he didn’t know.

Kristyn follows Leah’s gaze before looking back at the older sister in front of her, “he promised me this was his last one and he’s sorry it had to take place during your baby shower but,“ she holds the bag out again, “he says you’ll like this one.”

“It's not a shower,” Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kristyn interjects, “a sprinkle. Whatever.”

“It’s not even that since, ya know,” she looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms, “he's already here.”

“A birthday present then,” she beams, “Benny says he’ll set it up when he gets home.”

Frankie’s laughter finds them now, choking around the baby food he’s trying to convince his stubborn daughter of—she’s not and she’s learned how to voice that disgust with all thanks given to her Uncle Benny.

“Baby, it’s another military surveillance camera.”

Kristyn laughs, “yeah, our whole house is strung up with them at this point but they come in handy to watch the neighbors since I’m nosy.”

“When did they leave?” His voice is small, a slight worry behind it.

Kristyn lets out a breath, “about four hours ago, he made me promise not to tell you until he was gone.”

He just nods his head, a silent clock beginning to tick in his brain. —————

It’s been two weeks since he heard from Ben or Will.

The boys have been here day in and day out since they came home last year, always were before that and even more so now that all they truly had was each other and the families they were making with and around each other.

Benny ran through Kristyn’s apartment complex screaming her name so loud as he started to bang on her door that he was met with a baseball bat. Now that idiot was going to be his brother because the sight she was met with was one of Benjamin Miller on his knees with a ring in his hands.

They gave them space with the baby’s arrival, small and short visits until Leah felt ready to have them all over again. He spoke to them that morning as he shaved the night’s stubble away, they talked like they were coming by and how they couldn’t get enough of their new nephew. How they were getting him the best present.

Frankie runs his forefinger and thumb along his mustache now, the compromise of facial hair he settled on. He didn’t want his full and sparse beard but he also felt lighter at the way Leah laughed into him with every brush of his lips.

He’s pacing the living room, bouncing the baby as Leah and Luna nap upstairs. There's only silence and the soft gurgling of a newborn when the quiet knock comes.

Already close to the entryway, he closes the distance and whispers a silent prayer to himself. A prayer that this isn’t bad news. That this is Will or Benny, not using their keys out of courtesy to the newness of little life inside his home.

He opens the door and is met with the tired eyes of Santiago Garcia.

“Hey, Frank,” he says. All bravado of his being seeped from him and replaced with, what sounds like, apology.

He adjusts his son in his hold, ushering the shorter man in so the warmth of the house doesn’t keep seeping out, “I thought you were in Australia.”

“Yeah, well,” he turns to face Frankie again as the door closes, “I make some really shit decisions sometimes.”

Frankie scoffs, half a laugh hidden in the sound. He’s not wrong but he’s not exactly right either.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He’s walked through to the kitchen, the shorter man falling in pace beside him, “we’re a dry household right now with the baby and my therapy bu—“

“Nah, Fis-Frank,” he stutters, “just came to talk to you. And Leah. She around?”

“She’s resting but I can pass along a message if I like it.”

Santi reaches into the leather folder he always carries around and produces a booklet, the one from the lawyer in St. John’s.

But different, a different cover and date, a different name stamped across the front.

“The boys sent me to give you this alone, said we needed to talk about a few more things than just this. Said I needed to apologize to you and to your wife, that I owed you that for so much but especially roping you into that shit last year.”

“Water under the bridge,” Frankie replies softly, changing direction to move through to the living room, “I gave up on an apology a long time ago and Leah never expected one, but nobody’s mad at you.”

Frankie carries the bassinet into sight from the kitchen before walking back, “what is this, Pope?”

“It’s your cut, we went back.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re stupid and greedy and we fucked ourselves up getting it in the first place so we figured we’d go back and we figured we fucking owed you.”

Frankie squints at the shorter man, searching his eyes for the hint of a joke he’s not laughing at. There is none. His cold brown stare is dead serious.

“This is my apology to you, Fran—“

“Frankie,” Leah’s voice filters into the room, he can hear her sleepy shuffle as she pads across the carpet now, “did you feed Santiago while I was asleep or should I?”

“I fed him, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

He looks back at the man who helped shape his life, tears welling in his eyes, and hears Leah talking about ordering Chinese for dinner as she crosses the threshold but he doesn’t hear her. He can’t hear anything over the squeeze around his midsection, Santi’s quiet strength taking all of his air and senses.

He lets go as quickly as he grabbed him, Leah’s presence heavy in the room now and he crosses the room to gather her in his arms, a kiss pressed to each cheek and then her hair. He’s careful not to hug as hard as he had Frankie, conscious of her still healing body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between them, “for everything I’ve done and everything I wasn’t around for.”

She’s trying to catch her breath, trying not to cry herself, “it's oka—“

“I should’ve been here for you guys.”

Her small hand comes up to pat the curls, a little more gray than a year ago, “you are now.”

He pulls away from her, a hitch in his voice as he says, “can I hold him?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “but you gotta wash your face and hands, no tears or snot on my baby.”

He mumbles to himself about how that makes sense as he moves to the sink, fumbling over the soap in the holder as he shakes with nerves.

She makes her way across the kitchen, wrapping her still sleepy being around that of her wide awake husband. The low lying winter sun is filtering through the windows, bathing everything in soft, warm light.

She sees the golden cover of the booklet on the counter and taps it, “what's this?”

Daylight Family Trust is stamped across in big bold words.

“That was the boy’s trip,” he whispers, “that’s our cut.”

He watches her as she slowly reaches for the document, the one that explains how this all works and looks between the men.

“How much?”

Santi rips a paper towel from the roll, “about thirty-five million.”

Frankie holds her as her knees start to give out but she’s still looking at Santi, she’s still looking for the joke he never made.

“Daylight's your call sign, you know,” he says cooly, “all the wives get one too, did he ever tell you?”

She shakes her head, looking at her husband now and thinking of all the times that very word fell from his lips.

“On our last real deployment,” Pope continues, “he was flying as the sun was setting and the sky was pure gold over the desert—“

Frankie’s eyes never leave hers, arms tight around her now.

“—he said it reminded him of the way the gold flakes in your eyes reflect the sunlight back at him, he called you Daylight until he got home and shed the callsigns altogether.”

“Frankie?”

He presses his lips into her forehead, his hand a heavy weight on her lower back that says, I’m right here.

“Your daughter has the same golden flakes in her eyes, like you, Daylight.”

Frankie runs his thumb along the swell of her cheek, "all I wanted to do last year was get home to you both, all I wanted was to make it right and see that reflection of light back at me through you both again.”

He leans down to softly press his lips to hers before nuzzling his nose into her hair, “our son has them too, the same gold in his eyes, it was the first thing I said to Ben when I walked out of the delivery room.”

"It was the first thing they said to me," Santiago says, "when they got off the plane." 

“Like me?” Her voice is soft, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to her limbs.

“Mmhmm,” Frankie hums, “like Daylight.”

TAG LIST: @justanotherblonde23​ | @notcookiebelle​ | @greeneyedblondie44​ | @icanbeyourjedi​ | @princess76179​ | @knivesareout​ | @phoenixpascal​ | @lexi-b-writes​ | @empress-palpat1ne​ | @mouthymandalorianalso​ | @starlightmornings​ | @soyelfuegoquearde​ | @darnitdraco​​ | @green-socks​​ | @the-feckless-wonder​​ | @hnt-escape​​ | @sarahjkl82-blog​​ | @klaine-92​

[iceman-maverick]

randomized west wing ficlets: donna + leo

leo mcgarry + donna moss, “i’m right here” preview: Josh says she’s pretty bright when you get past the college credits. Not that that matters anyways, Leo’s never been a stickler for a pedigree. 

word count: 1k and change pairings: leo & donna (platonic for the love of all that is holy), pre-josh/donna rating: gen, warnings: none

author’s note: literally fucking obsessed with this being the first pair the randomizer spit out at me 

It’s not that Leo hates schoolchildren, it’s just the unions that represent their teachers make his life a living nightmare. They’re 72 hours past the biggest victory this campaign’s ever seen, and all positive momentum has been absolutely steamrolled by the Arizona Teachers Union. The rep they typically coordinate with is angry about something with sex ed because of course she would be just as Bartlet for America gets its wings. Toby has been ranting for the better part of the past hour about it, reminding them all that it would be better optics to quite literally shoot a puppy on live cable than comment on condoms in schools to a crowd of moderates. Leo’s pretty sure Toby’s about to resort to throwing things when a knock comes at his door. 

“Um, Mr. McGarry?” 

It’s the young blonde that’s been running around Josh since New Hampshire, her name’s escaping him at the present moment. She’s a pretty little thing, and Josh says she’s pretty bright when you get past the college credits. Not that that matters anyways, Leo’s never been a stickler for a pedigree. 

Leo hasn’t said ten words to this girl but he’s finding himself fond of her. Josh can be a handful and she’s seems to be keeping pace with his neuroses quite well, which can prove to be all the difference in a high stakes campaign like the one Leo’s suddenly found himself running. 

“Uh, yeah?” Leo asks as he pulls up his email. The union rep has lit a fire under all their asses, and Leo finds himself, not for the first time, longing for Josh. 

Noah Lyman’s death is a tragedy on all accounts. He was a good attorney, an even better friend, and a great father, if the young man Josh has turned out to be is any judge. But Leo hasn’t spoken to Noah in many years, really hasn’t been a friend of his in more than a decade. In spite of the distance, Leo finds himself honestly shocked by how quickly Josh has become invaluable to him. 

Josh has been gone less than three nights and absence has made itself known. Fires seem to be popping up at every left corner without Josh to wrangle them down. Leo’s email is exploding, the volunteers have gone completely uncoordinated, and Josh’s little speechwriter has spent more time staring morosely out the window than he has, well, speechwriting. Even Jed himself seems out of sorts without Josh, which is pretty surprising because if Leo’s memory is correct, and it always is - blonde assistants aside, the Governor was still using the names Josh and Toby interchangeably just this Monday. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” The girl has her sleeves pulled down over her palms and has been swaying nervously on her feet. He gestures for her to come in and hand over whatever file is causing the confusion. His phone flashes red, and he picks up before the first ring even sounds. 

It’s the union rep, again. She’s wondering if he’s seen her email. The one she sent literally 25 seconds ago. Yes, that’s the one. She wanted to flag it as high priority, and also has four additional follow-up demands for the negotiation Leo’s not sure they ever agreed to have in the first place. 

He idly leafs through the manilla folder the girl had handed him as the rep drones on. It’s basic donor elbow rubbing, mostly letters and a couple of cold calls. Josh was supposed to divy it up between the volunteers before he... well, before Noah. It’s a simple enough task, clearly within this kid’s wheelhouse. 

Leo tells her so and gestures for a sheet of paper, all the while “uh-huh, okay, sounds good, sure thing”-ing the rep that’s somehow still on the phone. He scratches down the names of the gold-tier donors, and then the party line she should be telling them written out in shorthand. 

He slides it back to her, devastated to see another email coming in from the Teachers Union. The girl blanches when she reads the paper, biting anxiously at her lip. 

“Mr. McGarry, I-”

“It’s just Leo,” He finally is released from the call. He groans, swallowing his coffee that’s gone cold. 

“I don’t think I’m qualified to do this sort of thing. You see, Josh-”

“Sure you are! It’s cold-calling, even the Governor could manage it.” 

“No but I’m not sure if I can-” 

The phone lights up again, this time a leader of a large congregation from South Carolina. He’s furious with Jed for “showing him up on his own pulpit” last week. They’ve really got to get CJ to pin down Jed’s folksy-charm. If they lose the New York primary because of a poorly-timed verse from Leviticus, Leo’s going to walk straight into the Hudson. 

He sees his email light up once again - you guessed it! The union rep! And at that point he realizes that the secretary is still hovering over him. He waves her off, he doesn’t have the time to hand hold right now. 

She gathers the folders’ contents that have been scattered across his desk, and as she does, Leo notices the claddagh ring sitting nicely on her ring finger. It looks just like the one he’d given Mallory for her sixteenth birthday. He hadn’t realized the girl was Irish. 

She’s halfway out of the office, when he calls after her, “What’s your name again?”

“I’m Donna,” She doesn’t look offended, but she does look worried. Almost like she’s not even sure that’s her name.  

Leo suddenly finds himself laughing. He covers the phone and says “You’re gonna be fine, Donna. And even if you’re not, I’m right here.” 

That earns him one of those world class midwestern smiles Josh had been telling him about the other day. She holds her head up just a fraction higher, and when she walks out, Leo knows in his gut that she’ll secure double the donors Josh ever could. 

Yeah, she’s gonna be fine. 

##

the first of what surely will be many utterly bizarre one-shots. check out my tww prompt randomizer for context LOL or write your own! 

[sweetestlamb]

Temptation

Summary: Vincenzo is feeling parched.

Author's note: These two have been living in my mind rent free lately, I'm just shallow and they look so damn good together and when you add the chemistry, well I'm a goner. Just a little drabble based on today's episode, I'm taking a break from BMTL this weekend because it's going to be another 10k probably and it's the first weekend I'm off with my bf so I promised not to ignore him to write all day lol. Update soon though!

Bon appetit!

Wispy dark lashes flutter just above her high cheekbones as she awaits the blow, her pretty face scrunched up in anticipation as a minor twitch in her lip distracts him.

That's been happening far too often lately, more than he'd care to admit. It was easier when she was blindly following Babel and refused to see the insidious truth about the morally bankrupt company, it was easier to pacify his attraction when she was the bad guy. Not that he was the right candidate to judge, he'd done notifiable heinous things in his life. Her father had been the first person to look at him like he was worth something, like the evil that lurked under his skin could be used for something good.

But her eyes had been opened, in the end she had chosen her father. If only he'd been here to see it.

That decision unhinges the small grapple he has on his control, he finds himself looking at her all the time cataloging the many emotions that distort that expressive face. She's like a living caricature and instead of finding that off-putting he's intrigued and mesmerized. Constantly battling with his lips that won't stop rising in her presence, he's not someone who smiles lightly. Has never had much of a reason to.

Until now.

"What are you waiting for? Just do it." She whines impatiently, squirming side to side and pursing her full lips.

That small move captures all his attention, eyes locked on the rosy pink skin. Instinctively he steps forward until he can feel her body heat, her face is even more captivating up close. She was beautiful, that wasn't hard to admit he was a man after all and his eyes were functional. It was.... everything else that he couldn't admit, not even to himself.

Just do it.

If only she knew what those words did to him, he felt as if he was lit in flames by his own lighter; burning up just from his prolonged vicinity to the loud lawyer. She was being her usual brazen self but she had no idea, not the slightest inkling of what exactly he wanted to do to her. It usually ended in passionate screams in his dreams. Her wild abandon was a thing of beauty, he didn't even mind the mess on his silk sheets because his mind supplied such vivid imaginings.

Staring down at her he wonders how she would taste, perhaps like the spicy noodles she was so fond of or maybe something sweeter and forbidden, once you peeled back the many layers you would discover something so delicious it was addicting. She would be his ambrosia.

"Come on, you're killing me! What's taking so long?" She grumbles now pouting, plush bottom lip jutting out enticingly and his finger hovers in front of her forehead but he can't move, can't bring himself to hurt her no matter how insignificant the hit. Somehow this woman has weaved a web around him, he feels like a fly caught in a spider's deadly but beautiful trap.

What's wrong with me?

There must be indeed something wrong with him because he feels his hand unfurling and lowering until he's nearly cupping her jaw, the delicate point barely above his hand. He's so tempted. Taking another step forward he lifts his second hand, curling around the dip of her lower back. She's so petite despite her loud bark, her entire body could fit easily in his hand.

He wants to lower his hand, grab her face and her waist and.... And what? What is he thinking? This is not why he came to Korea. He wasn't supposed to get involved more than he needed to and he knows no good can come of this, there's only one outcome for men who are lured by seductive sirens. He has to ignore her song no matter how much his body aches when he's with her. Woman have never been elusive in his line of work, gorgeous Italian women who opened up for him easily, surrendering under his capable hands. They were nothing but a good time, a perfunctory scratching of an itch. But, Cha-young he wants to wreck her, take her apart piece by piece until she's putty in his hands.

"What are you doing?" She says sounding amused and he lifts his eyes to find her twinkling ones already on his face. She looks at the twin hands hovering above her body with a raised brow, face now turned into the hand adjacent to her cheek.

"Do you want to change the specifics of our deal?" She teases darkly and he gulps, finally lowering his hands but twisting them around his back to prevent himself from making a huge mistake.

"No." He lies, trying to douse the fire that is blazing in his blood.

"Aishhh. You're such a bad liar." She huffs, nose crinkled up in disbelief and he hates the way his heart smarts his lips twitching to form a smile. He feels so warm and he doesn't know what any of it means.

"Come here." She doesn't give him an opportunity to disobey before reaching out to grab his tie, her hands wrapped around the luxurious material and with a sharp tug he's pulled into her, their bodies colliding and everything feels right.

"Stop." He whispers throat feeling raw, his voice comes out rougher than he intended. His eyes widen at the red flush that it yields, he's not the only one affected it seems.

"You don't want to flick me," she states with certainty, eyes searching his face as she tightens her hold on his tie his neck strains under the slight pressure, leaning down to lessen the tension. Too late he releases how much closer that brings their faces, she's barely an inch away from him now her soft puffs of breath landing directly on his face. "What do you want to do to me instead, Mr. Cassano?" She boldly finishes her statement, dark eyes ping ponging between his lips and his eyes.

Mentally berating himself for his weakness he suddenly grabs her waist, his arm circumvents the entire circumference with room to spare. She gasps in surprise but doesn't look scared, rather she looks curious, biting her bottom lip as she earnestly watches him.

"Do you really want to know?" He bites out, bringing his hand to her jaw and then sliding lower curling it around her neck, fingers tickling the soft nape of head.

She smirks, unflinching in the eye of his storm. She stands on the tips of her toes, bringing them that much closer, "Oh you don't know how much I want to know, Vincenzo." His name is exotic on her tongue, the letters not quite settling correctly but it sounds delectable to his ears, he wants to hear her scream it loudly too.

"I'll show you then." He's done with words, it's clear that they're both cognizant of what's happening between them, the air is so charged it's nearly crackling. She isn't backing down and despite his better judgement he doesn't want to lose, he can't be the way to pull away now. Simultaneously they yank each other closer, him by her neck and her by his tie. He sees the passion in her eyes, finally bursting to the surface and that's all the consent he needs, if she wants him too then she can have him.

Twisting his head he surges forward, eager to capture her lips and devour her moans of pleasure, his hand is now curled possessively around the small swell of her tight posterior, her suit pants always putting it beautifully on display. He had been hungry to touch it, grab it and feel the plumpness in his hands. It's every bit as amazing as he's imagined, her lips fall open as he squeezes at the flesh and he leans forward prepared to eat her alive.

She wraps her free arm around his neck, dragging him down to meet her and he easily lifts her off the ground, grinning boyishly when she squeaks releasing his tie to wrap both arms around his neck, their faces are now level. His hand remains on her ass.

Silently they move towards each other, intent crystal clear.

He can feel the heat from her lip, just as he grazes the smooth skin he hears a loud crash from behind them and they both jump, foreheads knocking accidentally as they react to the sudden sound.

He unceremoniously drops her, but her arms still latched around his shoulder force him forward making his forehead now collide with her chin. She lets out a loud scream of pain, shoving him away and shouting obscenities. He rubs at the pained skin, wincing in discomfort before turning towards the loud interruption with a murderous glare.

Who the fuck was it?

Nam Joo-Sung stands quivering in apparent fear looking like he's seconds away from urinating himself, his knees knocking together viciously.

A deer in the headlights, his eyes are as huge and terrified as one.

"I--um well you see.... I forgot to water the plants....you both look angry. Scary. You don't want an explanation. I'm going. Gone. I'll just. Go." He stutters out nonsensical, suddenly grabbing the plants and he watches as the frightened man awkwardly lifts the pots, cursing when the soil falls out dirting his clothes and the wooden floors, then he falls to his knees scooping it back into the pots, crawling backwards until he's out the door.

They both stare at the door.

Awkward silence remaining even with the man's departure.

And then a vibration fills the air, she jumps as if broken from her stupor reaching into her tiny bag and retrieving her phone. He can barely hear her over the beating of his own heart but he catches the disappointed look she sends his way, they can't continue this.

"Yes. I understand, we'll be right there."

Grabbing his briefcase he takes a moment with his back turned to her to catch his breath, collect himself. He's Vincenzo Cassano, not some prepubescent teenager. He can control himself, control is his middle name.

Then he turns back around and loses all his hard worked composure.

She's right in his space, rubbing absently at her neck as she looks at him.

"We'll finish this later. Don't think I'm going to let you off easy, I always finish what I start." She promises, pointedly looking his lips before grinning then boldly she lightly smacks him twice on his cheeks, "Pick your jaw off the ground, we have to go."

Her long hair bounces over her shoulder as she skips away, his eyes locked on the hypnotic sway of her hips. Her hands are cutely by her side, her signature walk that he had found ridiculous before. He doesn't view it the same way now.

Next time, there will be no interruptions he will make sure of it. Even if he has to kill someone.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

heyo friend, I hope you’re doing well 🖤 What about the “You know I hate it when you do that, right? Keep doing it” smut prompt + shigaraki? With a gn!reader?

✧ pairing: tomura shigaraki x gn!reader

✧ warnings: brat taming themes, smut, references to violence, blood mention, handjobs, villain!reader, 18+ minors DNI

✧ word count: 1.5k

✧ a/n: hey mootie! thanks so much for your request. I know you were looking for some brat taming so take my subtle, sleep deprived attempt at some lowkey bratty behavior.

“You idiot, what the hell was that?”

The door slammed hard enough to reverberate through your chest. The momentary shake in your ribs was nothing compared to the adrenaline trembling in your fingers as they flailed in front of you, catching your fall. The bar top was cold and unforgiving in your grip.

Just like the floors under your feet and the roof over your head and all the people uneasily asleep upstairs.

Cold.

Unforgiving.

Tomura Shigaraki cut a menacing figure—and when didn't he?—as he stood cloaked in the darkness of the hideout. You could still feel the ache of his grip on your arm, can feel the dull throb of forming bruises there. He left faint crimson footprints behind when he stepped fully into the dim, overhead lights.

The short, baby curls around his head shone in the glow like some blasphemous halo.

But he is your savior tonight, so the comparison seems a bit less jarring.

“You’re gonna have to be a lot more specific than that, boss,” you tried to sound less winded than you are.

For someone so skinny, Shigaraki had some fucking stamina. Both beaten and well bloodied, the two of you certainly cut a striking image. And while you were panting from your escape—legs on fire after carrying you down innumerable alleyways and feet numb from the slap of the pavement through worn out soles—your boss seemed barely winded.

Untouched by the fight and subsequent flight halfway across the city while tugging you along at his heels.

Though, he also didn’t get his ass straight up hyperdrive blasted into a brick wall. You’d give yourself some credit where it was due.

“I don’t need you taking hits for me,” he snapped, coming nose to nose—well, hand to nose with you.

Every muscle in your body protested as you stood straight and stared him down, feeling how the bruises cut deep through your skin and stained your ego like rotting fruit.

“Really?” you asked, not quite delusional enough to be incredulous, but getting there. “Cause that fucking black eye says differently.”

There was a nasty red and purple mark spreading from the side of his temple that disappeared under the hand that hid most of his face from view. You’d watched him take that kick straight to the side of his head and not even stumble.

He was right.

Shigaraki didn’t lie—that’s why you followed him.

That’s why you couldn’t help the strange, second nature movement of your feet as you had watched one of the dozens that ambushed you wind up to fire a super-powered punch off at Shigs chest. The whole moment existed as a slow motion memory, something you watched from above—a voyeur in your own mind. The way your boss’ eyes went horribly wide, the glow of the man’s fist, the way your body went limp like a rag doll in mid air and slammed against the adjacent wall.

How your assailant was nothing more than a pile of ash only seconds later.

Though you tried not to read too much into that particular detail.

“You know I hate it when you do that right?”

You became peripherally aware that the ache in your chest was being exacerbated by his body weight pressing you back into the polished wood of the bar. As two hands caged you in with their pinkies comically raised to keep you trapped, you felt a familiar rush of defiance in the face of this show of superiority.

“What? When I save your dusty ass?” you tried to smile but his unwavering gaze made it die on your lips.

To be completely fair, you had just watched him take so many hits that should have killed him outright and keep fighting like the inevitably fractured bones were nothing but pinpricks.

You’d always known Shigaraki was intimidating, in his self-assuredness and confidence you knew was not unfounded. But you’d never seen him put his money where his mouth is before, only heard the stories from the rest of the League.

Now you understood.

“When you talk back to me,” he hissed.

He didn’t bother to correct you. He didn’t need to. You both very well knew that if anyone had been saved tonight, it was you as he retreated from the fight, pulling you to safety and not stopping until he—and doors of the bar—were firmly placed between you and feral city streets.

“Oh come on—” you were halfway through an eye roll even Dabi would be proud of when he reached up to grip the hand on his face and pulled it aside.

The smell of formaldehyde dissipated as it landed with a thunk on the bar and Shigaraki stared at you with newly unencumbered intensity.

“Keep doing it.”

You blinked in stunned stupid silence.

“What?”

It was only then that you realized it, and once you saw the subtle flush of his cheeks and the twitch in his fingers, you weren’t sure how it had ever escaped your notice.

Villainy had always been attractive for the rush, alluring in the sense that it afforded you the feeling of being so painfully alive. The adrenaline fueled, full body shaking that flooded you with invincible endorphins—that made your face hot and your blood sing. That was what called to you. That was what had you flinging yourself in front of punches and sprinting down the worn out city streets.

And that was what Shigaraki was feeling now as you held your own against him.

Challenged his authority.

Took what you were given and gave just as well.

You could imagine most people would have given up the smartass act after one too many brushes with a dusty end, but you were a stubborn piece of shit.

In fact, you were a little fucking brat.

And Tomura Shigaraki liked it.

“I won’t tell you twice,” he said, and when exactly did that gravel road rasp in his voice become so spine tingling?

His chest was flush with you now, and the familiar firmness pressing against your thigh only confirmed your revelation.

And only strengthened your resolve.

A grin on your face, you locked eyes with your boss.

“Oh, Shigs,” you mused, shivering at the way he smirked down at you in all his bloody, beaten glory. “I think you absolutely will.”

The bar behind you creaked under his grip and you suddenly missed the power in those deadly hands, pressing fingerprint bruises into your skin. You doubted you’d have to wait much longer for that though, not with the he twitched against your hips as you shifted to press back into him.

“Maybe you’ll listen better with your mouth full.”

One of those long fingers was trailing softly through the gashes in your top, running across your chest and tapping at your lips. He rolled what was undeniable a fucking unfairly large dick against you just so there would be no mistaking the direction this was clearly going in.

And what a hot fucking turn of events it was.

“Now boss, if you want me to keep talking, you’re gonna have to fill up something else.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little proud of yourself at the ability to formulate comebacks even as the hand at your lips slipped down to yours and drew it to the fastenings of his jeans.

“Don’t think I’m going to reward you for being so fucking irresponsible.”

He seemed at once so simultaneously wrecked and completely untouched by you that your head spun. Shigaraki kept his voice even, his face stuck in that same pleased expression. The only thing that gave him away was the raging hard cock you now palmed easily through his underwear and the pink flush that was spreading slowly down his neck and under the low collar of his shirt.

“Bold of you to assume this isn’t a reward,” you muttered, entranced by the way the blush lit around the razor edges of his scars, thin silver lines prominent against the blood rushing under his skin.

Your mouth watered and Shigaraki—Tomura? Should you call him Tomura now that his length was falling free into your palm and leaking across your fingers?—did nothing to stop you from leaning forward and latching onto one of the rough patches of flesh.

Shigs didn’t seem ashamed in the least or try to hide the gasp you yanked out of him with your tongue pressing deeply over the veins in his neck.

However, he also didn’t allow either of you to indulge for long. Seconds later a hand gripped the back of your shirt and the wrist that was currently pumping your boss’ deliciously heavy dick, stopping your movements entirely.

The rational part of your brain was not quick enough to catch the whine that left you when he moved to step away.

Shigaraki’s rare chuckle almost made it worth the embarrassment.

“Yeah,” he was grinning again but it was different this time. Predatory—a beast caught scent of blood, ready for the newest struggle to the death. “That’s what I thought.”

When he finally guided your hand back to his cock, warm with a beautiful red tip that gushed enough to slick your palm, you found it incrementally harder to formulate a response.

But you hadn't quite given up the fight yet.

When you smiled back at him, it was all teeth.

All claws.

Ready and waiting to be tamed.

[shootthemessenger]

the delicate art of a criminal mind [a.m-r. ; b.d.h.]

ally mayfair-richards x fem!reader x billie dean howard

summary: two of the FBI’s most wanted, two convicted felons, and a policeman’s daughter make for one hell of a love story

disclaimer: strong language, sexual nature, brief adultery, short-lived angst

I’m so sorry that this sucks, I had a fucking AMAZING version of it that got deleted due to technical difficulties (me, im the technical difficulty) also this is an edited version of a story I wrote YEARS ago so if some of the names/third person editing are/is wrong I’m sorry

gif belongs to @valenthatgurl

Billie’s eyes traveled slowly down your body, mind drinking in your figure as a delicate smirk probed at her lips. “Have I ever told you how much I adore you, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from your throat or the smile on your face. The blonde moved carefully behind you, letting her hands fall against the curves of your hips where they rested gently. She liked to hold you between her two hands.

“Often.” You replied simply which only caused her to let out a breathy chuckle and press a chaste kiss to the base of your neck. Billie locked eyes with you through the mirror in front of you, eyebrow twitching in amusement as she watched you adjust your earrings carefully.

She had bought you them last week, in a small shop in Miami, refusing to show you the price tag even after she bought them. It was often that she showered you in small, expensive gifts. Afterall, she believed she had to pay you back for kidnapping you in the first place.

It wasn’t planned, necessarily. Your mother was a police chief in the small town you lived in who had been hunting after Billie and her team for months. As crazy as it seemed as you stood there so intimately with her, she was a criminal and had been for most of her life.

It started when she was younger, stashing trinkets into her backpack from stores and gifting them to her friends. Then she moved on to bigger things, clothing and electronics from the mall that she would keep just for the thrill of knowing she had them.

Then came the bank heist. She had gathered her team, team being her good friend Misty and Misty’s girlfriend, Cordelia. They forced their way into the bank and forced the money into the bags as swiftly as they could.

By the time they got outside, they was surrounded with bags upon bags of cash tucked in her team’s hands. Completely drowning under the police presence, they had no choice but to shovel into the police car closest to them and pray they were capable of getting away.

What Billie hadn’t accounted for was the fact that you would be sitting in the passenger seat of the car she rushed, waiting for your mother to return and finish, what had started off as, your ride-along for the day.

Nevertheless, she had no time to think before she was barreling down the road and hoping she could figure out what to do with you once she was out of such traffic.

In the beginning the two of you hated each other but the more time you spent together the more you fell for one another.

Eventually, you started dating and had been growing strong since then. Now you were here, the four of you had been on the run together for 3 years and had covered most of the U.S..

You were the current occupant of an old, run-down hotel in LA. Tonight, you were headed to a new club that had just opened up downtown.

Billie called it “hiding in plain sight” but really it was just an excuse to get you into the black dress she had loved so much and grinding up against her into the late hours of the night.

"I love you so much." Billie’s voice was low and raspy, the way she knew you liked. "I love you, darling." You returned.

Weird looks were shot to Billie from her two partners, they had never seen the woman be so affectionate towards someone so openly.

It was easy to say that Billie had never been affectionate to anyone until you came along.

Billie was the leader of the three; easily the brains of the group. She was cunning and persuasive and intelligent; all things you'd think a criminal would have to be to do the things that they would do. She was damn near a loose cannon and not many people risked getting too close.

Cordelia and Misty were the only friends Billie really had and she didn't mind one bit. She worked better alone.

Never get in Billie Dean Howard’s way; everyone knew that by now.

Misty was what most people would call the muscle of the group, though all three of them could easily take down someone on their own. She was tactically trained and she could easily rough someone up.

She always wore a set of thick leather gloves around her slender fingers, which meant that she was ready to start swinging anytime she might have needed to. It kept people from messing with Billie and Cordelia and it got them whatever they needed and wanted.

Cordelia, on the other hand, was more of the beauty of the group. Not that she couldn't rough someone up if it came down to it, but there was something about her that drew people in. She was incredibly beautiful and she had no problem using that to her own advantage. She could get anything with a bat of her deep brown-colored doe eyes and, of course, her habit of biting her lip didn't hurt when added to the mix.

She was irresistible, especially in the type of clothes she was wearing now; a short black dress that hugged every delicate inch of her body. She had the perfect hips to fill in a dress like that. She was the team's biggest distraction.

“Uh...B?” Misty interrupted, her eyes scanning over her phone screen. “Maybe we should just stay here tonight.” She proposed, glancing up at the blonde.

Billie cocked her eyes, hesitantly pulling away from you to sit on the end of the bed. “Why’s that?” She pulled a cigarette between her lips and lit it, watching glancing between her two partners.

"Ally is in town and by the looks of it, she’ll be in the exact same place we will.” She turned a phone around to display a text sent from her from one of her former accomplices, it read “look who i just ran into” with a photo of the woman attached.

“We need to take her out.” Cordelia piped up, moving to sit on the dresser across from the bed. “Tonight.”

Ally Mayfair-Richards was another criminal, just as the three girls were. She was the only woman or man who had ever dared to step up towards Billie’s authority. When it became two much, the three girls parted ways with Ally and decided to stick together without her.

Since then, they had all been rivals and avoided each other at all costs in fear one party would cause harm to the other or worse; they’d all get caught together.

Billie knew that all she needed was to get the cops and Ally in the same place and let the law do it's job to rid her of her rival. It wasn't like they wouldn't know her from her face, they'd been chasing her for almost seven years now, but it wasn't like they didn't know Billie’s face either.

“How are we supposed to take her out and go unnoticed? That’s fucking impossible without getting our own asses caught.” Billie huffed as Misty began to pace in thought.

It was silent for a moment until Cordelia’s face lit up, a look that had caused Billie trouble since the very beginning. It was never good when Cordelia gave that look. “Y/N!” She suddenly blurted out, face curling into a cunning smirk.

All three of you made a weird face at her, “What about her?” Billie questioned cautiously. “We can use her.” Cordelia answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “shes smoking hot and everyone knows Ally is a sucker for an attractive woman.”

Billie’s eyes widened as she rose to her feet before narrowing at the woman across from her, “Don’t even fucking think about it.” She hissed, hand already balling at her side.

She moved in front of you, blocking you from Cordelia’s view, “Get that thought out of your thick skull because it’s not happening.”

Misty sighed, “Come on B, all she’s gotta do is a little bit of grinding and a lot of distracting and we can handle the rest.” Everything was quiet as Billie glanced between Cordelia and Misty, “No.” She mumbled harshly.

Misty huffed, “It’s our only option, B. Ally doesn’t know what Y/N looks like and by now, she’s grown so much she could easily hide from the cops. It’s perfect!”

“It’s Ally to prison or us, you choose Billie.” Cordelia added, causing Billie to huff and glance at you.

“I don’t mind.” You finally spoke, playing with Billie’s fingers gently. “I’ve always wanted to help.” You pouted, knowing Billie had a weak spot for your eyes.

After a moment of silence she sighed and stepped towards the two women across the room, “Anything happens to her and I’ll send you both to prison myself, whether I have to join you or not.” Cordelia and Misty both grinned as they murmured their enthusiasm and disappeared down the hall to their own room.

Billie turned to you as soon as the door clicked closed, pinning you against the mirror you had been getting ready in. You offered a sheepish smile to which she shook her head, “ That’s not going to work this time. Anything goes wrong and I swear you’ll never get to help us again, do you understand me?”

Her eyes watched you, fueled with fire. You gulped and nodded as she pressed her lips to yours firmly, gripping your hips with a new kind of power she had not had a few minutes ago.

By exactly eight-thirty, the four of you rolled up to the club. Lights and loud music from inside were already screaming at you and you could feel the music vibrating against the concrete. Billie was starting to get nervous, all thought she’d never openly admit it.

Cordelia turned from her place in the drivers seat and glanced at you in the back, “Alright chica, all you’ve got to do is dance. There’s a cop down the street and we’ll get him on Ally’s trail. We’ll all be keeping an eye on you. You’ve just got to keep her attention long enough. Just be sexy, that’s all you have to do.” Billie huffed in protest at the last part, her grip on your leg becoming tighter.

Once Misty and Cordelia had scurried out of the car, Billie turned to you and pressed her lips against your ear, “I’ll be watching you, little one.” She watched the shiver rack your spine before jumping out of the car and disappearing into the club.

You let out a heavy breath before getting out and making your way inside. Immediately, you were met with the sexual tension suffocating the room as bodies moved against one another.

You located Billie across the room, settled at the end of the bar and the other two women situated in a booth across the room.

You locked eyes with Billie and winked descretely before settling into an open seat and ordering the strongest drink you could find; you were going to need it.

No more than ten minutes past before you could feel someone standing behind you, a hand brushed against your hip as they sat down and you jumped slightly.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” The woman mumbled softly as she settled into the seat next to you with her arm rested on the bar. “Let me get you another drink.” She offered.

Her voice was quiet and thick as she leaned into you, a strand of her hair brushing against your shoulder.

Looking up, you locked eyes with her and caught a blush that began to spread across your face. You nodded softly, regaining composure as you stuttered something along the lines of “sure” and allowed her to lean into you as she laughed, “No need to be nervous, beautiful.”

“I saw you from across the room, no woman as beautiful as yourself should sit alone.” Mentally, you rolled your eyes at her cheesy confidence, watching closely as she licked her lips before ordering two drinks.

You were so caught up in staring at her that you couldn’t even catch what she was talking about. That was, until her fingers snapped in front of your face and you had to force yourself into reality, “Huh, what?”

She shook her head and laughed, “I asked you your name.” She repeated, leaning in so that you could hear her better. “Y/N. Yours?” You answered softly, taking a sip of your drink.

She licked her lips once again, “Ally.” Your eyes widened before you quickly corrected your face. She propped her elbow on the counter as you glanced at the clock nervously. Now that you knew it was her you were talking to, you were growing nervous.

“Would you like to dance?” You questioned, shaking of the nervousness that probed at your stomach. She simply smiled and pushed herself onto her feet, allowing you to stand. She followed you out onto the dance floor, waiting until you were situated before letting her hands find the dip in your waist and pulling you to her closely.

As you started to roll your hips into her, she leaned in until her mouth was lingering against your ear, “You really are a sight for sore eyes. You were having trouble concentrating as her lips began to trail down your neck.

“T-thanks.” You let your eyes flutter closed, almost finding yourself enjoying the feeling of her lips on your skin until the thought of Billie popped into your head and your eyes snapped open again.

Ally was surely leaving a hickey on your neck, and the eerie feeling of someone watching you was bubbling in your chest though you couldn’t figure out which direction it was coming from.

One again, you let the feeling of Ally pressed against you and the base rattling your tipsy brain take oven. “You’re enjoying this just as much as I am.” Ally mumbled from behind you, fingers digging into your skin.

You couldn’t deny it. You had Billie, you would never be able to deny the love you had for her. But in that moment you craved Ally.

And you couldn’t stop it. It was eating you up inside but you let the alcohol pumping in your veins control you and simply nodded and turned to face her.

You couldn’t help but notice she smelled like honey. As you took a deep breath, a fire ignited somewhere within you. It was very different from the strawberries and cream smell you were used to with Billie.

Your little bubble with Ally was burst as the door to the club swung open and a cope stepped in, his eyes glancing around the room as if he was already looking for someone.

You felt Ally tense beside you, before your eyes met and her face spread into a mischievous grin. “You’re coming with me.” And with that she was tugging you out the back door.

Billie felt a heaviness in her chest, one that made it heard to breathe and made her heart feel as if it was beating so hard in on her chest that it was rattling her bones.

Her eyes had turned a violent black color as her fingernails dig into her palms so persistently that she created crescent shapes in her skin.

She could have killed someone right in that moment.

She was only brought out of her state by someone clearing their throat from beside her and turned to meet her partners, who both look d so nervous they could faint.

“We lost her.” Misty squeaked out, they had all taken their eyes off the dancing girls for a split second and by the time their narrowed their attention, they were gone.

Billie’s eyes visibly darkened and Cordelia gulped nervously as Billie backed the two of them into a wall, “Find her. Or so help me God, you’re dead.”

Back outside, you and Ally slowed down next to a car you assumed to be hers. You could see the outline of two bodyguards through the tented windows.

Ally smirked, pressing you against the passenger door as her lips ghosted against yours; neither of you leaning in enough to fill the small gap.

“I-uh-“ you mumbled underneath the taller woman, who let her eyes open again and pushed back slightly. “Come with me.” She stated quickly, taking your hand into hers, “we can travel all around the world and stay in fancy hotels; honeymoon suits for just the two of us everywhere we go. I can spoil you and make you mine. I can care for you. I want to.” She was rambling.

She took your silence as a cue to continue on, “I know you just met me and there are so many things you don’t know about me. There are so many things you deserve to know about me. I want to learn about you and let you learn about me.” She talked so quickly that she was having trouble catching her breath.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, “Ally, I can’t.”

You were thinking about Billie.You were thinking about all of the memories you shared. All the moments you shared. The moments filled with hatred, the moments fueled by love, the times you went wild in towns you’d never traveled to before and probably never would again, the words you’d exchanged, the intimate moment where the whole world melted and it was jus the two of you. There were the times you made love, when Billie really took her time worshiping you and your body. Then there were the more rough times, usually fueled by anger or Billie’s raging jealousy. Just an hour ago you couldn't have fathomed the thought of doing any of those things with anyone else. But here you were, possibly going to run away with a woman you’d not even known for a full half hour.

“I have someone and I love her, I really do. She’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted and I can’t possibly betray her. She’s my soulmate.”

"You can't. Not if it's not me. I want you...I crave you...I need you." Ally’s voice was weak and she looked like she was ready to cry. Her chest heaved as she spoke, her voice wavering. "Please."

Your eyes locked with her, lip quivering as you a pressure in your chest.

A voice broke the two of you from your staring contest, "What the hell is going on here?" You could see Ally’s jaw lock as she turned towards the woman. "What do you want, Howard?" Ally moved between you and Billie, squaring her shoulders.

"I want what you took from me." Billie furrowed her eyebrows, training her eyes on you. You started to panic; on one hand you wanted to leave with Ally. Because you were attracted to her the moment you started talking. You couldn’t explain it, like you had known her forever and you were only catching up. It was like those cliché movies with the high-school sweethearts that loose touch and then reconnect. But on the other hand, you had been with Billie for so long and you loved her with your whole heart. You loved Billie so much it scared you. Billie was the type of first love that never went away. So you just stood there, looking between the two in agony.

"I haven't taken shit from you." Ally huffed, her eyes shooting daggers at the three girls in front of her. Misty and Cordelia stood tall at Billie’s sides, their eyes fixated on Ally.

Ally’s eyes flickered to you then back at Ally and you could see Ally tense even more. As Ally turned around, you could see the tears starting to pool in her eyes. "She's your..." Ally let out a deep sigh as you nodded.

Ally was sure you could hear her heart breaking in her chest. "Darling, come here." Billie said gently, motioning you to come to her. You hesitated for a second before slowly making her way over to her. You could just barely feel Ally’s hand brush against her wrist.

Billie quickly pulled you into her arms with a tight squeeze, "Thank God, you’re okay.” She breathed into your hair. You nuzzled your face in Billie’s neck and let the tears fall.

You had chosen Billie, you had chosen your home. You knew that, even if you had left with Ally, Billie would always be on your mind. You were in love.

The sound of Ally’s car pulling away caused both of you to let out a breath. Billie pressed your lips together before the sound of rapid footsteps and policemen shouting broke your moment. Billie pulled away, her face breaking into a wicked grin. "Run."

Taglist: @mssallymckenna , @proudnlittle , @coxmicbabygirl , @sapphicpaulsxn , @its-soph-xx , @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k , @paulsonix , @madamevirgo , @saucy-sapphic , @kikaykimkim , @billiedeansbottom

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 19/?

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note:

Warnings: Mentions of the court system, fighting, swearing, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

 Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Time Skip lol, February, next year. Finals.

She and Jason had been together for 6 months around February. When finals started coming up. The distance and tension between the two was fucking palpable. They hadn't fought or anything, but the stress between them had caused a slight riff. They just had space to focus on their studies.

They would see each other at work. She was his secretary. Everyone, all their friends, even their families, swore they just needed to bone. Which, considering they both heard about this from Bruce first, didn't mean they wanted to do it.

If you had asked Y/N, she would have said she wasn't dressing for Jason. But that was a lie. She was tempted to go with the advice everyone was giving them, especially before they went into their first finals exam. She walked into his office.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, I'm your secretary. Seeing if you need anything."

"I don't."

She turned to walk out.

"That doesn't mean you can walk out."

She smiled to herself, "Alright." She sat on the chair in front of his desk, "I won't walk out."

"Mhm."

She frowned, he didn't even look up from his computer. "What do you want me here for, Jay?"

"Close the blinds on all my windows, baby."

"It'll become dark."

"Good."

"Your eyes will fry from the light of your computer."

"Trust me, they won't."

"Uh-huh," she doubted as she closed the blinds.

Jason walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head in the crook of her shoulder. She smiled and leaned her head on his.

"Exams fucking suck," Jason said.

"Couldn't have guessed from the riff in our relationship, really? You don't say?" she sarcastically retorted.

"It's not like we had it easy this entire time, either."

"Fuck you don't say? At least my attacker was admitted to Arkham and my friends got out."

"Can't catch a break," he paused because his buzzer went, "Can't catch a fucking break!" he exclaimed, exasperated. He went and answered it, "Jason Todd, who's using Y/N (Last Name)'s buzzer," he said, sounding annoyed.

"Hey, it's Dick. You two aren't fucking right, B will be pissed."

"Shut up. We aren't. What do you want."

"Someone's pissed. I need paperwork."

"Come and get it."

She crossed her arms and laughed when Dick entered the room. She slightly waved. He slightly waved back.

"You know, you two should bone. But not here," Dick joked. He walked over to one of the many, many filing cabinets to search for the paperwork he needed.

"You're really just riding the wave into Jason running you down, aren't you?" Y/N said.

"Well, we're always up for sparring."

"It probably won't be sparring, Dick. You know your brother. He's staring daggers into the back of your head."

"For Valentine's, I'll be giving Barbara the stress of taking care of me after Jason beats me to a pulp."

"At least you'll get one last Gala?" she joked.

"Will you be coming?"

"She will," Jason said.

"Amazing. Don't fuck on the dance floor," Dick joked.

"Fuck you."

"Love you too, Jase," he turned to walk out, "Love you too, Y/N."

"I'll be sure to tell you I love you at your funeral, Dick," she joked as he walked out. She paused before turning to Jason, "Gala?"

"Come, please," he said before going to hug her. "I miss you."

"You see me every day, Love."

"But we haven't been," he paused, "Well, a couple. In weeks. I miss you. The fun one who got me to run down the streets of Gotham on a skateboard."

"Dress code?"

"White tie."

"Dammnit. Guess I'm shopping."

"I'll give you my debit card?"

"I don't need it, baby. However," she joked, "I sure will take it."

He laughed and forked it over to her, "Don't spend my Ph.D. funds."

"I will gladly spend your Ph.D. funds."

"No," he laughed, "Please, I need those."

"I mean if you insist I spend it all," she said, laughing.

"The Gala's later tonight, you can take the rest of the day off."

"Kind of you to do."

"I know, I'm a gentleman."

"Truly," she kissed him. "I'll see you tonight."

"Can I come to get you?"

"Feel free too."

"Alright. I love you."

"I love you," she said before she left the office.

Getting into her car, she fumbled with the mirror a bit. She looked like a mom. The bags under her eyes and the formal get-up for an office job did her in.

They had said "I love you" for the first time around Christmas. She wished she caught the moment where they were fucking around and she just said it.

The Christmas lights surrounded them, hung in the trees. They had gone to see the New York City tree in Times Square. He was setting up a photo to take of the two of them and she just said it.

She could have sworn his fucking eyes lit up with green. Like they glowed.

Reminiscing on those small moments with Jason was something that would make her smile without fail. That man somehow unlocked a new set of feelings, stronger feelings. She was in touch with herself.

She went to her house first, to see how A/N was doing. To see her on the steps. She pulled into the driveway.

"Hey, you good?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, of course. Why?"

"I have to go get a dress for a Wayne Gala trademark, do you want to come to help me?"

"Of course I do!"

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

"I guess you could say we didn't narrow shit down about a dress," Y/N joked as she came out in the 16th dress she had tried on.

"Okay, well, that one is the best so far," A/N said, seeming like they finally made progress.

"Wow, this is news, we've narrowed it down."

"Honestly consider it a miracle. Thank God Jason let you go from work early. Are you getting a full day's pay?" A/N asked.

"Probably. I told Bruce I didn't want a full day's pay if I wasn't there, but Bruce said it was in my contract. I think he's just being generous," Y/N said with a sigh.

"Did you not read your contract?"

"I did! That's why I think he's being generous. I don't think I'd forget something like that."

"Watch you did forget those words. You should ask him to see your contract, if he's disobeying it then the board members are probably at his ass about it," A/N explained.

"God, please no. I would hate being a contention point for the board members."

"They probably want you fired. And they're probably mad that you won't be fired because you're with Jason."

"Well, I'm also just a great secretary"

"See, each time you say that I assume it's because you give him a little something-something under his desk every day."

"I'll have you know we've never had sex in that office."

"Did you have sex in another office?" A/N questioned.

"I'm pleading the 5th to any further questioning."

"Wait, oh my god."

"Nope! Going to go try on another dress and ignore you now!" Y/N exclaimed with a joking tone.

"This one's the best," A/N said.

"We're making progress! I'm thinking if I go with this one, I add gloves."

"God, are you trying to give Jason a hard-on?"A/N joked.

"I would like to plead the 5th to any further questioning on the matter," Y/N retorted.

"You're evil. If you're going to be evil, you might as well wear a suit."

"I wish. After all the shit I've been through, I want to stick it to the fucks who keep judging me. I'm already so jeopardized, though. Jason goes through a lot of shit dating me. I'll wear the dress."

"Old white people are old white people."

"Well, Bruce is nice at least. If he's judgemental, at least I don't hear about it on the news," Y/N said and twirled. "Yeah, this one. I like this one."

"I also like that one. There's something about silk. Always gets someone to look like 50 million dollars. Probably worth that too."

Y/N fumbled with the tag, "It's not pure silk, so it's less. Only 1000$."

"Only 1000$? God, that's like our rent."

"Rent is more."

"Well if we weren't in a house it would be the same. That's insane. That's like 3-4 months of groceries."

"I know it's a lot to us commonfolk, but Jason is rich. He wouldn't mind. We might, but he wouldn't."

"Yeah, but do you feel okay with spending that much of his money?"

"I have no idea. We'll see. I'll go try another dress on."

"This is cute," Y/N said.

"Well of course it is, it's probably worth your college scholarship, though."

"God, don't remind me of prices."

"It's hard to forget prices when we're given a lot of money to spend."

"We can't spend all of it!"

"What's he using it for?" A/N asked in a half-joke.

"He's getting a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology when we graduate."

"Okay, okay. So he needs it."

"Yeah, he doesn't let Bruce pay his bills, remember. He's making his own money, minus the working-for-his-dad part."

"Yeah, the working for Bruce part seems a bit counterintuitive."

"If he's getting paid, it doesn't matter to him."

"What's it even like working with his family? Especially with the tension between you and Jason?"

"It sucks. Jason and I haven't fought, yet. We have to act like we aren't fighting. Which makes everyone think we are fighting. Which makes both of us mad. Because apparently," she paused, "The way to fix fighting is having sex, apparently."

"So have sex?"

"Shut up."

"Family on your nerves?" A/N asked.

"They're so involved, but I love them all. I just wish we had a moment alone, I know it's hard to do in a fucking office, but still."

"Go try on another dress. Show up looking like a million bucks."

"You are simply so right."

"I feel like this is the mature version of the black sparkly spaghetti straps one," A/N said.

"It's like you mashed a bunch of words together and suddenly I have to sell you my first-born son."

"Well, it's true!" She laughed, "It's a grown-up version, what someone, old white people, would expect of you."

"Old white people expect a lot."

"Jason's going to be one, one day," A/N joked.

"He's got not-white features," Y/N said, trying to picture his face. There was something about him. Something not-white. She had always picked up on it, but she could never tell what it was.

"Well, it's not like you can ask his mom her ethnicity."

"Jeez, that would be so rude of me to do. Let's just say it's... it's not my place."

"He's got secrets?" A/N questioned.

"Tall, handsome, mysterious. That's my Jason."

"A little bit of everything, all of the time," A/N said in a sing-song tune, specifically the "Welcome to the Internet" tune.

"Don't quote Bo Burnham to me, that album broke me," Y/N joked

"Who didn't it break? Oh, wait, probably Jason."

"He probably sobbed like a baby at it, I don't know where you got the "Emotionless" trope from, A/N."

"Can you blame me? He's a Wayne."

"Those are some of the most emotionally connected people I know? Like, genuinely, they're probably more in touch with themselves than you and I."

"Well, they don't exactly have the reputation for being able to discern their emotions, you know."

"You need to stop interacting with tabloids and their articles," Y/N said, seeming exasperated with the tabloids and the line of conversation. But that was nothing new. She hated the press, the articles, the paparazzi. She hated them all.

"Yeah, probably. You hate them for a reason."

"Do you not know about that time they made it so we couldn't get into our car?" Y/N asked.

"You did, you did."

"Fuckin' tabloids."

"Go try on another dress before you explode from rage."

"Valid," Y/N said, laughing.

"God, if only this wasn't a white tie event," Y/N said and sighed.

"I mean, you could just wear it."

"I will get my ass handed to me, however," she said, taking a picture, "Maybe Jason will just let me get it if I pay him back?"

"You don't have the money right now?" A/N asked.

"I need to get paid and I'll have enough," Y/N explained.

"Don't tell me this is worth more than our rent."

"I will just simply not tell you."

"Girl, you can't."

"Money is dumb and I hate it."

A/N laughed, "Which one do you want to go with?"

"Uh, probably the silk one."

"Temptress."

"I will literally buy and wear a corset to make Jason's life hard to get you off my back," Y/N laughed.

"I implore you to do so for the joke."

"Shut up," Y/N joked.

She still sent the picture of the last dress to Jason off-handedly. Asked him how he felt about it since she knew she loved it.

Why don't you just get it? He had sent back.

Can't afford it.

I can.

Please let me pay you back for this.

Just take me on a date.

I can do that.

You should.

I'll see you soon.

She laughed and grabbed both dresses.

"Jason's buying both?" A/N asked.

"Mhm! I have to take him on a fun date in return."

"You were probably going to do it both ways, honestly."

"You just know me so well."

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

They had gone and gotten the gloves before heading back to their house. Laughing and blasting rock songs the entire time. There was something about the bass running through the car and having the windows rolled down while screaming the songs. It was insane.

One of the songs they blasted was "I Think I'm OKAY" by Machine Gun Kelly and YUNGBLUD, switching out the vocals. It was fun to take breaks like that and, just enjoy each other's presence. Especially during finals season, where both of them were stressed because of their respective finals.

Everyone was stressed. Finals did that to everyone. Whether someone was in school or not, they felt the teenagers and college students lose their minds about it.

They got out of the car at their home and took the dresses inside. A/N went to go study in her room while Y/N went to go hang up her dresses. She entered her room and instantly remembered why she hated her laptop.

The laptop fan was deafening, it's why she barely had Jason over at her house anymore. She cleaned it constantly but, it kept going and going.

She brought it to the Wayne Manor over the Winter Break because she had work to do but wanted to see Jason, and everyone, everyone, commented on the thing.

They compared it to a screaming goat, an electronic mess, a horse-powered fan, anything they could put together with electronic, goat and fan, they called the laptop that.

Bruce even offered to buy her a new one, but she declined. She didn't think it was broken, so it didn't need to be replaced or fixed. If it was still in working condition, she was going to use it until it bluescreened on her.

Much to everyone's dismay.

She hated the fucking thing. So if she could drown it out with music, you bet your ass she did. She was grateful that her parents had sent it to her, but she assumed it was because they hated it too. She was right. No one liked that laptop.

She went to go shower. She figured if she fucked with her appearance and hair a bit, then the press would get off her back. She hadn't exactly tried to impress them thus far. But she wanted to just live her life.

She figured doing her hair, makeup, wearing the right clothes, she'd get harassed less. There was a lot of pressure dating a Wayne, she had realized.

She was constantly in the media, somehow she became an idol for little girls in the span of months. It was a lot for someone to take on. She embraced it normally. With open arms normally.

But A/N had told her that she started sleep-talking. Screaming about the eyes, the people watching her. She knew it was probably connected to the stress she was under dating Jason, but she really didn't want to deal with it.

If she ignored it, no one could tell her to deal with it. If she hid it, no one had to see it. She was looking into soundproofing her room so that A/N didn't have to see it.

Was it healthy to do that? Probably not. Probably far from the concept of healthy coping mechanisms.

She got out of the shower and started playing with her appearance. If she ended up with loud makeup and hair after this, she was going to just accept it.

She did end up with pretty loud eyeshadow. But her hair was fine, as acceptable as it could get for everyone judging her. Only nude lipstick that was just two, maybe three shades darker than her skin was what she needed. She kind of overdid the eyeshadow, so it had to be balanced.

Nerves by Icon for Hire was playing in her room. And in a way, that was how she felt. There was a lot of feeling in her, that she wasn't made for the life she was starting to lead. That being an idol was how she was going, but she couldn't do it.

She sighed and put on heels. White heels. It would be easier to put them on before the dress and gloves. The corset came on next. IT wasn't anything special, and she was capable of putting it on without help.

But then the dress.

"She loved that dress, but it wasn't the other one. The other one sparked a little bit of joy in her, while this one just conformed to everyone's opinions of her.

She wanted to wear the other one, so, so, fucking badly.

And finally the gloves. It was an outfit she thought was cute but would be torn to shreds in the media. She knew that.

The media liked to eat her alive.

Part of her wanted a break from it all. The other part wanted to do an interview with the press, to shit-talk all of them and make them weep. She wanted to be the one to destroy them.

Revenge was best served cold though, and the rage was far too hot in her head to even begin a proper essay on why they sucked.

She turned off the music in her room and was greeted with the lovely sounds of her computer fan. Comforting, but hatred.

Jason was going to be there any minute. Was she even ready for a Gala?

They had been through so much.

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

She walked to his car. He brought one of the fancy ones.

"You couldn't just like, own a not expensive car?" she joked.

"Why would I do that?"

She laughed and handed him his debit card, "I don't know, to keep the press off your ass?"

"I think they'd find us no matter what," he said as he backed out of her driveway, "You look beautiful by the way."

"Thank you, Love. You're as handsome as always."

"Simp."

"Alas, I admit it," she joked as she turned on the radio. "I swear the media is going to have a field day today."

"When do they not?"

"That's fair."

"I'm sorry this school year's been fucking our relationship," he sighed, "We deserve better and a better chance than what we've been dealt."

"Unfortunately that's how school works."

"Fuck school sometimes. Not everyone gets as hit as badly as us."

"It's the psychology teachers. If any teachers are strict, they are."

"We still deserve a break."

"Well, there's always when finals are over."

"I swear we're doing something nice when finals end."

"That's not that hard to do."

The tension in that car was palpable. Truly, you could cut that with a knife. A diamond's edge.

They got to the Gala before anyone, except the Waynes.

"Hey lot," Y/N said.

"Y/N! Glad you could make it!" Stephanie said and pulled her into a hug, "The guys suck, so I like you the most today."

She laughed, "What did they do?"

"They won't play rooftop tag with me."

"Why do you even play that game?" Y/N asked.

"Agility! I'm a track star, duh. I drag them with me."

"Ah, how could I be so foolish," she laughed as Stephanie pulled her towards the other girls. Y/N waved at the boys while laughing. "You do know I have a boyfriend who wants to see me, right?"

"It's Jason."

"Good observation."

"Shut up. I claim you."

"You can't claim me!" she jokingly exclaimed, loud enough for the boys to hear.

"Steph, that's my girlfriend!" Jason yelled back.

"Not anymore!" She yelled as she pulled Y/N into the building.

"Explanation?" Y/N asked, "Do you have an issue or something?"

"I don't. Babs does."

"Go on?"

"Ask her."

Y/N sighed and walked up to Barbara and Cassandra, "I heard you have an issue or something?"

"Yes! You! Okay so," Barbara said, "We're all worried about you and Jason."

"Oh, Jeez," Y/N sighed.

"No no, listen. We can feel the tension. Have you been fighting?"

"I told you before, we aren't."

"Then what is it? 'Cause I'm known for being a detective, hello, I'm Jim Gordon's daughter. And even I can't figure it out."

"Probably exams. Exams suck."

"Oh! It's because you're not used to the fame," Cassandra said.

"Okay, Cassie. Listen, it's-"

"It is isn't it!" Stephanie exclaimed.

"Ugh. Yes. Are you happy now?"

"C'mon, it isn't that bad is it?" Barbara asked.

"It is. They've been at my throat with daggers ever since I met Jason."

"Who's been at your throat with daggers?" Jason asked.

"Don't worry about it," Y/N said before anyone could open their mouths and say to the contrary.

"Well, then. Everyone should be here soon," Bruce said. "Wish we had entertainment this time."

"Can't Y/N sing?" Tim asked.

"Uh, yeah?" Y/N said.

"So sing," Tim said.

"Tim. C'mon. Don't do me like this, man."

"Think about it," Bruce said and put a hand on her shoulder, "It could be fun."

She laughed and everyone scattered except her and Jason.

"So, the daggers comment?" he asked.

"Media reference."

He sighed, "You can always step out of the spotlight, my love. Step down, walk away from their eyes but still be in mine."

"I'll think about it."

He took her hands, "You should think quicker," he joked.

She laughed and he pulled her into the ballroom she knew all-too-well at this point. The first time she was there ran through her mind like no one was watching, the beauty in her memory for capturing it like that.

She knew once the pictures were released she'd probably attempt to paint it.

Galas were stuffy and full of people. She didn't like the people aspect. When strangers would come up to her and start talking, she'd get freaked out. They knew her, but she didn't know them.

She wasn't involved in getting to know people high-up in the world. She was a simple secretary who was dating one of the CEOs.

She'd get twirled around by people's sons. Stuck in dances and conversations. She almost always found herself with one of the Waynes after she ran from someone she didn't know.

She did figure if she sang she'd get away from everyone. So, in a fit of trying to get away, she found her way to Selina.

"Hey!" she said.

"Y/N! Are you running again?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you want to sing or something, Bruce said he asked you to."

"He did, and I figured, "Fuck it" so here I am."

Jason came up just as she said that, "Duet?" he asked.

"Now that's an idea and a half."

"You kids, always doing crazy stuff," Selina joked, "Le me see what I can do for 'ya."

"We're really doing this?" Jason asked as Selina slinked off.

"I guess so!" she exclaimed and he pulled her in for a kiss.

"Really saying "Fuck you" to the press today, huh?"

"Well, they're always saying "Fuck you" to me."

[kingsuckjin]

Drive

>Pairing: virgin/sub/office co-worker Namjoon x reader

>Genre: coworker au, smut

>Warnings: uhhhh Joon  is a bit subby, he’s a virgin, public sex/ car sex, fingering (f receiving) reader is a dom, kinda soft, corruption kink

>Rating: 18+ (for smut)

>Synopsis: You get fired and expect it to be a lot worse of a day then it actually is. your friend the IT guy at the office comes to your rescue.

> Words: 3.5k

Authors note: hello, drunk Moon here! I wrote this because it was requested by @bresilienne-ami I’m so sorry it took forever to do, lovely. Don’t give any credit to sober Moon because she doesn’t deserve it. Also I didn't make a banner for this I’m sorry

“I’m sorry but your subpar work just isn’t cutting it, we’re letting you go. Please gather your things and vacate the premises.” 

That’s what he said. Your boss sat there in his fancy chair, not giving a fuck, seeming proud of himself for his words. He didn’t care that you worked your ass off for the past few years at this job praying all your work paid off in the form of a raise or a promotion just for him to call you a different name the handful of times he ever acknowledged your existence. He didn’t care that you didn’t know how to find a new job on such a short term, he didn’t even give you two weeks’ notice. He probably didn’t even care that because of this you might have to move back in with your parents for a while. You felt like you had failed, but you were more than heartbroken as you stormed through the maze of cubicles towards your own where your desk was, clutching the box that your boss had handed you with somewhat of a smile, you were pissed. The silent stares you knew that you were getting only angered you more, you felt like a circus clown like they wanted a good show. You felt like screaming at them “what are you looking at?!” but then again maybe they pitied you. You probably had mascara running down your tear-soaked cheeks, they probably knew what had happened from the way you were acting.

It didn’t matter, you just wanted out of there, and the looks and silence from them only made you rethink even taking the time to get your things at all. 

You held the box against the side of your desk as you carelessly raked your things into it with teary, blurred vision.you had worked so hard just to toss years worth of being here into a box.

You felt so alone, no one had said a word to you, your mind raced with pain and anger as you took your filled box and began to quickly race towards the elevator. You saw that elevator as the light at the end of this nightmare tunnel, it would shield you from the staring, from the gawking, from the pity. You did your best to hold back the wall of sobs that were threatening to break forth and bring you to your knees as you thought about how someone could be so cold and just fire you as if you weren’t even a person.

In it the midst of your thought and rushing, you could feel your foot catch on something, next thing you were sent falling forward. The bottom of the box fell through and you and your things went crashing to the floor.

You wanted to just lay there, to just give up and hope you melted and soaked into the floor so you could just get away as fast as you could from this embarrassing situation.

“Here” someone muttered. You had been engrossed in your self-pity and stares from the others you hadn’t even realized the one and the only person you ever counted on was here to rescue you.

You pushed yourself off the floor as he concentrated on taking the box on the floor gathering your things and putting them back inside, carefully holding the now broken bottom so they all didn’t fall through. You looked at the man as he pushed his round glasses up onto his face and stood. He took the box under one of his arms and outreached the other arm to you to help you up, which you graciously took.

“Let me walk you to your car, okay?”  he announced more so than asked, he was already heading towards the elevator with your things leaving you to run along behind him to catch up.

You had spent so many lunches with this man, he was the only real not standoffish one here, the only one that was easy to talk to and get along with. Maybe because it was because he was young like you, or maybe because he was an outcast at this place like you. Kim Namjoon worked in IT, he was shy, stuttered when nervous combined with his little habit of pushing his glasses upon his face. He was a bit of a nerd, or that’s what people said around the office, but you had always seen him as nothing more than a friend. 

As you were accompanied out the doors of the building and into the parking lot, you were still holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. The walk to your car was silent, but he seemed to stall with the box in his hand as you stopped next to your car.

“I’m- I’m so sorry.” Namjoon's eyebrows furrowed and his voice took on a tone that dripped with guilt and pity for you.

“It’s alright,” you said weakly as you took the box from him, careful to hold the button as he had. “I’m uh-” your voice broke and shook just a bit making you clear your throat and avoid eye contact with the man whom you had spent a lot of lunches with, the man who had just witnessed your near meltdown over being fired.

“For what it’s worth, he’s probably going to fire me too, he never liked either of us. Jokes on him though, I have another job lined up already, better paying too. Hey! I could put in a good word for you! I bet they’d have a spot open, it’s run by an old friend, and I bet I could-”

“Ah Joonie, you don’t have to do that.” you wondered how bad he had felt for you to offer this.

“I know, but what would lunch be without my lunch friend? If I’m switching jobs you might as well come with me, you know? I can give my friend a call tonight. You’re a good and dedicated worker and I’m sure he won’t say no.”

“Really?” you felt your tears and emotions subside for a moment and make way for a little excitement and relief.

“Of course.” he gave a little chuckle as he looked down at the pavement of the parking lot “You did tolerate being friends with the office nerd for the past few years, it’s the least I could do.” 

“I never once thought you were a nerd Joonie, they were all just dicks.” you smiled at his smile from your honesty.

“Hey, uh, listen…” he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose once again and ran a hand through his hair. “If you’re not doing anything tonight maybe… would- would you want to- go out for dinner? You know? As a celebration dinner for not- not having to put up with that dictator anymore.” he thumbed towards the building behind him “Y-you don’t have to, it’s-”

The more he went on the more he seemed to stutter and that let you know he was nervous.

“Yeah actually, let’s do that. You still have my number, right?”

He gave you a dimpled smile as he nodded.

“Is eight okay? You want to pick me up?” you asked as you shoved the box haphazardly into your back seat. 

“Y-yeah, okay. I’ll text you,” he assured you.

You opened the driver’s side door but paused a moment before taking the few steps back over to him and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks for making all of this a lot better Joon.” 

You didn’t need to turn back around and see his face to know he wore such a cute flustered look, you had seen it before when casually flirting with him, you had always adored it, as a matter of fact, you more than adored it. He was always so shy and quiet and to be honest that was your thing, you often found yourself daydreaming about what he’d be like in bed. Would he let you take control over him? Would he switch into someone more aggressive? Tonight you were determined to find out, you had a bad enough day and decided that the dick of the gentlemanly coworker you had been thirsting after for years might make it all so much better.

He picked you up right at eight, still in his crisp white work shirt and black slacks, freshly off work. His car had the same smell like him. He made small talk the entire drive but you found yourself staring at your knight in shining armor. You liked how the lights from the street poured into the dark car occasionally and lit his smooth skin and glittered off those glasses that seemed too big for his face. You itched to touch him, you felt like you were wasting time already, you decided to test the waters, so when he was mid-sentence you placed a hand just above his knee. He paused a moment and you knew if he was about to reject you or if he asked you to move your hand, you would and simply just have a normal friend dinner with him then you would gladly do that instead, you did like spending time with him after all and you knew he wasn’t the kind of person to hold something like a little crush against you forever.

He didn’t stop you though, he didn’t move your hand, he just ignored it and continued about how he knew the guy who would hopefully soon be your new boss and how cool he was.

You honestly didn’t know where to go from there, dinner was casual, it was sweet, he took you to a nice steak house and paid, saying that you were “currently jobless” in a joking way. You had had so many lunches with him in the break room, you had eaten together before, but this time it felt so different. He seemed to stare more, stutter more, push up his glasses more and that was a sure sign of nervousness. You tried to join in on the conversation and not seem too boring in hopes he would want to do this again with you one day, but you honestly couldn’t get the thought of completely dominating him out of your head. 

You didn’t make another move though, you were too worried he was just too shy or afraid to tell you not to. On your way home, just as you were figuring you were probably better off as friends any way he asked a strange question. 

“Can we pull over and talk? I-I’d like to talk a little if that’s- that’s  alright?” 

“Of course, I’m in no rush to get home.” you replied knowing that this was it, he was about to give you the “we’re only friends” talk.

He said nothing else until he parked in a back empty parking lot of a store that had closed down months ago. Then he turned the car off, and simply just sat there a moment. 

You wondered if you should ask what he wanted to talk about or start apologizing for your inappropriate behavior on the way to dinner when he finally turned to you, not making eye contact.

“I-I-I…” he stopped a moment and sighed, seeming a little aggravated at his stuttering “I wish I didn’t do that.” he then muttered. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.” you urged listening closely.

“I’m bad at this whole thing.” he gave a short sad laugh, more like a short breath than anything “I’m a virgin… is why.” he stared out the windshield as he spoke, seeming regretful once he did it.

“Hm,” you said and gave a little shrug and that’s when he looked at you again, inspecting your nonchalant reaction.

“You probably guessed that, right?” he let his forehead fall on the steering wheel and closed his eyes “why am I so dumb and obvious?” he seemed to ask himself.

“I guessed that you liked it rough in bed, like a lady in the streets but a freak in the bed, you know?” 

He lifted his head and looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“First of all, did you just quote an Usher song after I told you I was a virgin? Secondly, I am not whatever you thought I was.” his laugh was more of an amused one this time.

“I did. I did quote Usher. What do you say we find out though how you are in bed, right here, right now? I mean I’m not a virgin, but I’m a car sex virgin so it would be like we’re taking each other’s virginities.” you joked.

His eyes nearly went as wide as his mouth had fallen.

“N-n-now? Here? In my car?”

“Sure” you shrugged “Unless you’re opposed to it.” you shrugged once again.

His reply was a rapid shake of his head.

“Good,” you replied as you made your way over the center console that separated the both of you until your knees sat on both sides of his lap, straddling it. 

You now face to face and he looked you in the eye but seemed so speechless. You didn’t need to hear him stutter to know that he was nervous, his quick breaths were the only noise in the quiet car.

You connected your lips to his and the result was a slow but passionate kiss, no tongue, nothing too fancy. 

When you pulled your head back away from him you decided to ask to make sure this was what he wanted.

“Are you sure you want this?” You didn’t have to wait long for your whispered question to be answered.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this. Turns out you- you weren’t the- the only one who has imagined what the other would be like in bed.” you watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed down his nervous stuttering “do what you want, how you want it. S-show me what you like”

With his confirmation you reached down to the side of his seat, letting it fall back until he was lying horizontally.

“Let’s have some fun then Joon.” you leaned down over him hiking up your best dress so that your thighs were freer and your purposefully worn sexiest panties were exposed and could grind against his dress pants and hardening bulge in them.

When your lips met with his they were more hungry and less gentle than the first time. Your tongue found his and encouraged it to play with yours.

He seemed less and less nervous as time went by, even placing his hands on your ass and squeezing in rhythm with your still clothed but damp core grinding into his erection under his dress pants. You undoubtedly needed more though, you craved to fluster him more, you wanted him to feel what he was doing to you, how he was absolutely wrecking you without doing anything at all.

“Touch me.” you pried your lips from his to demand.

“I-I- I’ve done that part before but I-I-” you lifted his hand and guided it to tour soaked panties and he began to touch you through the material, letting his fighters over where your clit lie underneath the sticky material.

“So good, you’re doing so good.” you moaned just desperate for his touch to the point where you would take anything from him. He sucked in a breath at your praise. 

“Like that? What if I…” he slipped his hand down the front of your panties, pulling them down just enough to reach inside and once again run his fingers over your slit, but this time with nothing separating you from his touch.

“Do you feel how wet I am for you? I want you so badly.” you took hold of his wrist and guided his fingers until they were inside of you.

“Fuck.” he breathed a shaky breath. “So tight.” 

You bounced a little on his two fingers taking them inside of you.

“Tell me that you dreamed of me taking your cock.” you moaned as you imagined it yourself.

“I have. I have for so long. Please fuck me.” he seemed so desperate and a tingle ran through you at how much you enjoyed the sound of him being so needy for you.

“Beg me Namjoon. Beg me to be the first to take your cock, show me how much you want me.” 

“Please please please, please. Be my first, I want it, I want you,” he whispered sweetly and still breathlessly.

“Pull down your pants.” You ordered. his fingers left your pussy you couldn’t help but see the slick sheen of them as he fumbled with his pants. You leaned over into your seat and took the condom in your bag out that you had put there in hopes this all went well.

You opened the wrapper and rolled the latex down over his now exposed cock he had been slightly stroking. You were impressed with his size, he was hiding something pretty big in those dress pants all those years, maybe if you would have known all of this you would have offered to fuck him sooner, but you tried not to dwell on all of that, you just wanted to feel his cock fill you. 

Your hips hovered over him, ready to take him at any second. 

“Wait, we’re in p-public we could get in-”

“Trouble? You want to back out of this now?” you questioned with a raise of an eyebrow.

“No, no, no. I’m doing this.” he was determined, he reached for his glasses to take them off, but you stopped him.

“Leave them, I want you to see my face clearly when I cum for you, on your cock buried inside of me.” with that you lowered yourself down onto him. You didn’t take it too slowly when you finally had him entirely inside of you, you began to rock your hips right away, leaving him moaning and gripping your hips tightly with every movement. 

It was bliss to finally have him in you, to be wrecking him underneath you like this, to hear him cursing with sensitivity under his hard, quick breaths.

You were leaning in so far forward to sporadically kiss him and bite at his lips roughly, that your clit rubbed against his pubic bone with every movement. 

“You like that Joonie? You like the way you feel inside of this pussy?” You teased.

“Fuck.” he repeated among groans of pleasure with his eyes shut. “What-what id I accidentally-”

“It’s alright, it’s your first time, but try to hang in there and let me play with you just a little longer.” you coached, but you were already riding him so fast, just seconds from your orgasm, you were so out of breath and all you wanted was to let him feel you cum around him. You wanted to ruin him for life, and from the fucked out expression on his face you seemed to be doing your job. 

The nerdy guy from work was balls deep inside of you and you could feel his cock twitching and hard, ready to release any second and finally give you what you had been daydreaming of for so many years. 

His normally neat hair was a mess and his glasses were askew as his fingers dug further into your skin.

“Namjoon I’m so close.” you panted as you forced your hips to move faster. His jaw was viably clenched as he viably also struggled to hang on. 

He slammed his hips up into you in time and that was what did it.

You gripped his white dress shirt and he let out a long moan. His cock twitching as you felt him release into the condom dragged out your high. You could only watch his furrowed brows as he seemed to hold your hips in place as he came.

Then you were left staring at each other, heavy breathed and not saying anything for a moment

“Y-you know, even if I wasn’t a virgin, that would have p-probably sill been the best sex of my life.” 

You let out a laugh as you climbed off of him and back into your seat, pulling down your dress as you did so.

“Yeah, I have to admit you weren’t too bad, especially for someone who’s never done that before. You have drive and dedication… I guess I should’ve seen that coming since you show that in your job.” you talked through him pulling off the condom, wrapping it in a napkin, and tossing it.

“At least you think so, I was fired today too. Jokes on him though, we both have new jobs now anyway.” he smiled and you let your surprise show on your face “I told you earlier but you didn’t seem to be listening, now I know where your mind was.” he said, making you laugh.

“And that’s where my mind will be from now on, we should do this more since we’re still coworkers, our little secret, yeah?” 

“As if I’d say no to the best sex of my life again.” he started the car and pushed his glasses back up.

“Still the only sex of your life, but I’m kind of glad it’s the only so you think it’s the best.” you snorted with laughter at your own statement.

“Like I said, even if it wasn’t my only and there were so many more before you, I swear it would still be the best.” he gave you a smile. you knew it was cheesy but it was still cute.

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending. 

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair. 

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked." 

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating. 

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 2: Her Devil, His Angel

*Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: Language, violence, reference to physical / emotional abuse, blood 

Author’s note: Hi everyone. Thank you for sticking with me. I am also uploading Be My Light up on AO3 under the same username. I’ll link below. Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think or what you liked about it. I get really excited when I see what you guys like. I hope you like it. 

Tag list: @lolalalooo​ @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng​, @barbikatherine​, @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0​, @iamnamjoonsbxtch​, @deathkat657​, @deeepvibes​

                                  Chapter 2: Her Devil, His Angel

               Almost there, you thought as you quickened your pace to your bus stop. Nothing had passed you on the road, so you were sure there was plenty of time before the bus arrived just beyond the construction. But with the morning you were having, you wouldn’t stop worrying until you were seated at the bench. You felt yourself smile a bit as you drew closer and closer to the shopping center; it was so large, and you were sure there were so many surprises lurking inside. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you could go in and find something special. 

               A black car went racing past you as breakneck speed, from seemingly nowhere, leaving you shivering from the blast wind that trailed behind. I must not be the only one having a crazy morning, you thought as your eyes followed the SUV’s taillights. As you passed in front of the construction zone, you saw the gate of the fence that surrounded it had been opened, leading to the paved entrance. Could the car have come from here? You stopped walking long enough to look around; nothing looked out of place, at least to you, and there didn’t seem to be any vandalism. Did they go inside? The chain on one of the doors had been unlatched and left hanging from the handle of the propped open doors. Or it would have been one of the workers checking on things and needed to leave quickly? You supposed there could be a lot of conclusions; instantly thinking something bad had happened just because of the gang activity wasn’t the best thing to ease your anxiety. It was best just to keep going. The bus stop was in sight at the edge of the fence.

               Before you could sit on the bench, you heard a loud ‘popping’ sound from the building behind you. You wanted to say it was a car backfiring or a firecracker, but it was too rapid to be anything else. Ever since you had lived in Central, you learned how to tell the difference. You could hear some loud yells that sounded like it was coming from the other side of the building. But the shots were coming from inside the building. You should run away and hide somewhere safe; you know you should. And you started to back away, reaching for your phone to call the police. You heard more yells and footsteps heading your direction. There was nothing close by to duck into, so you hid yourself behind a trashcan on the other side of the bench. Peering around, you see two large men, both dressed in black suits, holding semi-automatic handguns. They were looking, wildly, up and down the street. You prayed they wouldn’t find you, not knowing what would happen.

               “They’re not here! I don’t see a car anywhere! They must have got away,” one of the men said, out of breath.

               “What did you expect after that fucking chase? Everywhere they ducked into was rigged with one of Vante’s traps! I can’t believe that fucker got in there and did all that with no one noticing him. My eyes are still burning from that pepper spray.”

               “Tell me about it,” the first one replied, “On the third floor, he set off another smoke bomb and had trip wires all over the place. I almost busted my ass! He had every floor rigged with some kind of stupid trap. Yao went into an empty shop on the third floor and the security door came rolling down and locked him inside; they’re still trying to get him out.”

               “Well, Vante and the blond are gone. And Choi’s going to have our heads. No matter how many traps we suffered through.”

               “Maybe, but there are still the other two. I heard them chasing someone above us when we were pepper sprayed. Chen had said one of them was shot twice; there’s no way he’s making it out alive. Fairly sure it’s the youngest that’s still running around. Choi would be pleased if he could lay one of them out and get that secretive maknae they’re always protecting.  If we can corner him and capture him, that teaches them not to mess with the Royals. Let’s go check around back and help corner the fucking brat. Bet he’s hiding in some stairwell.”

               “As long as there’s no more damn traps…,” the other man trailed off in a low grumble.

               The two men turned and ran back towards the side of the building. So, the speeding car must have been who they were looking for. No wonder they were driving like their lives depended on it, you thought. Whoever they were looking for must have wandered into a gang meeting? And there were more still in the building, hurt, being hunted down. You needed to leave, call the police, protect yourself. But you found yourself looking back at the building, and a thought emerged that really affected you. For much of the life you remembered, you had been bullied. You wished, back then, someone had stood up to protect you. Now, after all the therapies and hard work, you were trying to stand up for others like you. These gangs were nothing but bullies and the city was you, looking for someone to take a stand and help. You knew you were nothing compared to the men with guns and weapons, but there were people who needed help. The police would take too long, and you couldn’t stand the idea of letting someone die. Sometimes people need to do scary things to help people. Your father had always helped people; as a police officer he had ran into danger. You were a nurse; you could help them until the authorities came. All you needed to do was stay out of sight. Suddenly, the person Amber wanted you to be took over and that scared girl hiding behind the trash can disappeared, as you stood up and eased over to the open fence, peering around to see if anyone was there.

               You pulled your phone out and called 911, quickly telling the operator what was going on; you were a nurse at Central Mercy, there was an active gang shooting with possible multiple injuries, and that you needed an ambulance to Central Mercy along with police. You hung up after the operator confirmed that they were on the way and to stay away from the scene. There was no talking you out of it. Someone needed to help before someone lost their life unnecessarily. The area around the open fence was clear of people, but from inside you could hear people were running around and yelling. You ran to the door, and slipped in once you saw the coast was clear.

               Inside was dimly lit, and every noise echoed in the open concrete building. You couldn’t see anyone on the ground level; the noises seemed to be coming from the upper floors, where you could hear people yelling commands, breaking glass, and throwing things around. Whoever they were looking for must be hiding. You moved, quietly, into the open food court area, looking for some sign. This is stupid, you are so stupid, you kept chanting as you kept moving. On a box next to you, there was a crowbar and you snatched it up, holding it as if it was a bat. It may not do anything against a gun, but it made you feel a little secure as more shots were fired above you. There was a bunch of yelling; from the sounds of it, they hadn’t caught the young man the ones outside had mentioned. And you hoped they wouldn’t. But then, you heard someone yell, ‘He’s running towards the fire escape! Take him down’. It was quickly followed by more shouting, more shots fired, a scream, and the sound of glass breaking.  As you made it to the fountain in the middle of the space, really wishing you would get out of there, you heard someone running. It was closer than the ones that echoed above you, and you could hear heavy breathing getting closer and closer. You crouched down against the wall of the fountain, gripping the metal bar tighter and trying to keep your breathing as quiet as you could. The footfalls got closer and closer, and they were not even steps like the two suited men from outside, and the breathing sounded labored and strained.

               Around a corner, the owner of the steps came into your view. It was not a suited man, but a younger looking man with sweaty, blond hair, and a pale face. He was alone and swaying on his feet as he moved, with difficulty, towards the fountain. His breathing came in harsh gasps. He stumbled and hit the ground hard, hissing and struggled to get back up. From your hiding spot, you saw there was a massive blood stain on the red coat he wore from a bullet wound in his shoulder, with blood dripping from his limp hand. His other arm was wrapped around his waist and his black shirt seemed like it was wet, as well. As he tried to push himself up, you saw blood on his other hand, too. This had to be the one the two gang members were talking about, the one who was hurt. Instantly, you felt your heart break seeing someone so hurt. As he struggled to push up on his shaky arm, he tilted his head up.

               Then, he finally noticed you.

               Your eyes locked with his dark brown eyes. At first, he just stared at you, as if he couldn’t figure out if you were real or not. His eyes – you couldn’t help but think that they were so captivating and beautiful- kept searching yours for some kind of sign, like he was expecting you to turn into something else. But then, he realized that you were not a figment of his pain-induced imagination and that you were really sitting there. His eyes got bigger as he pushed himself to get to his unsteady feet, but his arm gave out and he dropped back to the ground. Some of the strands of his blond hair were stained red from an open cut at his hairline.

               Before you could move to him, you heard someone coming. The young man heard them too and tried again to stand up, only to fall again. He turned his eyes back to you. His lips moved but you were so focused on the steps that you didn’t hear him. A man in a black suit, like the ones from outside, came around the corner. He looked around before his eyes fell upon the bleeding blond. The smile that cracked his face made your pulse race in your ears. It reminded you of the smile Daniel had shown you when you said you were leaving. The suited man let out a chuckle as he stalked over to the young man.

               “There you are, you son of a bitch. Who would have thought you would have made it this far in your condition. Choi’s going to be so happy that he’s gonna get to finish you off.” He kneeled down next to his prey and fisted his blond hair, pulling him up to his knees. “And I’ll get such a reward for capturing you. And it’s only a matter of time before they catch your little friend. Last I heard, they cornered him on the second floor. He almost made it to the fire escape. I can’t wait to see your face when I smash his skull against the floor. After Choi has his own fun, that is.”

               You couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping your lips as the mental image filled your mind. Two sets of eyes slid over to you. The suited man seemed startled at your presence and it took him a moment to fully process you. Slowly, that predator look he wore slipped back into place. He, roughly, released the youth and rose to his feet. His steps towards you were slow and heavy. And with each step, his well-tailored suit changed to a pair of worn jeans and a whiskey-soaked jacket. With each step, he became your ex as he stalked you against the wall of your apartment. Then back to the suited gang member with a gun in his belt. The edges of your vision started to darken and get fuzzy from panic. You pushed away from the fountain, trembling fingers releasing the only weapon you could protect yourself with, and tried to crawl away from his gaze. But he grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you back to his grasp. He grabbed you by the collar of your coat and crouched on top of you.

               Just like Daniel had done after he backhanded you for asking why you couldn’t leave.

               “Well, what do we have here? A little bitch who wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe? Do you belong to him? Or were you trying to play hero? What a fucking joke! You should have minded your own business! Now, I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson.”

               You just couldn’t be the happy little bitch I asked you to be. You had to go sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, Daniel’s voice echoed behind the suited man’s words.

               “No,” you gasp, not sure who you were responding to, “please stop. I’m sorry!”

               He pulled you up to your feet, fingers biting into your arms. “Sorry isn’t gonna help you. You’ve seen too much. I doubt the boss will want to keep you around for a quick fuck either; you’re not pretty enough for that.”

               You should be thankful someone like me even wants to be around you. You’re nothing but useless. You’re not even good looking. Not even pretty enough to call a girlfriend.

               Your heart was racing; all the emotions were flooding your mind. Suddenly, you were back in your old apartment wanting to leave to make everyone happier. Daniel was screaming at you, breaking down every shred of courage you had mustered to tell him you were leaving. His hands were bruising your arms as he was about to throw you against the coffee table when you moved towards the door. There was a crack echoing in your mind as your head contacted with the wood then the wall as he slammed you against it. No, this wasn’t happening again! But the suited man kept changing forms, both faces sharing that venomous smirk. You were gonna be a victim again, forever trapped by his words and actions.

You were useless.

               “No!” You squeezed your eyes shut and brought your knee up as hard as you could, hitting him right in the stomach. The man stumbled back and it gave you enough time to reach down for the crowbar and swing it up. It connected with Daniel’s face as he moved towards you again. You swung it again, and it hit the suited man in the back as he doubled over. With a surge of rage that had been hidden within all the fear and anxiety, you swung again and again.

               When the red in your vision faded, the suited man was on the ground, unmoving. You stared down at him, breathing hard. For a moment, you weren’t sure what had happened. Was he dead? How did that happen? The weight of the crowbar in your hand brought it back to you. You were protecting yourself the way you wished you had before. The suited man had triggered your memory so strongly that all that pent of anger Amber had always said needed to be addressed came surging out. You stared at the crowbar in utter shock. How did you do that? You glanced down at the unconscious suited man before you; you nudged him with your foot and let out a sigh of relief when he let out a moan. He may have been trying to attack you, but you really didn’t want to kill anyone. It went against your whole purpose of running into this hell hole.

Your eyes darted back to the bleeding man leaning heavily against the edge of the fountain. You dropped the crowbar, making a loud ‘bang’, and ran over to him, wrapping your arm around him and steading him. He, unknowingly, leaned his weight against you and his head pressed against your shoulder. You got a better look at his wounds; the cut on his forehead was long but not deep, and the gun shot wound in his shoulder was bleeding quite a bit. There was no exit wound, so the bullet was still lodged somewhere in his flesh. You reached down and moved his shirt from his side to see another gunshot wound, deep and heavily bleeding. He tried to push you away.

               “What are you doing here,” he hissed at you through clenched teeth. “Get out of here! They’ll kill you.”

               “I handled that one,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the suited man, “didn’t I?”

               “Barely. I could have handled him.” Was he seriously dismissing your effort? “A few lucky swings aren’t gonna save you from a gunshot. You need to get out of here. Just leave me here. They’re coming.”

               You eased his limp arm over your shoulder, wrapped your arm around his back to his uninjured side, and pulled him to his shaky feet. “I’m not leaving you here. You’ll either bleed out or whoever is looking for you will finish you off. Come on, I’m gonna get you out.”

               “You shouldn’t be in here. What were you thinking?”

               “Are you really berating me right now? I am trying to save you, you know. From where I’m standing, my lack of skills would have fared better than you. Why are you here, anyways?

               Despite his weakened state, the man struggled in your grasp, trying to push you away. “Are you crazy?”

               “No,” you said as you lead the way towards the door, “I’m a nurse at Central Mercy. And I don’t like bullies. Just focus on staying awake, alright? I promise I’ll get us out of here alive. And when we do, I want the full explanation of who I just knocked out and what I got myself into saving you. Deal?”

               “Whatever-“

               “Look down there,” you heard someone yell from behind you, “I heard something! He couldn’t have gotten far.”

               You felt the man flinch in your grip at the sound of the harsh voice. The sounds of heavy steps sounded like a rolling thunder in the wide space. There was no way you were going to make it out the door before someone noticed you, especially with the way the blond man was stumbling with each step. He was losing too much blood, and whatever headwound he had sustained had him straining to keep conscious. You looked around for something to hide behind. There were some boxes and crates but that wouldn’t be good enough. With the steps and voices getting closer, you made your way to one of the food service counters, and crouched down behind it. The thunder of footsteps seemed to patter off into different directions, but one could still be heard walking into the space. There was the sound of something scraping behind them. You braved to glance around the edge of the counter to see. At the fountain, right where you had hidden yourself a few moments ago, was a tall, well dressed man in a light blue suit. While he seemed the type to take care of his appearance, he looked crazed and disheveled. In one gloved hand, he held a gun while the other was a silver, ornate cane. His eyes were locked on the fallen man; This had to be the big boss based on his attire, you assumed. He made a noise of disappointment before turning his attention to a small pool of blood from where the blond had fallen. He dipped the edge of the cane in the crimson liquid, and brought it up to his eyes. At first, you worried he was going to taste it, like some modern vampire. But he smiled and started to walk forward, dragging the cane behind him, leaving a red trail. The way he stalked through the space you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. Your heart was beating so fast; this was beyond terrifying, but you needed to focus. You felt a shaky hand reach over and grab hold of yours. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. The young man, despite chiding you earlier, was trying to keep you from falling too far into your fear.  

               “I know you’re here, Agust,” the chilling voice called out into the space. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. Still have some fight in you? You did a number on my man. I should return the favor.”

               The voice made a loud yell and a sudden crash exploded in the space. You brought your hand to your mouth to keep your gasp of surprise from alerting the walking embodiment of death. The man had brought his cane down upon the boxes you thought to hide behind, and smashed them. He kicked the shatter pieces out of his path and moved on, dragging the cane again. The steps were closer, and you figured he had come to one of the other food counters. You prayed he wouldn’t find you because you weren’t sure what would happen if he did. Suddenly, the blond let go of your hand and reached behind him. He pulled out a black, studded gun. You couldn’t begin to wonder what you had actually gotten yourself into. His hand was shaky too much and he pressed it into your hand before placing his over yours; was he intending to have you shoot him? Could you? Or was he using you as a steady when you were shaking just as bad as him? You stared at him with wide eyes, but he shushed you and moved your hands where he needed them.

               “Hiding like a scared child? I thought you were better than that. But we have the same problem as before; you still have a heart. You should have let your boy die, Agust. Then, you could have gotten away to face another day. But now, you’re bleeding out. You’re gonna die. Unless I find you.” The cane hit against one of the counters and scraped across it. The sound made you shiver. The blond held you hand tighter, his finger against yours near the trigger. His eyes were feverish, and he was getting paler than before. The voice continued to move closer. “I’m gonna take my time with you. I’ll make sure you don’t die yet. It’s a matter of time before we find your boy. I want you to watch while I unmask him and break him. And I’ll remind you how it’s all your fault as I make him scream. Only after I break him so no one can ever fix him, then I’ll take my time with you. I’ll make sure to take pictures to send to your friends. I’ll make sure they know who they’re dealing with.”

               The voice was so close now, you were sure he was only a few steps away. The footsteps stopped and you could hear the man taking a deep breath. Then, he was quiet. You were holding your breath, your lungs burning. The menacing man, then, took an audible sniff of the air. He did it again and again, as if he was a bloodhound. What was he smelling? Or was this just another tactic to try and scare them out of hiding. Another few steps and you were sure he was in front of your counter. The blond’s hand started to move, ready to use your hand to help him get a steady shot. The man beyond the counter started to lean over when-

               “Sir!”

               The man stopped and turned his attention away from the counter. “Chen, what did you find? Did you track them down?”

               The man, Chen, came up to him.  “No sir, the two escaped in a vehicle. They lost our men running through different levels and shops. They set up a bunch of snares and traps. I had men ready to chase them but Vante did a number on the cars. They’re long gone.”

               “What about the boy?”

               “We couldn’t catch him.” You felt the blond let out a sigh of relief. “He jumped through a window on the second floor.” That explained the broken glass sound you heard. “By time the men got out there, he had dashed into the alleyways and we lost his trail.” A cell phone rang, and for a moment, you feared it was yours, but Chen answered it. “Sir, we need to go. Police are on the way here. The men can hear the sirens. Someone tipped them off.”

               “Damn it,” the man snapped. He slammed the cane against the counter. “Did anyone find Agust?”

               “No, sir. He must have gotten out. The front door and gate are opened. He must have escaped. Maybe the two in the car swung back around and got him.”

               “No, he’s still here somewhere. I can feel it. He’s too hurt to have gotten away from me. There’s too much blood splattered. He has to be close by.” The man took another deep breath. “Do you smell that?”

               “Sir, I can’t smell anything. But we really need to leave. The police are close. Please, if he’s that hurt, he won’t make it until the police get here. You’ve won the battle, sir.”

               “Unless there’s a body, there is no victory.” You heard as he started to move away from the counter. “Grab that idiot over there. Tell the men to get us out of here.”

               You waited until the steps disappeared and the space was all quiet. In the background, you could hear the sounds of police and ambulance sirens coming closer and closer, and the fear you had started to ebb away. You glanced around the counter to make sure they were truly gone before dropping your hand and taking a deep breath. It was going to be ok. The young man’s hand slipped from yours and dropped to his side. Suddenly, your panic started to return. You dropped the gun and moved in front of him, tapping his cheek to keep him awake and checking his pulse. His eyes were glossy and unfocused, his skin so pale and cold. The blood soaked his clothes and wasn’t slowing. You shrugged off your backpack and stripped your jacket off, ignoring the chill of the space, and pressed the material against the wound to stop the bleeding. The man jerked and hissed but his body was too weak to fight it. The sirens got closer still, but it felt like an eternity for you to hear the rush of police calling out. You yelled out for a medic, alerting the police where you were and who you were. Then, you leaned close to the blond stranger.

               “Hey, you got to stay with me, alright? I’m gonna get you out of here, remember? We’re gonna get you to the hospital and patch you up. But I need you to stay awake. Remember, you promised to tell me what I got myself into.” His eyes couldn’t seem to focus on yours and kept slipping closed. You patted his check again, leaving bloody prints. You reached for his hand instead. You squeezed it as he had done not so long ago, trying to bring his focus on you. “Come on, stay with me. Can you squeeze my hand? Talk to me? Tell me your name. Tell me how dumb I am for running into an active shooting scene. Tell me I���m a hot mess. Anything, just stay with me.”

               His hooded eyes caught yours and he tilted his head to the side. He slipped his hand from yours and laid it against your cheek. “Angel,” he whispered, before his hand dropped and his body went limp.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Captains Orders (reupload)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you go through the process of finding out Peters secret, losing him in the snap, and reuniting with him

authors note: tumblr is giving me all sorts of problems lately and now its not tagging people 🙃sorry if you weren't tagged last time but hopefully this time works

Masterlist

Finding out

“You never know what’s out there. Be ready for anything. That includes an extra pair of underwear in your child’s backpack. Lucky for them, I have my own brand.” Captain America, clad in his old fashioned uniform, held up a pair of underwear on your TV screen. Being as a big of a fan as you were, you tended to leave on his old commercials when they came on.

“I don’t know about the underwear, but I’ll take your advice on being ready for anything.” You smiled as you turned the TV off and climbed out the window that lead to your fire escape.

“Ready?” Venom’s metallic voice filled your ears and you nodded.

“Ready.” You confirmed and jumped off the terrace. You shot a black tendril at a nearby building to anchor yourself as you swung through the streets of New York.

Like you usually did, you encountered Spiderman while you were out on patrol. No matter how many times you explained to him that you only hurt bad guys, he always came after you to try and stop you. In turn, you sent him away with a few broken bones and a couple bruises to keep him at bay. When he approached you on this particular night, you and Venom were in no mood for the usual banter. Venom picked him and and hurled him against a wall before he had a chance to speak.

“Woah woah woah, what did I do? I haven’t even said anything yet.” Spider-mans youthful voice came from behind his mask as he rubbed his head.

“Leave us alone. You have been a thorn in our side since we started patrolling the streets.” Venom growled. “Don’t make us hurt you. We would have no problem crushing a pesky bug.”

“Crushing seems a bit extreme.” Spiderman insisted as he stood up. “Perhaps we could compromise on a simple smush.”

His sarcasm only angered you further, making you charge at him. Spider-Man skillfully slid under you and shot a few webs at your feet, cashing you to fall and roll along the pavement. You angrily ripped his webs off of you, causing Spider-Man to let out a surprised squeak.

“No ones ever broken out of my webs on their own before.” He gulped.

“No one gonna get through chance again.” You threatened as you lunged towards him. As much as you hated to admit it, Spiderman always put up a good fight. For every time you threw him against a building and knocked the wind out of him, he got in a few punches or wiped you off your feet. Growing tired of the nightly routine you had with him, you decided tonight was the last time. You shot a tendril at Spiderman, pulling him towards you at full speed and punching him in the face when he got close enough. This disoriented him enough where you could grab him by the neck and hold him up, grinning wickedly as he struggled to breathe.

You pulled his mask off at the same time he yanked Venom off of you. You immediately looked to Venom, who was laying on the floor, unharmed. You only looked back at Spiderman when you heard him making gawking sounds. Your eyes traveled up his red and blue suit until they landed on the face of your best friend. His jaw was dropped and eyes wide, and your face quickly did the same. You both pointed a finger at each other and froze, now knowing what to do or when. Venom crawled to you and bonded with you but stayed inside as you stared at Peter. Finally, you broke out into a laugh.

“Yo!” You laughed in happy surprise.

“Dude, no way.” Peter looked you up and down, unable to process what he was seeing.

“You’re Spider-Man? The Spider-Man?” You whispered so it wouldn’t catch anyone’s unwanted attention.

“And I take it you’re Venom?” Peter said as he nodded.

“We’re Venom, but yes.” You corrected as Venom rested on your shoulder. “What are the odds?”

“This has never happened before. There are no odds!” Peter exclaimed.

“I can’t believe I’ve been beating the life out of my best friend every night and I had no idea.” You scratched your head in amazement, suddenly feeling guilty about all the bruises and scratches you’d seen on Peter that you now knew you gave him.

“I can’t believe it either.” Peter remarked “Especially since you still ask me to open jars for you.”

“Venom can open jars. I can’t.” You informed him.

“So you’re two different people?” He tilted his head to the side.

“Yes, in one body. Two minds, two personalities.” You listed.

“One love.” Venom spoke up.

“Okay, Venom.” You laughed and patted her head. “What about you? If you have all these crazy abilities, why aren’t you the captain of every sports team by now? You’d crush all those meat heads.”

“If I couldn’t play those sports before I was bitten, I can’t play them after. It’s not fair to everyone else.” Peter told you his philosophy.

“Bitten?” You asked.

“Radioactive spider.” He confirmed. “And you?”

“Symbiote from another planet.” You pointed to the sky.

“Symbiote? So you guys are a host and parasite situation?” Peter couldn’t keep from geeking out a little.

“We don’t like that word. We call it a buddy system. Cause we’re buddies.” You shrugged with a happy smile.

Infinity War

You were at home, eating a big bowl of Cheerio and getting left on delivered by Peter when a rather large space ship pulled up to your window. You dropped your spoon into your bowl in shock and stopped chewing as a bridge extended from the ship onto your fire escape.

“Hey space balls, think you can do something for me?” Tonys voice came from the ship, though you didn’t see anyone inside except a pilot.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded slowly. “What is it?”

“I need you to help me with something. Get on the ship. And bring your little monster friend.” Tony continued. You swallowed your mouthful of Cheerios and blinked a few times to snap back into focus.

“Sir, I can’t get on that ship.” You said apologetically.

“Why not?” Tony asked.

“Stranger danger.” You said weakly.

“Listen Space Jam, there is a much more imminent danger at hand than the stranger steering the jet. Get on it, or die. Simple really.” Tony quipped.

“Okay.” You nodded confidently and got up. “Should I bring a jacket or-“

“Get on the jet!” He interrupted.

“All right! I’m going, I’m going.” You blew out a nervous breath and walked onto your fire escape. The jet was hovering outside your terrace and you contemplated what to do. Mr. Stark needed you, yes. But you were not equipped to fight the battles he was typically caught in. You could let him down in a big way if you went, and a bigger way if you stayed. The TV caught your attention and you saw one of Captain America’s informercials playing. They were usually dumb and pandered mostly to kids, but you admired him and often found yourself tuning in to what he was saying.

“Go out there and be brave.” Captain America saluted on your screen. Your face lit up in a smile and you stood up straighter.

“Captains orders.” You saluted the TV and ran to board the jet.

Wakanda

The space dog stalked up to Cap, pinning him against a tree with nowhere to go. When the dog was about to pounce, Cap put his arms over his face to protect himself. Just when the dog was about to get to him, you dropped down it front of him. You punched the dog out of the way and turned to asses Cap.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked. Before he could answer, another dog came running at you. You shot a black tendril at a tree, yanked it from the ground, and used it as a bat to ward off the remaining dogs. Once the area was clear, you turned to Steve and pushed him higher against the tree for support. You shot a web at his shield and handed it to him as he watched in admirable confusion.

“Yeah, just locked the wind out of me. Where’d you come from?” He asked as he looked you up and down, not recognizing the giant white spider symbol on your suit.

“Mr. Stark sent for us and flew us down here. We haven’t fought too many people before but he thought we could help.” You explained as you pressed a firm palm against the gash on his thigh, covering the wound with your black goo. When you took your hand away, the gash was gone. Steve watched you in awe as you did the same to other cuts of his.

“Right.” He nodded as he began to watch your face instead.

“Have you seen my friend Peter? He’s my age and kinda short, but if you ask him he’ll tell you he’s average height and I’m like yeah, average height of a woman.” You nervously talked as you healed a cut on Steve’s forehead. “He was supposed to text me when he got to MOMA but he never did.”

“I haven’t seen him.” Cap shook his head, watching you heal a scrape on his elbow.

“Shoot. He better not be here. It’s not safe.” You fretted as you looked up and saw the raging battle all around you. “If you’re okay to keep fighting, we’re gonna go find him.” You looked him over to make sure he was okay to leave.

“You can’t go alone. Thanos will be here any minute. You should stick by me if you’re an inexperienced fighter.” Cap insisted, grabbing your arm so you wouldn’t leave.

“Trust me Captain, I’m never alone.” You smiled gratefully at him for showing concern for you.

“Who are you?” Steve asked in wonder, still not having figured it out.

“Well, my name is Y/n, but we,” you said before turning around and catching an alien about to attack, throwing it across the woods, “we are Venom.”

You turned up to leave, only getting a few paces away before you heard his voice.

“Hey.” Steve shouted after you. You turned to look at him and he smirked.

“You mind giving me a ride?” He asked.

“Hop on.” You smiled. You turned into Venom and let Cap climb on to your back.

“Run as fast as you can.” He commanded.

“Captains orders.” You said as you took off towards the battlefield.

In the battle

You and Venom were punching as many space dogs as you could when a large axe landed a few feet away from you. You went to pick it up to swing it at the dogs, but found it impossibly heavy and unable to be moved.

“Why can’t I lift this?” You called out as you tugged on the handle. Thor ran up to you and picked up the axe with ease, using it to send a wave of lighting towards the advancing group of dogs.

“Because you’re not worthy.” Thor said smugly as he cut an alien in half.

“Why am I not worthy?” You asked as you punched a space dog and sent it flying. “Because I eat people?”

“You eat people?” Steve and Thor said in unison, making your face redden in embarrassment.

Endgame

You sat next to Scott as Steve and Tony argued, quietly looking around to admire the cabin he had moved in to. Peters face flashed among the ones lost in the snap, making you grimace and wipe a stray tear.

“We gotta do this, Tony. I lost Bucky.” You heard Steve plead.

“Who the hell is Bonkey?” You whispered to Scott.

“Some girl I think.” Scott whispered back as he munched on a pop tart. He saw the distraught look on your face as you stared at the montage of people dusted and offered you half of it.

“No. Not happening. It’s over. We lost. I gotta shave.” Tony shut down Steve’s idea of looking for Thanos.

“Please Mr. Stark.” You stood up and everyone looked at you. Your legs trembled as you walked towards your mentor. “Please. We’re the only people with the power to fix this. How can we not?”

“Look, Rocky Horror, I’d love to bring everyone back as much as the next guy. But there is no protocol for this. We have no idea what could happen if we snapped again.” Tony reasoned with you.

“But we know exactly what will happen if we don’t.” You countered. You and Tony stared at each other for a moment. He couldn’t deny that every time he looked at you, he saw the empty space by your side that Peter used to take up. He looked at his feet and sighed.

“Give me five days. If you don’t hear from me, the Time Jinx-“ Tony began.

“Time Heist.” Scott corrected.

“Time to go Eff yourself.” Tony snapped. “If you don’t hear from me, it’s off. Sound fair?”

“Thank you.” You nodded and ran to him to hug him. “Thank you so much.”

~

“Thanks for sticking up for me back there.” Steve looked at you in the rear view mirror as you drove home from Tony’s cabin.

“I can’t say it wasn’t for selfish reasons.” You shrugged. “I need people back too. For the first time in my life, I’m all alone.”

“Who are you doing this for?” Steve asked you.

“Peter Parker. My best friend in the whole world.” You smiled sadly. You did your best not to think about the fact that he was gone.

“I’m doing this for my best friend too.” Steve told you with a kind smile.

“Right. Bucket.” You remembered.

“Bucky.” He corrected.

“Bucky.” You repeated.

The snap

“I have to do it.” You interrupted the argument over who would be the one to snap after being quiet since Clint broke the news about Nat. “It has to be me.”

“Not now, the adults are talking.” Tony tried to dismiss you but you didn’t let him.

“I’m serious. I lost Venom in the last snap. That means I’m the only one hear who isn’t enhanced in some way. That makes me expendable.”

“No. It’s going to be me.” Thor shook his head.

“Wrong, Lebowski. It’s going to be me.” Tony told him.

“It can’t be either of you.” You insisted. “If Thor does it and dies, we lose our best fighter. If Mr. Stark does it and dies, we lose Iron Man and the only person here who can make another gauntlet. It has to be me.”

“No.” Tony said firmly. “I’m not about to let a child kill herself for this.”

“Nat just gave her life for this.” You raised your voice at him. “Are we gonna come this far to only come this far? You know I’m right. You know I’m expendable. It has to be me.”

“We don’t trade lives.” Steve said, looking at you with his Steele blue eyes from across the room.

“We don’t have the luxury of morals right now.” You told him. “Trillions of people died. You can afford to lose one more to bring the rest back.”

“No.” Tony snapped. “It’s out of the-“

“Let her do it.” Thor cut him off.

“What?” Tony looked at him with anger.

“She’s right, Stark.” Thor said solemnly. “It’s a horrible fate but it’s true. When Thanos comes, and he will, we’re gonna need every fighter we have. It has to be her.”

Tony stared at him for a long time before his face softened as he realized he was right. Without looking at you, he handed you the gauntlet. You gingerly took it, your heart racing as everyone took precautions, stepping away from you and putting shields up. You looked to Steve for comfort and he gave you a somber salute.

“You better come back from this.” He told you with a pleading look in his eyes. You smiled softly at him and saluted.

“Captains orders.”

Thanos comes to earth

Right as you got out from under the rubble of the Avengers tower you saw Thanos beating up Steve. His shield was in pieces so you grabbed the nearest item to you and ran to his aid. You stepped between him and Thanos and planted your feet.

“Don’t touch him!” You cried as you swung a baseball bat in front of you.

“Is that a baseball bat? Did you seriously show up to this fight with a baseball bat?” Steve asked from the ground.

“Hello, trying to save your life here.” You shot back at him.

“Sorry. Carry on.” Steve said.

“Give it up.” Thanos sneered. “There’s no use fighting anymore. I’ve done what I had to do and I’ll do it again.”

“No. I will never stop fighting.” You heaved. “You took everything from me. Until there is no air left in my chest, I will never stop fighting.”

One swift kick the head and you were knocked to the ground. You saw stars for a moment rad your head spun. A tall man with long brown hair came into your sight and stood over you.

“Hey, get up.” He held out his hand for you to grab.

“Jesus?!” You gasped, thinking you were dead.

“No.” He sighed as if he got that a lot. “My name is Bucky. You gotta get up.”

“Bonky!” You cheered, grabbing his cold, metal hand and standing up. You immediately heard an explosion to your left and an array of screaming from your right. You and Bucky looked at each other and nodded before running opposite ways towards the sounds.

You ran towards the yelling and looked around for anyone you could help, even though you were still without Venom and pretty much defenseless. Ebony Maw saw you looking vulnerable and floated over to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in the middle of a battlefield? Don’t you know there’s a war going on?” He said as he approached you.

“Really?” You stopped to ask. “I thought this was a Febreeze commercial.”

“Just for that, I’ve decided to terminate you.” He began to make rocks around you float and threw them at you. You were hit in the arm and began to ran until you were knocked over by a boulder.

“No, wait.” You help up your left arm to protect your face as Ebony piles rocks on you, all with just the flick of his finger. Your right arm was still out of commission after snapping, so you didn’t have much of a defense system. He dropped more rocks onto you until you were gasping for breath and could barely speak.

You could see Cap in the distance, just out of earshot. You opened your mouth to speak, to call out to him, but no words came out. It was like every nightmare you’d had as a kid when you lost your voice and couldn’t cry out for help. Hot tears fell out of the corner of yours eyes in frustration as you tried to scream, yell, talk, anything. Instead of words, blood spilled over your lips, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Help! I need help! Cap!” You tried to scream but it came out as a hushed whisper.

“He’s not coming.” Ebony said as he began to pile rocks closer to your face.

“Cap! Mr. Stark! Please! Can anybody hear me?” You wheezed.

“I’m afraid no one can hear you, my child.” Ebony Maw said as he dropped a rock onto your head, silencing you. “Not anymore.”

He turned around and began to float away when he heard the sound of rocks tumbling and moving. He turned back to where he left you and no longer saw you under the pile. As soon as he turned back around, he was met with Venom towering over him.

“We heard.” Venom snarled before biting Ebonys head clean off.

“Nice work.” Steve’s voice came from behind you and startled you. You turned back into yourself and faced him. “I was just on my way to help you, but it looks like you got it handled.”

“Thanks. I had help, though.” You said and Venom slid into your hand, as if to hold it.

“You find your friend yet?” He asked you.

“Not yet. I met Bucket, by the way.” You said as you brushed some debris off your suit.

“He told me.” Steve smiled. “Go find your guy. I’ll cover you.”

“Captains orders.” You saluted him and turned into Venom before running off.

The reunion

“I got this! I got this! I don’t got this!” Peter realized in fear as space dogs piled onto his faster than he could fight them off. He instinctively threw his hands over his face and curled himself into a ball. Thanks to his high tech iron spider suit, he barely felt the blows from the bad guys. It wasn’t until he felt himself being thrown onto his back that he began to worry. An alien with sword for a hand tilted Peters chin up with the edge of his blade. Peter felt fear rise in his throat, not knowing how to use his suit yet and not being able to put his mask up to protect his neck.

“Help! Someone help!” He shouted, but it fell on deaf ears. No one heard.

“Someone, please! Can anybody hear me?” Peter cried. Like a hand coming down into Peters open grave to pull him out, he heard a voice.

“We got you.”

The alien on top of Peter was knocked off in a blur of black. Peter scrambled to sit up and looked in the direction of his savior. He tried to catch his breath as he watched Venom ripping the alien to shreds like it was made of paper.

“Venom?” Peter panted, making you snap up to look at Peter. You slowly got off the alien, still in Venom form, and began to run towards Peter. You melted back into yourself as you ran, tears streaming down your face as your legs carried you. Imagine My Tears are Becoming the Sea as you run towards each other. You meet Peter in the middle and throw your good arm around him, tangling your fingers in hair at the back of his head as pressing him as close to you as possible. You dry heaved a few minutes as the scent of your best friends shampoo filled your nostrils for the first time in five years. Hot tears of joy poured from your eyes when you felt him rubbing your back for comfort. You pressed a kiss to his temple, before saying screw it and kissing every inch of his face and neck that you could reach as he laughed. You pulled back and kept your left hand on his face as your right arm hung limply at your side. Your thumb stoked his cheek as you took in your best friends face.

“Is this a trick?” You whispered, searching his face for comfort.

“It’s not a trick.” Peter shook his head with a childish smile, loving all the affection he was getting from you.

“What if it is? What if I wake up and this is just a dream?” Your voice broke. “I can’t take it if it’s fake.”

“It’s not a dream. It’s real. I’m real.” Peter assured you as he took your hand and pressed your fingers against his neck. “You can feel my pulse, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can feel it.” You nodded as you felt the rhythm of his heartbeat under your fingertips.

“Then I’m real.” Peter said gently, making your lip tremble and rendering you unable to speak.

“What happened to your arm?” Peter asked when he caught sight of your right arm, still red and sizzling from the snap.

“Oh, um…dragons.” You said the first lie that came to your head. “It was a fire breathing dragon.”

“Wow, really?” Peter looked at you in amazement. “Did it hurt?”

You broke into a smile at seeing your best friend excited again after so many years of not seeing him at all. His eyes lit up just like you remembered.

“No. It didn’t hurt.” You lied through a genuine smile. “I’m all right.”

“I missed you, Y/n.” Peter said suddenly. “It’s only been a few hours for me, but I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You said through your tears.

“I had a few hours to think when I was in the soul stone and ran out of questions to ask Dr. Strange.” Peter began, looking nervous for the first time. “I think we’ve been wasting a lot of time.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“I love you.” Peter said firmly. “I have for years. For whatever love is at my age, that’s how I feel. I know I’m 18 and you’re 22, but Knives Chau was 17 and Scott Pilgrim was 23 when they dated so I just-“

You cut Peter off by pulling him into a kiss using your one good hand, feeling a sob rise in the back of your throat when he kissed you back. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, only feeling him in the middle of a battlefield.

“I love you too.”

Funeral

You stood apart from the crowd after Pepper sent Tony’s memorial into the water, watching from a distance while fumbling with the bottom of your dress. You watched Peter talk with the other Avengers, a newfound sadness in his eyes as he once again put the “e” in “dad”. You sighed as you watched him, feeling a guilt you didn’t know to explain. You told Mr. Stark the snap would kill him, and he did it anyway. Feeling uncomfortably hot all the sudden, you attempted to pull your hair into a ponytail. Ever since your arm had to be amputated from snapping, little tasks like doing your hair seemed impossible. Hot tears of frustration filled your eyes as you struggled to get all your hair into the ponytail. Right as you were about to give up, you felt someone’s hands take the hair tie from you and gather your hair into a ponytail. They secured the hair tie around your hair and stood beside you, all without saying a word.

“Thank you.” You said quietly as you touched the ponytail, surprised to find it was well done.

“It’s all right.” Bucky nodded as he stared off at the lake. “I owe you one.”

“Who told you?” You asked him, feeling a sharp pain where your elbow used to be.

“Someone had to snap their fingers and you’re the only missing an arm. I took a wild guess.” Bucky smiled half heartedly. You folded your lips into a line as the pain worsened in your phantom limb.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” You asked in a hushed voice. You hadn’t told anyone that you were the one who snapped. It seemed almost insulting to speak of it since the very same action had killed Tony. It made you sick to your stomach to know both of you had snapped but you were the one to survive and attend his funeral.

“I take it seriously when people risk their lives for mine. I’ll keep your secret.” Bucky assured you. You stared at him for a moment as tears filled your eyes until you brushed your sleeve up to look at the remainder of you arm. It had to be taken off right below the shoulder, so all you were left with was an immobile nub. You looked back at Bucky and saw him silently staring at your residual limb with a look of understanding.

“Does it always hurt this bad?” You whispered, never having vocalized your pain from losing your arm before. Bucky sighed sympathetically and slowly looked up at you.

“The pain gets easier with time.” He told you. “Mine still hurts when it rains or snows.”

You nodded at his words and looked at your residual limb again, pain evident on your face. Bucky could see you struggling with your new body and remembered how hard it was for him when he first lost his own arm.

“You think it’s ugly.” He spoke, making you look at him. “I thought my stump was ugly too. It’s not, though. Steve told me what happened before Thanos came back. You snapped thinking you were going die. You risked your life for us, and you haven’t even met most of us.”

“Someone had to do it.” You mumbled, not wanting to take the credit.

“But you made sure that someone was you. I think that’s beautiful.” Bucky shrugged, and a small smile appeared on your face. “So don’t look at it like its ugly. It’s not ugly.”

“Thanks, Buggy.” You said softly, looking at your stump in a new light.

“Bucky.” he corrected.

“Thanks Bucky.” You repeated.

“Well, Steve sent me over here to get you, so I can’t leave empty handed. He wants you to meet the rest of the Avengers.”

You looked at the group Peter was in and let out a nervous breath before looking back at Bucky.

“Okay.” You agreed. “Captains Orders.”

Tag List 🏷

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