#How to Tell Who’s Inside the Sedan Chair

[thatsbelievable]

[hecatemoon87]

This story will eventually have smut. Minors DNI.

Chapter 6

Johnny idly smoked a cigarette on his front porch as he looked out on his lawn. He owned a ranch style home on the outskirts of Chicago. It was his own little island of peace, and at the moment, he was decompressing from a long haul job he had just returned from.

It was the onset of autumn, so the green of his yard was turning into the color of wheat. He was tired, but his mind drifted towards how his biker gang was doing.

As if on que, Benny and some other members of his biker club pulled up to the house.

Benny jumped off his bike and made his way towards the porch. The others walked over to a few lawn chairs nearby. They had a six-pack and cracked some beers open. One guy tossed a beer to Benny, who in turned offered it to Johhny.

Johnny took the beer and pulled the tab off. He took a long drink and sighed.

"That was a pretty long haul this time," Benny said.

"Yeah, but I pulled in a couple grand, so not too bad," Johnny said.

"Not bad at all," Benny said.

"How's your girl," Johhny asked, flicking his cigarette.

"She's fine. She's visiting her mom for a few days," Benny said, taking another drink of beer. "What about yours? You still trying to date that Italian girl? She seems a bit stiff if you ask me."

"Well, ain't nobody asking you, are they?" Johnny said, bristling.

Benny held up a hand and shook his head, "Sorry, Johnny. You know, I don't mean any disrespect."

"I know, I'm just tired," Johnny said, finishing off his beer. As he crushed it under his boot, he watched as Amelia's little sedan pulled up in front of his house.

"Hey, is that her?" Benny said, squinting into the setting sun.

"Yeah," Johnny said, surprised. He had left her a message, telling her he had returned home. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight.

She got out of her car and stepped up onto the porch. "Hey, John. I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd have any visitors," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. She was wearing a long, gray pea coat.

Johnny came over, pulled her into a hug, and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you came. The boys were just leaving," Johnny said, giving Benny a nod to get the hell out of there.

"I thought you said you were tired?" Benny said, chuckling as he stepped off the porch and waved his hand to the others, signaling them to go.

Johnny ignored Benny and guided Amelia inside. "Do you want a drink?" He asked.

She shook her head as she walked inside. Once the door was closed, she removed her coat, revealing a tasteful green dress, but it was certainly meant to be alluring as well.

Johnny almost groaned aloud. She looked so good, and he wanted badly to walk over and kiss her. Instead, he took her coat and placed it on a hanger in a closet.

"How did the job go? I bet you're really tired," she said.

"It was long but worth it in the end. I'm good, glad you came," he said, a little confused on why she was there.

She nodded and turned to sit on his couch. He followed suit and sat next to her. As he sat down, a muscle in his neck strained causing him to hiss. He brought his hand up to rub it.

"Do you need a massage?" She asked, turning a little toward him.

"Nah, I'm fine," he said, but she surprised him again by moving behind him, making him move forward for her to access his neck. Her dainty hands applied pressure slowly, rubbing his aching muscles in a relieving way.

He grunted and closed his eyes, enjoying both her presence and touch. He then felt her lips connect with his neck, her soft kisses giving him a start. He began to feel the blood rush to his manhood.

"Amelia," he started to say, but her hands reached around, gently gripping his pecks, her little kitten kisses turning into nips upon his neck. Then she whispered, "Is this...is it okay?"

Her voice was small but eager. He managed to say, "Yeah, Princess, more than okay. Do you want to stay here or go to the bedroom?"

She hesitated for a moment but said, "Bedroom."

He stood up and turned to take her by the hand. Her cheeks were slightly pink, and she kept her eyes down, but she took his hand.

They made their way to his bedroom, and he watched as she sat on the end of the bed. He sat next to her, placing his hand on her waist and kissed her.

She brought up her hand to his face, kissing him back, their tongues entangled, Amelia emitting soft moans. She then pulled him back onto the bed, but Johnny laid beside her instead of settling in between her legs.

Her hand drifted from his cheek to his chest, their kissing slow but passionate. Johnny kept his hand on her waist, not wanting to startle her in any way. But, god, he wanted to slip himself inside her little flower.

Amelia gave him one more kiss, then stood up. Johnny watched her silently as she removed her dress, letting it pool around her feet after it fell. She wore lavender colored bra and panties. He already knew she had a voluptuous figure, but now he was able to see her bare curves and a pang of desire filled Johnny's loins.

He noticed her hands covered a spot on her left side. She once again cast her eyes down, almost in shame.

"Hey, what's the matter, Princess?" Johnny said, getting up from the bed and hooking a finger under her chin. He looked into her eyes, which were wet with tears.

"Um, well, it's...it's because of this..." She said, moving her hands away from her side. Johnny could see a light red, though pronounced scar. It was about five inches in length and about 1/8 inch wide.

"That?" Johnny said, pulling her in and gently tracing the scar with his fingertips as he looked her deep in her eyes. "That's nothing, you're gorgeous, baby girl." And he kissed her, but she moved her head away. She stayed in his arms, though.

"It's not that...well, a little. Look, what I'd like to explain is that I've been standoffish because of how it happened. A man, my mother wanted me to date, he demanded sex on our third date, but I said no. He...he got mad and broke a bottle and, um, struck me here," she said.

Johnny's face darkened with anger. He was really fed up with her bitch of a mother. And now he planned to find this man and make him pay.

"Princess, I would never hurt you. Do you understand? If you want to stop right here, let's just talk, hmmm?" He said.

"No, I want you. I'm sure of that. I'm just... okay, I'm nervous because I'm a virgin. That incident happened when I was twenty-five. It scared me away from men, so I focused on my career," she said, blushing again.

Johnny kept his expression calm and understanding, but inside, he almost combusted. He hated to admit it, but her being a sweet young woman, plus being a virgin, made him almost orgasm right there. He swallowed hard and told himself to get a grip.

"Yeah? So, uh...you want me to be your first?" He said, his heart now pounding in his chest, his cock stiffening, but he was trying to keep his erection down so not to intimidate her.

"Yes," she said, sounding confident in her choice. But then said, "just...be gentle? Please?"

"Don't you worry about that. Like I said, I'd never hurt you," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. She nodded and made her way to the bed, making herself comfortable in the middle. Johnny admired her from the end of the bed.

He proceeded to remove his shirt, revealing his impressive physique. He could tell she liked what she saw, nibbling on her bottom lip, eyes heavy with lust.

He slowly unbuckled his belt, removing his pants but leaving his underwear on. His bulge was visible now. He could no longer stave off his erection.

Carefully, he joined her in bed, resting at her side. They kissed, and Johnny traced his hand over her curves.

"Wanna lay on your back? I'm gonna get you nice and wet, alright?" Johnny said, in between kisses.

"Huh?" She said naively, but moved to rest on her back.

Johnny frowned a little but chuckled and said, "You know how sex works, right?"

She playfully slapped his shoulder. "Yes, I'm aware of how it works...I just might not know all the, um, particulars."

"Particulars?" Johnny said, laughing a little. He was enjoying her naivety. It was cute. He looked forward to watching her come undone for him.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Hmm, I do," he said, snaking his fingers over her panty-covered mound, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her. She gripped the bed sheet tight, looking at him with a furrowed brow. "That was...that was, um, nice," she said.

"Yeah, that was. Let's try this," he said, gently pushing her panties down and tracing the outline of her slit. Amelia moaned, closing her eyes and opening her legs a little wider. Johnny took that to mean she wanted more, his index finger moving between her folds, applying pressure to her clit, then moving in a circular motion over her nub.

"Johnny," she whispered moaned.

"I thought it was John?" He said, grinning. She blinked and giggled a little. "I think I like Johhny better now," she said. He smiled, then glided a thick finger into her opening.

She whimpered, looking into his eyes like a precious little mess. He softly opened her cunny up, thrusting in and out with care. Then gliding his finger up with the use of her honey, spreading it over her sensitive clit.

Amelia arched her back, breathing in shallow breaths. She was close and she didn't even know it. Johnny kissed her neck and slid his finger up her pussy again, then gave her clit full attention.

She was gushing over his fingers. Johnny moved her bra strap off her shoulder with his teeth. Then, she pushed down her again using his teeth, revealing a bare nipple and giving it a wet, tongue suckle.

This broke her, and she moaned, "Oh, Johnny, yes...."

She wasn't a loud moaner. It was all soft and sensual and deep, having Johnny carve her more.

She rotated her hips a little, allowing Johnny's fingers to provide her friction. When she came down, she turned her head and looked at Johnny. "Am I wet enough?"

Johnny felt his cock throb, on the border of uncomfortable. He needed her, but his mind forced his body back under control.

"You are," he said, kissing her nose. "Can I?" He said, moving to get between her legs. She answered by pulling him over on top of her.

He pulled his underwear off, releasing his erection. Amelia looked down at him, a look of anxiety on her face. "Will it hurt?"

"I'm not going to lie, it will a little. But you'll adjust around me," he said, stroking her outer thighs comfortingly.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said, and he aligned himself with her moist hole. Johnny closed his eyes, his eyes practically rolling back as the sensation of her pussy swallowing him.

Amelia inhaled sharply as his girth divided her walls. "Relax, take a breath, Princess, I promise it will feel better in a few minutes. I'll go nice and slow," he said, opening his eyes and assuring her.

Her hands rested on his firm shoulders, and she nodded. "Okay, I trust you," she said, her eyes shining up at him, as if he were her whole world now.

Johnny proceeded in filling her up, then as he promised, he rocked his hips nice and slow, carefully stretching her core around him. She took a deep breath and felt the tension release from her body.

He made love to his virgin Princess tenderly until he came. He made sure to extract himself as he spilled his seed and laid back on the mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"Are you good?" Johnny said, looking over at her. She turned to rest on her side and nodded, "I'm good, John."

"Back to John, hmm? Johnny is only for when you feel naughty?" He said, smiling.

She blushed but nodded. They made love again, this time, she was more interactive because, at one point, she gripped his ass and asked him to go harder. That turned Johnny on badly, and it took every ounce of willpower not to drill her into the mattress.

They fell asleep together, Johhny first as he was already exhausted. As he snored softly, Amelia rested her head on his chest in bliss.

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 34

Sun Wukong trapped in the gourd:

This chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest we continue to follow Sun Wukong on his mission to collect all five sacred treasures. Oh, and rescue Tripitaka and the others to I guess. So let's get into it shall we?

We start where we left off last time, with the two minion demon's eager to test out their new gourd. They try bottling up heaven for practice only to find that it doesn't work and the vase is a fake. Once they start suspecting it's a fake, Monkey transforms it back into one of his hairs and takes it back, leaving the two demon's empty handed.

The Demon's are freaking out thinking that they are going to be beaten to death for failing their mission of capturing Sun Wukong and losing the sacred treasures, but they bravely head back to tell their bosses anyways with Monkey transforming into a fly to tail them. We also learn the answer to a question I wouldn't have thought to ask, what happened to the vase and gourd when he transformed into such a small size? Well apparently the two items share something in common with his staff and can shrink or grow as the plot commands. I can only assume his clothes work the same way.

Anyways the minion demon's report to their bosses about the mistake they made and tell them what happened. The two bosses of course immediately pinpoint Sun Wukong for being at fault, and let the two minion demons go without beating them to death. Which kind of makes them nicer then Wukong since he's constantly threatening to beat people to death, especially his allies. Anyways the demon's still have three of the main treasures left, including a fan and a sword, but they decide the last one is best suited towards capturing Sun Wukong, a yellow gold rope which is currently in the care of their mother.

So the demon's decide to send two new minions out to invite their mother over for a monk meat dinner, and also to tell her to bring her rope so they can capture Sun Wukong. So the two demon's leave and Monkey follows them out. He decides not to kill them right away since he doesn't know where the mother lives, and he really wants that rope. So instead he transforms into a minion demon and catches up with them, telling them that he's a member of their clan and he was sent to make sure they hurry along.

So the minion demons start hauling ass with Monkey going with them. After they travel a little while longer, Monkey asks them how much further they have to go and where they are going, once Monkey figures out where the mother lives, he kills the two minion demons and drags their bodies to the side of the road. With that done Monkey transforms one of his hairs into one of the demons while he takes the form of the other.

So Monkey arrives at the mothers house and is invited inside only to unexpectedly start crying once he see's her. And no it's not because he's afraid of her, don't be ridiculous! It's because he has to knowtow to her. See, Sun Wukong is someone who has only every knowtowed to three people in his entire life- the Bhudda, Guanyin and Tripitaka. He doesn't even bother to bow to the Jade Emperor whenever he goes up to pester heaven, so having to bow to some random demon or risk being discovered is a real hit to his ego.

Eventually Monkey sucks it up and gives her a bow and explains to her that he's here because her sons are inviting her to a dinner party. So the mother calls for her sedan chair and two attendants to carry her and has Monkey clear the way ahead of her. Monkey of course isn't to pleased to be treated like a servant by this random demon, so of course he takes the first opportunity to murder them all by calling for a lunch break and killing them while they are distracted.

Also it turns out that the mother was actually a nine tailed fox, which I've always thought of as being a top tier monster, but I guess any monster is nothing much to Sun Wukong because he just shoves her dead body to the side and takes her rope and sedan chair. After that with a little more hair clone action the procession gets a move on again. Monkey now has three out of the five treasures so he's feeling pretty confident to go up against the two demon bosses again. Hopefully without getting another mountain dropped on him this time.

Monkey is also in an excellent mood for another reason, now that he's disguised as the matriarch it's his turn to receive some bows. So Monkey arrives back at the demon layer and receives his bows from the two demons only for Pigsy to burst out laughing. Turns out he was able to recognize Sun Wukong by his monkey tail, surely he will use this knowledge wisely and not do anything that could compromise the rescue mission right? Of course not. So when the demons offer their 'mother' some fresh Tripitaka flesh, Monkey says he'd rather have Pigsy's ears. This of course causes Pigsy to freak out and blow Monkey's cover. To make matters worse, some minion demons choose that moment to return to tell the Demon sons that they found their mother dead on the side of the road.

Upon hearing this the Golden Demon uses the sword sacred treasure to take a swipe at Monkey's face, only for Monkey to vanish in a flash of light. The oldest brother is clearly the smarter of the to since he knows when to cut his losses. He suggests that they just give Sun Wukong his companions and luggage back. The dumber younger brother however is against this plan and asks to be allowed to fight Sun Wukong for three rounds in order to at least try and defeat him first. If he wins great, if not, then they'll still have time to just return his friends to get him off their backs.

So the Demon gets dressed in his fancy armor and demands that Sun Wukong return their treasures and mother in exchange they'll give him back Tripitaka. Sun Wukong offers a new deal where they give him back all his stuff and companions as well as some money in exchange for him not beating the hell out of them. Unable to reach a compromise the two of them begin to fight. So they fight for a while before Monkey gets the bright idea of using one of the treasures to capture him. He decides to use the golden rope that he has no idea how to use. Unfortunately the demon does know how to use the rope, so when Monkey throws it at him, the demon uno reverses the move and ties up Monkey instead.

Now that he has him captured the demon tries to finish him off with several blows to the head, only to fail to leave so much as a dent. Since that won't work he uses his fancy gold leash to drag Monkey back to the cave and tie him to a pillar. Unfortunately for Monkey he gets tied up where Pigsy can see him and heckles him. So much for eating his ears now, how is he supposed to save them if he can't even save himself? Luckily for Monkey however, while the demon took all of their treasures back, they failed to take Monkey's treasure- his staff. So he turns it into a file and simply files the rope off him, and with a little duplicate and replace action he leaves a clone in his place.

Pigsy of course can't do anything right and immediately tries to blow his cover again yelling that Sun Wukong is escaping. Luckily the demons have just learned to ignore Pigsy at this point. Anyways Sun Wukong has the rope back but he still wants the other treasures so he decides to run a little experiment. He leaves the cave only to knock on the front door and introduce himself as 'Grimpil Sun', brother of Sun Wukong, assuming that answering to a fake name won't get him sucked into the gourd. Unfortunately the gourd doesn't actually care if the name is real or not, so when the demon calls 'Grimpil Sun' and Monkey answers he is sucked into the gourd.

So Monkey is trapped in the vase but he isn't particularly concerned about being dissolved, after all heaven tried this trick on him before and it didn't work. Still in order to make the demon open the gourd again so he can escape he at least needs to make the demons think he is being dissolved. So Sun Wukong starts crying out that 'he's melting, melting! Oh what a world what a world!' The Demon's figure he should be about done melting at this point so they decide to crack the lid open to check on his progress. Wukong takes this opportunity to make a half melted clone, while he himself transforms into a little flies out. He then transforms himself into one of the minion demons and when the boss demon passes him the gourd to hold onto for a second, Wukong takes the opportunity to slip it into his sleeves and make a duplicate to give back to them.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 + 94,000 years. Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind, enhanced smell, discerning good and evil within a thousand miles, Spirit Summoning, lock picking, object transformation, distance reduction and vanishing in a flash of light. Demon Kill Count: 10+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 1006 God's Defeated: 20 + Unknown number Defeats: 4 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering, trespassing, violating Tree Law, looting corpses and trading counterfeit goods. Cry Count: 6 + 2 fake cries Mountains Trapped Under: 4

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization and Heart Sutra. Cry Count: 16 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 27 Paralyzed by fear: 5 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 4 Falling Off Horses: 6

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, flight, Magic of Water Restriction, Singing, and Sword Dancing. Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 2

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations, parting water, fighting underwater, cloud soaring and size enhancement Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 1 Kidnapped by Demons: 1 Human Kill Count: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 3 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping and arson.

Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), Sandy and Sha Monk Weapon: Monster Taming Staff Abilities: Fighting underwater and Cloud soaring. Kidnapped by Demons: 2 Human Kill Count: 1 Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, and desecration of a human corpse.

[stardustedknuckles]

Housesitting for my lesbian bookstore owner friend and her girlfriend and it's the first time I've seen their house and I'm fully just about to cry standing in the kitchen because it's autumn and I can feel things and what I feel is a life together, their dog asleep on the couch, the plants, the wind that never stops here. This is a nothing town, this house one of many sprawled and leaning away from a high school my own mother went to once for six months, but that just makes it more real. They said I could harvest from their garden, please eat all of the tomatoes I felt like, we have three ways to make coffee and this is our newest favorite. There's photos of them on strings along the living room walls, which are ocean blue, and every knickknack on every shelf feels like a little moment, a little monument.

I never thought I wanted a house and a person to share it with, but I've never been inside a home shared by lesbians and realized what's possible for me one day, that the idea of a home with someone else could ever appeal to me so strongly. It's just a house full of other people's memories, but every single thing in it is set up just for them and their comfort and it resonates in a way I can't explain. I grew up with a house always set to look perfect in case other people stumbled down our long, hidden gravel driveway, and none of the twelve other apartments and couches I've called home could be seen objectively as anything more than another chaotic stop along a very haphazard way. I thought I wanted to travel forever, live out of an RV or be able to pack my life into a 4-door sedan and run when I needed to - towards or away. There's never been anything about a place to come back to that has appealed to me. Just places (and inevitably people) for leaving.

But the plants are spilling over the mantel and along the walls and windows and they're here just to be here - thriving, but with the little dry edges here and there that tell you they're real and they're not expected to be anything else. In a box on the shelf next to me are a series of thick, slightly faded cards, the first of which reads "guide for your birthday" in the handwriting of the one who runs the bookstore. a tangle of battery-operated fairy lights. A wii, the newest electronic but for the TV.

Maybe I'm just getting old. Maybe this is what every queer person feels when they figure themselves out, just part of the journey of finding what you want before you chase it. Maybe this is a stop on my journey to recovering from whatever inflammation has dogged my steps for fifteen years now and I can finally be still long enough to learn how to want.

But at the end of the day, it's this simple: there's a front porch that faces the sunrise and under the hanging flower baskets a rocking chair - worn, ready to use - meant for two. And sitting on the couch looking out the window at this porch and the sleepy old houses beyond, I've never felt lonelier or more comforted. Home really does exist, even if it's not this one, today, for me. And that's enough, to know what's possible.

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Batman & Catwoman (4/5)

Word count ; 4.2k

*Edited:3

“Holy shit,” I gasped as we pulled up to his penthouse. It towered amongst Gotham’s skyscrapers. Never did I think I would be of such a status to enter a building as tall as this. My heart was thumping in my chest and I couldn’t help but feel unworthy of such a sight up close. I was in the passenger of Bruce’s rather humble sedan and he was driving. Not much conversation had been exchanged since I opted out to get a quick nap.

“I’m aware that it’s a bit excessive,” Bruce chuckled, "but it’s the only home I’ve ever known.”

“You’re one lucky duck, Bruce Wayne,” I hummed. “No offense, of course. I know even billionaires have their problems.”

Bruce shook his head, driving into an underground parking lot. “None taken… What was your childhood like?”

I watched in awe as we pulled into a private underground parking lot, each spot except one taken up. He pulled into it and stopped the car. I waited until we were both out. Then Bruce had taken my hand to lead me inside the manor. He was still suited up, and so was I, although I was sustaining a massive wedgie. Leather was badass looking, but it had its flaws.

“Well… I grew up in the system before they gave up on finding me a family when I was a teenager. I met Selina at the orphanage and we’ve been best friends ever since. But, since we could never afford much to improve our resume, like college, we’ve been stuck with shitty jobs most of our lives. That’s about it, really.”

“What about your parents?” he prodded.

“How would I know? They abandoned me at birth. I know nothing about them,” I chuckled dryly. 

Bruce nodded. 

He led me up a set of stone steps, his grasp on my hand tight the whole time. The door at the top was password protected, but he quickly padded it in. The metal door opened, and the entire aesthetic of the building changed. Despite the exterior, the decor was old-fashioned and mostly wooden. 

He led me down a hallway. The halls were lit by bulb-shaped lamps, and the house was mostly deserted. I felt my phone, which was buried in my pouch, continuously vibrating. I assumed Selina was desperate for me to return home. 

However, I was entranced by the home. Despite how large it was - I presumed there was at least five or six stories - it felt homely. It was desolate, but comfortable and safe. 

He finally lead me into a quaint living room. There were two arm chairs opposing another and a long love seat between them. There was a dying fire in the fire place and the walls were littered with either bookshelves or very expensive Victorian portraits. 

I pulled off my mask while Bruce nudged me into the room. “I’m going to get changed now. Wait here for me… Is your suit uncomfortable, though? I can ask Alfred to find something for you.”

“You have women’s clothes lying around?” I asked suspiciously. 

“No, just my mother’s old things,” he quickly answered.

I clammed up and nodded. “Right. That makes sense.”

I went and plopped down on the love seat, my exhaustion taking the wheel once more. My body slumped, despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. My eyes fluttered shut as I watched Bruce walk out of the room.

Damn. I really thought a man like him would at least be a playboy. It was hard to imagine that he was without some fatal flaw. I barely knew him, but the facade he put up was one of perfection. He was rich, humble, handsome, and a superhero. Was he a secret alcoholic? Or did his violent habits extend out of his superhero job? Was he lazy or lackluster?

It was so impossible to tell what was wrong with him. Everyone had their flaws. Selina was too untrusting and only believed in herself. I was the opposite of her, welcoming and friendly and definitely a himbo. Both of us were withdrawn from general society, too. But what was Bruce’s problem?

“Hello, Miss Y/n.” I shot up, only to be met with an old man who I presumed to be Alfred. I sent him a smile. In his grasp, he had some neatly folded clothes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I pulled this out of Bruce’s wardrobe. Any of the former Miss Wayne’s wardrobe is in storage and too dusty for further wear.”

“That’s perfect, actually. Can you direct me to the bathroom?”

I rose to my feet, meeting him in the doorway. He smiled kindly and I took the clothes. He motioned down the hall. “That way. The room to the right. If you desire a shower —"

“I’ll be alright for now, actually. It’s so great to meet you, Alfred.”

“You as well, Miss Y/n. Enjoy your stay.” He nodded humbly and went the other direction.

I was quick to enter the bathroom. It was oddly small for a mansion. I washed my face and splashed some on the sweatier parts of my body. I even sprayed some perfume that I had in my bag just in case. It’s not like I had anticipated this or anything. 

Bruce’s clothes were large and loose over my much smaller frame. It was rather flattering, actually. And when I sniffed it, it smelled like him. I couldn’t name his smell, other than that it was his. I folded my suit and returned to the living room. He still wasn’t back, but I assumed his room was on a higher floor or something.

I laid back on the couch again. I clutched some of the excess t-shirt like a teddy bear. Even in my weariness, I enjoyed Bruce’s scent. It felt intimate to be wearing him clothes, even. And to know such secrets about his life - it felt like things were going in the right direction.

My eyes fluttered shut once more and I welcomed myself to the entire love seat, stretching out and lying down on my side. I didn’t plan to sleep yet. Actually, I was hoping for the night to go in a completely different direction, even though I had work in the morning.

If you’re picking up what I’m putting down.

“Sorry to keep you waiting - Oh. Were you sleeping?”

Bruce had entered the living room with casual clothes. The same fit as me. A t-shirt and sweat pants. I shook my head and smiling sweetly, sitting up. In his grasp were two glasses and an expensive bottle of champagne. 

“I wasn’t. Just resting my eyes. Catching criminal scum tires you out, you know?”

Bruce laughed and sat beside me. He popped open the bottle and poured into the glasses. My heart was already thudding. Just from being in close proximity, my heart started up when I was with him. Our glasses clinked together in a polite silent toast.

I leaned against his shoulder, sniffing his neck. “Are you wearing cologne?”

“…Perhaps.”

A laugh bubbled in my throat and I silenced it by taking a sip of the fruity liquid. “…Hey, Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Something about you is bothering me. You’re just too perfect. What’s the catch?” I inquired quietly.

Bruce tensed. “I… I hold on to the past. I’m too serious and obsessive. Ever since my parents died, I’ve wanted nothing more than to fight crime. And you can say that it’s because I have a strong sense of justice, but in reality… I know it’s to fill the void in hopes that one day I’ll discover who killed my parents.”

I intertwined my arm with him, nuzzling into his neck further. “…I understand. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“I want things to work out with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, Bruce."

He downed the rest of his wine, setting the empty glass on the table in front of him. I sat up, mimicking his behavior. The moment the glass hit the table, my attention was tore away as Bruce grabbed my jaw and pulled my into a passionate kiss. I threw my arms around his neck, moaning quietly.

I felt him trying to push me against the couch, but I rivaled it, pushing him against the couch and straddling his lap. One hand was gripping my thigh and the other wandered underneath the ill-fitting t-shirt, ghosting over my bare waist. I separated from the kiss, blinking and making eye contact with him. His lips chased mine, but I ducked away, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses across his jaw.

He pulled me even closer, a new feeling blossoming in my stomach from his body warmth. Bruce threw his head back, his grip on my body tightening. While I began to kiss and suck on his neck, my hands wandered down to his shirt. I pushed my hands under, palming at him prominent six-pack. 

Bruce cursed quietly and huskily. I pulled away, my lips wet and swollen with arousal. Bruce, with half-lidded eyes, suddenly grabbed my ass. I let out a squeak as he stood up. I wrapped my arms and legs around his midsection. I buried my head in his neck, laughing at the abrupt change in positions. 

Bruce forced me to abandon my things but I didn’t mind. When I met his intense, passionate gaze, I melted. No words were exchanged as he carried me with ease into an elevator. The moment he hit the button and the door closed, I attacked his lips again. 

I lost complete awareness of my surroundings, even when he exited the elevator. To me, he and I were the only things of this world. Everything that was important faed into the background. And as Bruce dropped me on the bed, immediately resuming a position above me, he was the only thing that mattered.

~~~

I hummed quietly, a feeling of pure ecstasy and peace consuming me as I woke up. I felt an arm around my waist. My vision was still groggy as I turned to my other side. I was confused as I came face to face with her. She was sleeping. I took in her naked, sleeping form. Her beautiful caramel skin, her short, messy hair, the blanket that covered her upper chest. She was breathing softly. And yet, I was in the same bed as I was with him…

Her eyes blinked. She gave me the softest smile.

“Sleep well?”

I blinked, and suddenly, it was Bruce. A blush of embarrassment and shame spread across my cheeks, but Bruce interpreted in different. He chuckled, leaning closer and pressing his forehead against mine. I melted as he pulled me closer and pressed a kiss to my lips. 

I brushed off the hallucination. It meant nothing. It was nothing. It never happened. As our lips separated, I breathed in response, "Yes. Last night… was perfect.”

Bruce blushed. “Good. It was… my first.”

I let out a gasp of excitement. “Really? Oh wow, I feel honored. Oh - it was good, wasn’t it? I should’ve made it way more special —"

He shut me up with another kiss, his nose scrunching in amusement. He had a lovely, natural smile on his handsome expression. His eyes were soft. They made me feel soft. “It was incredible, Y/n.”

My worries washed away and I sunk back into the comforter. I glanced past him, looking at the curtains. The sun was shining through them, and a realization flashed in my mind. I rolled onto my other side, grasping for a phone. I didn’t have mine - I left it downstairs - but Bruce’s was on the bedside table. I snatched it, immediately seeing that it was… only seven o’clock. My shift started at nine today. Thank god.

Bruce rolled closer to me. “Thinking about work?”

“Yeah. I’ll have to head home at some point to grab my uniform.”

“Just quit. I can easily fund for you to be a full-time vigilante.”

That struck a chord with me, and not a good one. “N - no, I couldn’t. I have to make sure Selina and I can pay the rent.”

“I’m sure you’ll make a much greater impact if you can scour the streets for criminals full-time.”

“Selina wouldn’t like that.” I rolled on my side to face him again, feeling rather stressed from the sudden propositions. 

“Selina doesn’t like a lot of things,” he countered, caressing my cheek. “I could easily help you out. It would be making a difference for the city. Plus, you’d be able to live a cushier life.”

“You make it sound like it’s a sugar daddy arrangement.”

“No, nothing like that. I just… trust you. I believe in you. And a part time job isn’t good enough to fund suit and weapon upgrades.”

“It would put a dent in our relationship. Selina wouldn’t stand for it.”

“And what about you?” he grimly remarked. “It’s always about what Selina wants and thinks. What do you think?”

“Well… I… It’s a nice offer, I have to admit,” I sighed. “I just…”

“Just?” he prodded further.

“I’ll just think about it. Is that an acceptable answer?” I chuckled.

“For now.”

He suddenly stretched, rolling onto his back. He kicked the covers off, and out of embarrassment, I covered my eyes. He laughed in amusement, but didn’t comment. I heard him look through his wardrobe, and I parted my fingers just enough to peek before covering my eyes again. I heard him slip on his sweat pants, and I finally removed his hands. I couldn’t help but admire his bare chest, though.

“I have an online meeting to attend for about an hour. When you’re hungry, just head to the kitchen and ask Alfred to make something,” he informed as he pulled a dress shirt over his head.

I hummed in response, finally sitting up. “Alright. I might not see you before I have to get going to work, though, Bruce.”

He just nodded, giving me a curt wave. “I’ll drop by the diner at lunch.”

“Bye, Bruce.”

I giggled before finally removing the blanket. I stole some of his clothes. I was about to leave the room to freshen up, but his phone buzzed. Out of curiosity, I grabbed it. For such a secretive man, I was surprised it wasn’t password protected. I quickly noticed that the notification was from the GPS tracker app.

I opened it. The tracker had stopped inside a large storage unit by the sea. 

She was probably at her base. Good. But Bruce was already working and I had work now. I… could take the day off. Selina wasn’t working now, either. And it would be a good chance to prove to her I wasn’t completely dog shit at this whole vigilante thing. Because I was certain that when she realized that Bruce - Batman - and I had a thing, she immediately thought that he was carrying me through the process.

But, when she realizes I had caught Harley Quinn and was going to take her down and was going to carry Selina, she might actually respect me in this ‘business.’ So, I quickly stole Bruce’s phone and went to my phone. 

I raced to the living room to grab my things. I quickly texted my boss and then I called up Selina. I could only hope that she wasn’t asleep. But, she answered immediately.

“Where have you been? You didn’t come home last night. You better not have been with him —"

“For your information, I was,” I interrupted in anticipation. “Listen, Br - Batman’s in a meeting right now and Harley Quinn’s at her base. I’ve taken the day off work. Come with me to catcher. Please?”

“I’ll go by myself —"

“Jesus, Selina. You really think I’m that incompetent?” I snapped.

“Harley Quinn is dangerous —"

“So, I guess I’ll just go by myself.”

“No. No! Just… Fucking fine. Come home first and we’ll go from there. How about it?” she caved, much to my glee.

“Great!” I exclaimed ecstatically. “I’ll be there soon. Give me… half an hour. The taxi might take a while with morning traffic and all.”

“But there’s only traffic downtown. Tell me what his address is —"

I hung up on her, grabbing my stuff. And so, I was off.

The taxi trip went by in a flash. Before I knew it, I was in my apartment building.

“Selina?” I called as I opened the front door. I was shaking in my combat boots with anticipation, as my boss regretfully let me go for the day. I knew the diner needed me, but the city needed me even more. 

The house was seemingly barren as I entered. Selina had yet to emerge. I set my bag and suit on the counter.

 “‘Lina?” I called again in confusion. 

I rounded the corner, figuring that she was in her room changing.

I didn’t have time to react as something large and metal hit the side of my head. My vision went dark.

~~~

My first reaction, when I came to, was to sit up. However, my head was pounding. A sturdy arm pressed me back down and I struggled, until my vision became clear and I saw that it was only Bruce. 

I was confused, gazing around my apartment. I was lying on my couch, and the sun was peaking through the window, high in the sky. So many questions were going through my head. Where was Selina? How was Bruce here? What time was it?

Bruce brushed some of my hair out of my face, hushing me. “Before you ask, she’s gone. She knocked you out and took the tracker.”

“How are you here, though, Bruce?” I inquired hoarsely. 

“I tracked my phone.”

Bruce sighed. “I followed the path to what I figured was your apartment. I had a feeling that I’d find you here. I didn’t think she was so violent,” he hissed.

“But she has the phone. It should’ve led you to her,” I countered immediately.

“As much as I appreciate the thought, it would’ve been more productive to follow her,” I squeaked, raising my voice. “She could have been caught already. Or worse, killed! I trust her, but Harley Quinn has henchman and she herself is a complete psycho. That’s two-man job and I thought she’d understand that!”

“Good riddance,” Bruce huffed underneath his breath.

“How dare you,” I gasped, pushing him away and immediately kicking my feet off the couch. “I know she can be a pain, but she’s still my best friend, my sister! God, Bruce, I know you don’t like her, but you can at least —"

“At least what?” Bruce grunted, towering over me as he grabbing my shoulders. I tried to shrug him away, but his grasp was tight. “She treats you like you’re her property. She doesn’t think you’re capable of anything and she’s clearly violent. She controls your every move —"

“Then what are you doing right now?” I seethed. He finally took a step back, released me. Shame washed over his expression. “You’re not any better than her. And at least she’s known me for, what, a decade now?”

“If you doubt what I feel for you —"

“I don’t. I never said that. But what I am saying is that you’re fucked for even implying that she’s better off dead. Now, shove off and leave it to me.”

“But you need the address.”

I rose to my feet, but halted anyways. He was right. I bowed my head. “Whatever. Just… let me handle the whole rescue mission when I get there. I’m… going to get changed.”

Bruce’s gaze followed as I grabbed my outfit and went into my room, suiting up.

~~~

We were only a few storage units away. And that was when we decided to start being sneaky. We were walking, but we peered around every corner and eyed every camera. The storage units were surprisingly barren. Whatever they were planning clearly wasn’t taking up a lot of space. Hell, it was hard to believe that all of Harley Quinn’s weapons and men resided in one storage unit.

I was still completely pissed at Bruce. But, for the time being, I needed him. 

“It’s this one up ahead…” He grabbed my arm suddenly, stopping me. “This doesn’t feel right, though. Something’s off.”

“I think so too. Do you think it’s a trap?”

Bruce bit his lips. “Maybe. But it was probably a trap for Selina. I can’t imagine them sticking around the crime scene for long.”

“So… you don’t think it’s their base?”

“No. She’d need at least a dozen to have enough space for everything. These storage units aren’t that large.”

I nodded in agreement. “If this is your way of saying that we should go in together, no way in hell. Selina seriously needs to learn to see me as a capable person.”

“Sure.” I appreciated Bruce’s ease. Even though I was mad, that certainly lightened the mood. Maybe his feelings made him biased, but at least he thought me to be strong. “I’ll keep a look out. Stay safe, Y/n. And go through that side door.”

That was all I needed. I took the green light. I went to the back door, the storage unit looming over me. I grabbed the handle and pushed.

I cringed as it squeaked loudly. And yet there was no noise from inside.

It opened with ease. 

Confused, I pushed it open. The storage unit was spacious and open and… empty. But there had to be a catch.

I entered, withdrawing my whip. However, all was abandoned as I realized that there was only one chair in the center, and tied to it was Selina.

I dashed over to her, occasionally glancing around the storage unit. It was empty, except for her. Clearly, Harley Quinn and her henchmen had packed up and left. I tucked my whip away again, tears sprouting to my eyes. The moment I made it to her, I crouched in front of her, drinking up her appearance.

She was still in her Catwoman garb. Her wrists were tied behind the chair while each foot was tied to a leg. Her head was bowed and she was clearly passed out. However, I was shocked to see that she was completely unarmed. Harley Quinn had no real reason to spare her life, unless if there was a message behind it.

I grabbed her head and tilted it up. I shook it vigorously, trying to get her to wake up. It was in vain, though, so instead, I moved to untie her. I was sure that the rope’s grip left some bruises, but I was glad that was the only harm dealt to her. 

“Bruce!” I shouted, hoping he’d heard me.

Indeed, he had, as he dashed in with his fists clenched. He expected a fight, clearly, but when he saw us, I could tell the dots connected in his head. He rushed over, also checking Selina over. 

“She’s unharmed?”

“She seems to be,” I sighed in relief. “But it’s… stranger. Quinn had her chance. She could’ve tortured her for information, killed her, anything… And yet, she’s unharmed. It’s like they were rushing to leave.”

Bruce clicked his tongue. “She’s a distraction.”

I gasped. “Y - yes…! You’re right, I should’ve realized it sooner. Bruce, check the news!”

Bruce pulled out his phone. I rose to my feet, peering over to look at his phone. He pulled up the browser and typed in the website for Gotham news. My heart sank in realization as there was a new headliner.

Bruce clicked, enlarging it so we could read the article. 

‘HARLEY QUINN STRIKES AGAIN : MAYORAL RUNNER UP MURDERED.’

“A mayoral runner up. That’s oddly specific. It was targeted. Political,” I hummed.

“You don’t think she’s trying to put a stop to the election, do you?” Bruce theorized.

“It… makes sense,” I agreed. “It would explain the bank robbery. The targeted murder. The need for a distraction.”

Bruce was about to reply, but a quiet groan turned both of our attentions to Selina.

“Y/n,” she coughed out. 

Immediately, I melted, crouching in front of her. I cupped her cheeks. She coughed again, blinking, but as soon as she realized it was me, energy flooded her systems and she collapsed over me into a hug. I hugged back, laughing. 

“I’m sorry,” she heaved into my shoulder.

“I’ve got you, Lina. You’re safe.”

I didn’t respond because if I answered with an ‘I’m fine’ it’d be an obvious lie. Instead, I let her recover as Bruce hovered behind me. He’d already put his phone away.

“We have to plan. Y/n, Selina, your apartment is closer than mine. Let’s head there.”

Selina tilted her head, confused. “Plan? For what?”

“We’ll fill you in,” I reassured, helping her get to her feet. 

Selina just nodded, clinging to my side. “…Thanks.”

@moonmaiden1996

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

evilkneival123@gmail.com just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

[the-iceni-bitch]

Killing Floor

Pairing: dark!Mr. Freezy x dark!fem!Reader

Words: 4389

Summary: You run into Robert Pronge one night and end up tangled in a scheme together.

Warnings: DARK so, so dark, please do not read if these type of fics upset you! non-con (erring on the safe side), dub-con (for sure), very graphic violence (m to f and f to m), death, gore, explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, hate-fucking, cavalier use of a handgun), SMUT, 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: My first dark fic! It got away from me for sure but I enjoyed it. Please, please be mindful of the content you are consuming though, this could very easily be upsetting! Because of this, I’m only gonna tag my fellow Freezy hoes here, as I haven’t updated my taglist doc to include dark!Fics.

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

You eyed the Mr. Freezy truck warily as you carried your garbage to the dumpster behind your apartment building. This was the third time this week you had seen it outside your place, and it was setting you on edge. There were hardly any kids in your neighborhood, so you didn’t know why it was hanging out here.

You cursed under your breath as the truck moved to the mouth of the alley, blocking your exit. You pressed your back to the wall behind the dumpster, right as a man exited into the alleyway from the bar underneath your place to smoke a cigarette.

A massive man in a white uniform stepped out of the back of the ice cream truck and walked towards the smoker, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves as he made his approach. He asked him for a cigarette before pulling a silenced pistol out of his jacket and shooting his target three times in the chest.

You schooled your breathing as you watched him drag the body to the back of his truck, trying to remain as still as possible. He stormed back into the alley to search for the shell casings, turning his back to you as he collected them.

Your legs were starting to cramp from your crouched position, and as hard as you were trying to stay still, it was getting difficult. You tried shifting your foot, but your ankle rolled in your heels and you let out a hiss. The killer straightened up suddenly at the sound, cocking his head as he turned toward you with a sneer on his face.

“Is that a little kitty I hear?” He jeered as he walked toward you, his voice thick with a Boston accent.

You stood up from your hiding place, preparing to make a run for it. He saw you tense up and lunged at you, wrapping a massive hand around your throat and pinning you against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs and cracking your skull against the bricks.

“Nice try, sweetheart, but I can’t let you go just yet.” He pressed his body against yours to pin you, his other hand brushing his stringy hair from in front of his glasses. “You have got horrible timing. To think I almost got out of here without getting a look at you, kitten.”

You just glared him as he moved his hand down from your throat to dip inside your blouse, grinning as he pawed at you as he buried his face in your shoulder, grinding his crotch into you.

“Think I’m gonna have a little fun with you before I let you go. You’re being so good and quiet.” He panted against your neck. Suddenly he stilled and drew his face up to look you in the eyes. “Why haven’t you called for help?”

He had relaxed just enough to allow you to move and you drove your knee between his legs at the same time you shoved your hand into his jacket and drew out his pistol, whipping it across his face and sending him sprawling.

“You cunt!” He spat, bloody spittle flying from the corners of his mouth as he moved to charge you again, stopping short when you pressed his gun to his temple. “Oh, you stupid little bitch.”

“I’m the stupid bitch?” You growled at him. “You wanna tell me what the fuck a Gambino hitman is doing so far outside of their territory?”

“Shit.” He hissed between his teeth as he eyed you warily. “You’re with the Genoveses?”

“That’s right.” You said, drawing back the hammer on the pistol. “Now answer my question.”

“Alright, alright!” He raised his hands in supplication, showing you his palms. “Fella in my truck has a father who owes Marks a good chunk of change, and y’know, he needed a little incentive to pay off his debt.”

“Marks gave you the ok to take out this hit? The mans getting bold.” You snorted, releasing the hammer as you pulled the gun back. “Lucky for you, I feel like leaving this to the bosses to figure out. Get the fuck out of here.” He stood up warily and reached for his gun, which you pulled back with a tut. “No, I’m gonna hold onto this for now. Maybe I’ll give it back later.”

Mr. Freezy growled as he brushed off his uniform and stalked back to his truck, grumbling under his breath the whole time. You just winked at him as he drove away, heading back up to your apartment to call this in.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

  You saw him again 2 weeks later at a sit-down. Marks came to make amends to your boss for overstepping, hoping to find someway show his remorse for sending his man into the Family’s territory without permission. You were perched on a stool in the back of the room when the two men entered, and a small smirk teased your lips.

Lombardo liked bringing you to meetings as a distraction. Most of his comrades assumed you were there for eye candy, just the latest piece of tail the boss was wetting his dick in, too stupid to care about. But the real reason he kept you around was for protection. He loved the look of surprise that came over his enemies’ faces when you pulled out your garrot.

“Great to see you Leo!” Lombardo said warmly, moving to give the man a kiss on each cheek before sinking into his chair, gesturing for Marks to join him. “Y/N, grab us some wine sweetheart. Does your man want any?”

“No, I don’t like my men drinking while they work.”

You moved to open the wine when a massive palm wrapped around your upper arm.

“This is the bitch I told you about, boss.” The killer seethed as he wrenched you around viciously.

“The fuck are you doing, Pronge?” Marks hissed, giving you a chance to grab the corkscrew and press it to Robert’s throat. “Benny, I apologize for my man’s behavior, he’s been foaming at the mouth about some broad getting the best of him and it’s made him a little erratic.”

Lombardo just laughed as Pronge released you with a duck of his head. You kept the corkscrew where it was, watching a thin trickle of blood run down his neck.

“Let him go, Y/N.” He said with a wave of his hand, and you moved to open the wine, pouring two glasses and bringing them over to the seated men. “My girl has a tendency to elicit that type of reaction. It’s one of the reasons I keep her around!” He gave you a pat on the ass as you headed back to your stool, your eyes trained on Robert Pronge.

He was glowering at you maliciously as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his forearms flexing as he clenched his fists. You heard him growl from deep in his chest when you gave him a conspiratorial wink.

“You see my problem Leo, we can’t have Gambinos moving through our territory with impunity, as much as we can sympathize with the need to collect a debt. Fortunately for you, the boss is still soft on you fellas, so we’ve come up with a solution I think will work for everyone.”

“Ah, Benny, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me! Of course, whatever you need.”

“Excellent! We’ve got a little problem with one of Big Mike’s nephews. The kids an idiot and has been making some waves that are making it increasingly difficult to manage our operations, I’m sure you know the type.”

“There’s one in every family.” Marks said with a shake of his head.

“That there is. Anyways, Funzi wants us to deal with the kid under the radar. I’d normally send in Y/N on her own to take care of it, but as great as she is, the kid is surrounded by morons all the time. We also have a disposal problem. Funzi wants to make it seem like the kid ran off with some bitch, hopefully avoid a war, and we’ve heard that your man Pronge here is a disposal expert.”

“Oh, fuck no!” Pronge exclaimed. “I’m not working with this cunt!”

“You’ll do what I order you to do, or I’ll fucking end you, now shut the fuck up!” Marks roared at Robert, making him wince as he leaned back against the wall. “He’ll do it.”

“Glad to hear it.” Benny murmured, his nostrils flaring in anger as he gave you the signal to relax. “Let’s drink to our friendship while we let these two hash out the details.”

You stood up from your stool with a deep sigh as you moved towards your new partner. The man looked like he wanted to murder you, and you just gave him a wicked grin. He seemed to relax as you went over the plan with him, not really offering any notes, just grunting in acknowledgement as his eyes roamed over your body. You managed to come to a grudging agreement and made plans to meet in two days to carry everything out.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

  You had been waiting outside the club for 10 minutes when Pronge finally parked his sedan across the street. He leered as he walked towards you, eyes drinking you in. You looked extremely different than the last time he saw you, relaxed in a flowing dress that stopped mid-thigh and plunged almost all the way down to your navel.

“You always dress like a whore on the job?” He grumbled as the two of you headed to the entrance.

“Sure. You always dress like a clown?” You asked, wincing at the painful pattern on his shirt.

“Fucking bitch.” He muttered under his breath, not quite low enough that you couldn’t hear him.

“That’s right.” You said, your eyes roaming around the club as you looked for your man. “There he is.”

There was a group of young men in a booth at the back. The leader bent to snort a line of coke off the table before screaming for more drinks.

“What a fucking moron.” Pronge said from directly behind you. You could feel the suffocating heat of his body against your back as you stretched your neck. You sensed his eyes boring into you, searing over your bare flesh.

“Wait for my signal.” You muttered as you moved towards the dance floor, winding your way through the crowd smoothly until you positioned yourself in front of the mark’s table.

Pronge moved around the edge of the dancefloor as he kept an eye on you, you even danced like a slut. Your eyes were fixed on the mark as you gyrated to the music. It didn’t take long for the idiot to notice you. Your hands wandered all over your body as you swayed drunkenly, tracing the curves of your breasts and running over your neck languidly before dropping to your hips and teasing the hem of your skirt higher on your thighs.

He felt his dick starting to get hard as he watched you move, fighting the urge to pull you into an alley and fuck you until you couldn’t talk. His bitch wife had been refusing to put out for months, but ever since he first saw you in that alley, you’re all he could think about. He just wanted to shove his cock in that smart mouth of yours and shut you up for good. He had dreams about wrapping his hands around your throat as he ruined your pussy, marking your tits with his teeth as he split you open.

Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He did his best to school his thoughts as he watched the mark move to join you. He felt himself tense as he watched the moron slot himself behind you and grind against your ass. His hands roamed over your torso until he was cupping your breasts, squeezing them softly as you dropped your head back against his shoulder with a moan, arching into his grasp.

Robert lost his patience and stormed towards the bathroom, slamming the door open as he strode inside. His did his best to control his breathing as he checked the stalls for occupants. He heard your laugh coming from the corridor and he scrambled to conceal himself, perching on top of a toilet and closing the stall door as you entered the bathroom.

You were giggling breathlessly as the idiot mouthed at your neck. He ripped the sleeves of your dress down your arms until your tits were exposed, and you sighed as your nipples pebbled in the air. Your mark bent to run his mouth over your chest sloppily as he fumbled with his belt.

Pronge lowered himself to the floor gingerly, splaying his palm on the stall door and pushing it open slowly. Your eyes shot open and did your best to swallow a hiss. Something must have tipped off the mark, because he straightened suddenly and turned around.

You growled at Robert and wrapped your arms around the mark’s neck before he had a chance to raise the alarm, squeezing hard enough that his oxygen was cut off. Your eyes bored into his as you choked the man, bringing him to his knees as you crouched behind him, your body curled tightly around his. Pronge’s cock was pressing painfully against the front of his pants as he watched you work. Your dress gathered around your waist and your makeup smeared all over your face as the muscles in your arms strained with the effort of strangling the man.

He finally stopped fighting you, and you moved to grip his head at crown and chin before wrenching your arms in two different directions, snapping his neck. You dropped the body to the floor and stood slowly to glare at Pronge, your nostrils flaring.

“You’re supposed to be in the alley.” You seethed as you pulled your dress back over your shoulders, moving to check the hall for any alarm.

“You moved faster than I was expecting.” He hissed, climbing one of the toilets to open the small window to the alley. He gripped a pipe running over the ceiling and lifted himself up enough to shove his legs through. He moved his hands to brace against the sill as he slid through the narrow opening, his broad shoulders just barely able to fit through the frame. He dropped into the alley and looked around, ensuring there were no witnesses.

It was only a few seconds before you were shoving the body through the window for Pronge to catch. He couldn’t deny he was impressed. You were stronger than you looked to be able to lift all that dead weight through a window 8 feet off the ground. He caught it easily and hauled it to the Mr. Freezy truck, shoving it in the back before moving back to the window.

He came back to find you with your legs dangling from the window as you slid through. You dropped softly on the balls of your feet, being careful not to roll your ankles as you landed in your stilettos.

Robert was leering as you strutted past him, your hips swaying suggestively as you made your way to the truck, wrenching open the doors and stepping inside. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, pulling out slowly as you worked to wrap the body in plastic sheeting.

The two of you reached the warehouse in a little under an hour. Robert backed the truck into the loading bay and threw it in park before moving around to open the dock doors. He opened the back doors of the truck and tossed the body over his shoulder as you stepped out.

“Just head straight through.” He instructed you. You gave him a nod over your shoulder as you headed in. He grinned wickedly to himself as he watched your ass swinging back and forth in those heels, moving to follow you.

You found the old slaughterhouse easily and lowered a hook over the drain in the floor as he came to stand behind you, close enough that he had you on edge.

Once the hook was low enough, you moved forward in tandem. You ripped the plastic sheeting off the body as Pronge moved to wrap the hook and chain around the ankles. Once everything was secure, you stepped back to raise the chain.

Robert was still watching like a hawk. You did your best to ignore his eyes on you as you stood with one hip cocked, one heel tapping impatiently on the slanted floor.

Once it was at the required height, you stepped forward to drain the body without an ounce of hesitation, pulling a hunting knife out of your bag.

He growled from deep in his chest as he watched you work, leaned against the railing surrounding the killing floor, his cock starting to harden again as you stepped back, wiping your blade on a handkerchief.

“Almost forgot, Pronge.” You said, digging your hand in your purse and pulling out a pistol. You grinned at the panic on his face before flipping the gun in your hand so the grip was pointed at him. “This is yours.”

He took it from you warily and shoved it into the waist of his slacks, eyes still boring into you as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

“We’ve got some time to kill sweetheart.” He murmured as you moved to walk past him, heading back towards the loading bay.

Just like that he was on you, one giant hand wrapping around your throat as he slammed you against the wall, your head cracking against the concrete and your teeth snapping together painfully. You brought your knife up whip fast and pressed it to his throat at the same time he drew the gun from his waistband and pressed it to your abdomen.

“You’re just turning me on even more, kitten.” He leered at you, slipping the gun down the curve of your hip and drawing the hem of your skirt up your thigh with the barrel. He brushed the edge of his hand against your panties, groaning at how soaked you were.

He brought his other hand down and shredded the thin fabric easily, tucking the ruins in his back pocket before digging his fingers into your hip, gripping you hard enough to draw bruises. He sneered at you as he slipped the gun between your legs, running the barrel between your folds and teasing it against your clit, making you arch into him with a hiss.

“God, what a fucking slut you are.” He chuckled as he slipped the cool metal over your sex, your arousal soaking the steel as you writhed against it. “Acting so stuck up, and here this cunt is begging for me. Maybe I should fuck you with my gun, would you like that?”

He pressed the tip of the barrel against your entrance and you spat in his face, pressing the knife further into his neck and giving a mock sound of sympathy as a drop of blood welled at the tip.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, fucker.” You ordered him, grinding yourself into the steel as another round of arousal seeped from your pussy as it clenched around nothing.

“Oho, you bitch. I’m gonna fucking ruin you.” He growled menacingly at you as you slipped your hand under the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one at a time at an agonizing pace as you kept your blade trained on his jugular.

“Promises, promises.” You tutted, the coil in your abdomen growing tighter and tighter as you dug your nails into Robert’s chest, drawing a moan from deep in his throat.

He pressed the gun against your clit violently and grinned as you fell apart. Your legs trembled as you release gushed over the now-warm steel. You bit your lip as you gave a low moan, your cunt fluttering as came down from your high.

“That’s right, whore.” He withdrew the gun from between your legs and brought it up to his face, running his tongue over the barrel and moaning at the taste of you. He tossed the weapon aside carelessly before bringing his hands up to wrench the sleeves of your dress over your shoulders, until it was pooled around your ankles.

“Just fucking look at that.” He murmured as his eyes raked over you. “No wonder the Genoveses keep you a secret.”

He brought one hand to dig painfully into your breast as his other slipped between your thighs. You removed the knife from his neck before slashing it across his chest in a quick motion, making him hiss as you ducked your head to drag your tongue over the wound, moaning as the metallic taste of his blood hit your tongue.

His backhand sent your sprawling, your teeth cutting the inside of your cheek as the knife flew out of your hand. You laughed darkly as you straightened back up, spitting the blood out of your mouth as you watched him strip off his clothes.

“I’m gonna split you open and break you apart, cunt.” He spat as he stalked towards you. His body had an air of menace about it, thick corded muscles stretched over his frame that was covered in scars. “And you’re gonna fucking thank me.”

You groaned as he pounced on you, his mouth moving to trace your breasts hungrily as his fingers dug into the small of your back. You sucked in a harsh breath and wrapped your fingers in his hair painfully as you felt him sink his teeth into you and he moaned into your soft flesh. He moved his teeth over your tits in a vicious trail, marking you with them.

“Fuck.” You hissed as a particularly deep bite had him drawing blood.

He wrenched himself up to glare at you and wrapped his hand around your throat tight enough that it was cutting off your oxygen.

“I don’t wanna hear another word out of that mouth of yours.” He growled, pressing you against the wall again. “I’d shut you up with my cock, but I wanna wreck that hole between your legs first.”

He slapped his swollen tip against your pussy once before spearing into you. He grinned wolfishly as he felt your throat vibrating under his hand and he bent to scrape his teeth over your jaw.

“God, this whore pussy is so fucking tight.” He growled into your ear. “You’re squeezing me so hard, you gonna cum already?”

He felt you stiffen for a beat and then you were quivering around him, a thin whine escaping from your tightened throat as you raked your fingers down the muscles of his back, drawing deep gauges with your nails.

He slammed your head against the wall hard enough to draw blood as your release seeped over his cock, leaking down the inside of your thighs as you fought the urge to pass out.

Robert released you suddenly, his hand leaving your throat as he pulled out. You only had a second to suck in a breath as he spun you around, tilting your hips just a bit before slamming into you again. You pressed your cheek against the wall as he plunged into you brutally.

You let out a series of small whimpers as he pinched your nipples harshly, tugging at them and pulling your tits away from your body. You fought the urge to yelp when he slapped them, making your pussy clamp down on his cock as he fucked into you.

“What a good little slut you are.” He hissed in against your hair, smearing his face through the blood seeping from your head wound. “Yeah, you love the feel of my big fucking cock inside you?”

The only answer you could give was a low moan, followed by a gasp as he wrapped a hand around to pinch your clit.

“That’s right bitch, cream all over me. God you’re fucking cock drunk, aren’t you?”

You just whined as he tweaked your clit one more time and you came apart, your legs giving out. Robert wrapped a hand around your thigh and drew it up to pin against your waist as your body quivered against him, your pussy milking his cock as your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Fuck.” He whispered as his cock twitched inside you and he sank his teeth into your shoulder as he came, blood welling into his mouth as you cried wordlessly and he shot his seed into you, coating your canal in thick hot ropes that seeped out over your thighs.

He kept fucking you through it until he started to soften, then shoved you against the wall violently, pulling away and spitting your blood out of his mouth.

He watched you closely as you turned around, doing his best to keep from hardening again as he looked at you. Your hips and thighs were covered in bruises that were sure to darken even more over the next few days. There was the trace of his hand over your neck that you were absentmindedly running your fingers over. The side of your face where he had slapped you was starting to swell, a shallow cut running along your cheekbone. Blood was leaking from the corner of your mouth and your chest was covered in angry bite marks, some of them bleeding.

You wiped your hand across your face as you stared back at him, wincing. He didn’t look any better. His chest was covered in deep scratches and claw marks, smeared with blood from the cut on his chest. A thin red trail was running down his neck from the shallow prick you had made under his chin. His face was smeared with your blood from where he had buried himself in your hair, and when he turned to collect his clothes, you admired the deep gauges you’d made in his back.

“That was something.” You murmured, catching your dress in mid-air as he tossed it at you. You flicked your head towards where the body was suspended and gave a deep sigh. “Where’s your bonesaw?”

A/N: Welp, I’m going to hell, but at least I’m taking you hoes with me!

Tags!

@stargazingfangirl18​ @starlightcrystalline​ @ozarkthedog​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @slothspaghettiwrites​ @sultrygoblin​ 

[chicken-fifi]

The Protector and the Protected - Part III

Description: After a minor slip up in security, the existence of the only daughter of a diplomat is leaked to the world. With no knowledge of what other unprecedented dangers may arise, your father brings you home after an attempt on your life while living abroad. Upon your return, you are assigned a personal bodyguard to ensure your safety who is to be by your side practically every waking moment. Come hell or high water, he makes sure that you’re as safe as can be while under his watch. As much as you tell yourself that this isn’t some bodyguard fanfic where you end up falling in love, somehow your protector manages to make you question that small detail.

Warnings: Violence, guns, cursing, sexual inuendos, kidnapping, constant danger, mass shootings, smut, idk man just stuff

Word Count: 1,496 words

The Protector and the Protected Masterlist

| Part I | Part II | Part III |

Seonghwa walked briskly through the doors of the security building nodding in acknowledgement of the other security personnel who were leaving after having received their new assignments for the day. Taking the elevator to the fourth floor he made his way to his team leader’s office, he knocked once on the door before opening it and walking in. His leader sat at the desk, looking up immediately as soon as Seonghwa entered.

“How was the flight?” he asked. “And how was Iceland?”

“It was calm up until a few days ago,” Seonghwa replied, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “The flight was-.”

“Good to hear. I’ve got your new assignment. Well it’s not really new it’s still Mr. (y/l/n)’s daughter, only you’ll be here rather than in-”

“No. I’m not taking on another babysitting assignment.”

“You were specifically requested by Mr. (y/l/n) himself. He trusts you after having kept her safe during the-”

“The deal was that I would guard her in Iceland and when I got the chance to come back here I’d be let go and pretend we’ve never met.”

“I know what the deal was,” the older man sighed, standing up and walking to the window. “Just this once Seonghwa. It won’t be as bad as you think it’ll be.”

Rolling his eyes Seonghwa stood from the chair not uttering another word knowing that arguing would get him nowhere. Despite the fact that he could very well be on his way to living out the rest of his days in the countryside of some foreign nation, it was in his best interest to complete this final assignment lest the other end of the deal not be kept. He was at their mercy after all. 

‘You just had to be a mercenary and get framed didn’t you,’ he thought to himself as he grabbed the file being held out before leaving the boring little office and trudging out of the building to a black sedan. Once inside he opened the file not finding anything that he didn’t already know about you. There were still the same allergies, you clearly still had the same parents, only now the whole world knew who one of those parents was and wanted to get to you to get to him. The cruel reality of the things humans would do to get power. Putting the key in the ignition, he put the gear in drive and began driving to the estate where he was to meet you…again…although this time you would actually know he was there. 

The drive seemingly flew past with him cursing at everything that crossed his line of sight, save for the old lady who was crossing the street with a small child. He pulled to a stop outside the gate and rolled down the window showing his ID before driving past the gates as they opened. Stepping out of the car as soon as it’s parked and off he prances up the small set of stairs before walking through the front door and beginning to make his way up the set of the stairs only be stopped by Mr. Jung - a man who dislikes him as much as he does back - informing him of the conference call Mr. (y/l/n) is in. So back down the stairs he goes, this time making a beeline towards the kitchen, deeming Mrs. Dong - the head of the kitchen staff - much better company than the rat faced secretary.

He listens to the old woman as she fills him in on all the gossip since the last time he stepped foot in the estate - which is quite a lot given how long he had been in Iceland with you. Munching away on the small platter of fruit she’d laid out before him he gives his own two cents every so often, sometimes teasing her a little earning himself a small smack from the frail looking lady.

“Kiseok’s dating one of the female guards,” she spills, grabbing his attention at the mention of his good friend’s name - he’d have to call him soon before he found out through the grapevine that he was back in the country. “You didn’t hear it from me but I also heard that Wonjae has taken quite a liking to Mr. Jung’s niece too!”

He choked on the sip of water he’d just taken at that information. Wonjae and that rat faced man’s niece? The world must’ve really gone mad while he was gone. He coughed and coughed a hand beginning to pat his back out of nowhere.

“You’ll kill the boy if you continue on with your gossiping,” Mr. Dong says as he walks into the kitchen. He gives his wife a small smile before turning to look back at him. “Nice to see your face around here although word has it that you’ll be leaving soon with the young Miss.”

“So it is true!” Mrs. Dong interjects. “You’ve been given orders to watch over Miss (y/l/n).”

Mr. Dong let out a small chuckle before chugging a glass of water down and heading back out to work in the garden. As Mrs. Dong kept asking him questions and then answering some on her own; he couldn't help but let out his own chuckles at the old woman’s nosy nature. He had to admit that as much as he wanted to live out his days alone elsewhere, they would get quite dull without hearing the daily gossip from Mrs. Dong. He continued listening, giving her playful answers whenever she asked him the odd question that she couldn’t answer.

“It’s you!” a voice interrupted one of his answers. “You saved me in the alley!”

He turned to look at the owner of the voice and saw you, your eyes wide like those of a child having been given the toy they’d asked for on Christmas Day. It was only cementing the fact that he was stuck babysitting you for who knows how long.

“And,” Mrs. Dong began turning to look at you, “word has it he’s your bodyguard.”

“More like a babysitter,” he adds under his breath, earning a glare that holds the threat mirroring that of a cupcake from you. Mrs. Dong smacked him. “What?”

“Would you like some fresh fruit Miss?” the old woman offered. “It’s from the garden.”

You take her up on the offer taking a seat across from him and eating from the plate placed in front of you as you converse with Mrs. Dong completely ignored his existence. How very mature of you. Turns out he may not be too far off on the babysitting comparison. 

Not much time had passed before Mr. Rat face entered the kitchen sending a smile your way before glaring at him. The conference call was over and there was a small window of time your father could spare for the both of you. Being led up to the office, Mr. Jung opens the door allowing you both to enter before closing it - almost hitting Seonghwa in the process.

“Agent Lee,” your father greets him. “I don’t know where to begin in thanking you for keeping my daughter safe. I owe you the world. Thank you for accepting to continue watching over her here. There’s no one I would trust her life with more.”

‘Not like I had much of a choice,’ he thinks as he nods silently.

“The safe house is ready and you can move there today,” he adds before looking at you. “Seonghwa will keep you safe there. And you’ll be able to have a little bit more freedom away from here. It’ll be quieter and less busy.”

You smile a little at the thought before he asks Seonghwa for a moment alone with you. As soon as he exits the room he takes a step closer to you.

“I know it’s going to be hard to adjust to this - to have a bodyguard by your side at every waking moment - but I need you to trust him and to not do anything that will put you at risk.”

“I’ll try,” you assure, getting a little head shake from your father. “Will you visit?”

“I’ll try,” he says using your words. “I won’t be able to go often, but I’ll call when I can.”

The two of you walk out of the office, making your way down to the front door where Seonghwa is busy pulling faces at Mr. Jung. Your father shakes his head at the sight before pulling you into a hug. 

“Trust him.”

He lets you go walking you out to the lone black sedan parked outside and opening the door for you. Seonghwa takes the door, shutting it closed before turning to face your father speaking to him before they shake hands and he jogs around the front of the car and gets in starting it and beginning to drive away leaving the estate behind you.

[carelessannie]

lookin for love (in all the wrong places)

chapter five

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

In CA:CW Steve kicks Spider-Man in the chest, awakening a soul deep bond and sending Peter into his first heat, before running away to Wakanda.

The soul bond, omegaverse, Spidershield angsty romance everyone needs.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Peter Parker Chapters: 5/ Chapter word count: 6.5K Fic Rating: E Warnings: mild violence and implied sex trafficking, extreme levels of fluff Read it here on AO3 Title is from this song by Johnny Lee

Steve

The ferry docks in the Åland Islands for a few hours overnight, allowing the two of them to sleep in shifts to be safe. After dinner, they had swept the ship for suspicious persons and bugs, tagging three places around their hallway with ears to keep an eye out for possible threats.

Even with the precautions, Steve feels on edge as they sail in the morning. Neither he nor Natasha get more than a few hours of sleep, and once the sun rises, they decide to spend the rest of the journey on the upper deck. Separating for the duration of the trip, Steve takes the helm while Natasha lounges closer to the stern.

There’s no attack, no threat to be concerned about— so when the ferry docks a few hours later, the two of them are already seated in their car and driving down the off-ramp. Steve takes the wheel first, while Natasha guides him East, following the sun until it sits high in the sky.

They stop at the border to Russia and switch vehicles, easily slipping through as the newly-mated Alpha and Omega couple on their Russian passports.

And if Natasha bats her eyes and gets them a free passage to St. Petersburg, Steve isn’t complaining.

It’s as they’re driving away that Natasha flinches at something one of the border police says under their breath, and Steve raises his eyebrow in question as he steers to merge back onto the highway. If Natasha is showing her reactions, it has to be important.

“They thought…” she pauses, chewing on her lower lip, before starting over, “When they reviewed our documents, they thought you might be my... trophy Alpha.”

“Okay,” Steve says slowly, furrowing his eyebrows, “Is that bad for us?” He doesn’t quite understand what the issue is, or why Natasha might be anxious. The two men— Betas, probably— had given them a suspicious onceover, but otherwise let them travel in peace.

Natasha makes a frustrated noise, “I’m not translating it right. They think you’re my stud— that I brought you in from America or England to… breed.”

Horrified, Steve almost swerves the car off the road. “What— does that happen often?”

“Often enough that they may call it in. It’s not illegal, technically, but if they catch wind of possible trafficking…”

“Oh,” Steve checks the rearview mirror, suddenly all too aware of the surrounding cars and trucks. “What’s our move, Nat? Do you think they’ll actually come after us?”

She shakes her head again, “Best to get to St. Petersburg. We can call Tony from there, and switch out cars. If someone’s on our tail, they’re bound to know where we’re headed anyways. Stark can get us new documents by the time we reach the base.”

“Fine. I assume you know your way around the city?”

“Steve,” Natasha coos, “haven’t I taught you not to ask questions you already know the answer to?”

He shoots her a grin, “Good, then you’re in charge of ditching our ride. I’ll make a few calls.”

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Natasha murmurs as she reclines in the seat, shifting to give herself a good view of both side mirrors while still seeing clearly out the front windshield. She crosses her feet at the ankle and pulls down the lid of a carefully worn baseball cap. If Steve didn’t know better, he would assume she fell asleep in the passenger seat.

They spend the last two hours of the drive in a tense silence, both of them on high alert. Steve knows from experience that Hydra likes to hide in plain sight— so he scans license plates, calculates distances, and carefully surveys the people in each car, looking for anything out of the ordinary. So far, nothing.

That changes when they enter the city.

Immediately, both of them sit up straighter, scanning the surrounding lanes for a threat.

“Do you—”

“Yes, stay alert,” Natasha hisses. Her hands are digging rapidly through her backpack until they pull out their last international phone. In one swift motion, she destroys it on the dashboard, lowering the window to sprinkle pieces onto the highway, sure to be crushed further by oncoming vehicles.

Steve changes lanes, inching closer to the quickly passing exit ramps. He doesn’t see a suspicious car— no black sedans, no tinted windows— but the feeling of being watched is undeniable.

“Exit here.”

Natasha’s voice is flat, and if Steve wasn’t listening for it, he would have missed the direction. Instead, he steps on the gas and throws the car into the right lane, barely avoiding the traffic cones as he speeds down the single exit ramp.

“Slower,” Natasha is reaching behind him as he merges back into traffic, this time heading West into the heart of the city. “When we get into the city, look for a coffee shop. You’re going to drop me off. Drive around the corner and watch for me— I’ll order you a drink inside and pretend I’m grabbing an item from my car. Instead, you will switch places with me, and sit outdoors drinking what I order. Keep your eyes up, run if you need to. I’ll rendezvous within an hour. Got it?”

“Got it,” Steve confirms, already slowing down as they breach the populated city limits. It isn’t long until he’s pulling up to a small café and Natasha is sauntering down the sidewalk, drawing any nearby attention to herself as he swings the car around back.

Traffic is thick, stifling, and he’s grateful to have the intel portion of this operation. Within five minutes, Natasha is in his rearview mirror, and he steps out of the vehicle to offer her the wheel.

He pulls his own hat lower to shield his face before slipping into the coffee shop, sidestepping immediately and settling into a corner table. There are three other patrons, all scattered throughout the space and engaged in the work in front of them. No threats yet.

“Peter?” a heavily accented voice calls, and Steve has to stop himself from flinching. It’s a common name— he needs to get himself under control. The voice calls out, “Peter?” once more, just as a tall, well-built man strides through the door, walking up the counter and picking up the drink.

The man turns around, “Huh. Didn’t know you were goin’ by Peter these days.”

“Sam,” Steve breathes, meeting his friends’ eyes with a shocked smile. He jumps to his feet and pulls the other man into a hug. It’s shakey— both of them chuckling and holding on tight— but the embrace is warm and feels like home.

“The hell are you doing here?” Steve grabs his arm, steering them both outside and towards the patio. “Not that I’m not grateful to see you, but… how did you find us?”

Sam shoots him a disbelieving look, placing the coffee cup between them before reclining back in his seat, “I got a tip a few days ago— something about Hydra and a base nearby. Stark got me a ride over yesterday and said I could plan on intercepting you here.”

Something in his face turns thoughtful, “You seriously didn’t see Redwing on the way in?”

“Uh,” Steve sorts through the details of their fast paced cut into the city, but can’t remember Sam’s drone being anywhere in sight.

Sam chuckles, “I followed you from the moment you entered the city— c’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t see him, not with the way you were driving.”

“Dammit, Sam,” Steve curses. “We thought…” and then he laughs, slumping back into the patio chair and scrubbing his face. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Sam spreads his arms wide, and gives Steve his widest, most charming smile, “Takes one to know one, Cap.”

There’s a beat of silence as Steve sips his drink— it’s perfect, not that he expected anything less from Natasha. Sam looks good, if not a bit tired. The smile on his face is practiced, and Steve knows it’s more for his sake than anything. They’ve never lied to each other, never had the opportunity to, so if Sam is appearing strained and weary, Steve knows he’s supposed to notice.

“Decide not to take a pardon, then?” Steve hedges, watching as Sam raises an eyebrow in amusement.

“No, Steve,” he looks out into traffic, carefully thoughtful, “it’s been a rough few months since Germany, but Sharon and I have been doing some ground work wherever King T’Challa is willing to send us. There’s a lot of shit going down, and— up until now— the only goal I really had was finding you again.”

A rush of guilt hits Steve in the chest, and he winces, “Look, I’m sorry for leaving you—”

“Hey, no— don’t do that,” Sam dismisses him, waving away the apology with one hand, “I knew you had to go to Wakanda, I had other shit that needed to get done.”

“Still, you deserved a better friend than that.”

Sam laughs, but the sound lacks any real joy, “I think we all deserved better than we got.”

There’s not much to say after, and Steve takes a long pull of his drink, trying discreetly to check his watch. Forty minutes until Natasha returns.

And speaking of, “So where did the Widow herself head off to?” Sam asks, checking his own watch. “Thought I’d catch both of you here.”

“Switching out cars. We assumed Hydra was tracking us into the city,” Steve narrows his eyes across the table, and it makes Sam laugh again.

“Damn, well... can’t say I’m sorry. Stark wanted me to keep a low profile until we crossed paths, and…” Sam sits up taller and leans across the table, forcing Steve to meet his eyes, “he mentioned something about keeping you stable.”

“God dammit—”

“Language.”

“Shut up, Sam,” Steve huffs, scrubbing his face with one hand, “why can’t Tony keep shit to himself.”

“Something I shouldn’t know about?”

Sam’s always been good at coaxing answers out of him, and Steve curses the other Alpha mentally for it. Why does he always attract friends who know him better than he knows himself?

“I found my soulmate, Sam.”

Jerking forward, the other Alpha’s eyes grow wide as his hands come down, hard, on the table. “Shit, Steve. When on earth did you have time—”

“I didn’t, Sam. That’s the thing. Fuck—”

He feels rage flow through his body for the first time in ages, and Steve’s hit with a flash of their bonding moment, marred by fear and devastation from his young Omega. He closes his eyes, remembering the residual pain from each heat. Scared and empty and alone.

There’s a hand on his arm, but Steve shakes it off, “Remember the kid Stark brought to Germany? Spider-man?”

“Sure, Bucky and I fought the kid, and he stuck us to the floor.”

“I fought him, too,” Steve sighs, rolling up the sleeve over his left arm to show the bright red and irritated word etched into his skin, “and I kicked him right in the chest.”

Sam doesn’t reach forward to touch. He barely gives it a glance, reaching over to roll up his own sleeve. Steve has to stop himself from growling in sympathy— the writing is black, smudged and illegible.

“Sam…”

With a sad smile, Sam rolls his shirt back in place, “It was years ago— and we bonded in combat. I got a few years with him on active duty, and then I felt when he was shot out of the sky.”

Sam meets his eyes, “Fucked me up good for a few years.”

“I had no idea.”

“I’m better now, sure. Wouldn’t show you if I wasn’t. Just letting you know, whatever you’re going through with this kid— because obviously you’re not with him now— that you’ve gotta value whatever time you get. In our line of business? I’m grateful I got years instead of moments, you know?”

Something clenches in his chest. Steve feels tears prick his eyes. He has to look away, afraid of the suddenly all too real possibility of crying in public. Quickly, he covers it up with a swig of cooling coffee, letting the emotions wash away alongside the bitter, familiar taste.

“I’ve never even met the kid, Sam. All I know is that he’s an Omega, and he has a strong bond with Tony.” Steve sighs, checking his watch again, “We were supposed to be extracted in Oslo, but got the tip instead. I’ll head home to him after we take care of the threat here.”

He can tell Sam disapproves of this choice, but the other Alpha just shakes his head, nodding to draw Steve’s attention back to the street, “Looks like our ride is here,” he chuckles just as a beat up Jeep swerves across traffic, coming to an abrupt stop in front of them.

The window rolls down, and Natasha makes a show of lowering her sunglasses, “Pickin’ up strays, Rogers?”

Both of them stand and approach the car, and Sam smiles as he takes the backseat, “Good to see you too, Romanoff.”

“I hope you brought your uniform,” she muses, swerving back into traffic once both of them are buckled in, “we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

---

Peter

I think you’d hate my friends, Alpha. I don’t know, maybe not. I think you’d like that they wanna take care of me, even if they’re both little pieces of shit. I bet a visit from Captain America would shut them up. Or… Are you still Captain America, Steve?

Just as Peter finishes the line, the main cafeteria doors slam open. Both of his friends— MJ and Ned— have their arms in the air, gesturing animatedly.

“There you are!”

It’s as if he summoned them. Damn Spidey-senses, never working when he needs them to.

Peter squirms in his seat, “Hey, guys…” he checks his exits, noting quick escape routes. Sure, he’s never actually needed to run from his friends, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. “What’s up?”

Ned scoots into the bench next to him, pressing in close and draping an arm over Peter’s shoulders. MJ takes a seat on Peter’s other side, and both of them give Peter award-winning smiles— terrifying, really. Matching smiles only usually mean one thing.

“Can’t we just hang anymore, Parker?” MJ rolls her eyes, taking a discreet look at the pages in front of Peter on the table.

He quickly closes his notebook, “Sure, sure. I mean, we can hang— we hang all the time,” Peter catches them exchanging a glance, and sighs, “is there something you want? I’m trying to get homework done before practice.”

With a shake to his shoulders, Ned chuckles nervously, “No, no… we’re just looking out— ow!”

Peter looks down. MJ definitely kicked him.

“— I mean, we’re just wondering…”

“You wanna go to a Halloween party, Peter?” MJ cuts in, flicking at Ned’s arm where it’s still draped around his shoulder. Her face is open, fairly honest, and it catches Peter off guard.

“When’s Halloween?” he asks, thankful when Ned pulls his arm back.

The two of them exchange another look, “Uh…” Ned clears his throat, “it’s today, Peter. Today’s Halloween.”

“Oh.” Peter peeks into his folders to check the date on today’s homework, and sure enough, October Thirtyfirst is printed clearly across every page. Huh. He’s usually great at remembering holidays like this. “I wonder why May didn’t say anything…”

“Because,” MJ grabs his backpack, starting to shove notebooks and textbooks back inside, “we asked her to keep it a surprise. And your mom, too. We just didn’t think you were enough of a dumbass to miss the whole holiday.”

“Honestly, Peter, I don’t get how clueless you can be.”

He just nods along, letting the two of them pull him out of the cafeteria and walk towards the carpool lane. Maybe some part of him wanted them to find him today— who knows? Several other, better, hiding spots come to mind, but Peter doesn’t have it in him to protest.

A night off sounds like too much fun.

His mood immediately improves when they step outside. Parked closest to them, dark and intimidating on the curb, is one of Mr. Stark’s cars.

Happy is standing outside, holding the back door open, “Hey, kid. C’mon— haven’t got all day.”

“Oh!” Peter turns to his friends, both of their expressions smug and satisfied, “Please tell me the party’s at the compound? Oh god, I literally have nothing to wear. I have no idea—”

“We’ve got it taken care of,” MJ pushes him from behind, and Ned laughs, motioning for Peter to get in the car first.

“How did you—” Peter slides into the back seat, freezing when he sees who’s waiting for him, “Mama!”

Mr. Stark smiles— wide and genuine— and opens his arms wide. “Hey, kid. Surprise?”

Peter melts into the older Omega’s arms and squirms to get closer, ignoring how his friends laugh and tease him as he does so. Mr. Stark ruffles his hair, and rearranges them as the car starts moving. Ducking under his arm, Peter settles into Mr. Stark’s side and lets his eyes slip shut with the steady movement and noise of chatter in the background.

“You have a good day, Pete?”

He looks up to Mr. Stark and smiles, “It was okay, a lot better now. Did you help plan this?”

“What do you think, bambino? These friends of yours are… passionate.”

The description makes Peter chuckle. He’s fully aware just how passionate his friends can be. They are digging through the amenities stored in hidden compartments, and somehow both end up with a can of soda and several boxes of candy.

Peter ignores them in favor of burying himself into the warmth of Mr. Stark’s scent. There are lazy, calloused fingers in his hair, and he relaxes even more— a pleased purr building effortlessly from his chest.

When they eventually pull up to the compound, Ned and MJ are out in a shot— barreling through the doors and screaming into the empty halls.

Before Peter can leave the car, Mr. Stark grabs his shoulders and turns them to face each other, staring intentionally into his eyes. “If you don’t want to do this, Peter, we don’t have to? I have about fifty people coming over for a costume party, but I can cancel it and we can spend the night just us, if you’d like?”

He takes a moment to actually think it over. His skin is crawling, eyes already heavy with exhaustion. The thought of socializing with more than a few people is turning his stomach, and he looks into Mr. Stark’s eyes with a helpless grimace, “I guess I wouldn’t mind a party…”

“But you’d rather not?” Mr. Stark guesses, giving him a knowing smirk. Peter scrunches up his nose and shakes his head, and gets a chuckle in response, “Alright bambino, let me make a few calls. Why don’t you go inside and coral the animals.”

Peter laughs and leans in to give Mr. Stark a quick peck on the cheek, “Okay, Mama. Don’t work too hard.”

He catches a glimpse of Mr. Stark’s embarrassed flush before hopping out of the car, skipping towards the compound joyfully. Now that the threat of social interaction is out of the way, Peter feels excited about Halloween and the evening ahead of them.

“Ned?” He calls out, “MJ? Where are you guys?”

“Try the Eastern living room, Peter,” Friday’s voice rings out in the hallway, and Peter turns around to race down the corridor in the opposite direction, still calling out their names.

“In here, Pete!” Ned hollers.

When he turns the corner, Peter comes face to face with the classiest Halloween party room he’s ever seen. Every wall is covered in glass decorations, backlit with soft lights in various colors. An entire section of the room has been converted to a wardrobe, and both of his friends are rifling through the options.

Peter gravitates towards them, pushing aside different dresses and masks, “What’s…”

“Look, Pete— I’m you!” MJ has a Spider-man mask pulled down over her face as she laughs, pretending to shoot webs from her wrists, “bet I’d be a kick-ass Spider-man.”

He just shakes his head, “I bet you would, MJ.”

“What about me?”

Both of them turn to look at Ned as he wobbles over, legs and arms shoved haphazardly into the wrong end of a Spider-man onesie. His face is so confident as he stands in the middle of the room, and Peter can’t help the cackle that bursts out of his mouth, bringing tears to his eyes as he keels over in laughter.

“Where did… what did…” he can barely breathe, and looking up again at Ned is just a mistake.

MJ isn’t any better. She tears off the mask and coughs loudly, falling to the floor in a heap, “Ned! Where did you find that?”

“What?” Ned whines, striking a pose that sends them back into a fit of hysterics, “I don’t get how you can fight bad guys in this Peter— I feel too sexy for crime right now.”

“Please!” Peter begs as he wipes away tears, “mercy!”

“What’s all the— oh mother of god,” Mr. Stark’s voice rings out in the room, and it sends all three teenagers back into peels of laughter. He stands at the entrance to the living room with his arms crossed and an indulgent smile stretched across his face, and Peter lets himself roll on the floor and laugh and laugh and laugh.

Peter turns onto his back and lets the tears flow. They drench his cheeks and drip onto the rug, creating small spots on both sides of his head. It feels good— freeing. His next inhale is deep, his mind clears completely, and Peter realizes this is the first time he’s laughed in months. That every time he’s cried in the past few weeks has been full of devastation and sorrow.

Their combined scents slowly fill the room and bind them together as the evening progresses, each of them relaxing further and further into the moment. By the time the sun’s setting, Ms. Potts and Aunt May arrive with delivery, and the small group of them curl up on the couches to watch a Halloween movie.

Mr. Stark and Pepper take the love seat, and— with one last, longing gaze at the small spot in between them— Peter settles into a lump of blankets and pillows on the far end of the longer couch. He keeps a good distance between himself and his friends at the other end, but he can tell that there’s some awkward tension in the room as the movie starts to play.

He tries to ignore it, but Aunt May keeps giving him a look from her seat on a nearby chair.

“What?” he hisses at her, pouting a bit when she smirks.

May points at the loveseat and whispers, “You should sit with them. I know you wanna.”

“Stop!” Peter shakes his head in denial, “I’m not going to—”

“Hey, pup!” Mr. Stark calls from across the room, and Peter flushes. He knows the nickname is aimed at him.

Peter pulls the blankets up around his face, “Yes, Mama?”

There’s a snort from the MJ-Ned-shaped-lump, but it’s ignored. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts exchange a few hushed words before motioning for him to join them, “Come on over, Peter,” Pepper says with a confident smile, “plenty of room to join us.”

He’s up and out of the seat before he even processes moving.

At different points in his life, Peter has imagined how it might feel to curl up, safe and warm, between his parents. Never, in a million years, did he think he would get to experience that.

But the space between Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts feels like home. Scents like home. It’s sweet and warm in a way Aunt May’s Beta scent has never been. Peter has never scented Ms. Potts up close, but he’s not surprised when her scent has him immediately relaxing, melting back into the couch cushions.

The only Alpha he’s ever been close to is MJ, and her scent is terrifying .

Pepper lifts her arm and gives him a small smile, “You comfortable, Peter?”

Words won’t come, his senses are on overload. He feels a hand on his shoulder as Mr. Stark moves him, turning him bodily to lay across their laps with his feet in Pepper’s lap, head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder.

“Just relax, bambino,” Mr. Stark whispers, scratching at the baby hairs behind Peter’s ear, “we’ve got you.”

He lets his eyes close slowly. Both of them are scent-marking him subtly— squeezing his arms and legs, kissing his hair, and laying a blanket over him sometime later. The movie passes by completely unnoticed, and Peter dozes comfortably.

Why can’t every night be like tonight?

As the thrill of the night is fading away, Peter hears Mr. Stark offer his friends a ride back to the city. The two of them are fading as well, and it doesn’t take much convincing to get them out the door and into a waiting car.

May kisses him on the head before she leaves, “Sure you don’t want me to stay, Pete?”

“M’sure,” he murmurs, blinking up at her lazily, “you have work in the morning, right?”

“Yeah, champ. I do. You okay staying the night here, or do you want to head back with me?”

Peter looks back at Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts with a hopeful smile. Both of them laugh, and Mr. Stark waves his hand dismissively, “You know you’re always wanted here, Pete.”

“By both of us,” Pepper adds, squeezing his leg where her hand is resting.

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint,” May chuckles. She leans in for another kiss and Mr. Stark gets up to walk her out, leaving Peter and Pepper together on the couch.

He looks up at her. Everything about Pepper screams an intimidating mix of composure and warmth. Now that Mr. Stark is gone, he can separate their scents— and something about her distinct Alpha scent has him ducking his head, shy and submissive.

There’s a light touch on his arm, “Don’t hide from me, Peter,” her grin is soft and reassuring, “if you feel uncomfortable with me like this, you don’t have to stay— you know that, right?”

Her eyes are kind and not at all judgemental. He believes her doubtlessly.

“We haven’t spent much time together, have we?” Peter asks, hesitantly.

Pepper shakes her head, strawberry hair sweeping gracefully over her shoulder, “No, I don’t think so. Tony does come home smelling of you often, though.”

“Oh!” Peter sniffs his shirt, grimacing, “sorry about that, he helps me…”

“No, don’t worry, Peter,” she places a hand on his shoulder again, “I just meant that I’m familiar with your scent already. Tony even puts some of your items in our nest— I know he wants me to get used to our scents together.”

“Why… why would he do that?”

“Oh, Peter,” Pepper sighs. She shakes her head and leans back against the cushions, “we’re gone on you Peter. We really want to adopt you… at least informally.”

“She’s right.”

Mr. Stark’s voice is loud in the living room as he makes his way back to the couch. With a little bit of maneuvering, Peter is stuck in between them again, and this time he’s resting against Pepper’s chest. Her arms easily settle next to him on the sofa, aware of his space and cautious not to close him in.

“We have a secret plot to adopt and steal you away, kid,” Mr. Stark smirks and kicks his legs up, sipping on a drink as they settle together. “I just needed to get proper approval beforehand, you know?”

Peter hums, and he knows his own scent has gone sweet in satisfaction. The thought of being adopted— having a mom and dad, Alpha and Omega— is overwhelming.

“You promise?” Peter whispers. Part of him is scared of the possible rejection, even though he knows Mr. Stark rarely lies to him.

“Of course, bambino— whatever you want.”

As they cuddle together on the couch, trading hushed stories and sweet laughter, Peter has a thought.

It’s not the most responsible thought he’s ever had. If Mr. Stark digs too deep, he’ll chalk it up to being a teenager, being emotional, being an Omega.

“Mama?” Peter stares up at Mr. Stark with his best puppy-dog expression, and pouts his bottom lip, “Can I ask a favor?”

“I’m suspicious already, but sure— what is it?”

Pepper chuckles behind him, and Peter reaches down to hold her hand for comfort, “Can you get my letters to Steve?”

With a loud cough, Mr. Stark chokes on his drink and sputters. His hands fly up and wave around frantically, possibly looking for something to anchor him. Peter curls further into the shield of Pepper’s body and lets her deal with the aftermath— patting Mr. Stark’s back and criticizing him for being so dramatic.

“In what—“ Mr. Stark starts, coughing hard, “In what universe would that be a good idea, Peter?”

“I... I didn’t...”

“Actually,” Pepper interrupts, interlacing their fingers together, “I think that might be a good idea.”

Mr. Stark looks betrayed, affronted. Peter turns to smile up at her, “Really? You think so?”

“Once your hormones are stable, why not?” Pepper asks, kicking at Mr. Stark when her Omega makes a disappointed face, “It might be helpful for your Alpha to hear from you.”

“Get his head on straight,” Mr. Stark grumbles. His hands are clenched, and he refuses to look at them.

There’s a beat of silence where Peter just stares at Mr. Stark, hoping for an answer. He knows it’s a big favor to ask— but if anyone can get it done, he knows Tony Stark can.

“Fine.”

---

Hi Steven Grant Rogers, God. Would you make me take your name? I really hate that. Maybe I’ll ask you to take my name instead. Mr. Stark said I could send you one letter every month, and that if you respond, I can have that letter back. I hope you respond. Uh... I’m not sure what else to say. My name is Peter and I’m in high school. I know that makes things hard for you, being old as dirt, but I hope when we meet that it won’t be too awkward. I hope you stay safe. I’m finally on suppressants and doing better than I was before. Your words on my arm barely hurt anymore. Okay. That’s all for now. Yours, Peter Benjamin Parker Oh! PS I’ve sent a little sample of what I scent like. Mama said that you would like that.

Tag list (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @purplefreakwolffish @instantsharkskeletonpizza @justslightlycrazy @angelstarker @femmeparker @starkeraddictbaby @starkentrprises @snowstark @sarcastich

[stevie-wicks]

red, black and blue

She’d taken the photo in some empty parking lot in downtown LA, sunlight two years younger glinting off the hood of the Camaro. Billy’s moustache was still a couple of stray gold whiskers on his upper lip; his hair just past the tips of his unpierced ears. A different Billy to the one Hawkins had seen, but post-California Billy hadn’t had much time for Max’s amateur attempts at photography. Or for Max, in general.

“It’s a good photo.”

Jonathan Byers was not a formal wear kind of guy. He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his ugly suit- or maybe that was just an extension of how he was feeling. How they all were.

Max wrapped her hands around her elbows, suddenly regretting resisting her mother’s attempts to usher her into a jacket. “Thanks. I know he looks- different.”

Jonathan looked for a moment like he might offer her his ugly coat; then he probably remembered the uglier shirt he wore underneath. “He looks happier.”

“He was.” Max dug her nails into her skin. “He hated it here.”

Jonathan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Listen, Max; I know it’s not- it’s not really the same, but when I- when I thought Will was gone, I-” He swallowed. “Will is my best friend. I know that sounds really lame, but I just thought that. Maybe you’d feel better, or, I dunno. I know what it’s like.”

He was trying so hard. Max almost felt bad for him. “I don’t think you do.”

She’d wanted to sit next to Lucas, but her mom hadn’t. Some murmured nonsense about Neil not liking it; some louder nonsense about how they were a family and that now, more than ever, they had to stay together.

El became the compromise.

Not that Neil was gung-ho about El, either; not with the oversized flannel and suspenders she’d refused to change out of. Light blue eyes bore a hole into the side of Max’s head as she shuffled into the pew next to El. They weren’t the same shade of blue as Billy’s; he’d had more green to his, more like Max’s own. Neil’s were like ice chips.

A bony hand reached over, and Max looked up at Joyce Byers’s warm brown instead. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she whispered.

Stupidly, Max said, “He owed you a plate.”

El stirred. “I owe him my life,” she said quietly.

The last funeral Max had been to had been for some distant Mayfield relative. She’d been six and she’d cried all the way to Glendale because she was missing Jabberjaw. Then Dad bought her an ice cream and she’d forgotten all about Jabberjaw. She fell asleep halfway through the service, and they got home in time for Speed Buggy.

Billy’s service took half as long and felt an eternity longer.

Mom had offered to do a eulogy. She’d brought it up over breakfast, nervous eyes darting between Max and Neil, as if either of them would put up a fight. She tottered to her feet now, shuffling awkwardly to the front, in a dress a few laundry cycles short of being grey. For a fleeting moment, Max wished she had put up a fight. Billy would’ve died-

Max bit her cheek hard enough to taste copper.

Mom cleared her throat. “Billy and I didn’t know each other for very long, but I wish we had. He was a wonderful young man.” She dabbed at her eyes with a ratty handkerchief.

Max sank back into her seat. Maybe it was for the best; she could never lie about Billy the way her mom did. Not when all she could think of was the blood- God, so much blood, his blood- his last scream torn out of his chest by misshapen claws- apologies on a dying breath-

She stood up. Mom paused midway between some crap about Billy’s ‘respect and responsibility’.

“Maxine,” Mom said, mortified.

“I have to go.” She tore outside, knuckling her burning eyes.

The breeze nipped at her skin. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her hands up her arms. It was mid-July, for Pete’s sake.

She should’ve worn the stupid jacket.

She wiped at her face roughly. When her vision cleared, Lucas stood in front of her.

“Your mom’s done talking, if you wanna head back inside.” He kicked at a pebble.

Max kicked it back. It skittered away, just out of Lucas’s reach. “Not really.”

He squared his shoulders. “Mind if I join you, then?”

She shrugged. He hesitated for a moment before sidling up next to her, arms barely brushing.

“Steve’s giving his speech now.”

Max’s eyebrows reached her scalp.

“For the basketball team,” Lucas clarified, then added, a little awkwardly, “None of the other guys showed up.”

It shouldn’t hurt, but. “Yeah, well. Didn’t think Steve would, either. He hated Billy’s guts.” She dug her heels into the gravel. “You all did.”

Lucas fell quiet. “I didn’t hate him.”

Max snorted. “’Cause you’re not supposed to hold grudges over people who are-” She blinked back a fresh wave of tears. God, Maxine; you’re such a goddamn girl, Billy would’ve said. “You should. He was awful to you.”

“I didn’t hate him,” he repeated. “I mean, he scared the shit out of me, sure. But still. He was your brother.”

“That’s not an excuse. And he was my step-”

“He was your brother.” Lucas had turned on his side, fully facing her now. “And I know you lo- cared about him. And I’m trying to tell you that it’s okay to cry.”

Her eyes welled with tears. She hadn’t allowed herself to; not since Starcourt, not since she’d read the twenty-eight other names in the paper, not since she’d come home in an ambulance and her brother in a casket and Neil locked up Billy’s room and tore down everything else that had belonged to his son and threw it all in the trash like he’d been waiting to get rid of it-

Lucas held out an arm. Max buried her face in his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt and turning it translucent with her tears.

She cried long enough for her tear ducts to run dry, and then stood sniffling into the wet shirt. She was probably making it all gross with her snot, but she didn’t let herself get too torn up about it. The Sinclairs could afford a washing machine.

“Maxine.”

Max went rigid. Lucas, unbothered and oblivious, kept his arms around her. “Hey, Mr. Hargrove.”

She turned around slowly, just in time to catch the flicker of revulsion that passed over Neil’s face. “And who are you, boy?”

There was a painful pause. Max’s nails carved crescents into her palms.

“Lucas Sinclair, sir,” Lucas said at last.

Neil’s eyes were glacial. Max barely suppressed a shiver when they trained on her. “Maxine; something you learn when you grow older that there are a certain type of people in this world that you stay away from. And this boy?” Neil cut his gaze to Lucas. “This boy is one of them.”

Max reeled back. “I-”

“You stay away from my daughter, Sinclair; do you hear me?” Neil hadn’t raised his voice once since he’d started speaking. To any passers-by, this would look like a normal conversation. “Stay away.”

He didn’t wait for Lucas to respond, tugging Max away with a harsh grip on her wrist. She didn’t dare to turn around.

“I don’t want you anywhere near that boy, Maxine.” His hold loosened the closer they got to the car- Neil’s car, a respectable Ford sedan. She didn’t dare tug her hand free, either. “I hope you learn your lesson with this. Billy didn’t; not at first. I’m afraid I had to use more- forceful- methods with him. I trust I won’t have to do the same with you.”

Max turned to Neil despite herself. It was the first time he’d said Billy’s name since the Fourth of July.

His eyes gave nothing away. “Do I make myself clear?” His fingers tightened again.

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good.” Neil’s smile was a mirror of Billy’s; shark-like and vicious, moments away from tearing into your throat. “It’s about time you got some new friends, too. Girls your age shouldn’t be hanging around with boys too much.”

“El’s a girl,” Max told her shoes.

Neil scoffed. “Really? Did she show you proof?”

What happened to you, Mad Max? Billy would’ve asked. You’re not going to stand up for your little hick friends?

Or maybe-

I had to use more forceful methods with him - the bruises she’d see on Billy while his own knuckles remained unscathed- Mom whisking her away on impromptu shopping trips whenever Neil and Billy raised their voices- forceful methods -

- maybe he would understand.

★

Billy’s life couldn’t have fit into a garbage bag.

Max hadn’t gone into his room since she’d gone with El, but he had to have more than what Neil had thrown out onto the sidewalk. Outside the four walls of his room, it was like Billy hadn’t even existed.

She slipped out of bed in the quiet.

Billy had taught her how to pick a lock, back in California. “Use a hairpin, or somethin’- you got one of those?”

She unfurled her fingers. The hairpin was damp with sweat. She wiped it on her t-shirt, and slid it into the keyhole.

“Keep your big ears close to the door; you won’t hear squat that far away.”

She held her breath, pressing her ear to the cool wood.

“Wait for the sound- there, you hear that? That’s how you know the tumblers are in place.”

The door swung open with a soft click.

Max half expected to be assaulted by cigarette smoke and hair metal. But it had been almost a week, and all that Billy had left behind were stale air and silence.

She flicked on the flashlight. The blinds were drawn, the bed unmade, half his closet on the floor. Air the room out, and you could pretend he’d walk right in.

His schoolbooks balanced an ashtray; the desk was not for studying. Instead, he’d cluttered it with beer cans and tapes and a tree’s worth of loose-leaf.

She padded over and sat down in his chair, trying to imagine him hunched over the desk, scribbling on page after page in messy letters. Billy’s handwriting was just as angry as he was.

Her eyes flickered over song lyrics- snippets from the racket she’d been forced to sit through every weekday morning and afternoon. Somehow, silent car rides had lost their appeal.

Strange little doodles decorated the margins- band logos and cars and anatomically inaccurate depictions of women. “Gross,” Max said aloud, pushing the papers away with a theatric shudder.

The tabletop had not been exempted from Billy’s artistry; Max shone the flashlight on more band logos and cuss words and names engraved into the wood. Here there was a crude AC/DC logo, the lightning slash extending down to form the ‘t’ in ‘TWAT’. There was a ‘María’ right next to that, the accent mark angled in the wrong direction. Max remembered her; she’d gone out with Billy for all of sophomore year- the longest Max had ever seen him go out with one girl. She’d taught Max how to do makeup.

A few paces away was Tina- the prettiest girl in Hawkins High, everyone agreed- Laurie was a slut, but she’d complimented Max on her hair- and then Karen. Max traced the ‘K’; she didn’t know any Karens who went to Hawkins High- but then again, she barely knew all the kids in the middle school. There could be a pretty blonde cheerleader somewhere, talking to her friends over the phone. “Yeah, I went out with him a couple of times,” Max imagined her saying. She’d twirl a strand of hair around her finger, lips pulled down in a pout. “And now he’s dead. Spooky.”

She knuckled her eyes. The beam of the flashlight caught on the letter S.

She held the flashlight up, frowning at the name that made itself obvious. Stevie- except the ‘i’ was jammed haphazardly between the ‘v’ and the ‘e’, like it had been an afterthought.

She stared at it until the light flickered overhead.

“Shit!”

Max dropped the flashlight, head snapping back to the door. It hung ajar, just as she’d left it. Heart in her throat, she inched towards the doorway.

The hallway light flicked on.

Max held the flashlight close to her chest, knuckles bone-white and stark. She stepped outside, and the light turned on in the living room.

When she stood in the doorway, staring out at the lifeless room, the telephone started to ring.

Her feet felt heavy as cinderblocks. She plucked the receiver from its cradle, bringing it to her ear with shaking hands.

From the other side, someone breathed heavily.

Max pressed the phone closer, hard enough to hurt. “Billy?”

A crackle of static. Some peculiar noise.

Apologies on a dying breath.

Then, “Max.”

ao3

[raysofcrosby]

28 & 42 with matty please 🥺

28. “how drunk was i?” + 42. “stop being so cute” w/ matty tkachuk

“Could you please drive slower,” you groaned, pressing your head against the cold window. “Or at least try and not hit curbs. It’s a miracle the state of Missouri granted you a drivers license.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to do a shots contest with Sam,” Matt laughed, reaching out the bottle of pedialyte to you and nudging you with the end of it.

“I was defending your honor,” you mumbled, grabbing the bottle from him and opening it, closing your eyes as you took a sip.

“My honor didn’t need defending, thank you. Besides, that’s his big party trick.” Matt took the bottle back from you and put it down in the cup holder. “Go after the newbie, challenge whoever they came with to a shots contest, add in a wager and boom, hook line and sinker. Newbie gets wasted and Sam gets richer.”

“You could’ve warned me,” you sighed, shutting your eyes tight to hopefully relieve the slight headache.

“I did and totally got shit for it by the way because it’s a huge party foul,” he laughed. “But you were already buzzed from pre-gaming and brushed me off. ‘Don’t worry, Matty. I’ve got this,’ I believe is what you said.”

“Well now I don’t want to go to this team barbecue,” you said, sitting up and turning towards him with a pout on your face. “I probably made a fool of myself and they all think that I’m stupid or easy or something.”

“Nah,” he replied, shaking his head as he came to a stop outside of a beautiful two-story craftsman style home. “It’s his thing, think of it as an initiation of sorts. Besides, no one else takes it up because they know he holds his alcohol like a camel holds water. Everyone’s been in your shoes before.”

“Whatever you say,” you sighed, taking off your seatbelt and getting out of the car. “At least I didn’t make a fool of myself then.”

“Well,” he sang, nodding his head from side to side. “I wouldn’t say that you didn’t necessarily...do that.”

You stared at him, holding onto the plate of cookies the two of you made earlier this morning as he walked beside you. “What do you mean, necessarily?”

“Come on, we’re running late.” He said, nudging your lower back as the two of you walked towards the front door of the Giordano’s home.

“You tell me right now Matthew Tkachuk,” you demanded, standing on the front porch as he rang the doorbell. “Tell me right now or I’ll call–”

“Matt, Y/N,” Gio smiled, looking relaxed in board shorts and a tank top. “Come on in, everyone’s out back.”

“Thanks, man.” Matt smiled, greeting Gio with a broshake before leading you through the house, raising an eyebrow at you as he smirked, knowing damn well he got out of your threat.

You’d known Matt and his family since forever, really. They moved across the street when Keith had gotten traded to the St. Louis Blues and your Mom was thrilled that there were two kids your age  moving right across the street, practically giving you instant friends. Matt was a year older than you, Brady a year younger which was perfect. And an instant friendship is what it was. You grew close with the two Tkachuk brothers and Taryn too once she came along.

Family summer barbecues, invites to the Tkachuk’s lake house, carpooling throughout elementary school, movie nights on the weekends when there weren’t hockey games, watching Keith play from the family box, teaming up with Brady against Matt in any pick-up game and when Matt went to Charminade instead of the public middle school like you did, he was at the receiving end of the chirping lessons and notes you’d picked up from Brady and Keith.

It sucked when he decided to go off and join the USHL sophomore year of high school, ending up all the way in Michigan at the USNTDP for the remainder of your high school careers, but that just made the summers all that better. The two of you would spend the three months catching up on the others’ lives– friendships, drama, hockey, relationships– and then he’d go off again for another nine months and come back and you’d do it all again. And that never changed once he went off to the OHL. Besides his family, you were the first person he told about choosing to go for the draft and were even invited alongside the Tkachuk clan, sitting beside Brady when you heard his name called as the sixth overall pick. And sitting next to Matthew two years later when Brady got drafted fourth overall.

He went off to Calgary and you went to Mizzou, the two of you staying in touch over text messages, facetime calls, an occasional email when he felt like being a pest cause you didn’t respond to his text right away. And when the summer rolled around, you both returned back to your hometown and picked up right where you left off, like nothing had changed and nothing skipped a beat.

Until this past summer, when something did change.

••••

A late night in the Tkachuk’s driveway on Matt and Brady’s last night before they’d go back off to their respective training camps. Your two roommates from college had decided to fly in early from their respective states so the three of you could all arrive at school together that weekend. Matt and Brady had invited some of their high school friends over too, the group just sitting around a portable fire pit as you all mingled and laughed, sipping on the mixed drinks you guys had been making all night.

Which is exactly what led the group of twenty somethings to play what started out as a game of never have I ever but eventually turned into most likely to. By the time you all were in at least a couple of rounds, the mood was light and everyone was laughing.

“Most likely to…” Callie, your roommate, smiled as she looked around the circle. “Get a ‘special’ piercing.”

“Special piercing?” Brady asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Like on your dick, dude,” Max, one of Matt’s friends chimed in, looking at Callie. “Or for girls, nipple piercings or…” his eyes dwindled down, the sexual tension between them had been high all night and no one could stand it.

“God, please just get a room and thump it out already,” Tori, your other roommate replied, rolling her eyes as she pointed at Callie. “My votes for her.”

“Same,” you smiled, pointing at Callie.

“You guys are cheaters! You were there with me!” She groaned, shaking her head as the four boys followed suit and pointed at her, making her the one who had to drink.

“Shouldn’t have asked such a dumb question then.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulders.

“Fine, Tori?” She leaned over to tori and whispered, the two of them looking at you with smiles.

“Okay, most likely to..” Tori’s gaze settled on you as she raised her cup. “Fall in love with their best friend?”

Immediately, you felt your cheats get hot as you watched the two of them point at you. It only got worse when you saw both Max and Trevor pointing at Matt, who looked just as embarrassed.

Brady laughed, resting his cup between his legs as he used both hands to point at the two of you. “I love this game.”

“Oh fuck off, all of you,” You said, flipping them off as you and Matt both took sips of your drinks, not even daring to look at the other.

“No, no, I think I’d love to explore this one,” Trevor smiled, nodding at Matt. “Clearly since both friend groups and Brady voted for the both of you, there’s gotta be something there.”

“Or you’re all just a bunch of drunk assholes,” Matt replied, shaking his head. “Just because I’m a guy and she’s a girl, doesn’t mean we can’t be platonic best friends.”

“There’s nothing platonic about the sex eyes you guys give each other when the other isn’t looking, Matt.” Max laughed, patting his shoulder.

“I suggest a new game,” Tori smiled, raising her hand. “Seven minutes in heaven and the first two to go are Matt,” she pointed at Matt and then turned to you. “And Y/N. All in favor?”

Everyone raised their hands and you wanted to sink into your chair and disappear. “Maybe it’ll eas the sexual tension that’s been building since 9th grade.” Brady laughed, shoving Matt out of his chair.

“This is stupid,” you said, shaking your head as Trevor got up behind you and nudged you out of your chair, Tori grabbing both yours and Matt’s hands and dragging you over to the garage. “Come on–”

“Inside, seven minutes,” She smiled, nodding at Matt to enter the garage code.

He rolled his eyes and did as she said, the door slowly opening to reveal Matt’s old dodge sedan he got for his 16th birthday. “Let me guess, lights on so you guys can creep in through the windows and get off?”

“Oh no, lights off,” Tori smiled, nudging you both into the garage. “It’s not our business what the two of you get up to. But trust me, I’ve seen Y/N come back from plenty of make-out sessions and shes easy to read, so I’ll know if the two of you are lying.”

She pressed the code Matt had done and waved as the door closed between you, leaving you and Matt in the dark. He sighed and pulled out his phone, turning of the flashlight as you stood there. “We don’t have to do this, Y/N.”

“She wasn’t lying when she said she’ll know, Matt.” You sighed, shaking your head. “She’s like a freaking psychic or something I don’t know.”

He laughed, nudging you to the car. “Well, we can at least sit in the car instead of standing by the door. Cobwebs, you know?”

You agreed and the two of you walked towards his car, Matt opening the door and getting inside. “The fact that you don’t lock your car in the garage is concerning,” you laughed, closing the door behind you as he did the same.

“It’s a safe neighborhood.” He replied, shrugging. “So...that was interesting...the game.”

“Or our friends are assholes,” you laughed.

“That too.”

It’s not like you’d never wanted to kiss him before, because you had. For the entirety of junior high, you’d dreamt of Matt being your first kiss, but that went to Trevor during a game of truth or dare at his own 13th birthday party. Besides that crushing defeat, Matt never showed any interest in you like that. You never caught his gaze lingering on yours or him taking a double look at you when you were even in your hottest bathing suit at the lake. As much as you hated it, to him it was like you were one of the guys. Which is why it was even more embarrassing that Trevor and Max had claimed Matt was most likely to fall in love with his best friend.

Because that was you and you were more than sure he still pictured you in your tomboy phase.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” you sighed, resting your head back. “They’ll bring it up at every party, watch.”

“Why? Because we didn’t wildly make out in the garage?” He laughed, looking over at you only to see that you weren’t laughing. “Oh shit, you’re serious.”

“Dead serious.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders. “Oh well it’s senior year, I can take it.”

“What if you don’t have to?” He asked, shrugging. “I’ll kiss you if it means you won’t get tormented.”

“Wow, maybe don’t act like kissing me is such an inconvenience, Matty,” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“You’re dramatic.”

“You’re mean.”

“How am I mean?” He laughed, leaning onto the center console.

“Because you made it sound like kissing me was a chore!” You huffed, rolling your eyes again. “Which, by the way it isn’t because I am a great–”

His mouth was on yours before you could finish your sentence. The moment you melted into the kiss, his hand came up and cupped the side of your face as you parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to brush against yours. And before you could even get your body to move over the center console, there was a knock on the garage door.

••••

You’d kissed quite a few people in your time at college and even before. Boys, girls, the few short term boyfriends you had– but nothing ever made your stomach twist into the knots that kissing Matt did. And since then, you hadn’t been able to get it out of your head...but your friendship stayed the same.

Spring Break, Matt asked if you wanted to come up and stay with him since Calgary weren’t on the road for the week you’d be there and you took him up on it. Finally excited to meet his teammates and friends he’d spent so much time telling you about and talking about. Part of you came under false pretenses, though. Sure, you wanted to spend time with Matt, but you also wanted to talk to him and ask him about that kiss...something you could never manage to do over the phone. But four days here and you hadn’t mustered up the courage to do so.

Which meant you only had three days left to do it or else you’d have to wait until the summer when he came home– which was pure torture.

“Well if it isn’t my girlfriend!” Sam smiled, standing at the edge of the pool with Jacob next to him.

“I’m sorry, what?” You laughed, placing the cookies down onto the food table as Matt walked beside you. “Please tell me he’s kidding.”

“I told you that you didn’t not totally act a fool,” Matt replied, rolling his eyes.

You looked at Sam and stomped over, poking his chest. “I want my $10 back. I know your party trick.”

“Sorry, babe.” Sam smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “A bets a bet. Which speaking of,” he looked over your shoulder where Matt was standing and then back at you. “We need to talk about last night.”

You looked towards Jacob, frowning. “Are you sure I’m not dating you instead?”

Jacob laughed. “Unfortunately, not.”

Sam rolled his eyes and held your hand, walking you away towards the Giordano’s back deck. “Okay, in all seriousness...are we playing it up today or not?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you shook your head. “Playing what up?”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “We were going to fake it today, being into each other to make Matt jealous so he’ll make a move.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You blinked at him in shock before laughing. “How drunk was I?”

“Drunk enough to where you told me how you’ve been in love with Matt since junior high and that the two of you kissed this summer and it was,” he cleared his throat, smiling at you. “The best damn kiss of my entire life, I swear it made me we–’”

You gasped, smacking his shoulder. “Stop, no I didn’t.”

“But you did, babe. So, I agreed to make Matt jealous, which shouldn’t be too hard because he doesn’t seem all that pleased that we’re standing over here talking.”

Sure enough, you looked over your shoulder to see Matt frowning as he talked to Jacob, his eyes moving away from you and Sam. You looked back at Sam, crossing your arms. “You don’t think I’m overthinking it?”

“Please, do you know how excited we all were when he told us you were spending the week with him?” Sam laughed, taking a sip from his cup. “Everyone knows he’s practically in love with you and we’ve all been waiting for him to make a move. So if this is what does it, I’m game.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You smiled, shaking his hand.

You and Sam spent the better half of the day together, laughing and getting to know each other. He was a pretty nice guy and you could understand why him and Matt were close. Matt stayed nearby the entire time and sometimes it was like he was eavesdropping on your conversations. Sam made sure to throw in some flirty banter during a fun game of volleyball in the pool and kanjam with Jacob and Elias.

But it wasn’t until you were playing with Gio’s daughter at one of the kids table where she was drawing you a picture. You were helping her pick out what glitter pens and markers to use when Matt came over, tapping you on the shoulder. “Can we talk?” He asked, looking at the pool.

You looked over to see Sam with Jacob, a smirk on his face as he sent you a knowing wink. You looked back at Matt and nodded. “Sure,” before turning back to Gio’s daughter and telling her you’d be back.

Matt walked ahead of you the entire time as he lead you towards where you and Sam had met up earlier, only this time he stopped around the side of the porch, leaning against it as he took a sip of his drink. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what?” You laughed, crossing your arms. “Sit with a little girl and help her draw a picture.”

“No, yes...ugh,” he groaned, leaning his head back. “Just...don’t do it, okay?”

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. “I don’t understand, Matt.”

“You with kids!” He huffed, motioning back to the pool. “It’s cute and you’re cute and damn it, Y/N, stop being so cute! It’s giving me thoughts of you with kids and you having kids and you can’t have kids with Sam, okay?” 

“Is this about me and Sam?” You laughed, pointing towards the pool. “Because it was all a show, Matt. Sam and I aren’t dating and we’re not anything, it was just a joke.”

“Oh,” he paused, his cheeks turning red. “Okay, that’s good.”

“It is?”

“Yeah,” he placed his cup on the edge of the porch behind him and reached out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. “Cause then he won’t be mad if I do this.”

His hands moved up to cup your face before he pressed his mouth to yours, the scruff scratching against your chin as you pushed yourself further into him, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your hands travel up his back. Before you could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and sighed. “I’ve been wanting to do that again ever since–”

“This summer,” you sighed, nodding your head. “Yeah, me too.”

You kissed him again, feeling him smile against your lips as his hands moved back and tangled themselves in your hair. Matt pulled back again, looking down beside you and raising his eyebrows. You looked down to see Gio’s daughter standing there, a smile on her face. “Sam told me to give this to you.”

She held up the piece of paper and once Matt took it, she ran off giggling. He looked at it and laughed, rolling his eyes before turning it around to face you. The glitter additions belonged to her, but the two kissing figures sitting in a tree...did not. Especially since Sam’s sloppy handwriting was tucked in the corner. The two of you looked back over at the pool to see Sam smiling at the art table, waving.

Matt rolled his eyes and looked back at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “Any way I can convince you to go on a date with me before you leave?”

“I think I can fit that into my schedule.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

CALI COAST.

Filip “Chibs” Telford x Reader

Anon asked: Hiya, love your writing!! I’d like to request a chibs Imagine about a him falling for a female mechanic at TM. Thank you 😊

Word Count: 3.6k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Driving the car crane, carrying a blue sedan that you were trying to seize for three days, but the owner was such a dickhead till he finally pissed you off and you had to point him with a gun. Tig told you to do it, even if you've never fired one. His face was worth the risk of being reprimanded by Hale. Danny claps at you, when getting off of the crane, you point your new acquisition with both hands and a huge smile on the corner of your lips.

“Tada!” You say with a melodic voice, jumping one time.

“Good job, rookie”. He says urging you to high-five, giving you the ‘seized’ sticker. 

Very proud of your work, you take it to stick it on the front glass, crossing your arms after it to admire your piece of art.

“Ok, let's pull down this big guy”. Danny palms your back, ready to drop the tow and park the car with the rest.

“Ya’, man, who's that lass?” Chibs steps slow down, some meters away from you, hitting Tig's chest with his palm, actually hurting him.

“What the fuck?!” He yells rubbing himself over the kutt.

“She's (Y/N), the new Teller-Morrow mechanic”. Happy comes from nowhere, scaring both men, with no gesture in his face. “She's like a Pop Tart. Sweet and crunchy”.

“Did you already fuck her?” Tig sighs staring at him.

“No”.

“Then, how 'you know she's crunchy?”

“She broke Juice's nose yesterday”.

The men break in laughter, now understanding why his face looks like shit.

“Wha' happened?” Chibs tries to talk, starting to cough because of the loud laughs.

“She just got scared, 'cause he was behind her in silence”. Happy turns at them, narrowing on of his shoulder, making a move with his head to follow him.

The SOA president has been out of Charming for two weeks, taking care of the gun's business at southern Cali. For you, he was just traveling. The guys talked about him a lot in his absence of the club and you were pretty excited to meet him. At least, he's also your boss. So, when Tig shouts your new nickname making you turn, you go immediately with the same smile on your face.

“What's'ap, boss?” You say placing your hands behind your back, covered by the green jumpsuit of the workshop.

“The president”. He says pushing the man into you, with a singsong voice, making the scottish clicks his tongue.

“Just Chibs”. He adds, offering you a hand in somewhat formal greeting.

“Finally!” You say excited narrowing it, actually feeling a little nervous. “I'm (Y/N), but they call me ‘rookie’”.

“Rooke'”?

“Yeah, like a prospect for the club”. You explain then, getting back your hand with the own other.

“And she likes whisky”. Happy puts a forearm on one of the president's shoulder, taking off the toothbrush of his lips. 

“Really? Ya' wan' one? So ya' can tell me where did ya' come from”. The man offers then, turning an arm to the club entrance, and you obviously can't say ‘no’ even if it's ten am and you just finished the first coffee of the day. You nod in silence. 

Tig and Happy continue their way to the workshop, whilst you're walking by the scottish side with the nerves running through your whole anatomy. Everybody knows the Sons of Anarchy, everybody knows what they do even if they didn't see it. You know you don't have to be afraid, nor scared, but you can't help feeling it anyway. In a gentle gesture, the president holds the door for you, smiling slightly coming in. The club is empty, not even music is being played and it's kinda strange. Maybe they prepared before this meeting, so no one could bother you. 

Even if you have been working for the last two weeks, if Filip decides to fire you 'cause you're not what he was looking for Teller-Morrow, he can do it without needing the support of anyone. You like your job and they pay you quite well, having a very flexible schedule, and treating you like another one of the family. So losing it, it's not an option.

You can see the man turning around towards the bar, grabbing two glasses to serve a whisky from an old bottle. You can recognize it. An special edition of Blue Label of Johnnie Walker. You have never tasted before, but you heard about it. Honey and vanilla are the first nuances you can taste having a sip. Chibs is staring at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an opinion. Snapping 

“It's sweet, but bitter because of the citrics”.

“Dammet', lass!” He yells excited, hitting the bar, provoking you a chill. “Its true ya' like wheske'”.

“Yea', I... do”. You nod with pursed lips, seeing him walk towards the sofa.

Sitting there, you doubt for a second carrying a chair next to him and leaving your drink on the table, looking around for a second expecting what he wants to know.

“So tel'me. Where 'ya from, where ya' worken'... All thes' thengs'”. Chibs finally says, placing his whisky above the table, leaning towards you with his forearm supported on his lap.

“I'm from Los Angeles, my father had a workshop too, so it's family business”. You explain yourself, not sure what more you can say about your life. “When he died thr—”.

“'Am sorre'bout that”. The president holds your right hand for a while, narrowing it.

“Yea', life's things, I guess”. His touch is firm, looking at both hands sideway, before continue. “Well, ah... It was three years ago. He left me the workshop, but I was alone and I couldn't do it without help, so I had to sell it. I was working with my uncle, till I decided to move on. And... a friend told me about yours and I said... Why not? So, here I am”.

“Hm...” Chibs nods thoughtful resting his back on the sofa, moving his gaze from one side to another in nowhere.

“Listen, ah... I know it took me three days to seize that sedan, and I have no excuses, but I really like this job. I mean, work here”. You look desperate licking your lips and gesticulating more than necessary, not trying to give pity, but asking for another chance.

“Relax, rooke', I'm not gonna keck'yar ass”. His loud laughter, shaking his chin, infects you chuckling. Not sure if because you want, or because you're doing it to please him. “The bike in the backyard, is yars'?”

“It was my father's. He used to run Cali with it, till he couldn't do it anymore. But it's not working. I have to fix it”.

“You wan'me to help ye'?”

The question takes you by surprise, twisting your neck as a dog would do when he's confused. Until now, you have been doing it by yourself, even though you can take her to a workshop and not worry about it. But someone offering himself to help you it's something new. Not actually ‘someone’, but the Sons of Anarchy president. And your boss.

“Yes, yes... I mean, sure. If you have time”.

“Aye! 'Course, lass. Wha' ya' have is a fuckin' gem! Wha'bout tonigh'?”

You don't say anything, but it sounds like a date. And it doesn't surprised you by the way he had to greeting you, when you two met minutes ago. His fingers were a little shaky and you can swear that even his hand was somewhat sweaty. Finally, you nod before he could start to think that you're kinda dumb, having a sip of your whiskey.

“Ya ken'? I had one simila' when I was younga'”. He comments, seeming like the man wants to continue your talk, but doesn't knows how to do it. “I toured Scotlan' whet'et'”.

“I've never been there, but I saw it in photographs. It's an amazing country”. 

“Aye! Et'e—

Some yells outside call your attention, and you recognize the voice by heart, 'cause you have been hearing it for the last three days. Rolling your eyes and getting up, down by the scottish's gaze following you, you walk towards the workshop with a serious gesture on your face and your arms crossed above your chest. The sedan' owner is there, with Hale by his side. You're fucked. 

“She was! She was!” The blonde man is pointing at you accusatory, seeing how the sheriff rubs his eyes. “That bitch pointed me with a gun!”

“Did you?” Hale asks you with a hand resting in the butt of his own gun, hanging from his belt, and the other hanging by a side of his body.

“No, sir. I did—”.

“You, fucking liar!” The man practically jumps to you, being blocked by the SOA president, hitting him straight to his face.

Everything goes so fast that you can't even react. But the scottish is putting you behind his body, after punch the sedan' owner, with a hand thrown back slightly touching your abdomen. Hale is handcuffing him, growling and cursing at you lying on the ground by the sheriff.

“If you say anything else, I'm gonna accuse you of obstruction, do you hear me?” The cop says putting him down, starting to walk next to the car so his co-worker can sit him inside the car. “Do you want to file a complaint?”

This time is coming back towards you, with a sigh on his lips rolling his eyes. You shake your head, hiding out from Chib's back, frowning at the blonde man.

“Don' worry, sir, it's ok”. You say then.

“Tel'im fi' me that he won't get his car back”.

And without saying anything else, he turns at you placing an arm on your shoulders to urge you start to walking back to the workshop.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

When your turn is already finish, you drive back home the enough time to have a shower and changing your clothes for something more comfy taking into account the plan you are going to have. You're also trying to not think that it's a date, even if it was like it sounded. And you can't help but feeling nervous parking by a side of the yard, frowning missed when you notice the fact that there's only a bike. So, your suspicions get confirmed. Actually it's not something that bothers you, after all you've heard about him. Loyalty, strength, sincerity, self-confidence, kind and polite. And an accent pretty funny. So, why not? 

“Wha' ya' thenken'?” Chibs comes from nowhere, scaring you and making you scream. 

The man starts to laugh loud, while your face becomes rude with pursed lips and a hand on your chest trying to calm your heart beat.

“Jesus Christ...”

“Dammet, rooke', it's true ya're ease' to scare!” You sigh rolling your eyes because of his words. “Com'ere, I've alrede' brought yar' bike”.

“DaMmEt, RoOkE”. You joke on him with a high-pitched tone, whilst he's laughing louder.

“Ya' amaze me, lassie. Dinnae' know you talk scottesh'”.

“What the...?” You find yourself laughing too in a relaxed way after a long time, shaking your head with a sigh, going to the workshop illuminated by some lights.

Turning over your steps you notice that the place is practically empty, guessing that Juice took off all the cars by Chibs' petition, playing fool when you find with your gaze two cardboard boxes from your favorite burger joint. Hiding your curiosity and moving your feet next to the old Harley Davidson, you let your fingers travel over the metallic handlebar. Memories crowd your head, one on top of the other, until you collapse. You still haven't driven it, because your father kept it for almost eight years on his garage, till he left. And it doesn't need a lot of fixes, but you haven't been able to get started before. You couldn't, 'cause it's the only thing you have of him.

“When was the... fers' time ya' ride't?”

Turning to the man, finding him supporting his back against the wall with a big cup of coke in his left hand, sipping from the straw. You shrugs your shoulders, taking the other drink to imitate him with your gaze on the matt black motorbike.

“I didn', yet. Alone, I mean... But by my father's back”. You say almost in a whisper. “I was five years old. We toured Cali coast”.

“Cali coast amaze me, et's a good ferst' ride”. He says then, after some seconds in silence. “Ded'ya by night?”

“Dawn, actually”. You answer with a goofy smile on your lips and your eyes on the drink between your hands, playing with the straw. “I... remember that... my father came to my room, to wake me up saying ‘let's go, bunny, adventure time’! He was very excited”.

It's the first time in years that you're talking about him and Chibs looks pretty curious about it, but you're trying not to break your voice. Smiling sideways, you stare at the scottish man, shrugging your shoulders again, not knowing how continue.

“Why ‘bunny’?”

“I like velocity”.

“Oh, realle'? Wha' bike ded'ya have before et'?”

Your cheeks turning red and your lips pursuing second by second, containing a laugh, makes him raises both eyebrows with curiosity.

“A Vespa...?” You mutters biting the straw, while Chibs laughs again. You're starting to love his laugh, no regrets. “Ah, ah, but...! I have a Mustang, so, boom!”

Your left hand imitates the typical gesture of dropping a mic, getting up from the wall to walk towards the food with innocent air, opening one of the bags with your forefinger and having a quickly look.

“Ya'hungre?” He asks then, following your steps to grab boths bags, twisting his neck in a soft gesture to tell you without words about to have a seat.

So you do, on one of the cair placed on the front yard, next to a corner.

“So, what et' needs?”

“Brakes. I need to change them. Now it has ones that are obsolete and I was thinking to put an ABS”. Leaving your drink between your feet, you take the burger Chibs is offering you to unwrap it on your lap.

“Sounds good. Do ya' have them?”

“Yea', I bought them in LA. And I think could be good change the tires, the oil and the handlebar grips, they're a little worn”.

“Tha's'ease fo' ya'”.

“Yeah, but... I didn't want to fix it, actually?”

“Why?”

“I'm scared to have an accident or something, and destroy it. I don' have anything of my father, but his bike”. Having a bite with your gaze on him, you cover your mouth to keep talking. “So, I just... was telling... myself that I didn't have time... to fix it”.

“But we're gonna do 'et!” Chibs exclaim excitedly, opening his arms for a second and holding the burger and the beer in each hand. “I know yar' father prefers to fac'ap his bike, than keep'et in a garage with dust on 'et”.

“Yea', I think so...”.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

First, knocks on your door. Then your bell ringing. Palming the mattress till you find your phone to watch the clock, you read all the notifications in the locked screen. There are almost eleven lost calls from Chibs and a lot of messages. And it in silence. You practically jump off of your bed, running as never before to the main door, opening it.

“Finally! Jesus Christ, I thought ya' were dead!” 

“What happened? It's everything ok? Sorry, I just fell asleep an—”. You're talking so fast that your tongue ends up making a mess.

Chibs enraptured looking at you from top to down with a goofy smile on his lips, very interested in the Black Sabbath' shirt you're wearing. Clearing his throat, while your gaze travels to the dark van parked in front of your house. Tig and Juice are taking off of it your motorbike. Pushing him away from you, with your left hand on his chest, you take some steps barefoot above the cesped. You're face shows surprise and confusion, believing for a while that you're dreaming or something like that. 

One of his hands wrap your left wrist, urging you to look at him. You're legs shaking for a second. 

“Ya're prette' with messy hair and tha' shirt, but I wanna ride with ya'”. He says then, trying to hide his excitement.

And you want to hide yours, but you can't. You hug him, but not with a normal one. You're rousing and thankful, surrounding his neck with yours arms leaning on your toes. You know he wasn't expecting by the “oh” he mutters kinda surprised, taking some seconds till he finally is able to wrap your back and your waist pushing you closer into him, resting his forehead on your shoulder. Then, Chibs understands why Happy said like you're like a Pop Tart. He knows it tooks you just one second to make him fall in love with you and that the fact of worrying about your favorite take away restaurant, it wasn't only 'cause you're ‘the rookie’. 

The scottish have a deep breathe from your hair, starting to wish he hadn't, because he's falling a little more. And he can't watch his mouth.

“Ya' smell really good”. He tells you with a husky tone on his voice that bristles the skin of your arms.

“Honey and vanilla”. You mutter with pursed lips, before the man making you a gesture to come in your house.

You nod in a hurry, running back to your room looking for the perfect clothes to drive. A comfy pair of jeans, a vaporous shirt, your boots and a leather jacket. Keeping your principal stuff in a bag and grabbing your helmet, you walk towards the main door sooner as you can. The van isn't there anymore but your bike and Chib's one, close to yours, are parked on the sidewalk. He's already waiting sitting on his, turning on the engine when you're wearing the black helmet before keep the bag under the seat, the scottish stares at you with a hug smile and a dearly gesture on his face.

It has been eight years since you heard your father's Harley roaring, and feeling how your body vibrates on it it's simply amazing. You can't even describe how you feel right now, looking at Chibs with that gesture mixing incredulity and surprise. Pressing the brake, but also the gas, the back wheel squeaks without caring if you wake up your neighbors. 

“Let's go, lass!” 

You release the brake, letting your motorbike rolls above the road with a hoarse growl flying off from the engine, being followed by the scottish. He didn't tell you where you're going, but after five days talking about your childhood in Cali, it's pretty clear that he wants to ride the coast with you after seeing the emotions that provokes you the memories doing it with your father. You know well he wants to be part of it, part of your routine and part of your life. And you're letting him come in 'cause, why not?

You know the road by heart, touring it with the fresh dawn's air hitting your face, till it turns with a salty smell after some hours driving in silence, enjoying the landscape views. You're closer to the ocean and you can feel it inside your lungs, closing your eyes for second. Time enough to make you fly back to your childhood. The sound of the engine, the seagull, the waves breaking. Everything is the same as you remember. But you're not a child anymore, you're ridding California with Filip Telford by your side, who can say that? Only you. And it's not because who he is, but because of who you want him to be for you.

It's sunrising. In the horizon, the sky is mixed with blue, orange and soft pink. It's your favorite part of the day, but now it's different. You're /living/ it, breathing it, enjoying it totally relaxed as never before, with Chibs' eyes on you for a ephemeral instant, fully spellbound. And that's what makes it special this time.

“Don'ya thenk' it's time fo' a coffee?” He asks loud enough for you to hear him. You nod laughing, 'cause you really need it after sleeping for just four hours.

Some mills away, you finally stop in a rest area on top of a small cliff. Taking off your helmet, you walk towards the wooden railings looking down. You're too close of the sea that almost some salty drops splash your face interspersed with the sea breeze. You couldn't get tired of a place like that. The smell of hot coffee pushes you into reality, turning to Chibs so you can hold the metallic mug.

“Maybe I put some Cardhu in'et”.

“Maybe?” You break in laugh, leaning your nose over it.

“When I say ‘maybe’, et's because I alrede' ded'et”.

“So... the other night, at the workshop, maybe it was a date?”

“Maybe”. He nods, blowing his drink, before taking a drink. “Maybe that's the second one”.

“Maybe you already won me, fixing my bike and bringing me here”. Giving him your most smooth smile, you drink too, turning to the ocean while he puts an arm on your shoulders letting you rest your cheek on his. “Maybe you put a lot of Cardhu”.

“Yea', maybe”. 

[mssleepy876b]

Family Ties Chapter 6

Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.

Word count: 2426

Warnings: domestic violence, PTSD possible

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 6

It had been over a year and Brie felt solid on her life and her path. She worked because she wanted to and felt her work in Intelligence was helping out the unit who had helped her back to her feet. She had started to take over more and more of the technology work from Adam and Kevin since she had a knack for it. She could figure out tech searches, etc. that they needed and found her skills meant she was faster than Ruzek or Atwater, so Hank had her trained more and more by CPD for technology support for Intelligence.

She was sitting at her desk in the bullpen when Trudy came up. She was carrying a floral display. It included her one-time favorite blue roses, but she didn’t have any guys in her life, so she figured it was for Kim, Hailey or Vanessa. They had quickly become her friends and had helped her build her confidence. She had cut & colored her hair, was wearing different clothes that made her confidence show, and her make-up had changed as well to enhance her features showing the outside changes to match the stronger person now underneath the surface thanks to the support of those around her.

It shocked Brie when Trudy placed the flower display on her desk pulling her again from the work in front of her. “Here. A delivery for you, Cinderella.” She said. Jay turned to see the flowers on Brie’s desk.

Brie stood looking confused and spoke, “Are you sure, Sergeant? Who would send flowers to me? It’s not my birthday so it’s not my parents.” The girls all smiled as Brie took the card from the display and Platt moved back downstairs. Her face paled as she read the card to herself. She reached behind her for her chair in order to sit. Brielle took a moment to gather her thoughts and she shocked the unit by dropping the flowers vase and all in the trash can next to her desk calling out. “Hell, no. How did he find me?” she said her voice angered and wavering as the sound of the vase breaking echoed her comments.

Jay and Hank quickly walked to her and she handed them the card. It was from Michael. Hank read it out loud, ‘You have had your year of fun, love. I will collect you soon from you little experiment at a life without me. And you will be back where you belong at my home and under my orders. See you soon, Brielle. Michael, your husband.’ Brie had walked from her desk and entered the break room leaving the Unit stunned.

Jay followed her once he read the card. “Are you okay, Brie?” he asked placing his hands on her shoulders.

She sighed as she placed one of her hands over his on her right shoulder. “I think so, Jay. I hate feeling scared again. It is like he keeps creeping in taking control of me again and I hate it. How can I stop him?” she said taking a breath and sounding determined.

“You know we all have your back, right?” he said to her as she turned to face him.

“I do, Jay. And I trust you all.” She said smiling up at him.

It took the unit less than 2 hours to track the flowers and how Michael purchased them. It caused Brie to get angrier and angrier thinking about the message. She finally threw down her pen and grabbed her coat running down the stairs to the front door. Hank spoke up, “Halstead, go calm her down. She needs to keep her head on straight while we look for him.”

Jay nodded and moved to follow her grabbing his own coat. He opened the gate to Intelligence only to hear Platt fussing at him. “What’s the deal, Chuckles? What crawled up her butt?”

“The flowers were from her ex.” He replied as he headed to the door as Trudy’s face darkened knowing the full story about Michael and Brielle.

“Check her car first. She is smarter than just heading off.” Platt shouted as he moved through the main doors of the district.

Jay didn’t have to go that far seeing her pace near a bench by the front door. “Talk to me, Brie.” He said moving closer slowly.

“I’m angry, Jay. The thought that he believed I would just give in, fall right back into a situation where he beat me and hit me, and I would just let it go and forgive him is ridiculous. It is as if he never saw me as a person at all. I hate that idea of that for anyone. I haven’t done everything I have this past year to fall back into that death trap. He will NEVER put his hands on me again.” She said venting to him as she motioned displaying her anger with her hands.

“Okay. That is a natural reaction. And you have done a lot of changing in the past year. Your confidence is a big piece that I have noticed. Atwater and Ruzek tell me that you have been swatting the guys away at Molly’s lately.” He said getting a small laugh from her. She took a breath and sat next to him on the bench. “Look until we know more, you have to be more careful. Running out of the building like this alone is not safe. Michael’s crew is still around you know that. They work for his uncle. They were absorbed back in. Michael coming out probably means they will be back with him. Until we get him off your back, stick close to us and don’t leave the building alone. You have learned from all of us this year. Use those skills we taught you, okay?” he said. She nodded and took in a deep breath sighing out loud. “Ready to head back in?” He asked. She nodded and stood as he smiled and led them back into the unit.

Two weeks later, Brie had to take a personal day to complete some personal tasks that had been left undone due to her focus on work in Intelligence. She smiled as Ruzek and Atwater texted her about how they missed her tech skills on a new case they had started today. She also smiled when Jay called to check on her during her lunch. She had a huge amount of respect for Jay but was cautious about letting any feelings grow for him. She had heard from Kim how he had been hurt several times by different people in his life. Brie knew she thought of Jay differently than the others, but she would never cross the line unless she knew how he felt. She valued their friendship too much to risk alienating him.

Brie left from her quiet lunch at the small café and started to feel disconcerted. She felt like she was being watched and it worried her. Her senses started to react to her intuition. She quickly spotted the car following her. She could tell that there were at least 2 men in the car. Her first thought was Michael sent them. She wasn’t close enough to go to the Precinct but noticed she was not far from Firehouse 51. Christopher Hermann and Kelly Severide were guys that she learned to trust from Molly’s, and she knew they would help her. She pulled into the parking lot and quickly walked to the door of the building closest to the lot. She entered and watched as the car parked across the street from the lot and waited. She started to get concerned and went to find Hermann or Severide. She ran into Captain Casey first literally almost knocking herself down. She blushed as he caught her to prevent her fall. “Oh, god. Captain Casey, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She said trying to control her emotions.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. But you look upset, Brielle, right? You work in Intelligence, with Detective Halstead, right?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I’m an administrative assistant as well as a tech assistant for the unit.” She said.

“What’s got you upset?” he asked her.

“I think I am being followed, Captain. I came here to get help.” She said. She pointed to the car. “I took a personal day to handle errands, etc. and that car has been following me since I left the café where I had lunch. It follows me everywhere.” She said.

He nodded and she noticed a stern look come over his face. “Come on. Let’s go call your Unit. They will not put up with this.” He said leading her to the Bullpen.

He led her to a desk near Chief Boden’s office and he let her sit while he let Chief Boden know what was going on. Boden stepped out and told Casey he would stay with Brie while Casey told the others at the house what was going on. Brie sat and pulled her cell from her pocket. She pulled Voight’s number from her cell and dialed it into the phone in front of her. She listened as the phone rang. He then spoke clearly. “Voight.”

She spoke clearly and quickly. “Uncle Hank? It’s Brie. I’m at Firehouse 51. I was out running errands after lunch and I saw a car following me. I can’t seem to lose it and it is sitting across the street from the parking lot at the station. I didn’t feel like I had enough time to come to the precinct. It is a navy four door sedan with tinted windows. I can tell there are two guys in the front seat, but I can’t see the back seat. I was concerned as I felt like I was being watched since I left my lunch stop.”

Hank spoke after listening to her. “You did good, Brie. Stay there at 51. We will come and get you, make sure you are safe. 51 will keep you safe until we get there. We’ll look into this.” He said hanging up the phone. He exited his office and called out across the unit. “Halstead, Upton, and Burgess. Go to Firehouse 51. Brie is there. Thinks she is being followed. Navy 4 door sedan parked across from the station’s parking lot. She is inside the house with Chief Boden and the 2nd shift.”

Jay stopped near the station and let Hailey and Kim handle the car while he continued on to see to Brie. He quickly parked his truck and recognized her car sitting in the lot next to Captain Casey’s truck. He walked quickly onto the apparatus floor finding the Squad table empty he entered the doors near the common room. Severide greeted him. “Jay.” Kelly said shaking his hand. “Your unit’s assistant is in the Bullpen with Boden and Casey.” He said leading the way.

Kelly heard Jay release a breath and spoke again. “Everything okay? You all seem protective over her.”

“Her abusive ex got out of jail last week. He started to harass her two weeks before that. He has ties to organized crime and can’t seem to take no or being ignored as an answer. He was controlling and told her in a note with flowers that he was going to get her back.” Jay said his face setting in anger. “She’s a good person, Severide. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s done a lot to help herself in the last 18 months. Voight has known her since she was a kid and used to work with her father who is retired CPD.”

“Enough said.” Kelly answered turning the corner to enter the Bullpen.

Jay let out another deep breath when he saw her sitting at a desk with Chief Boden standing nearby. He walked over to the Chief and shook his hand. “Chief Boden.” Jay said.

“Detective Halstead. Ms. Jacobs came here due to the vehicle she says appears to be following her this afternoon.” Chief Boden said.

“Understood, Chief. Detective Upton and Officer Burgess are across the street right now and handling the vehicle.” Jay said. He looked down and saw Brie watching him from a nearby desk. “How are you feeling, Brie?”

She replied quickly as he moved closer to her, “Better. I felt safer once I got inside here. I promised I would keep the Unit alerted to anything unusual.” She said.

“Good job. You used the skills you have learned to protect yourself. We’ll find out soon if Michael is involved.” He said placing a hand on her shoulder.

His radio began to sound causing him to move his hand to turn up the sound. It was Hailey’s voice calling in the license plate and alerting that she was approaching the vehicle with Kim. It took a few minutes before Hailey came back on the radio and said the vehicle was departing with a warning to stop tailing a CPD employee. Jay released another breath. He felt Brie slide her shaking hand into his and take a deep breath herself. Hailey and Kim quickly joined Jay, Brie and the others.

Hailey entered leading Kim, smiled at Jay and Brie before she spoke. “Driver and friend were paid $500 bucks to tail her for the afternoon. Approached through a registered PI and paid by the PI. Got his information so we can pay him a visit later.” She said.

“So, no solid connection to DiLeone yet?” Jay asked.

“Not yet.” Hailey said.

Jay turned to Brie who had pulled her hand back when Hailey arrived. “What do you want to do, Brie? Do you want us to help you get back to the Precinct or what?”

“I should probably head in. Sergeant Voight will want my statement as well needing to help Ruzek and Atwater with the technology searches.” She said standing and running her hands over her slacks. “How do we get my car from here if I ride back with you? I am not sure I could drive right now.” she asked.

“I’ll drive it to the district for you, Brie.” Kim offered.

Brie nodded accepting Kim’s offer. “Thank you for your help, Chief Boden. I’m sorry if I disrupted your house.” She said to him shaking his hand.

[rockynoadrian]

14 | No Choice | Old BMK

Chapter 14 of 43 of the original story.

Chris

I was sitting in my house bored as fuck. I cut back on how much time I spent in the tattoo shop after I started spending time with Cruz. So Ty was there watching over everything and I was home; bored.

I already called Kennedy. She had Cruz out running errands with her, and couldn’t come over for an hour. So I was gonna be bored until then.

Me: Can you make me lunch when you get here? Pleasee!

Kennedy: -_____-

Me: Fine. Will you bring me lunch, then?

Kennedy: yes, fatass. :)

I sucked my teeth and tossed my phone on the coffee table. I decided to take a shower to kill some time. I walked past the bay windows in my living room, and something caught my eye.

For the last couple of days, a black sedan had been parked up the street from my condo. When I drove past it, there wasn’t anyone inside. But today, I could see someone sitting in it. When he saw me looking at him, he put the car in drive and sped off.

I walked back to the table and picked up my phone, my nerves on edge.

Me: Never mind. Pick a restaurant. I’ll meet you there.

Kennedy: lol Chris I was joking. I’ll make you lunch.

Me: It’s all good. You just owe me later.. ;)

Kennedy: =O lol okay.

I didn’t want to panic, but something was differently off. I had a feeling I was being watched for the last couple of weeks. I thought I was just being paranoid, but I knew I wasn’t now.

I needed to figure out who the fuck it was. And until I did, I didn’t want Kennedy or Cruz over here. I didn’t want her to worry, but I knew I’d have to tell her soon.

I skipped the shower for now, so I could call Trey and Chase.

…….

“So, Mama said she’d watch Cruz tonight.” I shoved another handful of fries in my mouth before holding Cruz’s cup in front of him. After he took a few sips, I put the cup back on the table.

“Why? You can’t wait to have sex?” Kennedy smirked and bit into her second burger. I told Kennedy to pick a restaurant, and she settled with McDonald’s. Mostly for Cruz’s sake, and because she made appointments at Planned Parenthood.

“I don’t wanna wait.” I answered honestly, making Kennedy laugh. “But that’s not why. I need to ask you something.”

I reached for my cup, and ended up knocking Cruz’s cup onto the floor. “Fuck.” I muttered. I got up to refill his drink and felt Kennedy’s eyes on me the entire time.

“You alright?” She asked when I sat back down.

I nodded and she went back to wiping of Cruz’s face and hands. “You worried about the test?” She asked innocently.

“I’m good, Kenny.” I tried to make it sound believable. And she looked like she bought it. To be honest, I didn’t even care about the test anymore.

Trey had told me that he’d been seeing suspicious cars ever since we came back from St. Petersburg. I had a feeling it was that nigga Damien’s crew.

And if it was them niggas lurking, we had something for their asses. That was no problem. I just needed to wait for Chase’s call to confirm.

And to break it to Kennedy that this shit did go bad.

…….

Kennedy

“So can we have sex tonight?” Chris asked. We were sitting in a little exam room of Planned Parenthood. I could feel my face getting red as the doctor chuckled softly at us.

“Yes. Well, if she’ll let you.” Dr. McCormmick laughed. “She looks pretty embarrassed.”

“Oh, she’ll let me.” Chris stated. I smacked his chest and he just shrugged his shoulders.

Dr. McCormmick rolled his chair over to Chris’ side, “You two are good to go. Everything looks clear for you, Chris.” He turned his attention to me, “And your shot is effective immediately.”

I nodded and stood up. Chris shook the doctor’s hand and we walked out of the clinic. Chris linked his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him as we walked to his car.

He seemed a lot less stressed now that the test was out of the way, but he still seemed a little distracted. Chris opened the passenger side door of his Bentley, and helped me inside before shutting the door.

“You sure you’re okay?” I rubbed the side of Chris’ cheek with my thumb. He nodded and looked like he was going to say something, but his phone ringing cut him off.

I sat back against the seat, listening to half of Chris’ conversation. I could tell the other voice was Chase. He sounded stressed and pissed all at the same time.

Chris suddenly glanced at me, “I’m with Kenny..let me drop her off. I’ll be there. Call Trey.”

Chris ended the call and cleared his throat. When he came to a stop at a red light, he turned his body towards mine.

“I gotta meet up with Chase and Trey. Only for like 2-3 hours. Tops.” Chris stated.

I instantly got anxious, “What is going on, Chris?” The light turned green, and he shifted his attention back to the road.

“I honestly don’t know, right now.” He grabbed my hand in my lap, and laced his fingers through mine. “But when I find out, I’ll tell you. Promise.”

I nodded and squeezed his hand, “Remember, you promised you wouldn’t leave for any jobs. And we have Cruz now..”

“I’m not leaving, Kenny.” Chris chuckled. “I promise.” I sat back and relaxed a little bit.

“What are you smiling about?” Chris said, glancing at me.

I didn’t even notice I had started smiling. “Nothing. I just like when you call me Kenny.”

Chris smiled too, and pulled into my driveway. I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

“Hey..” Chris grabbed my arm, “Two hours.” He kissed me softly. “Promise.”

I nodded as I got out of the car and walked up to the door. Once Chris saw I had the door unlocked, he honked then sped down the street.

…….

Chris

“So, that’s why you’ve been sketchy, huh?” I walked into Kennedy’s house. I heard a male voice coming from the kitchen. At first I thought it was Liam, but I remembered I left Chase’s house before he did.

“I haven’t been sketchy. I really have been busy, lately.” Kennedy retorted. I followed the voices into the kitchen.

When I walked in, both of them stopped talking and looked at me. “You good, Kenny?” She was standing in front of the stove, glaring at Cameron. I leaned down to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip in between mine as she pulled away.

“I’m fine, Chris.” I could tell she was trying to fight the smile that was creeping up. “You remember Cameron, right.”

She pointed across the breakfast bar to Cam, whose face was hard. He looked me up and down, shaking his head. I licked my lips and stuck out my hand for him to shake.

He sucked his teeth and stood up, not even attempting to shake my hand. “So you leave me, to go back to the nigga that left you?”

“Aye. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I countered. When Kennedy first brought this nigga around, I didn’t like him. The guys thought it was just because he was hugged up on Kennedy, but I knew that wasn’t it.

Something about this nigga just didn’t sit right with me.

“Whatever, nigga.” Cam spat as he walked to the doorway. “I’ll show myself out. I’ll see you around though, Kennedy.”

And with that, he disappeared out of the kitchen. I could her Kennedy suck her teeth before she turned around, returning her attention to the stove.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked Kennedy again, stepping closer to her.

She sighed and nodded. “Why was He even over here?” I didn’t want to cone across mad, but I was a little bothered.

“I called him to end it, and he popped up mid phone conversation to change my mind I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders, adding more butter to a pan on the stove.

“You sure this is what you want?” I asked randomly, my voice was quiet as I waited for her to answer.

“What do you mean?” Kennedy’s back was still facing me as she watched the pork chops fry in the pan.

“Are you sure this is the choice you wanna make? Being with me.” I watched as she turned around, locking her eyes with mine.

“Chris,” she laughed. “I’ve never had a choice. It’s always been you.” She stepped closer to me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I hugged her close to me, her perfume filling my nose. “I just hope we have our shit together now. I don’t want to get hurt, Chris.” She took a step back, and her eyes returned to mine.

“I’m not going to do anything to fuck this up.” I laced my fingers together behind her back, pulling her close. “And if I mess up, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it.”

Kennedy nodded and smiled before standing on her toes to kiss me.

…….

“Dinner was great. As usual.” Liam stood up and put his and Kendall’s plate in the dishwasher.

“Yeah. Thanks, Kennedy.” Kendall walked over to the doorway of the kitchen. “We’re heading out. Liam has a drop to make.”

Liam walked over and dapped me, before turning to follow Kendall outside.

“I love how they stay ducked off, pop up at dinner time, then bounce again.” Kennedy joked as she wiped off the kitchen counters.

“She’s got that nigga sprung.” I mumbled before shoving my fork in my mouth. We both laughed as I wiped my mouth with a napkin.

Kennedy pointed at my empty plate, “You full?” She asked. I shook my head and she refilled my plate with pork chops, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

A few minutes later, Kendall and Liam walked back into the kitchen.

“Hey, Kenny. That car is back.” Kendall stated. Kennedy turned around and exchanged a look with her sister.

“Okay. I’m starting to get scared.” Kennedy mumbled. She immediately walked to my side and stayed close.

I stopped eating, “Wait? What’s going on?”

Kennedy put her hand on the back of my neck, “There’s been a car that’s been parked up the street.” She glanced at Kendall before she went on, “I noticed it a while ago.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked, the panic from this morning returning.

“I-I don’t know.” She stuttered. “I didn’t want to think we were being watched.”

I immediately pulled her into me. I knew I had to tell her what was going on.

“Kenny, remember when I went to St. Pete?” I half whispered.

Kennedy pulled away slowly and I stood up, “Yeah. Why, Chris?”

“Well Damien’s crew is planning something. They’ve been watching all of us.”

I heard Kendall gasp and Kennedy looked at me with fire in her eyes.

“Chris, what the fuck?!” She yelled. “You told me if shit went bad, you would tell me right away!”

“I didn’t find out it was them until today! I thought it was cops.” I yelled back. “I had no idea you were being watched. But we have a plan.”

Kennedy sucked her teeth, “No! You said you weren’t leaving!” I wrapped her in my arms just as her voice broke.

“Hey..shhh. Don’t cry, please.” I whispered. I could feel Kennedy’s chest heaving up and down as I held her.

“We have a good plan, Kennedy” Liam called out to us. “Chris doesn’t have to leave.”

“Do you have to go, Liam?” Kennedy asked, her voice muffled against my chest.

“I don’t have to. But it’ll work better if I do go with the crew.” Liam stated, his eyes on Kendall.

“Liam..” Kendall whispered, her voice caught in her throat.

“It’s still something that needs to be talked about.” Liam’s eyes never left Kendall’s. He walked up to her and grabbed her hand, walking out of the kitchen together.

I pushed Kennedy away from me slightly so she could look at me. I wiped her tears and sighed.

It was crazy how things between Kennedy and I had changed over the last couple of months. When she first came back, I made it my goal to make her cry and hurt. Now, it was killing me to see her upset.

“Kennedy, you can’t stay here anymore.” I finally uttered.

“What are you talking about, Chris?” Kennedy’s eyes searched mine, looking for answers.

“It’s not safe here anymore. Tomorrow. You’re bringing Cruz to my safe house, and you’re staying there.” I stated.

Kennedy shook her head, “No, Chris. This is where I live. With Kendall and Cruz.

"You don’t have a choice! You’re not staying here!” I shouted. “The house is big enough for Kendall to come too. But I think Liam wants her to stay close to him.”

“I’m just scared, Chris.” Kennedy’s voice shook, but she had stopped crying.

“You don’t have to be.” I picked her up and sat her down on the counter as she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t give me that look.” I laughed. “You know I got you.”

Kennedy nodded her head, “Yeah, I know.”

“Right.” I cupped her face in my hands. “So I need you to trust me now, Kenny. Nothing is going to happen to you or Cruz.”

She let out a big breath and pulled my body between her legs, closer to her. “I trust you, Chris.”

We both smiled and I pressed my lips to hers. She quickly deepened the kiss. And for a few seconds the both of us got lost in each other, forgetting our problems.

For just a little while.

More from The Black Market Kings Fanfiction

Next Chapters || 15 | Safe || 16 | Ready || Last Few Chapters || 13 | Tested || 12 | Almost Happy ||

[drazzilder]

A Fire in the Desert

By Drazzilder 

This is based off of a story my aunt told me when she was driving through the desert and was saved by a man who lived there. I had a dream about this after she told me.

Driving is something that comes naturally, but sometimes it can get you stuck in the middle of a bad situation. It is July and you are driving your average sedan through the deserts of Nevada in order to get to your friend who lives in California. You easily could have flown but there is something nice about driving by yourself, letting the miles go by as you enjoy the view. It has been about 50 miles since the last gas station with nothing coming up for about another 100 miles. It is just a single lane highway with nothing but sand on either side for what looks like forever.

Trouble occurs when you see the dashboard light up like a Christmas tree as smoke and steam start to erupt from under the hood. You pull off to the side of the road and open the hood, almost getting burned form the wall of steam coming from the engine. You don’t freak out; you have a cell phone so you pull it out to call for help. That is when you notice not a single bar of signal and then you really begin to freak out. It is over 100 degrees outside and you only have a few bottles of water with you. There is no way you could make it to the closer gas station. You believe you will die there, alone in your car with no one to save you.

It has been about an hour by the time you see a vehicle in the distance coming your way. As it approaches, you get on the road to try to stop whoever is driving it. You then see that it is a tow truck and it comes to a stop near your car. A large man comes out of the truck. He looks to be over 6’ 4’’, a large red scar goes down the left half of his face, and he is built like a house, probably over of 250lbs of muscle. He is wearing jeans, boots, and a short sleeve button-down shirt. The most striking part is his crimson red spiked hair. As he approaches you, you start to get scared. You are about normal height but this man towers over you, he could easily hurt you if he wanted to. He doesn’t say anything as he walks to the front of your car and begins looking at the engine.

“Um…. excuse me?”

“Looks like your radiator pump blew.”

“Ok?”

“It might be a couple of days till I can get the part but I have room at my shop for you to stay.”

“Wait, who are you? Why should I go with you, I don’t even know who you are?”

“My name is Enji. I live here in the desert. I have an auto repair shop here to help those who get stuck, like yourself. Help me hook your car up and we can get out of here faster.”

You help the man get your car on the tow truck and get into the cab with him. You’re still a little fearful of what this man might do so you try talking to him to maybe gauge what his plans are but he speaks first.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask you your name.”

“It’s (Y/N). Enji is a strange name for an American.”

“You are right about that; I am not from here. I moved from Japan about 10 years ago.”

“Why the middle of the desert?”

“I don’t really like talking about my past…”

“Oh…sorry…”

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

The conversation between you two continues as you approach a road you didn’t notice when you were driving before. It feels like a few miles pass as you see a building in the distance. The building is an old gas station, looks to be from the 60’s. There are a few rusted out cars around and some weeds growing in the pavement but overall, it looks like it hasn’t been touched in decades. The truck stops and Enji gets out. You soon follow him inside and see it is nothing like the outside. It has been fully modified to look more like a home than a gas station. The furniture might be a little old and dusty, but everything looks taken care of.

“Make yourself at home. Are you hungry?”

“Um…I guess.”

“I’ll cook us up some lunch and look at your car afterwards. Feel free to use the vending machine to get whatever drink you like, everything is free.”

“Do you have a phone so I can call my friend to let her know I’m going to be late?”

“It’s right over there.” He says and points to a corner of the room.

He disappears into the back and you get yourself a soda from the machine. After letting your friend know you’re going to be late, you look around at some of the pictures on the wall. You see a dusty frame of what looks to be a younger Enji with what looks like a family: a wife and 4 kids. The fact it has never been cleaned makes you wonder if that what his past involves. You then see a newspaper article taped to the wall. You see the headline “Desert Giant Saves Another Stranded Driver.” You begin reading it and realize the man in the article is the same man who saved you. It says on the paper that the reporter tried to locate the man but to no avail.

“Are you the giant of the desert?”

“Yup, I’m the one who saves people who need it. You must be looking at the newspaper clippings.”

‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s fine, lunch is almost ready if you want to come back here.”

You take the man’s offer up and walk to the back. You find a large kitchen with a table and chairs in the center. Enji is still at the stove, finishing up the meal. You sit down and right as he finishes and brings you a plate.

“I hope you like fried rice.”

“That’s fine. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

“You can, but I might not answer them all.”

“That’s fair. First, why do you live here?”

“That’s about my past, I don’t like talking about it.”

“Ok, why save people who get stuck in the desert?”

“No one else is doing it, so I feel like it is the right thing to do. Plus, heat doesn’t bother me.”

“I have one last question…. what’s with that picture of what looks like you with a family?”

That must have been a touchy subject because he just gets up and goes outside to work on your car. It’s too late to apologies. The only thing you do is clean up the kitchen and sit on the couch. It is close to dusk when Enji comes back in.

“Looks like your pump is the problem. I called it in and it should be about 2 days till the part comes in.”

“I’m sorry about earlier….”

“Don’t worry about it. I see you cleaned the kitchen. Thank you.”

After some dinner, Enji falls asleep. You decide to head outside into the dark just to get some fresh cool air. You are there for about an hour when you hear some growling. You turn around to see a bobcat. You back up slowly as the large cat starts coming closer. You then try to run away but the cat sinks its claws into your leg and you fall. The cat then bites your arm and you begin to lose a lot of blood. You scream but you are far from the gas station at this point. You put your hands over your face and close your eyes in fear. Suddenly, you feel the air begin to warm up around you. Opening your eyes, you see flames coming from the distance towards you. A large flame then hits the cat and it runs away. You try to stand but the injury to your leg prevents that. When you look up, you see Enji, he has flames on his face and his shirt burned off. If you weren’t in so much pain, you would have enjoyed the view of his muscles and being picked up. The combination of pain and blood loss make you pass out.

You wake up the next morning on the couch with Enji putting a cool rag on your head. You try to move but the pain in your leg is too much and you groan in pain. Your arm is throbbing from the bite and the bandages are soaked with blood.

“Don’t move, that cut was really deep. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the bobcats. They like to hang out around here at night.”

“How did you save me? I saw flames everywhere.”

“I guess it is only fair to tell you since you saw that… I used to be a pro hero. The reason I am here is because my family all burned in a fire created by my son. I couldn’t save them and it was my fault for pushing my son too far. It became too painful staying in Japan, so I moved here. I haven’t had to use my quirk that much in years.”

“Wait, you have been here 10 years and you have a fire quirk? I knew you looked familiar, you’re Endeavor!”

With a sigh “I was….”

“I’m sorry. It must be hard for you to talk about it.”

“I’ll be fine. Here, drink this.” He says as he hands you some tea to drink. You take a few sips and he leaves and comes back with more bandages. “We need to change the bandages and clean the wounds on your arm. It’s going to hurt. Here, bite down on this.” He puts a clean cloth to your lips. You bite down and he starts slowly unwrapping your arm and start to groan in pain again as he gets to the last layer. He takes his time to make sure it isn’t too painful as you finally see what’s causing the pain. There several large holes in your arm and you look at Enji who has a brown bottle in his hand. “I’m sorry for this.” Is all he says before he starts to pour hydrogen peroxide over your arm. The groans turn to muffled screams as the liquid flows into the wounds. You slam against couch to try to relieve some of the pain as he holds your hand to keep your arm still. It isn’t long before you feel cold water flowing over your arm and the pressure of bandages wrapping your arm. Once finished, you look back up to Enji, panting with the cloth still in your mouth.

He takes the cloth from you. “I’m sorry for that. We need to make sure that doesn’t get infected. The nearest hospital over 200 miles away.”

With shortness of breath “It’s ok…. Enji…. can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“I think I know why you’re here… helping people. You still want to be a hero, don’t you?”

After a moment of silence, Enji sighs and speaks. “I do but I don’t know if I can anymore.”

“The way you came to rescue me tells me that you still want to save people.”

“After all this time…. I can’t just go back.”

“Why not? You look like you were in top form right there, flying at my with the speed and power of the Endeavor I have seen in videos.”

“I don’t know if I can go back, the memories hurt too much.” He says while looking away.

“You don’t have to go back to Japan, you can be a hero here in America. We still need heroes here.”

“I guess….”

“I bet you still have your hero suit.”

“I do, it was such a large part of my life I couldn’t just throw it away.”

“Put it on.”

“What?!”

“Put it on, you might feel like a hero again.”

“Fine….” He says as he leaves. You hear the sounds of rummaging and a few grunts. The gas station was then filled with silence but Enji soon came from the back. When he comes out, he is in his hero suit, looking like he always did. He didn’t turn his flames on but the suit still glowed from his quirk. The then walks to you and sits down on the couch.

“Feel anything?”

“Not really….”

“Try using your quirk. Let’s go outside and see what you can still do.”

“Why are you helping me?” the man says with a confused look.

“You saved me from the desert, I should repay you somehow. I know you won’t take my money. Plus, I would read about how you disappeared suddenly. I always wondered what happened to you. To think you were here all alone this entire time, I can’t imagine what you have been though to end up here.”

Enji then lifts you to take you outside. You’re in the shade sitting in an old car chair. Enji walks about 20 feet away and sighs. He turns on his flame mask and beard and looks at you. You just give him a nod of reassurance. He then jumps up high and uses his quirk to keep himself floating. A fire spear is spawned in his left hand and he throws it at a bush and it catches fire. He then starts to create some large fireballs and throws them at some cactuses. A smile is forming on his face as he begins to start enjoying himself. After a few more minutes of this, he stops and walks to you.

“Do you feel like a hero now?” you say looking up at him.  

“With the suit on, I feel something. I haven’t felt like this in so long, like I was holding myself back.”

“That’s good. Do you still want to hide here in the desert?”

“As nice as it is to help those people here, I think I could be useful elsewhere. I need time to think about it. Thank you.”

“Great. Now can we go back inside, it’s getting hot.”

You head inside and Enji cooks some lunch. Your bandages on your leg needed to be changed after the meal, but you were more prepared for the pain this time. Enji finished wrapping up your leg and looked went back to change out of his hero suit. Coming back, he turned on the radio and you both listened to some music while talking. He asked you about your life, why you were driving through the desert, and other small things. You hesitated to ask about his family, but he did reveal some information, it is still a tough subject for him. After dinner, Enji goes to bed you try to sleep on the couch. You hear the sounds of more bobcats outside of the gas station. You’re afraid they might get in somehow so you get up and hobble to Enji’s room. The noises you made must have woken him up.

“Is everything ok?”

“I can hear the bobcats, I’m scared. Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Can I sleep in your bed…. I don’t know if I can sleep alone right now?”

“That’s fine. You probably will have nightmares about those cats tonight. Here.” he says as he shifts in the bed and opens the covers. He is only wearing pajama bottoms at this point but you don’t care, your too frightened to care about anything else. You get in the bed and he lays on his back and you’re on your side facing away from him. You manage to calm down enough to fall asleep.

You are startled awake in the middle of the night by a snort from Enji. You come to quickly realize that you are in Enji’s arms, holding you tight while still asleep. His breath is going down your neck, driving you insane feeling the warmth with each breath. His skin is so warm against yours; it feels so nice but you know it’s not right. You try to wiggle your way out of his embrace but it seems to only cause him to tighten his grip on you. Then you start to feel something behind you, growing.

“Enji… wake up….” You whisper loudly.

“What?” he mumbles. He then wakes up more to realize what’s happening. He quickly let’s go of you and sits up on the bed. “I’m…. sorry…” he says still groggy. “I didn’t mean to…”  

“Don’t worry about it. You were asleep, you can’t control what your body does in your sleep.”

“I don’t what you to think that’s why I brought you here.”

“I know you didn’t bring me here for that.” You say using your uninjured hand to hold his hand. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not worried about it.” You say laying down. He soon follows and falls asleep. You wake up to the light of dawn. Enji has his arms around you again. You are facing him but this time you are prepared. There is a faint smile on his face, something peaceful and calming. You slowly move to wake Enji up. He opens his arms to release you. He sits up on the bed, his face red with embracement.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why….”

“You have been alone for years; your body probably wants to feel the touch of another person after all this time.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since then. It makes sense. We need to change your bandages then I’ll make some breakfast.” There was some more pain in the morning and Enji hardly spoke during breakfast. You go back to the couch and Enji joins you again. He just sits there silent until you speak.

“Are you ok? You haven’t said anything all morning.”

“I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“My emotions… I never really think about them much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t felt like this in so long.”

“You like me, don’t you?”

“What? How did you…”

“You mumble in your sleep. It’s cute.”

Now with his face completely red “I didn’t want you to think that is why I wanted to take you here. Your car really needs a new pump.”

“I know but the heart wants what the heart wants. You can’t control that. Speaking of my car. The part should be here today and I’ll be leaving.”

“I know.”

“Did you want to come with me?”

“What?”

“You don’t have anything here, nothing to hold you back. We can work together to get you back into hero work, work to make you happy again.”

“I can’t ask you do to that for me.”

“I want to. I saw the look on your face when I woke up in your arms. You looked happy, something I haven’t seen from you my entire time here. When you put that suit on, I saw a spark in your eyes, I bet you haven’t felt like that in years. Come with me and we can work on that.”

Enji just looks at you, still red with embarrassment. This lasts for a little while before he moves on the couch and goes to hug you. You do your best to hug him back. It feels like a forever when you start to feel something wet on your shoulder. You pull back to see Enji crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“No one has ever cared about me. I helped hundreds of people and no one cared about me or who I am. You’re the first person in so long that cares what I feel.”

“Here, let me help with that.” Is all you say right before you kiss him on the lips. Enji is startled but begins to kiss you back. Time slows as you continue to kiss him while he embraces you. You break and look at the man in front of you, with a huge grin on his face.

“How was that?”

“It was nice…do you still want me to come with you?” he says almost looking like he is afraid of your answer.

“I said I wanted you to come with me, that hasn’t changed. Let’s pack you stuff up before the pump gets here.”

The morning is filled with packing up boxes of stuff, packing clothing, and cooking some lunch. The delivery man comes and Enji quickly fixes your car. You’re sitting in your car and start the engine, relieved to hear it finally start again. Enji comes out with only a suitcase and puts it in the back on your car and gets inside.

“What about everything we packed?”

“I don’t need any of that. I just need my hero suit. I think I can finally move on from my past.”

“What about everything here?”

“Maybe someone else who needs to find themselves will find this place. Maybe that’s why this place still exists.”

“Well, if you’re ready to go.”

He just nods and you begin to drive, the gas station disappearing past the horizon. The drive home was quiet, but you know there is a lot of emotions going through his head. It will take some time but maybe Endeavor will rise again.

[winchesterwords]

“Keep Your Secrets” Part 2 - Sam Winchester x F!Reader

PART 1 PART 3

Summary: After Sam finds you missing, he calls Dean and the others and they start looking for you. When Sam and Dean arrive at your place, they find something odd...

Word Count: 3205

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Natural” by imagine Dragons

Note: Part 2 of Keep Your Secrets. There will actually be one more part so stay tuned!

---------

Sam paced the floor of your office as he waited for Dean to arrive.

The sulfur has invaded his senses and all he could think about was black-eyed assailants coming for you. The thought alone made him feel sick. A bitter laugh left his throat as he thought about all the times he worried about protecting you from the world of the supernatural. He should have known that no matter what, the monsters in the dark always found him. 

As soon as Sam had told his brother that you were gone, Dean said he was on his way. There was no doubt now that Dean knew about you. Sam didn’t care about keeping you all to himself right now, all he cared about was finding you and finding you alive. 

Sam had just sat down on the couch when the door to your office opened and Dean entered followed by both Cas and Jack. “What happened?” Dean asked, already taking in the scene before him. Sam got up, pushing his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, still flustered. “I tried calling her when we got back and when she didn’t answer I got worried. When she didn’t answer her office line, I came here and found this,” he said gesturing to the room around him. Dean spotted the sulfur just as quickly as Sam had. 

“Demons,” Dean sighed. 

“Low level,” Cas said as he focused on the room. Jack watched both of them, trying to follow their lead, but he was still new to hunting. 

“Alright, we need eyes on what happened here,” Dean said, leaning against a nearby bookcase. “Sam, are there any cameras in the building?” 

“There should be some at the entrances and the main hallway. (Y/N) was saying that they were recently doing maintenance on them and causing too much noise,” Sam explained with a frown. 

“Security office shouldn’t be too far from here,” Dean figured. “Jack, you come with me, I may need your wings.” Jack followed Dean out the door, simply going along with whatever Dean needed as usual. As soon as the two of them left, Cas was left alone with the younger Winchester. 

“Sam,” Cas began. 

“This is my fault, Cas,” Sam said, trying to stay as calm as possible. “This always happens.” 

“We don’t know that this had anything to do with you,” Castiel said, trying to comfort him. “Demons go after people for all sorts of reasons. You know this.” 

“It’s not a coincidence. It never is when it comes to us,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I swear when I find out who or what took her…” Sam braced his hands on your desk, trying to center himself. Cas approached him and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, wishing he could heal the pain that was not physical. 

“This woman is very important to you,” Cas said. Sam nodded, keeping his eyes on the wooden surface beneath his fingers. “Then we will find her, Sam."

“You don’t know that, Cas,” Sam said, finally looking at the Angel. Cas tilted his head, his brows going up as he gave Sam a small smile. 

“For as long as I have known you and Dean, you’ve never not completed a mission. I know you Sam, and I also know that when it comes to someone you care about, you won’t stop until you save them.” Cas put pressure again on Sam’s shoulder and Sam relaxed a bit more. 

“Thanks, Cas,” he said and the Angel bowed his head, taking a step back just as Dean came back into the room with Jack who was holding a box of security footage. 

“For a University, they could at least use a flash drive,” Dean said as Jack dropped the box on the desk. 

“Did you break into the office?” Cas asked, looking at Dean. 

“Not exactly,” Dean said as he powered up the laptop in front of him. “We didn’t break in, Jack flew in and unlocked the door from the inside,” he said and Jack nodded, happy to be helping. Cas sighed, but didn’t say anything as Dean began filtering through the CDs. “Sam, when do you think she was taken?” 

“She texted me just before we left for the hunt and she seemed fine,” Sam said, trying to think, “her assistant isn’t here and he didn’t report anything, so it must have happened either this morning or last night.” 

“Okay,” Dean said as he picked the right CD and placed it in the laptop. It didn’t take him long to find the right cameras. Sam joined him at the screen, scanning for your face. 

“There,” Sam said, pointing to the upper corner of the screen. He watched as you arrived on campus, a cup of coffee in your hands as you reached for the keys that opened the building. 

“She’s pretty,” Dean said and Sam smiled slightly before concentrating again. 

“Fast forward,” Sam said and Dean did, flashing through most of the day. He switched to the cameras in the main hall. Your assistant Brian was at his desk, working calmly when suddenly, he froze in his seat. Cas and Jack had joined the brothers behind the laptop as they watched as Brian slowly stood from his seat and then that’s when they saw it. 

Brian had black eyes. 

“Dammit,” Dean swore. All four men watched as Brian headed to your office and kicked in the door. There wasn’t audio on the tapes, but Sam could imagine the sound of your voice and the confusion in it as Brian entered the room. The hallway was empty for a moment before Brian appeared again, but this time, he held you over his shoulder. 

You were limp in his arms and from the angle of the camera, Sam couldn’t tell if you were hurt or dead. The demon that possessed Brian grinned as he walked down the hall with you.

“Try to follow them,” Sam said and Dean flicked through the cameras until he found the one that showed the loading dock at the back of the building.

The area was usually used for deliveries, but now it held a dark black sedan. Brian walked towards the car and another man with black eyes got out of the back seat and helped put you in the car. At least one more was driving. 

As soon as the sedan left the loading area, Dean lost them. “Son of a bitch,” Dean swore. “Sam, I’m sorry.”

“If they wanted to kill her, they wouldn’t have taken her with them,” Castiel pointed out. 

“Cas is right,” Sam said. “There has to be a reason.”

“Then what do they want?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t know. She has nothing to do with any of this!” Sam yelled. Jack reached out a hand to try and comfort him but dropped it before he could make contact. 

“She’s a lore professor,” Dean pointed out. 

“Yeah, but it’s all theory. She doesn’t actually believe in any of it,” Sam suddenly froze as a realization set in. “I have been lending her some of our books.”

“They might think she’s a hunter,” Jack concluded and Sam lashed out at the closest thing to him which was a stack of textbooks. They scattered across the floor. 

“Dammit!” Sam swore. This time, Jack did step forward to comfort Sam. the younger Winchester looked down at the Nephilim and saw the worry in his eyes. 

“It’ll be okay, Sam.” Jack tried and Sam softened at the words.

“The kid is right. We’ll figure this out, Sammy,” Dean said. “First things first, let’s get out of here before someone comes knocking.” 

------

Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack returned to the bunker to collect their thoughts. 

Sam couldn’t stop pacing as they sat around the table in the War Room. Jack watched him, his eyes flicking back and forth as Sam wore a hole in the floor. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since you had been taken and his mind couldn’t keep the crime statistics at bay.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the last time he had seen you. He had told you that he would go and see you when he got back and you had said that he better. Sam internally cringed at the memory of hugging you instead of doing what he actually wanted to.

The two of you hadn’t kissed yet. You were taking it slow, but there had been so many perfect moments and he had always shied away from you. It was at that moment that Sam decided that if he got to you in time, he wouldn’t waste another opportunity. 

“Alright,” Dean said, taking charge of the situation. “Sammy, sit down before I tie you to a chair myself.” Sam rolled his eyes but sat down anyway. “Normally in a situation like this, I would outsource for information. However, the one insider from Hell that we knew is now dead so we may have to go old school with this one.” 

Sam knew he was talking about Crowley. Whether any of them admitted it or not, they all missed the demon. Dean acted like he didn’t care, but Sam, Dean, and Cas had all spent significant time with the late King of Hell and Sam, at times, did miss his banter. 

Normally, hunting down demons was easy. Sam and Dean had been doing it for more than a decade, but right now, he couldn’t seem to think straight. “How hard is it to hunt a handful of damn demons?” Sam asked.

“It’s not, Sam,” Dean reminded him. “You’re just not thinking clearly. If this was any other hunt, where would we start looking?” 

“Places they’re most likely to hold up,” Sam said automatically. Dean pointed at his brother with an approving nod. 

“Exactly,” he said. “Demons like dark holes or abandoned buildings. Or there are the classier ones that like penthouses and fancy hotel rooms.”

“I don’t think these demons would take (Y/N) to a populated place,” Cas said. “If she is some kind of hostage, then they would need a place where they could keep her quiet.”

“Underground?” asked Jack. 

“Probably not,” said Dean. “Demons are strong, but if they are keeping her alive, the would need somewhere they could fortify. Too many things live down in the sewers or tunnels to ensure that.”

“Can we stop saying the word ‘if’,” Sam pleaded. Dean grimaced. 

“Right,” Dean said, “Sorry. Okay, this is what we’re gonna do. Jack, you and Cas hit up the warehouse district. It’s close enough to the University that they could have set up there. Sam and I will go to (Y/N)’s apartment and see what we can find. Text us if you find anything.” Jack nodded and then stood up from his seat. Cas followed after him. 

Jack slipped his Angel blade into his coat and then grabbed Cas’ arm. With a loud flutter of wings, both Celestials were gone. Sam stared at the spot his friends has just disappeared and Dean clapped his hands together loudly, gaining his brother’s attention.

“Grab your gun,” Dean said. “You know where she lives?” Sam nodded.

“I dropped off a book for her once,” Sam said, grabbing his weapon and following Dean up the stairs. 

“Good, come on.” 

-----

Dean drove as Sam gave him directions. 

“So, this professor of yours,” Dean began. Sam sat next to him, twisting his Angel blade in his hands as Dean tried to keep his brother focused. “How come you didn’t want to tell me about her?” 

“What?” Sam asked. 

“I mean, I get it. Big brother and all and I’m a bit...overbearing, but it seems like you really like this one. I just thought it was odd you never mentioned her,” said Dean as he pulled up to a red light. 

“I don’t know,” Sam said, keeping his eyes forward. 

“Yes, you do,” challenged Dean. Sam sighed, giving in.

“I just… I didn’t want to jinx anything,” Sam admitted. 

“Sam, I’m your brother,” Dean said. “Hell, you listen to all my drama when it comes to women. So I believe you are almost required to let me know when someone has entered your life. Besides, she sounds like a total badass.” Sam smiled at that. 

“She is,” Sam agreed.”And she is just so...normal. You know? She’s not a werewolf or a demon or another hunter. She’s just this incredibly smart girl who happens to be interested in everything I am.” 

“You really care about this girl, don’t you?” asked Dean.

“More than you realize,” Sam said. “More than she realizes. I’ve never wanted to settle down or anything like that before. Not until I met her.”

“Hey man, trust me, I get it.” 

“Because of Lisa?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a nod. He never outright said it, but Sam knew that Dean regretted a lot about the way his relationship with Lisa had ended. While he loved her, Sam also knew that Dean regretted bringing her into the world of monsters in the place after almost losing Ben the first time. 

“You couldn’t keep Lisa out of the life,” Sam reminded him. 

“No, but you are not me, and (Y/N) is not Lisa,” Dean said. “Also, there was baggage with Lisa that you don’t have with her.”

“I still can’t help but think this is my fault. Whoever took her must have seen me around her office. I figured that was the safest place to see her.”

“Maybe it is your fault,” Dean said and Sam looked at him with his brows raised, but Dean just shrugged. “And maybe it wasn’t. Whatever this is about, it happened and now we are going to find them, gank them, and get your girl back.”

“You seem oddly optimistic,” Sam noticed. 

“Sam, after Lucifer killed Cas and we were alone with the kid, I didn’t think anything could be good again. I mean, you saw me and how I was. And then, lo and behold Cas came back to us and I realized we can’t take any of this for granted.”

Sam thought over his brother’s words. Dean has been a wreck after Cas died. Sam had been mourning too, but anyone who knew both Dean and Cas would know that the pain Dean was going through went very deep. Losing Cas was like losing a limb and when Jack had brought him back, Dean had recovered almost instantly. 

“So, what you’re saying,” Sam said, “is that you have a good feeling about this?” 

“Come hell or high water, Sammy, we’ll get these assholes.” 

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam said, reaching over and gripping his brother’s shoulder. 

“Anytime brother, anytime.”

------

Sam and Dean arrived at your apartment and Sam kept watch as Dean quickly picked the lock. 

Pushing open the door, Sam took a few moments to take in your space. He had never been inside the place just on the doorstep. Your home was very… you. Books lined all your shelves along with other accommodations you had gotten while being a teacher. Your style was relaxed and comfortable, but he could spot antique pieces here and there as well.

The number of take-out menus on your counter made him smile. You had mentioned once that you really didn’t like to cook and seems you were understating that little fact. An unopened bottle of wine sat by your stove and as Sam picked it up, he felt his heart sink a bit. 

“What is it?” Dean asked. 

“I recommended this wine to her,” Sam said sadly, gently placing it back down. Dean frowned as he continued to look around the room. Sam scanned through the kitchen before Dean shouted for him. 

“Sam!” Dean said from the living room. Sam joined him. 

“Find something?” Sam asked and Dean held up his hand which was coated in yellow dust. “Sulfur.” 

“Also this,” Dean said holding up a folded piece of paper. “It has your name on it.” Sam took the note from Dean. S.Winchester was scrawled on the front of it. Sam hastily opened it and read it aloud. 

“Come save your girlfriend, Boy King,” Sam said, gritting his teeth. “There’s an address at the bottom,” he said bitterly. 

“Let me see,” Dean said and Sam handed the note to him. Dean tapped the address into his phone and frowned. “It’s an old hospital. It’s been closed for over a decade,” Dean explained. 

“I don’t understand any of this!” Sam yelled as he began to pace again. “Why are they doing this? Why her? Why are we always getting into situations like this!”

“Sam!” Dean said, grabbing onto his brother’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “Calm down and breathe. We have a location now. We can call Jack and Cas and we can go get her. They wouldn’t have left he damn note if they had killed her.” 

“I know, I know,” Sam said, more to himself than to Dean. 

“We’re gonna get her,” Dean said again, “I have always been a hero for your love life and I ain’t about to let you lose this one.” Dean then pulled his brother into a hug and Sam relaxed, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. “You good?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah,” said Sam as he pulled away. “I’m good.”

“Alright then, let’s get going. We’ll call the heaven brigade in the car.”

------

On the way to the hospital, Sam checked their supply of holy water. 

“We’re killing them, right? Not exorcising them?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah, we’re killing them. If we just send them back, they’ll just come back for her,” said Sam. 

“What about the assistant?” Dean asked. Sam sighed, momentarily forgetting about Brian. 

“I don’t know, maybe,” he said and Dean just shrugged. 

Suddenly, there was the fluttering of wings, and Cas and Jack appeared in the backseat. “Oh, good, backup,” Dean said, grinning at them in the mirror. 

“You have a location?” Cas asked. 

“On our way there now,” Dean told him. 

“Sam,” Cas continued, “tell me about (Y/N).” 

“Uh,” Sam said, unprepared for the question. “She is brilliant and kind. You would really like her, Cas. Her humor kind of reminds me of yours. She has all these ideas about what she wants to do with her life. (Y/N) wants to write books and travel more. She’s never been to New Orleans so I told her I would take her there one day.”

“She sounds nice,” Cas said, wistfully looking out the window. 

“Yeah…” Sam said. “I can’t let her get caught up in all of this.”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” Jack said.

“Kid,” Dean said with a look at him in the rear view and Cas looked at Jack with his “disapproving dad look.

“It’s okay,” Sam assured them,”he’s right anyway.” 

“Well, right or not, we’re gonna fix it,” Dean said as he pulled Baby to a stop. They had arrived outside the hospital and Sam couldn’t help but think of the terror you must have felt being dragged into here. “Alright, crew, gear up,” Dean continued and then looked at his younger brother, “time to go save the girl.”

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