#and to be clear the gif of him shooting is not me saying she died she lived fr fr

[kitconnor]

it's the things we love most that destroy us.

THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE (2013) THE HUNGER GAMES: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS & SNAKES (2023)

[dark-tides-in-faerun]

I have poor blood circulation and on cold nights look like a stereotypical vampire. Could you write a humorous, SFW fic of someone seeing Tav's bite marks and pale complexion and telling Astarion to keep his bloodsucking friend on a tight leash? (Tav can be GN or female, either work for me).

Thank you so much for requesting ilysm! So I realized that I’ve never written anyone in a fit of laughter before (possibly for a reason LOL) but here’s my best attempt 🧡

The Vampire in the Tavern

sfw Astarion x you story!

Astarion is angry.

He’d finally managed to get you to himself, a night at last without the others vying for your attention, and some peasant woman keeps looking over at you from the bar, dark eyes sliding up your body in a way that he knows all too well.

It’s possessive. It’s proprietary. And it’s pissing him off. 

It had started as just mildly irritating, a glance here and there. But she’d been at it for at least an hour now, and not only does that wretch have no right to eye up his partner, but the implication that she finds you more appealing than she does him is vexing. Extremely vexing. And it doesn’t seem to matter how many times Astarion touches you. How many times his fingers lightly graze the line of your jaw or brush against your hand, that godsforsaken woman won’t stop staring.

And you’ve not noticed, of course. For a formidable warrior and your party’s fearless leader, your lack of awareness of your surroundings is astounding, especially where Astarion is concerned. It’s a trait that exasperates and exhilarates him in equal measure. He could do without it on the battlefield, but in a social setting, he delights in it. The way that just catching your eye can cause words to die on your lips, whatever conversation you’d been in briefly forgotten with just a little glance from him. He slips his hand a little higher up your thigh just to prove it to himself, and when your breath catches in response, he smiles.

If only that bloody woman would stop staring, this had the beginnings of a very promising night indeed.

You clear your throat, cheeks flushed and put both hands on the table, pushing yourself to your feet. Astarion frowns but you shoot him an apologetic smile that’s meant to reassure and it does, sinking through his skin and warming his unbeating heart. It’s adorable.

“I’ll be right back. Nature calls.” You say, by way of explanation, and though you’re trying to keep your voice steady, he can hear your desire, thick and sweet as it sticks in your throat. Delicious.

“I’ll be waiting, my sweet.” He lets the words fall from his lips in a way that’s sultry and intentional, staring up at you from beneath dark eyelashes, and you actually shiver. Astarion grins, delighted with himself, as you flush and turn away. His eyes dart back to the woman, and his grin dies on his lips, mood immediately souring again as her beady little eyes fix on you as you make your way to the bathroom.

The absolute fucking audacity.

You see the cords in her throat working as she swallows, biting her lip, and the she does something even more audacious than simply looking at you. As soon as the latrine door swings shut behind you, she rises to her feet and starts to walk over to the table.

Astarion glares up at her, not bothering to hide his irritation, as she comes to a halt at the edge of the booth. She looks uneasy, calloused fingers pulling at the threads of her road worn shirt, and Astarion swears that if she so much as asks for your name he’s going to rip her throat out where she stands, witnesses be damned.

She hovers for a moment, not speaking, and that serves to only annoy him more.

“Yes?” his voice is tight and cold, and she flinches at the harshness. Good.

“I-I’m sorry to interrupt you sir, but…” She trails off into silence and he grinds his teeth.

“Yes, well how sorry can you truly be, given that you have interrupted me.” He snaps and Astarion frowns as he realises that she’s actually shivering. What in the nine hells. He knows that you’re good looking, but this is a bit much. “Come on then, spit it out. I haven’t got all night.”

“I… I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just – I couldn’t in good conscience sit by.” She says and he raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink. A strange way to approach the topic of wanting to snatch his date from him, but at least it was a start. “Sir, you’re in grave danger.”

He splutters, spitting wine over the table in a most undignified way as she stares back at him, wide eyed and fearful.

“I’m sorry, what?” He manages, when he stops choking long enough to speak. His voice is too loud, and the people at the next table look over, but it’s like he’s lost control of his faculties. This is not how this conversation was meant to go.

“It’s true, sir, and there’s not much time. You must leave, now.”

“And might I ask why?” he asks, incredulously, and then immediately recoils in disgust as the woman shoots a fearful glance in the direction of the latrines and slips into the booth beside him.

“That… thing that you’re with.” She whispers, and he has to fight the physical urge to push her away as she grabs his hand between hers. “It’s not a person. It’s a vampire.”

His mouth drops open, but he doesn’t respond. He can’t. The ridiculousness of this situation has actually rendered him speechless. She wasn’t staring at because she fancied you, she was staring because, because-

An uncontrollable feeling rises in his chest.

“You’re not serious.” He gasps, and his voice doesn’t even sound like him.

“Please sir, I’ve seen their kind before and it’s unmistakable. The pallor of the skin, the coldness of the touch.” She’s actually shaking now and it’s too much. He can smell the fear on her, the dampness of her palms as they press against his, the pounding of her blood as it courses through her veins. “They stalk these taverns looking for people to drain dry in alleyways, and that one has its sights set on you, I know it. You have to leave, now!”

He tries not to, he really does.

But he can’t help it.

He fucking cackles in her face.

“Fnnff.” He gasps, grabbing his hand away and covering his mouth, to try and stop the uncontrollable passage of the hysteria that’s flooding from his lips. “Excuse – snnf- e-excuse me.”

“This ain’t no laughing matter, that’s a vampire, in there, I’m sure of it.” The woman cries, wringing her hands, and she looks so earnest that he simply can’t.

“Hah!” He chokes, barely able to draw breath before the next giggle explodes out of him and the woman, for her part, looks appalled.

“I mean it, sir, you’re in danger.” She says, the first hint of annoyance seeping into her voice, and that just sets him off again. He crumples over on the table, hands digging into the wood so hard it buckles beneath his fingers. He almost feels sorry for every time he’s every used Tasha’s hideous laughter on someone, because this is bloody awful. His stomach hurts, tears are leaking from his eyes, but he still can’t stop. Of all the fucking accusations.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the door to the latrines swing open and you step back into the tavern. He turns to get a good look at you. To see the fearsome night stalker in the flesh, the unholy fiend that has this poor woman so terrified, and when he meets your eyes the expression in them is equal parts bemused and concerned and he fucking wheezes.

You, a vampire.

The woman spots you too, and she stumbles to her feet eyes wide and bright with fear. Astarion throws his head back and lets out a guffaw of laughter so loud and embarrassing that it’s almost enough to sober him, but unfortunately, it’s made you, the object of this woman’s abject terror, jump.

He can’t cope.

“Is everything okay?” Your voice is amused, but a little concerned and Astarion can barely nod as he clutches his stomach. He sees the woman’s eyes slide to your throat and the marks of his bite shine accusatorily back at her in the tavern light.

“Vampire.” She breathes, pointing at you, almost falling over herself as she backs away from them and Astarion collapses onto his side, tears streaming down his face as the woman shoots him one final, terrified look and then turns on her heels and flees into the night.

You stare after her, thoroughly confused now and Astarion is barely able to contain himself enough to move over to let you sit down.

“What in the hells was that about?” You ask, as you slip into the recently vacated spot and Astarion swallows down a giggle, barely able to breathe as he grins at you. It would appear his laughter is somewhat infectious, as you let out a little laugh of your own and touch his face with a bemused frown. And it’s only then that Astarion realizes just how much attention his little display has brought to you both. The people of the tavern are all staring at them and it’s not a friendly look. No doubt they heard the word ‘vampire’ and that, finally, is sobering enough for him to get himself under some semblance of self-control.

“That is a story not for here, my blood sucking friend.” He gasps, stifling another giggle as the look on your face is almost enough to set him off again. He nudges you gently out of the booth and grabs your hand, pulling you towards the tavern doors. “But don’t worry, if I manage to survive the journey in your company, I’ll tell you all about it when we get back to camp.”

[bella-goths-wife]

Request:What if Val was in a bad mood after meeting Charlie,What would he do?

Aftermath of pet meeting Charlie (DARK CONTENT)

Warnings: abuse, violent punishments, implied past SA, sexualisation of reader, power imbalance, weird dynamics, drugging, slut shaming, threats of SA

Just a reminder that reader died when she was 18 and that I do not condone of romanticise the disturbing themes I write about!

You awoke to a harsh headache and light sensitivity due to the sleeping pills, but also with an ultra awareness that you were not in angels dressing room or your room.

You felt an eerie chill creep up your spine at the familiar sensation of the zebra print silk sheets underneath your body as you tried to pull yourself up.

A shaky sigh escaped you at the memory of the last time you had awoken in this bed, with Valentino’s limbs thrown inappropriately around you as they squeezed you.

“Finally awake darling?” You heard and you froze in fear

You look up to see Valentino smoking his disgusting cigars while sitting in a chair that he usually left open for an observer to his night time promiscuity.

Be looked at you with a predatory gaze that you were all to familiar with as you prepared yourself mentally to dissociate from whatever was about to happen to you.

“You’ve been out for two days” Valentino states with a humourless chuckle “I guess I miscalculated the amount I gave you huh? Oops”

You knew this was part of the punishment, his mockery comes first and then his heavy handed abuse. You also knew that you’d be punished by the other two for missing work

“Your little friend was just so interested in you” Valentino states as he rises from the chair and stalks closer to you “said that she’d love to see you again, that was before I kicked her out and gave Angel dust a proper warning about inviting guests to shoots”

You heart dropped at the mention of angel dust, you scolded yourself for not seeing how your actions would affect him.

“Got anything to say for yourself, princesa?” He asked as he gripped your face harshly and his nails threatened to rip into the delicate skin of your cheeks to make more markings

“I’m so sorry Valentino” I apologise desperately with a clear tone of fear “I was just trying to help-“

“Oh I’m sure you were” Valentino scoffed out sarcastically as he pushed you off the bed and onto the hardwood floor “just like you used to help your friends at your little raves”

You tried to crawl away from your abuser with your arms, but Valentino stood over you and gripped your hair to pull your face up and expose your throat. You yelped in pain as you felt the iron hot pain in your scalp from his hold on your hair

“Tell me darling, did sucking all those cocks when you were alive to get into parties ever fill the hole that your dear old dad left?” Valentino asked with a mocking tone “did fucking all those girls and boys in the toliet stalls ever fool you into thinking you were worth more than a mildly entertaining hole that people would abandon when you’d use one to speak”

You felt tears clouding your vision as you hyperventilated in pain at the words and the physical sensations of his abuse.

“We gave you purpose” Valentino yelled in your face before turning you body over and slapping you across the face “we made you worth something instead of scum on the streets”

You groaned out in pain as his hands wrapped around your throat and squeezed down. Fear encased your entire body

“I told Vox about your new mission for friends and he gave me permission to punish you how I see fit, his only rule was to make sure you could easily cover it up in time for your photoshoot tomorrow” Valentino scoffs out with a smirk that turned into a sneer “if you were one of my souls, I’d have the camera ready and twelve men lined up for you but I suppose Vox is more merciful than me”

You gasped out for air as you felt pressure in your head and your vision going spotty. Valentino only scoffed.

“I suppose you’ll always be that pill seeking whore at heart, but that’s okay darling” Valentino says as his tone switches from angry to charming in a second and he lets go of your throat and walks away from you and towards his closet “we can fix that”

You gasp out for air as you clutch your own neck and you greedily gulp down air you could get. Your had a burning pain in your body and a dull ache in your head.

You saw Valentino undressing himself and an icy panic came at the thought that maybe he wasn’t done with his punishment. That panic calms after you see him simply changing into his sleepwear

“Oh my sweet little pet, it’s all over now” Valentino coos as he walks over to you and picks you up before placing you in his bed “you did good pet, we’re done now”

You sobbed into his pillows and you held yourself at the feeling of violation that surrounded you after you abuse.

Valentino sighs before going to his bedside draw and pulling out what looked like a gummy bear, but you knew the routine.

He wants to hold you In some sick kind of abuse aftercare to make his feelings of guilt disappear, and he couldn’t do that if your sobbing and squirming.

So he’ll feed you a weed gummy to try and relax you and make you more pliable to his twisted affection, and that’s what he does as he holds the gummy to your lips.

And your desperation to feel anything other than the pain or the feel the deep violation that came from his punishments, you accept it with urgency.

“You just need to be broken in and taught” Valentino sighs as he gets into the bed and holds you close “you need to break those bad habits and realise that your all ours”

A sob breaks out of your mouth, you’re truly trapped with them. You’re trapped being theirs.

You fall asleep in your abusers arms with the deep fear that you’ll awaken to the same situation and a desperate hopelessness that you won’t wake up at all.

Tag list:

@the-faceless-bride @repostingmyfavs @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @hazbinhotelxreader @idontreallyexistyet @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @aroomofmyown24 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

[catoslvt]

Gally (TMR) x Reader

Death cure based with major spoilers.

You and gally were together back in the maze. It's been 3 years since he "died"

This is very long, but there is smut at the end 😜

As I stare at the masked man, I can't help but recognise him, well obviously not his face because he's wearing a gas mask, but I recognise his posture, his body language, just generally the vibes he's giving off, and it reminds me all too much of Gally.

But that's impossible, Gally died, I watched him die. I let him die.

As the van we were forced into goes over a small bump, it annoys me only more.

"Sit there all mysterious then." I grumble as I cross my arms and glare at the three of them.

"Are you guys just gonna sit there all mysterious, or are you gonna take those stupid masks off?" I spit at the three masked men, mainly aiming it at the one that resembles Gally, and Thomas and Brenda turn to me and let out small laughs whilst the masked men stay silent and continue to stare at the three off us.

Once we were let go from the vans, Jorge stumbles out of one of them, pinning down one of the masked men and hitting him across the face repeatedly.

"Where is she!?" He screams as I walk around him to reach newt, I know it's bad to have a favourite best friend, but Newt and Brenda are most definitely mine. He was there for me whilst I coped with Gallys death, and he never scolded me for grieving an "asshole" but gally wasn't an asshole, he was just misunderstood, I understood him though, and he understood me.

"Who are you?" Thomas asks as I wrap newts arm around mine and drag him to stand beside Thomas.

"Don't worry, we're all on the same side." The man says, and although his voice is muffled, it sounds like Gallys voice.

"What do you mean, all on the same side? Who are you?" Thomas quizzes, and suddenly the man takes his mask off, and my jaw drops.

"Hey, greenie." Gally says with a small smile, and my knees feel weak as I go to stumble backwards, but Newt quickly catches me, and in the few moments my eyes leave gally, Thomas has him on the floor hitting him.

"Frypan, hold y/n." Newt says, and frypan quickly holds my arm as Brenda clears her throat.

"I'm so confused. Who is he?" Brenda asks frypan and he shakes his head.

"My boyfriend." I gasp, and Brenda turns her head to stare at me, and I just shrug.

"An old friend from our maze." He tells her and I shake my head.

Once Newt has dragged Thomas off gally, I stare at him and he smiles at me.

"Hi y/n." He laughs, and I push frypan off of me and run to gally, pulling him in a tight hug as the tears begin to stream from my eyes.

"I thought you were dead." I cry as my arms tighten around his neck as his arms slowly make their way around my waist, and I just take a deep breath, taking in his new all too familiar but also unfamiliar scent.

"Without saying goodbye to you? Never." He whispers, and I just laugh before I remove my arms from his neck and cup his face with my hands.

"Holy shit it's actually you." I gasp as I stare at his face, it's been three years since I last saw gally, and as much as he's changed physically by shaving his hair, putting on more muscles, growing taller and well obviously aging, he's still the boy I met all those years ago in the glade.

"It's you too." He laughs before I roll my eyes and kiss him, and he kisses back before Brenda claps, and I awkwardly pull away from gally and stand beside him, facing my friends as Brenda smiles and shoots me a small thumbs up, she's heard every single detail about Gally and I, she heard every detail about gally himself probably over a thousand times, to the point where she said it feels as if she knows him personally.

"Why are you guys here anyway? Wckd is after you lot, like majorly." Gally asks as he looks at Thomas with his eyebrows raised slightly.

"We need to get into Wckd. They have Minho." Thomas answers and gally lets out a small laugh.

"Do you know how dangerous that is?" Gally asks and Thomas furrows his eyebrows.

"Look gally, can you help us or not? We need to get back to our camp soon, and if you're not helping us, then we're leaving." Thomas states, and I grab gallys hand and glare at Thomas, in a way that says,'I'm not leaving him.' And Thomas rolls his eyes slightly, but I just shrug him off as I turn my head to stare at gally with a smile and all the feelings come flooding back, all the feelings from when I was just a silly girl who didn't know anything, now I'm still a silly girl who knows quite alot after everything I've been through.

"Fine." Gally says as he grabs my hand and drags me deeper into wherever we are, Thomas and everyone else following us.

"After the maze, I got picked up by a group headed to the city." Gally tells us, as he's now at the front of the group, and I'm now walking with Brenda, still smiling at the fact my boyfriend is alive..

"They realised I was immune, patched me up, then brought me here. Lawrence. This group has been at war with Wckd ever since they took control over the city, but wckd couldn't hide behind those walls forever." He continued and I stare at him, Thomas or newts head ocasionally getting in the way but I don't care, even just being in his presence is enough to keep me smiling.

"The days gonna come, and they're gonna pay for what they've done." He finishes before he turns around to stare at the group.

"Listen. He doesn't get a lot of visitors, so let me do the talking, alright?" Gally asks, and we all nod.

"And try not to stare." He then adds which makes me scrunch my nose in confusion but we all follow him into the room anyways.

The room is a beautiful room filled with all types of flowers.

"Gally, glad to see you made it back. Jester told me what happened." The man exclaims as gally sets his gun down and walks towards the man.

"It was a slaughter. There was nothing we could do against those guns." Gally tells him as his hands reach up and sit on his vest, his fingers sliding underneath.

"No, but they can only poke a hornet nest for so long before they get stung." The man whispers as he raises a red rose to his nose and smells it, as Brenda, Newt and I all shoot each other a small 'what the fuck?' Look.

"Who are these people? Why are they here." The man asks, or more demands.

"we need to get into Wckd." Thomas says as he steps forward, ruining gallys full 'let me do the talking' rule, which makes me glare at him slightly.

Don't get me wrong, I love Thomas, but he thinks he's the leader of the group. All he thinks about is Teresa, really, Brenda is so clearly head over heels for him, but all he talks about is Teresa.

"Gally said you could get us through the walls." Thomas then adds and Gally just stares at him, clearly slightly annoyed.

"Gally should know better than to keep promises he can't keep." The man says, and I let out a small laugh, but I quickly stop myself before anyone turns to look at me.

"Besides, that wall is only half your problem." The man continues as he grabs the rack that is pumping something into him as he begins to walk to us.

"Getting inside wckd is impossible." He finishes and gally shakes his head.

"There might be a way now, but it doesn't work without Thomas." Gally announces.

"Is that so? You know what I am, Thomas? I am a businessman." The man says, leaning close into Thomas' face to whisper those last words

"Which means that I don't take unnecessary risks, why should I trust you?" The man asks and Thomas just stares at him.

"Because I can help you. You see if you can get me through those walls I can get you what you want." Thomas says and I turn to Brenda confused but she just shrugs her shoulders.

"So what is it that you think I need?" The man quizzes.

"Time, every last drop." Thomas states and the man turns his head to the side almost as if he's laughing.

"Is that something we both need?" The man sneers, and Thomas just continues to stare at him, almost as if he's staring through him.

"Wckd is something we both want." Thomas tells him, and he man just nods.

"I'll tell you what, two can go for now, the rest stay down here with me. Just a little insurance to make sure you'll find your way back." He tells Thomas and everyone in the group look at each other and shrug.

"Do we have a deal?" The man asks Thomas as he extends his hand for Thomas to shake, which he does, and he man just smirks.

"Gally show them the way." The man then says before gally quickly shoos us all out of the room and shows us the entrance to Wckd, which is a literal sewer drain,and I stare at gally with a smile as he lowers a ladder down into the drain, I quickly crouch on the floor next to him as he drops to the floor ready to climb down.

"Gally, take care of these two." Frypan says and gally just nods.

"Yeah." He says before he looks at me.

"Stay safe, don't get lost or hurt." I warn him and he smiles.

"Cmon y/n, you know me." He says before he kisses me and begins to descend down the ladder, and I smile and watch him go down, smiling to hide the nerves.

As one of the now non masked men lead Brenda and I into a room, he stands at the door with his arms crossed.

"This is where you'll be sleeping whilst you stay here." He says before he slams the door and leaves, and Brenda throws herself onto one of the single beds, me copying her actions.

"I can't believe I finally got to meet Gally." She says with a small laugh.

"You can't believe it!? I thought he was dead! I watched him die." I tell her with an even larger laugh and she just nods.

"You must really love him if when you saw him, you still knew the love for him was there." Brenda tells me and I just smile.

"The love for him never left, I had plenty of opportunities to find someone else, like when I was captured by Wckd there was a few boys who showed interest in me but I couldn't stop thinking about gally, in the glade I thought i loved him, but when I lost him that's when I realised I did love him." I quietly say, and she just stares at me, but then shakes her head.

"But, you thought he was dead, so why didn't you move on?" She quizzes and I shrug.

"I asked myself that almost every day, but a part of me knew he wasn't dead no matter how bizarre it sounded to say out loud." I tell her and she just smiles widely.

"I'm really happy you've got him back y/n, I could see how much you loved him when you spoke about him." She tells me with a genuine smile on her face.

"Even with him back, it doesn't mean I won't spend time with you. You're still my best friend, Brenda, you know that. You know i love you." I tell her, and she laughs.

"I love you too, not as much as I love Thomas, though." She says and I just laugh

As we sit around the table with paper spread all over it, Thomas shakes his head.

"Nope, there's got to be another way in." He says and gally laughs.

"But how? You've seen the building, she is our only way in." Gally states as I stare at him.

"You really think she's gonna help us?" Thomas asks but my gaze then falls on newt who looks as anxious as ever as he plays with his fingers.

"I don't plan on asking for her permission." Gally laughs and Brenda clears her throat.

"Am I missing something? This is the same girl who betrayed us, correct? Same dick?" She scoffs and gally looks at her with a smile.

"I like her." He tells us as he points at Brenda before he looks at me and smiles.

"What's going on?" Brenda quizzes as she looks at Thomas, and I can see the anger growing on newts face, somethings wrong with him, I can tell.

"What are you afraid that your little girlfriends gonna get hurt? Hmm?" Newt growls as he stares at Thomas through knitted eyebrows.

"This has obviously never just been about rescuing minho." He continues and I nod my head.

"Exactly." I agree, but nobody listens apart from gally who just chuckles.

"Who are you talking about?" Thomas asks as he approaches newt, who quickly slides off his chair so him and Thomas are both at eyelevel with each other.

"Teresa." He spits as if her name was poison.

"I mean, she's the reason Minhos even missing in the first place, and now we finally have the opportunity to get him back, and you don't want you because of her?" Newt asks as he's walking directly into Thomas, so Thomas has been pressed against the wall. If a deaf person was watching this play out, they'd definitely think that something else was going on here.

"Because keep down inside of you. Do you still care about her? Just admit it." Newt grumbles.

"Newt, no." Thomas answers and Newt grabs both of Thomas' shoulders and pins him tight against the wall.

"Don't lie to me!" He screams.

"Don't lie to me." He then spits and Brenda and I slap a hand over our mouths in usion, each for different reasons.

She did it out of shock, I'm doing it because I'm trying not to laugh.

Newt quickly steps back and shakes his head.

"Sorry." He mumbles.

"Sorry." He then says as he turns to face us all, and I remove my hand from my mouth and stand up from my chair and quickly approach him.

"Are you alright?" I ask and he just stares at me before he walks out, and I turn to everyone in the room, mainly pointing at Thomas though.

"I'm gonna go speak to him, I'll be back in a minute, alright?" I say to the group and everyone nods before I follow newt, quickly realising he's heading for the roof, and as I follow him I watch as he sits down and dangles his leg off of the building, clutching his right hand with his left.

"Newt, what's wrong?" I ask as I slowly sit next to him, my words coming out gentle, as I don't want to startle him. He says nothing and instead pulls up his right sleeve, revealing black veins, which you only get if you have the flare.

"I should've told you sooner." He mumbles, and as I stare at his veins, I feel tears brimming my eyes, but I quickly blink them away as i smile at him, trying to act fine even though inside I was breaking.

"No, no, newt, it's okay." I say as I grab his left hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm happy you told me now." I say and he just nods at me.

"We're gonna get you the cure, okay? You're gonna be alright." I whisper, and he sadly smiles as he blinks away his own tears.

"Can you get Thomas, please?" He asks, and I nod but pull him into a tight hug.

"I really love you newt, you're my best friend, keep fighting for me, I'll get you better." I say as I stand up and run downstairs back to where everyone is and tell Thomas that newt wants him, and once Thomas is far enough away, I burst down into tears, nobody knowing why until I tell them.

"He'll be fine y/n, you know newt. He's a fighter." Gally says as he pulls me into a tight hug, his hand on top of my head as he gently plays with my hair.

"We're gonna get him the cure when we get into Wckd." Brenda calls before her, frypan and jorge all join in on the hug, which makes me let out a sad laugh as I hold onto them all.

Once I've calmed down, gally just grabs my face and stares at me, like I did when I first saw him again.

"I've missed your stupid face." He says with a large smile, and I just glare at him.

"I miss your hair." I cry as I stand on my tip-toes to feel at his now bald head which makes him scoff.

"It'll grow back." He remarks, and I sigh as I then burst out laughing.

"Actually, I think I prefer this hair." I state before Gally pulls me into a kiss, making frypan gag.

"Can you guys make out somewhere else!?" He screams before Thomas quickly runs in.

"I'm going into Wckd, gally you need to come with me, were getting Teresa." He states, and just like that, gallys gone.

Only an hour later, we all stand in front of Teresa, gally Ripping the bag off of her head as we all glare at her.

"gally?" She gasps but gally quickly quiets her by talking.

"Here's how this is gonna go. We're gonna ask you some questions, and you're gonna tell us exactly what we need to know. Well, start off simple. Where's minho?" Gally asks as he grabs a chair and slams it backwards in front of Teresa so that the back of the chair is facing her as he harshly sits down on it and throws his arms over the backrest.

"You guys seriously don't think -" She says as her eyes fall past gally and onto Thomas, which makes gally laugh.

"Don't look at him? Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not gonna help you. We know you have minho in the building. Where?" Gally demands, and I let out a quiet gasp as my knees feel weak when I hear how demanding gally now is.

"he's with the others we're holding. At level three." Teresa answers.

"How many are there?" Newt asks, and Teresa gulps.

"twenty eight." She tells us, and we all turn around to Brenda as she plays with cards.

"I can make that work." She tells us happily with a smile.

"No, no, you guys don't understand the whole level is restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." Teresa states, and Thomas stares at her.

"That's why you're gonna come with us." Thomas tells her, and I stand up from where I'm sitting and grab the scalpel that's on the table and begin walking towards Teresa.

"Well, I don't know. You don't necessarily need her, right? Not all of her. We just need her finger." I sneer, an evil smile growing on my face as I almost pass gally, but he holds an arm out, so I bump into it, him signalling I'm taking it too far.

"y/n back off." Thomas warns from behind me, and I turn to him and glare.

"What are you squeamish? I guarantee you she's done much worse to minho." I question, and he points a threatening finger at me.

"Not the plan back off." He warns yet again, and I groan and give gallys shoulder a comforting squeeze before I walk back to the table and hand Thomas the scalpel.

"it won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up." Teresa says, now clearly panicking after the scalpel comments I made.

"we know. We're tagged, property of wckd. You're gonna help us with that, too." Thomas says as he holds up the scalpel.

As I sit on the chair in front of Teresa as she pulls my shirt down at the back of my neck, her fingers carefully graze my skin.

"Try to relax. This is gonna sting." She says slowly before gally walks over and gives me a warm smile before crouching on the floor in front of me.

"I don't want to see you flinch. You're my tough girl y/n remember." He says with a smile, and I nod, I remember.

As I run out of the maze, tears pouring from my eyes as I grab tightly onto minhos shoulder, trying my hardest to make it as far away from the maze doors as I can before I collapse, when i was running back from in the maze my leg got caught in one of the walls as it begun to move, i pulled it out but my ankle got caught and the wall got caught in it, making my ankle make the most deafening crunch noise you'll ever hear, and my scream got minhos attention as he spirited back and pulled my ankle free of the wall, and when I try to put my ankle on the floor I can't do it, so this is how minho has ended up carrying me back to the glade.

"HELP! Someone get Clint and Jeff!" Minho screams as he sets me on the floor, out of breath from running whilst practically carrying me.

Gally must've heard minhos cries for help, because he sprints over and falls to the floor next to me and when he looks at my ankle he gasps, and he's not even a medjack so it must be bad.

"Y/n, y/n, don't cry. You're my tough girl I don't want to see you cry." Gally warns as he presses a kiss to my head.

I'm snapped out of my memory with Teresa handing me a tissue.

"That's you done." She says, and I nod and get off the chair, allowing gally to climb on it as I sit on the floor like he done with me as I use one of my hands to dab the blood off of my neck using the tissue.

"How are you alive, gally? We watched you die." Teresa asks as she focuses on cutting his neck.

"I wish I knew." Gally says flatly as he reaches out one of his hands to cup my chin, lifting my face only slightly so he can stare at me, which causes me to smile and blush.

"I'm happy you two have each other again." She then adds and I laugh.

"We never lost each other." I say and gally begins to smile again.

When we all get ready for our plan, I smile at everyone.

"We're gonna kick Wckds ass." I exclaim as I do a small happy jump which causes frypan to laugh.

"Y/n, I've never seen you so happy to basically go on a death wish mission." He tells me with a smile and I shake my head.

"Nono, they're going on the deathwish mission, brenda and I are being the drivers." I say as I motion to Gally, newt, and Thomas with a smile.

As Brenda and I sneak our way into the carpark and climb on a bus, I stare around looking for any Wckd workers, but as of right now there's none so I smile slightly.

"Why did we agree to this?" I ask with a small laugh, and Brenda gives me the 'you know why' look and I just stare at her confused, I really don't know why.

"I just thought that if Thomas saw me doing something this brave, then he might actually like me." She sighs and I gasp.

"Thomas should like you anyway! You don't need to risk your life to be good enough for some boy." I state, and she shoots me a thankful smile.

"I wish that was true." She whispers and I shake my head.

"Brenda, you're already the bravest girl I know, you survived the fucking flare for god sake! That's braver than this." I tell her as I grab her shoulders and shake her.

"You're braver than me." She argues, and I shake my head yet again.

"It's not a competition, Brenda. If Thomas doesn't like you for you, then he's not worth it." I say as I give her shoulder a tight squeeze and she then smiles widely at me.

Minutes later, gallys voice rings through the walkie-talkie, asking where we are, and instantly, as he turns the corner, he almost runs face first into our bus, which causes me to laugh.

"Come on let's go!" I exclaim as Brenda opens the doors and the kids begin running in.

As I run to the other door and open it, I stare at gally confused.

"Where's Thomas?" I quiz and he stares at me confused.

"I was hoping he was with you." Gally says and I quickly step out of the bus, but gally grabs me and pushes me back in.

"No y/n, stay with the kids, wait here. I'll find him." He promises, and I just stare at gally, but quickly pull him into a kiss, which makes a few of the kids giggle before I break the kiss.

"Just wait for us, okay." Gally says as he pulls his mask down and then runs off.

I quickly climb on the bus as panic fills my stomach, I can't help but to think that something is gonna go wrong.

"Everyone, alright?" I ask as I turn to all the kids in the bus who just stare at me but all nod.

"I'm y/n, my friend who'll drive the bus is Brenda, were not a part of wckd and were here to take you somewhere safe, alright?" I ask, and all the kids cheer before Brenda gasps.

"Get down!" She exclaims, and I drop to the floor, all of the kids ducking in their seats.

"Stay quiet." She whispers, and i crawl next to her and watch carefully as armed guards approach the bus.

"Sorry, Thomas." I hear her say before she quickly jumps in her seat, me coping her because I know she's about to drive and i don't want to fly to the back of the bus.

As the bus starts, she screams to everyone to hold on as she begins to drive, bursting through barricades as she navigates the city seats, Wckd cars now driving behind us.

"We're fucked!" I yell as I let out large fits of laughter whilst all the kids behind us scream extremely loud.

"You'll all be alright! Just hang on!" I scream to them as Brenda continues to swerve and drive around.

"Jorge is a shit driving instructor." I tell her through large laughs.

"Oh yeah? Didn't he teach you how to drive too!?" She asks, and I just nod.

But whilst we're driving, Wckd cars behind flying at us from all angles and Brenda swerves the car, and now I'm panicking aswell as the kids, but we come to a stop on the middle of the road, and Brenda exits rhe car whilst I stay with the kids.

"We're gonna be alright guys, this is our plan." I tell them all, and they just let out worried cries and whimpers.

Our plan is set in motion once Brenda let's off her flare and connects the rod to our bus and screams to everyone to hold onto something, seconds before the bus is lifted into the air, dangling by the front as we crash into buildings and spin around.

But my laughing comes to a hault when I realise that the rod is slowly but surely Ripping the bumper off of the bus, meaning we're going to fall.

As we all begin screaming and crying, frypan quickly drops us, which sends us hurdling to the ground, but we don't actually fit the ground until the rod fully rips the bumper off of the bus, and the bus lands on the backdoors, until it tips forward and Brenda and I quickly motion for all of the kids to climb out and follow us, but first we had to wait on frypan.

Once we run back to Lawrence's lair thing, we run around trying to find everyone, but nobody is there.

"Where is everyone?" Frypan quizzes before him and Brenda take off in a sprint, leaving me with all the kids, I love taking care of kids, I think kids are funny.

"Is everyone alright?" I ask as I turn to stare at them, and they all nod.

"Thank you for saving us." The youngest boy of them all says, and I stare at him and smile. He reminds me of Chuck.

"Nobody deserves to go through what they put you through." I tell him with a large smile as I crouch down to his size, and he laughs and hugs me, which almost makes me cry as I hug back.

As we pull the kids into the main part, Thomas begins to talk through the walkie-talkie, but she's too far for any of us to hear, so I divert my attention to the kids again.

"Our safe space, is gonna be perfect. Much better than anything Wckd had." I promise as I look at all of them.

"Really?" A girl asks and I nod.

"Mhm, so much better, and you guys can help with building it. You can design your own rooms and pick who you want to share a room with. It's completely up to you." I say, and they all clap and cheer, clearly excited for this promised safe haven I'm talking about, and I hope it'll be as good as I'm making it sound.

"Will you be sharing a room with that boy you were kissing?" A different girl asks with a small 'oooo' rising from all of the other kids.

"Maybe, if he doesn't annoy me." I tell them and they all laugh.

"I used to share a room with him, well more of a hammock, and he always used to steal the blanket from me during the night so I'd wake up freezing." I groan and all the kids continue to laugh.

"Did you get them back!?" One gasps and I nod.

"I pushed him out of the hammock and took all of the blanket for myself." I answer.

Suddenly, I hear an aircraft outside and I run to check it out with Brenda and Frypan, and I realise Jorge has brought our ride, and all the kids quickly run out after us running inside, where we see Vince, and once we've flown near the tunnel we fall back down to the ground waiting for everyone to come, but they don't. So we all run out of the aircraft to see the Wckd city getting burned down.

"We can't stay here Brenda." Jorge states as he turns to her.

"Don't worry, they'll be here." She argues as she shakes her head.

Only seconds later, I hear Teresa's voice ring through the speakers, and I'm practically sick hearing her talk. Even though she helped us get into wckd, I hate her, I don't even listen to what she has to say. I just block her out.

As we get back into the aircraft I play around with the vial of the cure around with my hands, being careful not to drop it, when minho and gally run at the aircraft.

"Where's the serum!?" Minho yells, and I hold it up in my hands, and I instantly know what I have to do, I instantly begin running through the Wckd city, missing bullets only merely and jumping through fire as tears stream down my face, I need to get this back to newt, even if it kills me in the process.

As I twist and turn through alleys and different streets being so close to them, my ankle begins to hurt, as in the ankle I hurt four years ago by now, but I push through it, only to turn the corner and see newt, dead on the floor, Thomas crouched over him.

"No!" I scream as the tears begin to pour harder as I sprint to newts side, dropping to my knees on the floor as I cup newts face with one hand and shake his shoulder with the other.

Thomas says nothing as he stands up and walks away, giving me time to give newt the serum, but it doesn't work. He doesn't wake up and laugh, he doesn't even blink.

"Newt no, please. Please!" I scream as frypan, gally, minho and Brenda surround us.

"Y/n, he's gone." Brenda says from behind me, and I shake my head.

"No please! He's not gone the serum just hasn't kicked in yet." I cry as I continue to shake him.

"Newt, it's me y/n. Please wake up, please." I beg, although it's obvious he's dead, but it was also obvious gally was dead, so why can't newt come back too.

"Y/n, come on we need to go." Minho says through his own tears.

"No, I can't leave him here. What if he wakes up!?" I exclaim, my sadness now turning into anger towards everyone.

"You know he won't y/n, he's dead." Brenda says from behind me.

"He's not fucking dead!" I scream as I continue to shake him, my tears blinding me as everything continues to go blurry, as I feel my body being hoisted up off of the floor.

"Y/N, if we don't go, we're going to be burned alive." Gally says sternly as he throws me over his shoulder.

"Gally, please, no! I can't just leave him here!" I scream as I begin to thresh against gallys hold, but he's too strong.

"Y/n, it's okay." Brenda coos and I shake my head.

"No! You're all sick. You're leaving him here to be killed!" I scream, but I feel someone hit me over the head with something and everything goes black.

When I open my eyes, the room is so painfully bright that I let out a small groan as I shield my eyes from the light as I sit up and take in my surroundings.

"Y/n?" I hear Brenda say from beside me as she begins to stir from a sleep. And I turn my head to the side and see her sitting up and rubbing her eyes, and I realise I'm in a hospital room.

"Where am I?" I ask and she smiles and reaches out to grab my hand.

"We're in the safe haven y/n." She tells me with a large smile, and I just nod before she quickly stands up.

"I should go tell gally you're awake." She says before she runs out, leaving me questioning why my stomach is all bandaged.

When gally walks in, his eyes light up when he sees me.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He gasps as he quickly runs and sits on the edge of the hospital bed, pulling me into a hug whilst being careful of my stomach.

"What happened to my stomach?" I ask as I hug back.

"When you were running to give newt the serum, you got shot. We all noticed, but somehow, you didn't. Your adrenaline was too high. So when you were screaming over newt, making your heart race, it was pumping more blood out, but you still didn't realise." He tells me and I just stare at him and nod.

"I didn't want to knock you out, but I had to. Otherwise, you would've died due to blood loss, im sorry." He frantically tells me, and I sit up and rest my head on his shoulders.

"You saved me gally." I whisper before I gasp, which hurts my stomach, but I shake it off.

"So we're at the safe haven now?!" I exclaim and gally nods as he stands up.

"You want to see hm?" He quizzes before he takes my hand and carefully stands me up before he shows me around the safe haven, and I stop at the rocks with everyone's names carved into it, my heart stopping when I see Newts name, but my eyebrows raise in shock when I see Teresa's name.

"Teresa died?" I ask as I turn to gally.

"Saving Thomas, actually." Gally says as he slings an arm around my shoulder.

"Well shit." I whisper as I begin to feel bad for all of the grief I gave her after she betrayed us, all for her to die saving Thomas.

Suddenly, my eyes fell on minho, and I realised I totally forgot we saved him, so I ran at him full speed, throwing my arms over him in probably one of the tightest hugs ever.

"Careful there." He says as he hugs me back, also being careful of my stomach.

"It's good to see you again." He then tells me with a laugh and I just nod.

As we all sit around the bonfire, all of us, Vince begins to speak.

"We've come along way together. So many people sacrificed so much to make this place possible." He begins.

"Your friends." He continues, and our group all look at each other and smile, all of us nodding in agreement.

"Your family." He adds, and Brenda looks at me, as I turn to face her from infront of her, gally and I sitting infront of her, minho and Thomas and she grabs my hand, and she mouths 'my sister' which brings a few tears to my eyes.

"So here's to the ones that couldn't be here." Vince continues as he raises his glass, and tears begin to spill when I think of newt.

"Here's to the friends we lost." Vince says as I raise my glass high, everyone doing the same.

"This place is for you. it's for all of us." He continues and gally looks at me, and when he realises I'm crying, he wraps an arm around my waist pulling me closer to him.

"But this, this is for them." Vince says as he points at the rocks with everyone's names on them.

"Welcome to the safe haven!" Vince then screams and we all clap and cheer, and from the corner of my eye I see Brenda and Thomas kissing, which makes me snap my head to them, letting out a large 'What!?' Which makes everyone around us laugh, before I taste whatever in my cup, and I let out a massive gasp which takes all the oxygen out of my lungs.

"It's your drink!" I scream to gally, and he nods before pulling me into a deep, meaningful kiss.

"It sure is." He says with a small smile before we go down to the front with Vince and start the massive bonfire, where we all talk and laugh all night, but gally is way more touchy, infact he's toucher than ever tonight.

"You know, we have our own room now, no more sharing a hammock in front of everyone." Gally says once the bonfire has died down and there's hardly any people around us.

"Wait, really?" I ask happily, and he nods.

"Yeah, would you like to see?" He quizzes, and I nod.

"Are you sure you won't mind leaving the bonfire?" He asks and I just shrug.

"Hardly anyone here now anyway." I say, and he grabs my hand and leads me to our room, which I just gawk at.

"Holy shit it's so nice!" I exclaim as I jump on the bed, only paining my stomach a little bit as I smile, and gally copies me, but he grabs my waist and pulls me on top of him, pressing small kisses to my lips.

"Gally." I say with laughs in between kisses, yes sure gally and I have made out before, but this is different, I can tell it is.

And I'm really not complaining.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks as he leans his head into the pillows to break the kisses.

"No." I state as I smile at him.

"Good." He tells me before he flips us around so he's on top of me, which makes me blush, and I slowly feel a pit in my stomach growing, and I feel myself becoming wet.

"God, you're so gorgeous." Gally mumbles before he presses lips against mine, this time not breaking it, and instead, he deepens it by pushing his tongue into my mouth, which causes me to let out a small moan.

I can't remember if I've ever done anything like this before the maze, but if i have, it'd be really weird seeing as I would've been like fourteen or fifteen.

Gally smiles into the kiss as his hand slides under my shirt and makes its way to my bra, where he gently gropes my tits through the fabric of the bra, which only makes my moans slightly louder.

"You like that, hm?" Gally quizzes with a small chuckle before his lips make their way to my neck, as he begins to suck and bite it gently.

"Oh my god, gally." I groan as I wrap one of my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, but he's clearly still being careful of my stomach.

When gally stops kissing my neck, he looks up at me as he takes his hands off of my tits as it makes its way down to the button of my jeans, and I quickly kick off the sliders I'm now wearing, god knows where my trainers are because I wasn't even wearing this outfit when I last remember being awake.

"I missed you so much, yknow, not a day went by that I didn't think of you." Gally tells me as he unbuttons my jeans and unzips them, my breath hitching when he begins to pull them down my legs, his eyes not leaving mine.

"I always thought of you every day. I knee you were alive." I say to him, and he smiles at me.

"Oh yeah? What did you think about?" He asks before he pulls down my pants and slowly presses a finger to my clit, gently rubbing circles on it.

"Oh god- I thought of us. What would've happened between us if you lived." I tell him, moaning after almost every word, I'm a full virgin, like I've not ever even touched myself, I mean, how could I? I've never been left alone.

"Oh? What would've happened if i made it out with you guys?" He teases as he raises one of his fingers to his own mouth and carefully sucks it, before he slowly slides it into me.

"I had always thought that we could've got married or some shit, no matter how fucked the world was." I tell him with a small laugh and he smiles as he slowly begins to slide his finger in and out of me, causing me to turn into a moaning mess.

"And what about this? Did you ever think about us doing this?" Gally teases as he adds another finger into me, causing me to throw my head back into the pillow.

"Yes, oh fuck yes." I cry as his fingers reach deeper into me and its true.

"When?" He asks with a small smirk.

"All the time at night in the glade, I used to think about us sneaking into the deadheads and just doing it there, and then the night where I first saw you again I wanted you there and then." I tell him.

"Awh." He coos before he kisses me, and I shake my head and break the kiss.

"Gally, I want you." I whine, and he smirks at me as he pulls his two fingers out of me and sliding them into his own mouth, still maintaining eyecontact with me as he removes his fingers from his mouth, and his hands begin to work on his belt, but I swat his hands away and begin to unbuckle his belt myself, and once his belts fully gone, I take off his jeans, and then his boxers, and I audibly gasp when I see his cock.

I always knew gally was big, we had changed infront of each other before and I always saw the outline of his cock against his boxers, but now that its there infront of me, I'm gobsmacked.

"If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, just tell me." Gally warns and I nod as I lean back into the pillows and spread my legs as gally positions himself ontop of me as he begins to position his cock directly with my enterance.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?" Gally asks, and I carefully grab his face and nod.

"I'm sure gally." I promise and he nods before he slowly begins to push his cock into me, and I bite down hard on my lip.

It hurts. Don't get me wrong. But it feels absolutely perfect. I squeeze my eyes shut once he's fully inside of me, and I let out small moans when he lets out a small grunt.

"Is this okay?" He asks, and I moan and nod as he begins to thrust in and out of me.

"Fuck, it feels perfect gally, faster please." I beg and I watch as he nods as he begins to thurst faster into me, reaching deeper each time which sends me into full bliss.

"Do you know how much I thought about this?" Gally groans as he continues to thrust into me, going at a pace that's comfortable for both of us, and it's absolutely perfect, I stare at gally with a smile as I continue to moan, my eyes not leaving him.

"My handsome boy." I quietly say to him, and he looks at me with lit up eyes.

"You think I'm handsome?" He asks, his thrusts getting slightly faster.

"I think you're the best-looking boy to ever exist, gally." I tell him truthfully, and he presses a hand next to my head on the pillow as he stares down into my eyes, he's sweating slightly now.

"I think you're the most beautiful girl. Nobody could compare to you." He states and I smile weakly, his words pushing me over the edge as I come undone, gally quickly groaning and pulling out just intime to cum on my stomach.

"I love you gally." I sigh as he presses his forehead against mine.

"I love you too. I'll love you forever." He promises with a weak kiss to my lips.

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

Want to support me? Please consider donating to or commissioning me through my Ko-Fi, I would really appreciate it! 💕​

[rafeandonlyrafe]

m.i.a.

words: 900

warnings: mentions of violence/murder but it is not serious, rafe being kind of controlling but mainly freaking out

“can you get your nose out of your phone country club?” barry asks, as rafe has them pull over yet again on their ride to the other side of the island.

“y/n hasn’t responded yet, i’m fucking worried man, she never takes this long to reply to my text.” rafe knew that you were planning on surfing with a couple of your friends, but you sent him a text saying that you got home three hours ago, and you haven’t responded since. 

“maybe she’s too busy with another dude.” barry says with a laugh, but then catches rafes worried face, “man, i’m messing with you. she’s crazy in love with you, maybe her phone just died.”

“yeah, maybe.” rafe sighs, pushing the phone into his pocket. “lets ride.” he doesn’t mention to barry that your house is on this side of the island and after they finish their business that he’s stopping by.

rafe puts his helmet back on as they take off, sour look on his face as his mind runs through the scenarios of what you might be doing. barry rolls his eyes, knowing the quick job they were supposed to do is now going to be a lot more complicated with rafe being all grumpy.

“i’m gonna kill whoever she is with.” rafe says when they stop at the house they’re supposed to pick up some money from.

“rafe!” barry groans. “focus on the job. this dude is giving us half up front, the other half when we deliver the product. don’t fuck anything up.”

“how can i fuck up him handing over some money?” rafe sets his helmet down on his bike seat. “come on, i just want to hurry up and get it over with, i need to go to y/ns house.”

“alright, man.” barry rolls his eyes, heading towards the house. rafe is silent for the entire handover, brooding in the corner, occasionally pulling out his phone to send you a text.

“i think you scared the crap out of him.” barry says as they leave, getting back on their bikes. “do you want me to come with you to y/ns?” 

“yeah. if someone is there with her you can fucking shoot him.” rafe revs his bike before taking off.

barry sighs, knowing rafe is overreacting, but can’t get out of the cycle of anger thats spiraling in his head. he follows close behind, only a short ride to your house, a cottage right on the water that got passed down to you from your grandma. 

“no other car in the driveway.” rafe observes, parking his bike right behind your jeep. “of course not. i’m telling you man, she’s head over heels for you, she’s not cheating.” barry says, heading to the door right behind rafe. 

rafe takes his keys out of his pocket, opening your front door with the key you gifted to him on your one year anniversary, giving him access to your house whenever he wants.

“living room clear.” barry says.

“we’re not fucking cops.” rafe says, heading right towards your bedroom. he pushes the door open, stopping when he sees you laying on your bed, phone abandoned on your nightstand, eyes closed as you nap.

“aww, my baby.” all of the worries going on in rafes head are completely gone, seeing that you’ve simply fallen asleep, not ignored or cheated on him. 

you move in your sleep, adjusting to lay on your side. rafe moves to the side of your bed, needing to be close to you after all the worry that went through his head.

“hey, honey.” rafe places his hand on your cheek, rubbing it gently.

your eyes flutter open, taking in rafes face. “rafey.” you go to sit up, but rafe stops you. “i- i didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry.” 

“it’s okay, honey.” rafe kisses you gently, “you must have been tired after surfing, huh?”

you go to reply when you realize you’re not alone in the room, startling slightly as your eyes land on barry. “oh!” you press a hand to your chest. “hi barry!”

“hi y/n.” he looks to rafe. “told you, country club. see you tomorrow.” barry walks out of your room, closing the door behind him.

“told you what?” you ask as rafe slips off his shoes, climbing into bed with you.

“oh, it’s nothing.” rafe says, but you can tell from his tone that something is off. “what?” you giggle, slinging your leg over his waist, snuggling in close.

“i just… kinda freaked out when you didn’t answer your phone.” rafe admits, wrapping an arm around your shoulders so you can rest your head against his chest.

“you didn’t think i was cheating on you, did you?” you laugh, but instantly shut your mouth seeing that rafe frowns. “baby!” you sit up slightly. “you really think i would do that to you?”

“no, i don’t.” rafe pulls you back to laying down. “i was just thinking of the worst case scenario.” 

“well, i would never do that to you honey.” you kiss him deeply, but have to pull away to yawn. “i was just sleepy.”

“aww, my sleepy baby.” rafe laughs. “wanna keep napping? i’ll stay here.”

“you sure? you’re all done with barry?” you ask, but pull the blanket over your bodies and close your ask. “yes, and even if i wasn’t, you come first.”

you giggle, “thank you honey… can we spoon?”

[captain-n-crunchies]

Miles 42 Headcannons ( We got a man yall 🤭🤭

Miles 42x Black Reader

OK first off, THIS IS A 15/16 YEAR OLD CHILD HE BROKE AS HELL

Like he not broke broke but, hell shadow box for $5 and win ts. To me I feel he got a little money saved form how his dad taught his savings, and he got a back account because remember he's like a hitman he gets paid, but he's not like rich enough to the point he buys you like Rolex watches, Catier, Dior vintage bags from the 70's spring collection.

Next, I feel like to me evry says hes like some bad boy to me i just think hes troubled but, hes a good kid. In the first movie Miles acted the same way and in the second movie he's more mature I feel like Miles-42 matured faster since his dad died; he could never play with action figures when no action was taken to save his dad

It very sad how they describe him in fics as like a drug dealer bad kid when really, I think he's just a matured yet still goofy version of Miles like imagine Hobie attitude with miles it practically the same!

Also, more on the dating side of things Miles-42 I believe would not trust his s/o til 3 months later or even more. Miles-42 is a hitman, and he may have been taught people are going to burn your bridge when they have the chance so, Miles stays clear of really revealing his inner turmoil's til he can fully trust you.

But, when Miles does open up he's like a little flower all nice and smells good yet can still have you in the bed sick and tired if tried hard enough, I feel like his emotions would turn more gentler like he wasn't neglecting you but he kind of was condescending when you show a lot of affection and until you prove your real, hell just make the relationship picture worthy and not living worthy.

But an opinion I know people would say is true is that Miles both of them cannot flirt. Remember than most likely Miles-42 dad and Miles-1160 uncle died at or around the same time which means they both experienced the same ' I almost messed up my chances with this cool girl because my uncle/dad didn't teach me how to be a smooth criminal' but to me with how he put his hand on Miles-1160 shoulder..that man had one girlfriend in the 5th grade and he's been feelin himself since then.

Now before you two started dating you have crushes, Miles didn't have many crushes to my idea. I feel like he didn't see it like he thought of kids as friends and if he did like smb it would be like quick and over with simply because he would try to be friends more.

Like imagine you tryna shoot your shot with him and he just asks you what your favorite power ranger...that what I mage would happen but he's 15/16 so instead it him saying ' cool but, not interested' like he's not rude about it but, you would feel he not messin with you,

Buttt if he does have like a real crush on you, I feel like he would try to get to know you by socials than irl, like asking Ganke can he ask for your socials and then following you and from there trying bag you by cheesy but smooth texts. He would ask about your day, what was the homework, what clubs you do ask a conversation starter but, if you feelin him hell asking about music because I feel like Miles-42 and Miles-1160 both have a music bone in them, and you know Miles-42 listens to good music (won't ever catch him listening to mf Lil Pump ass) I also feel like Miles would ask about pop culture opinions to see how you are as a person like do you watch any popular tv shows? Ohhhh your favorite is Greys Anatomy... so you have nothing to do in your time? That what hell thinks.

My last little head cannon is more of what he would do if Ms. Rio liked you, which because he respectful baddies she likes us quickly, so What would miles do if Rio likes us 🧐

First, Miles wouldn't tell but shell know simply because Miles never smiles at a text, it doesn't matter if he won $128302 million, he not smiling until he met our lovely baddie reader now, he is giggling and kicking his feet. To Ms. Rio that's not normal, it gives her a sense of his old self and she doesn't pry into his social like a helicopter parent but, she doesn't take a peek over his shoulder and when Miles does get the courage to tell her she just smiling acting like she aint know.

Miles seeing his mom like would take a big relief off his shoulders because he thought about the reddit stories where the mom is crazy and now, he thinks his momma gonna run us over with a truck and blame it on the next-door neighbor (true miles fashion)

His mom liking you also lets him know he picked the right one, mothers know best when it comes to fake people for some odd reason and if Rio didn't side-eye you when she met you then your good and he's inviting you to his house more often. I'm not going to talking about Uncle Aaron because I feel like they not as close like that but that a head cannon for a sad day.

But, at the end of the day Miles wants us bad 🤭🤭

[cameronspecial]

I was recently rewatching OBX S3 and realized we never saw Rafe’s reaction to Ward dying. So my request for you is to write a Rafe x reader where the reader was there when Ward died and had to tell him. They already had a sort of close relationship. Childhood friends/friend’s brother type idk. Anyway, thanks <3

Dead Dad Club

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Dead Dads

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N couldn’t believe it happened. She never thought that when her best friend, the Pogues and she went to South America, she would watch her best friend and ex-boyfriend’s father die to protect them. However, that’s how she finds herself in front of Tannyhill, which now, belongs to Rafe because of the un-fake version of Ward’s death. She should be the one to tell him; she has to be the one to tell him. Because after everything he has done, she is the only one (other than Wheezie, who even though she loves him, favours Sarah) who holds any love for him. She knows he beat up Shrieff Peterkin and hurt Sarah, but she can still see the Rafe she used to love and she knows he still loves her. He made it clear when he did everything to protect her during her and the Pogues' escape from the cargo ship. 

Her knock sounds hollow as her heartbeat blasts in her ear. She sees his figure through the glass door. She’ll never get used to his shaved head. His mouth puckers at the sight of her and he shifts to the side to see behind her. “When did you get back? Is my dad with you?” She grimaces, “That’s what I came here to talk to you about. Let’s  go to the living room.” He nods, holding her by the fingertips as he leads her to the couch. They sit and turn to face each other. Their knees graze. She bites her lower lip to keep her tears in. He needs her to be strong right now. “Pumpkin, where is my dad?” She lets out a breath and the words spill out of her. “Your dad died in Venezuela. He ran towards a man trying to shoot Sarah and fell off a cliff.” Rafe freezes and his face whitens. The room grows quiet. “No,” he whispers. “No. No. No.” His voice begins to rise and he stands up to pass around the room. He whips toward her with a finger pointed at her and tears streaming down his face. “YOU ARE LYING. HE ISN’T DEAD. WHY ARE YOU LYING?” The sight of him breaks the dam holding back her own tears.

She cries, “I’m not, Baby, I’m not. I’m so sorry, but I saw his body with my own eyes. He goes through the first two stages of grief and goes right into bargaining. “If I had been there, I could’ve saved him. I should’ve taken him. I should’ve been there. God, please, I’ll do anything for this to be a lie.” He breaks down right before her and she rushes as he collapses into her arms. She drops to the floor with him, resting his head on her chest. “I know. I’m sorry, Baby. I wish I could say that I am lying,” she whispers to him, kissing his temple. His breathing begins to even out as he starts to remember the last time they talked before he dropped his dad off at the private jet. He wouldn’t leave the cross for her and he pointed a gun at her friends. 

“Why are you here? Why are you the one telling me this?” he questions. He looks up at her and she smooths down the hair at his nape. She kisses his forehead, “You were there for me when my dad died, so it’s my turn to be there for you. Plus, you deserve to have someone who loves you around right now.” He shows his gratitude by dropping his head into her chest and kissing the spot between her collarbones. For the rest of the afternoon, they helped each other grieve.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[miserable-sarah]

Sammy

Pairings: Sam X Reader

Warnings: None

Requested

"Oh Sam would be so mad if you called him that" Dean chuckles at you shaking his head

"I don't think he would, he actually likes me" You tease

Dean looks at you "Hey! He likes me too, I'm his brother" He says holding his chest like you hurt him.

"yeah but he really likes me" You give him a wink

"Oh my" Dean shakes his head "Will you two just start dating already" You and Sam have a back and forth game going on, you flirt with each other, you guys compliment each other all the time, You both try to save each others ass' on hunts, it's clear you both like each other but you don't want to ruin anything so you don't say anything. You're not sure why Sam won't say anything but if you had to guess it's probably because every time he got with someone they died, or were just bad. You don't rust it and to be honest you like the way things are at the moment.

"Y/n! you're doing the weird stare at nothing thing again" Dean says snapping you out of your thoughts

"Oh sorry" You say "Shouldn't Sammy be back?" You ask

"That's it, I dare you to call him that. To his face" Dean folds his arms across his chest with a smirk on his lips.

"Deal" You shrug wearing a confident smile. "I bet he won't mind at all" You both hear the door creak, you and Dean look at each other then look at Sam who is walking down the stairs with food.

"Hey guys" Sam huffs "Who's hungry?" Dean shoots up and grabs his food sitting at the table. Dean looks happy. You and Sam smile at Dean laughing a little.

"Thanks for going" You smile at him

"Of course, anything for you" He winks. Sam hands you whatever he got you and pulled out your chair so you could sit. You lock eyes with Dean for a second. You smirk at him.

"Thank you Sammy." you say to him loudly. Dean stops chewing, his eyes going big. He was nervous about Sam's reaction. Sam sits down next to you smiling, and blushing.

"You're welcome" He says quietly.

"Samm-" Dean gets cut off

"Dean, don't" Sam shakes his head at him. You giggle watching Dean's reaction, the poor man is so confused.

"But she-"

"Because I like her" Sam smiles.

"Because I like her" Dean mocks him quietly. You can't help but laugh at Dean.

[ratcash-wasgud]

Heeyyy!! Lol, sorry if this came out a little short, I didn't have much time. Plus I'm sorry if I'm doing this incorrectly, i'm still very new to tumblr. Also, this one will have sugestive themes (not flat out smut lmao), so watch out if you're not comfortable with those. And sorry for the possible spelling mistakes too lol

Like swimming in the sunset /part two/

Mizu felt an aching in her head when her eyes opened once again, one she grew quite familiar with over her journey. She reached for her sword out of instinct, but it wasn't at her hip. She tried sitting up quickly, maybe even too quickly as a sharp pain striked into her side. Her vision was blurry as she glanced around the room, and took in it's emptiness. A sudden bitter, but kind of calming feeling washed over her as she recognized the room she grew up in. It was the same, which made a small tinge of relief awaken in her heart. She noticed her sword was lying next to the futon she was sitting on, and quickly gripped it as she weakly stood up and stumbled out of the house. Outside, she was met with Taigen chatting with...a familiar figure.

You.

Mizu felt a pang in her chest. It was...strange, seeing you after so long. Question flood through her head. First off, you were alive, which made her feel relieved, but on the other hand...she hasn't seen you for years, and she knows how people change. She remembers how you were, but are you still that kid she grew so close to? She stood there for a couple moments before Taigen notcied her and gave her a scoff. You turned in her direction too, and for the first time in so long, Mizu felt...nervous. She felt the tips of her fingers numbing, her blood pumping slightly, and she had to gulp. When you saw her your lips curled into a small smile...a sweet one. That same smile that brightened her days all those years ago.

You looked different. Your features matured, your skin had a different tint from the sunlight, your form grew taller and your eyes...well, those stayed very familiar to Mizu. Warm...they were still warm.

"Mizu," You stepped forward and said gently. Your voice changed a little bit too, and even though it shouldn't have surprised her, you grew up, it did. "You woke up. What a relief." You said, putting your weight onto one leg, and a lighthearted smile. Mizu just lowered her gaze and shrugged a little.

"You need more to take me down." She said and she stepped forwad, which you rewarded with a small chuckle. She took a better look at what you two were doing, and it seemed like you were about to light a campfire. There were coal stains on your fingers...the same fingers she never let do hard work back in the day... and there were stains on Taigen's haori too, on his shoulder...was it because you touched his shoulder? Was it affectionately, or was it a playful bump? Did you smiled at him as you did it? Was is the sweet smile she always gets?

Mizu had to shake her head to shoo those thoughs away. Was she so overwhelmed to get lost in details like this? She never thought like this, so why now...

"Taigen told me he knew you when you were small." You say with a small smile, and shoot Taigen an eye roll. Mizu shrudders at this. Like Taigen would ever talk about her with compassion, and just the thought of the you hearing that spiteful talk that came out of his mouth about her...Mizu clenched her teeth as she showed both of you aside to crouch down and start lighting the campfire.

You softly sighed, and crouched next to her, and after reaching into your kimono, you opened your palm to her, revealing...a piece of candy. This flooded Mizu's mind with memories of you and her sharing candy, and the fact that candy was the reason she managed to "reconcile" with you when you two were kids. She cracked a half smile and took the candy, popping it into her mouth.

Taigen broke the moment with a clearing of his throat. "I...am also glad you woke up. I was starting to expect you died or something." He says, but not maliciously this time...it was even a little playful. "I need you in the best condition, so that I can beat you with honor." He says and he scoffs, and Mizu just rolls her eyes in response but she herself cracks a small smile. As Taigen busies himself with cutting wood, Mizu takes a deep breath and speaks up.

"I thought you were dead." She says, deadpan. This draws a bitter smile from you.

"I thought I was gonna die too." You say softly, like it's no bid deal. Like the whole thing didn't ruin her years. "But now I'm here." You say, moving your gaze to the sparks flying between Mizu's hand she lights the fire. You hear her sigh again. "You're just as grumpy as I remember." You try to joke, in hopes of lighting the mood.

"When did you get back?" She asks, unfazed by your attempt.

"When I arrived Grandpa Eiji told me that you just left, and that could mean anything." You say lightheartedly. It came to Mizu's attention that you took things more easy now. You haven't puffed, or shied away. "He told me you went on a quest. Honestly I was quite happy." You say, as you sit down in the cold grass, because your knees went tired from crouching.

Happy? Mizu's eyes squinted at her own hands. Why were you happy that she left? Were you relieved that you didn't have to face her? Did you want her to keep believing that you're dead?

"I knew you went on to calm something inside you. I always thought that you will one day, so I was relieved I wasn't there for the bitter goodbyes." You says, her smile softening into something genuine.

At that, Mizu cracked a smile. "If you would've been there, you would've begged me to stay." She says, glancing at you, and the gilnt in her eyes is a little smug. Almost cocky.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But I know your quest is not done." You sigh and lean back on your arms, looking at the sky, which is uncommonly clear. "You will leave once again, won't you?"

Mizu looks back at her hands, and blows on the sparks, giving life to the fire. After some moments of silence, she speaks up, stoic once more. "I have to. I will not rest until I finish what I started."

You snicker. "Yeah, I know that. You're as stubborn as ever." You say, playfully tapping her knee with yours. "But that's alright. You'll survive, and then you'll come back." You say confidently.

"I will?" It slips out from Mizu's lips withouth thinking.

"You will." You answer withouth hesitation. "After all," You start as your eyes meet hers. "They need much more to take you down."

That draws a small smile from Mizu, one you return. The following moments are spent with you and her just looking at eachother, and all she sees is your smile. It's a vulnerable moment for Mizu, something she always manages to avoid, but something is different now. She feels...something fluttering inside her. Something she felt long ago once, when she was by Mikio's side, but...this cannot be the same. Even if you don't know that, she is a woman, just like you. You were her family back in the day, almost like a sister so why...why is she longing to feel your touch so suddenly?

Sure, she always liked to be near you, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, since you were the first kid to be nice to her, and her first ever friend. Does she feel for you as she'd feel for a true friend? Not like she'd ever know how to feel for a true friend, this is her first time, but...it still bothers her. You move in and out of her life on a whim, how does she know she will see you again once you get out of her sight once more? And she remembers where that fluttering feeling took her when she had a husband, so it wouldn't be wise to embrace it again. You probably won't even return it, since even if you did...you would be for the man she's pretending to be.

And she's pulled out of her train of thought when you stand up from next to her. "Your friend is nice." You say suddenly, wanting to change the topic. Mizu's brows furrow. "You mean Taigen?" She asks, scoffing.

"No, no. Ringo." You say with a chuckle. "He's very skilled. He helped me make dinner yesterday, and he is currently chopping vegetables for today's meal." You say, nudging your head towards Ringo, who is chopping vegetables on a log. That leaves a bitter taste in Mizu's mouth, remembering how Ringo is still mad at her...or even hates her entirely. "Yeah...he's useful." She murmurs, and goes to throw wood at the fire while glancing at your form as you walk away. She sees you kneel beside him and show him how to peal carrots in a more efficent way, and she...isn't sure how to feel.

Mizu expected almost everything at this point in her journey, but the last thing she thought will happen...is that she'll be in war with her own emotions.

She spends the rest of the day quietly, just...watching things happen in silence. She sees Taigen sitting next to you at dinner, and how you two giggle together. She hates seeing it. It's not like she hates seeing you giggle, she just...hates seeing you giggle with him. Taigen is a moron, why can't you see that? Plus, you only known him for like a day and a half so...why are you talking to him, not Mizu, the one who's your actualy childhood friend?

The next day, after staring at her broken sword for a couple minutes, and thinking about how to ask Eiji to help her make a new one, she heads outside, and she sees you with Ringo. You're making new bands for his stumps, so he could hold things better, and she sees you smiling at him softly as you do. You're caring, that one she knew ever since she was 13 years old...but for some reason, she thought you were only this caring towards her. It burns her insides seeing you act so sweet towards others...men, to be specific. Mizu knows you also see her as a man, but knowing you're also this tender with people who could actually be love interests in your life...people who'd be normal if you wanted to marry, or...people who could possibly please you...it's eating Mizu alive for some reason.

She can't be acting like this, she needs to cool her head. So, she decides to go and have a bath.

There is a warm water source near by, one she used to visit a lot when she was a child. She heads there, and before making sure that nobody is near, she slips out of her clothes and submerges her body into the water. She feels her wounds sting for a minute, but she quickly gets used to it, and leans back against a rock. It's peaceful. She looks down at her wounds, and they're treated nicely. The deep ones are swen together, and the burns are bandaged with care. She knows this a work of your hand, you probbaly did it while she was unconcious...you always treated her this softly when you were kids too.

As she sits there, her eyes slowly fluttering closed, she suddenly sees you behind her eyelids. How would it be like if you were here with her? She never saw your...body before. Do you have scars on your delicate skin? Do you have birthmarks on your back?

Is your skin as soft as she imagines it to be? How would it feel if you...touched her, with that precious hand of yours? Maybe...maybe you'd slowly glide your hand along her jawline, down her neck, across her collarbones...Maybe you'd pay close attention to her scars, and caress them one by one, trace them with your fingertips. Maybe you'd even place your soft lips on one of them... Mizu shivers. She feels so...wrong thinking about this, but it's certainly hard to stop. She hates it that even just this mental image makes her a little happy.

Her imagination forces even more pictures about you into her head, no matter how much she tries to protest. She sees you slowly moving closer, placing yourself in her lap as you two sit in the water. Oh, how nicely you'd fit there...and how soft you'd feel. She'd place her hands on your waist, maybe even let them slip lower to your hips and thighs as you'd play with her hair and push your body against hers, your breasts meeting hers while her hands would circle around your thighs, slowly finding-

Mizu sugmerges her face and lets out a loud scream into the water. What is she even doing? How could she let herself sink this low? Oh, she can just see the look on your face if you'd ever found out about her thinking like this...you'd be utterly disgusted! She needs to be rid of these thoughs anyways, she needs to snap her mind back to her quest. She'll leave this place as soon as her wounds heal, so it would be foolish to get comfortable here...even if it's temping.

But now, she has something that will motivate her to actually come back from her journey one day.

[amarmoria]

Sempiternal 111

Yao x Reader

Synopsis: 10 days in some spa center with your family wouldn't be too bad right...?

Notes: to the person who gave me an idea for the 3rd part, i luv u sm, i didn't reply to your ask since i didn't want to spoil it, ill probs answer it after I post this🤭

Previous | Next

Ugh fuck.

Fuck you and your imagination. This is why you stopped watching documentaries. You can't face him like this, no way, you should just jump off the balcony and run away, you ran your mouth over something so, so childish— you sound like one, now he probably thinks you're weird, if he heard you that is, no.. he def did, he def did..

You groaned and clenched your fists as your family neared the circular, brown hut. The staff had reminded the guests earlier when they arrived to rendezvous to the meeting place to officially start this experience, and familiarize yourselves with the other occupants which your mom didn't appreciate very much.

Though on the other hand, you yourself were really happy to commune with other people aside from your family, it felt suffocating around your parents, they're always bickering, blaming, the tension was always there even if you didn't hear it, so the mention of other people makes your tummy flutter in a good way.

Meeting new people was good, your family's therapist says, it's another way to cope with everything lately. You trudged your way as you hear chatter from inside, your eyes immediately centering on a curly haired woman, she shoots you a smile in which you return, the chatter kinda died down when you went in, now the atmosphere was awkward because everyone was looking at you, the walk to your family's circles felt like ages, you were thankful to the lady who resumed talking to the person beside her, you remember her from earlier when you guys went in, the first guest you met, you wonder if you've seen her somewhere, she looked so familiar.

You didn't pay attention to the adult's conversation, talking about how long this was going to start, or if this was reverse psychology in making the guests commune with each other to familiarize themselves with their fellow patients, you heard your mom complain once again although you didn't care enough to answer, the sun was already starting to die down, light orange hues traverse the hut when the blonde haired woman entered. Everyone was already quiet, your eyes landed on the person you thought you could escape.

"Welcome to Tranquillum House." She pauses, scanning the faces of her new subjects. "Right now, you're at the foot of a mountain."

Her voice blurs in your ears when your focus centers on Yao, gosh, I wonder what would happen if he were to catch you looking. You gulp a big fat saliva and accidentally let out a cough, fuck, you let your eyes wander to the floor when the hut stills, out of anywhere you really had to cough in here, are they looking at you? No maybe it's something else, no, they are, they're looking at you.

You clear your throat, adjusting your crooked top that you kept fiddling with earlier.

"— as I was saying.."

You let out a deep breath, quietly this time, one more event and you're out of here, this place has brought out everything within you than ever in all the years you've been living.

Your eyes fluttered forward once again, regaining the little bit of confidence you tried to muster, that's when you realized Yao was already looking at you.

You stilled, your breath stuck in your throat.

Why is he smirking..

He tilted his head slightly, seemingly teasing you, your eyebrows furrowed as you reciprocated, you mouth a small 'what', although you didn't get to see his response when Masha suddenly blocked your vision from him.

"Isn't that right, my little bee?"

You shook your head and focused on Masha, she was right in front of you, you can see your mom on your far left trying to move close to you but your dad quickly stops her.

"Huh, wha, I," and your back to fiddling with your top, you heard Masha chuckle, gently placing her hand on your shoulder. "W-what, what was the question..?"

"Silly bee, I didn't ask a question"

"Then what is, I mean, you—"

"You're a nervous little thing are you?"

"I-I'm not, it's.."

"Don't worry, I'm not here to lecture you," her laugh is warm, honey, like the place, she looks like the place, maybe you're biased because she does own it.

"I was a little girl,"

"And I was riding my bicycle"

"Reconnecting with joy," she finally lets go of you after staring into your soul, your eyes flicker back to the man, but his eyes were somewhere else, good, you hope you won't ever talk or be near him after this. "and innocence—"

"Excuse me!" Your mom takes a step forward. "This is not appropriate"

"I decide what is appropriate"

"You know our story"

"Mom—" you try and stop her, but she raises a finger at you, immediately shutting you up. "Death will not be your story"

You felt your sister freeze beside you, you looked back at her worriedly, her eyes were full, brimming of tears.

"Zo.."

"I'm sorry."

You watch her bump your shoulder as she runs outside the tent, you were about to run after her when the woman your mother had an argument during your arrival gently held your shoulder and nodded at you, you let her, maybe it's better for her to take a break from your god forsaken family for once.

The dispute behind you was deaf to your ears, it hasn't even been a day and your mom had already fucked up the first impressions, so great for wanting to heal then.

You feel your throat closing in, ugh not again. You bit your tongue and hurriedly left the tent, your ears were alarmingly ringing too loud than before, you wonder what caused it to react like this, you hastily try to fish for something in your pockets, please please please, you search your body, even tapping your butt if it was there.

Fuck, where did you put it?

The longer you try to find it, the more blurred your eyes were, the ringing was already more than deafening, ear-splitting is the right word, you took a big left earlier to avoid Zoe seeing you like this, you didn't want her to worry, she just has to think about herself, so your surrounded by tall bamboo trees in the middle of nowhere, great, but you don't know that, because you're hear tryna breath, see, hear, everything, tryna make everything normal again.

That's when you hear a crunch of leaves behind you.

"Miss Marconi..?"

Ugh, not him..

"Y-you left this.."

You don't turn around, only hiding your face, he holds out a white container you knew too well. Your eyes widen and quickly grab it, he stays behind as you try to pry the annoying cap off, why was this twice as harder to open than it is?!

One of your nails accidentally breaks from the pressure, though it didn't hurt because it was the long one, you didn't pay attention to it, just busy trying to open the goddamn medicine.

A hand suddenly shoots out to grab the container. "Let me."

It wasn't a question, the words in your mouth die on your tongue as he easily broke off the lid, handing you a couple, you wonder how he knew how many pills you took, you didn't add them to your registration in fear of your parents, but that was the least of your concerns, your threw them in your mouth like your life depended on it, it did.

A few seconds pass and you let out a deep breath, and inhaled a bigger one too, the ringing of your ears stopped, and your eyesight was back to normal, you would've sported a little smile after that, patting yourself on the back like a crazy person if not for the warm body still next to you.

That's when you realize he's still there, Yao, had he not been there, your parents would have gotten two reasons for coming here.

You gulp and fix your hair, your face heats up at the thought of him seeing you run around like a mental patient, but you assume he's already seen this many times, maybe that's why he knew how much to give you.

"I—"

"Are you—"

You pause, biting your lip, gosh how many more embarrassing things should you check off your list?

No one spoke for the next few seconds, but you could feel him staring you down. Oh so now you're branded as crazy, weirdo who just had an episode in the middle of nowhere during a retreat, you scratch your head at the thought.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm, it's.. I'm sorry," you pinch your arm, your eyes focusing on the dirt than looking at him.

"Don't be sorry, Bee" you frown at the nickname, why do they even call you that. "It's, you didn't have to, to see that I—"

"If i wasn't there would you have even opened this? Or even find it in the first place?"

You shut your mouth, he's right, you owe him your life, but you don't tell him, he might use it as leverage somewhere.

"I'm sorry," he quickly mumbled, fiddling with the container, the cap was now abandoned on the floor, the half empty pills exposed to the world.

"Will.." you pause, biting the inside of your cheek. "Will you tell my family? About, about what happened?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, maybe trying to read you.

"Do you want me to?"

You thought for a moment, you didn't want to burden him, but you also didn't want this as blackmail, anything can happen, but when you look up, eyes catching his, it's not filled with malice, or anything.. of sorts.

"No, don't, don't tell them.. please"

You don't see the twitch on the corners of his eyes.

"Yes," You frown at the lack of noise, then you see him reaching over to his small beige cloth bag, he pulls out a smaller drawstring pouch, color beige obvi, he dumps your pills in it, throwing the hospital colored container and handing you the new one.

"Here, an apology for breaking the old one"

"You didn't have to—"

"We do, we have to take care of our guests like family, so you don't have to worry about it."

You held onto the pouch and looked up at him, and like before, he was already looking at you. "Thank you, Yao"

"Anything for the guest"

The more chapters i make, the longer every chapter gets. ANYWAYS, two chapters posted this weeknd?! Miracle😧

[riverbutghost]

All Alone (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley xGN!Reader)

Summary: After an unsuccessful mission and you getting scolded by your lieutenant, you’re left all alone by yourself feeling depressed for the first time.

A/N: This is my first post ever on Tumblr lol I’m excited.

Categories: this is Angst / Hurt Comfort and the ending isn’t sad but isn’t happy either.

Warnings: graphic language, wound, blood, getting shot but nothing fatal, slight sexual themes, also the readers nickname is Scout.

You were exhausted.

The mission had gone wrong, making all of you to take a step back. And it was probably your fault.

“I’m going after that guy!” You yelled through your comm. Then Ghost’s voice was heard.

“Don’t do something stupid, Scout.”

But you had already done the stupid something.

You didn’t see it. You didn’t see the guy who was holding a gun to you from behind. It was Soap who saw it and informed you but it was too late.

You turned around quickly while pointing your gun, but the guy shot you in the arm. You gasped loudly at the sudden pain. You could’ve shot the man too, but a stupid little mistake was made. You couldn’t shoot him, you couldn’t move your arm. He ran and called for reinforcements.

And boom, the mission failed because of you.

On other circumstances, you wouldn’t mind being yelled at, but you weren’t feeling yourself. You weren’t Scout who would tell everyone to fuck off.

Even before the mission, you weren’t yourself. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, but you weren’t there. You didn’t mind it, but it costed you a whole mission.

You didn’t see your lieutenant after the incident, only seeing his back where he was sitting in the front of the truck. He didn’t say a word and it was painful. You were scared because that happened before too.

_

You had done something reckless again, almost getting shot at the head.

But you were lucky.

“You’re so fucking reckless, Scout.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’m not sorry Ghost.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“But I did, and I take the blame. So fuck off-“

In two steps, he was in front of you. He pushed you against the wall. Your breath hitched.

“When will you shut that stupid mouth of yours?”

Your lips parted involuntarily. Ghost’s eyes flicked down to your lips.

You closed your mouth and swallowed everything down. Every little witty remark.

Your eyes went back and forth between his eyes and his mouth.

He looked at your eyes again and his gaze softened.

You licked your lips. He took a breath.

“Don’t tempt me, Scout.” You gulped again. His voice was hoarse, his chest rumbled. Your skin was suddenly burning.

“I’m not trying to, Ghost.”

Your breaths were shallow, unorganized. You wanted to see his face, see his mind. What was he thinking?

You looked deep in his eyes. Suddenly, you found another emotion, sadness. Then there was guilt maybe. He swallowed whatever he was going to say.

You kept quiet. He was quiet too. You were just staring at each other, not feeling any discomfort even though you weren’t in a comfortable position.

“You could’ve fuckin’ died.” His voice came out as a whisper. His gaze dropped for a second. You shivered.

“Ghost, Price is calling for you!”

A sudden call from Gaz was the interruption you didn’t want.

“Comin’” He called to Gaz, still looking at your eyes. He cleared his throat. He took a step back and turned around, leaving you in the kitchen. Breathlessly, you cleared your throat too.

You felt something down on your abdomen, tensing slightly. You thought it was something sexual.

And that night, you had your first wet dream about your lieutenant.

_

Right now, you were sitting on the bed the medic told you to, and waiting for her to start patching your arm up. She had already took the bullet out, which was a really painful experience you might add, and she told you to wait for her to patch you up.

She was washing her hands and talking to you at the same time, not knowing her words were entering one ear and leaving from the other.

Suddenly the door swung open, Ghost came in.

“Get out, Stevens.”

The medic, Stevens, gulped and got out immediately, leaving you alone with him. You were screwed.

No need to be scared, you told yourself. He is my lieutenant, my friend-

“What the fuck was that?”

He snarled, looking at you with disappointment. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Not now, simon. Not after I fucking blowed up a mission by myself.

“Ghost I-“ He cut you off with a growl. You shivered.

“Didn’t know you were that, stupid.”

You licked your lips, trying so hard to come up with something witty. But no, you felt something else coming up.

You didn’t say anything, only looking at the floor. You were hoping for him to leave now, but no. Simon fucking Riley didn’t know when to shut up or speak.

“I can’t fucking believe you. You’re a fuckin’ failure..”

Ouch

You looked up.

He was still wearing his gear. He didn’t even wait to change, because scolding you was more important.

He took a deep breath, averting his eyes from yours.

“Are you done?” You asked with no emotion behind your words. You were exhausted, and your arm was still bleeding. You tightened your hand over it.

“No, I’m not fuckin’ done, Sergeant.”

You gulped when your eyes met. He was waiting, waiting for you to say something, anything that would set him off. He wasn’t looking at you though, you knew it. He was just here to scold you. He wasn’t seeing the bigger picture.

“My arm needs stitching.” He closed his eyes for a second.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He grumbled, the noise would make you feel things in other circumstances.

He looked at you one last time before getting out.

You got up and left the room after waiting for your doctor who didn’t show up.

.

.

.

You were out of the shower, still drying your hair with the towel.

You had stitched your arm by yourself, but it looked terrible as before. At least there was a gauze on your wound. You hoped it wouldn’t open.

You took a deep breath. You were going to bed after a long and hard day. Finally, you thought. You really wanted, no, needed to cry.

You could’ve literally cried after your lieutenants scolding, but you didn’t want to seem even more stupid and childish .

You’re a fucking failure , he’d said.

It was so hard, so hard not to cry and you were proud of yourself in that moment. Because if you cried in front of him, you would’ve showed him a vulnerable side and that was something you didn’t want.

Because you knew he didn’t like you.

You thought about your feelings towards your fucking lieutenant. He was your lieutenant, your superior. It wasn’t ethical, and you knew he wouldn’t look at you like that. It was almost painful to watch him interact with rookies like it’s nothing, but when it came to you he would shut off. He would scold you in a second if you did something wrong.

But you couldn’t forget about the little moment you had together in the kitchen too.

You wanted to take a breath, but you broke down instead.

You let the tears fall freely, not wiping them or anything. You knew you needed this. From the start of the day, you were waiting for that moment. And you finally had it.

And there was a knock on your door.

You sat down on your cold bathroom floor, not even suppressing your whimpers. You put your hands on your face, breaking down bad.

I need this, I need this, I’m worth it, I’m not a failure -

Then your door swung opened. You didn’t get up, you couldn’t. You couldn’t clear your vision. There was a nonstop battle between your eyes and your heart.

“Scout, hey.”

Then you heard him. You cried harder. You knew you were humiliating yourself , but you didn’t care for now.

“Scout, you’re okay-“

You harshly pulled your hands from your face and pushed him hard.

“Fuck you, Ghost. I’m not a-a failure and you know it. I’ll shoe you one day.” You were hiccuping between words and Simon cursed himself.

“Stop crying.”

You stood up, using both of your hands. The movement causing your arm to ache, and you whimpered.

Simon got up, looking stressed and angry at the same time.

“Let me look at your wound.”

“No, just leave me alone.” You answered him while rubbing your hands over your face. You didn’t sound angry for a second and that made him concerned.

“I don’t want you to fuckin’ bleed out and die, sergeant.”

Your face scrunched up, and you felt nauseous.

“Funny, lieutenant. I’m sure you want me to fucking die instead. Don’t need to be nice, we’re all alone.”

He was looking at you so confused. You wanted so hard to yell, to scream. But you were tired.

You closed your eyes and leaned on your bathroom door. You

“Listen to me fucking carefully, Scout.” He spoke harshly. You didn’t open your eyes, not ready yet to hear more scolding from him.

He took a deep breath.

“Please, Scout. “

You nodded your head, still wanting him to leave. He took a step towards you. His voice suddenly softened.

“Open those pretty eyes first, yeah?”

Your breath hitched a little and you mentally cursed yourself. You opened your eyes, finally meeting his’.

“I don’t know how to do…this.” He swallowed.

Simon took a careful step toward you again, and you let him. Your crying had already stopped, but you were looking like ghost now.

“To do what? Be nice to people?” You asked him harshly.

“Yeah, I don’t know how to be nice to people who I care about.”

You were startled by the sudden comment. He continued.

“I don’t know how to open up to people who could just die in an instant. Because If anything happens to them, I would be a real Ghost.”

You pressed your lips tighter now. You were shocked to hear those from him. But he still needed to work on his language.

He lifted his hand and put it just above your cheekbone, wiping under your eye. The sudden touch making your insides scream. you

“I don’t know what to do, to say, Scout.”

He leaned towards you, your breaths mixing with each other’s. You wanted to take off his mask now. Instead, you leaned your forehead in his forehead.

He leaned in, hand still stroking your cheek.

“Let’s figure out what to do, hm? Together .”

Your lieutenant closed his eyes and hummed. His other hand sneaked behind you to rest on your hip.

“I’m scared.” He confessed in a whisper. You licked your lips.

“Me too, Ghost.”

“Simon.” He interrupted you. You couldn’t even be happy that he told you his name.

He pulled back, his hands still resting on you.

“But that doesn’t mean you can talk shit to me, Simon.”

He swallowed the lump, nodding his head. It was hard for him, hard for him to suddenly feel an emotion. It was the worst fucking pain when you almost got shot in the head, but he couldn’t do anything other than yell at you, then fucking it up by almost kissing you. He couldn’t sleep after that night, seeing you on top of him was a sight worth dreaming but he couldn’t risk it.

He couldn’t fall in love with you. But he did. He wasn’t ready, for whatever feeling he had for you.

“I don’t think we should,” He called your real name at the end of the sentence. Your eyes suddenly shot open.

“Why? Simon fucking Riley is suddenly scared of some feelings?” You asked him harshly .

“Yes, he is.”

He was staring right at you, and you were starting to feel sleepy.

“You should probably go now.”

You said while looking anywhere but him. He sighed, looked at you one last time before grabbing the door handle to open the door wider for his massive form.

“I,” He sighed. “You’re not a failure, Scout. You’ll never be a failure.”

He got out of your bathroom, leaving you all alone once again.

“I’m not a failure.” You whispered to yourself, knowing fully the actual meaning behind his words.

He cared. He cared for you.

I hate this, this was rushed and also my first so please bear with me lol.

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter four

close to home | chapter four

plot: Daryl and the reader get to know each other in the gray hours of the morning, and he needs to decide whether or not she's a good person and someone he can trust around his family.

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,530 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

The rain had dulled into a softer downpour, and the thunder echoed in the distance. Still, you decided to fill every possible container with rainwater. You insisted it would be less work cause it wouldn’t have to be boiled. 

Daryl couldn’t exactly get a read on you. Anyone out here alone couldn’t be in the best mindset, and if you were telling the truth and you had been out by yourself since nearly the beginning, well, he couldn’t imagine the toll it had on someone. This world was hard enough without having to go at it alone. 

Despite that, you seemed decent enough. He didn’t believe you to be a threat, at least not while he was awake. And he couldn’t figure out why you didn’t shoot him back in the woods when he pulled the crossbow on you. He believed any sane person would’ve. But then again, he didn’t let the arrow fly either. 

The treehouse seemed okay enough, and he didn’t miss the stockpile of ammo in the room. You had quite a collection of ammo. You were just missing something to shoot it with. You had plenty of knives, though. Enough to gut someone ten times over. But you didn’t have one on you. You’d set it down. Did you trust him? Did you not care if you lived or died?

Waves of frustration rippled off him; the thunderstorm and walkers had ruined what was supposed to be a simple run. And hell, Rick wasn’t even supposed to have joined them. Not with Lori due in a few days, and the group barely has control over their cell block. They barely had enough food to keep them going, which was the only reason why they were out there in the first place. The food they got from the prisoners wouldn’t last them long, and they needed real meat. 

He looked up and glanced at where you were sitting. You’d moved over to the window and pulled back the makeshift curtain, the breeze flowing in. Each time the distant lightning cracked, he could make out the features of your face since you’d moved away from the fire. 

“You said you went to medical school?” Daryl asked you. 

It took a moment before you realized he’d even asked a question. “I did. I was about to start my residency. Why?”

He hesitated for a moment. “You know anything about delivering babies?”

This captured your full attention, and you looked away, “Why? You due soon?”

Daryl didn’t sense the sarcasm in your tone, “Ain’t for me. Got a friend. Due in a couple days.” 

You shook your head, “I don’t know much. Besides, you said you wouldn’t tell me about your group.”

Daryl snorted but didn’t say anything as he leaned back against the wall. Bringing her back, someone with medical training, that would be big. Hershel wouldn’t be alone, and you might know more about humans. Still, it’d be a risk. He didn’t know if it was worth perusing. They’d been okay with just Hershel…

“I have a group,” Daryl said, “There’s eleven of us. This is how this works. You tell me your story. Tell me who you are and what you’ve done. Maybe if everything’s good… maybe I bring you back with me.” 

You continued looking out the window, and Daryl started to think you hadn’t heard him cause the silence stretched so long. But finally, you turned to look at him, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you bring me back with you? You don’t know me….”

“You coulda shot me in the head, coulda left me to die in the woods. I mighta survived, I mighta. But you helped me. Even now, you sit with no weapons. You ain’t even lookin’ at me. I don’ think ya dangerous.” 

You smiled sadly, “No, I’m not dangerous.” 

“I tell ya what. You tell me what I wanna know. We pack this place up and go when the storm clears.” 

“You just want my supplies and medical help with that baby,”

Daryl shrugged, “Maybe. But ain’t that the way the world works now.”

Again, you were silent and you looked out the window for a few minutes. Finally, you took a deep breath and looked at him. “How about this. We tell each other what we both wanna know, and I decide if I wanna trust you.” 

Daryl nodded slowly, “Aight, that’s fair.”

***

The wall was cold against your skin, and the rainwater splashes made you shiver even more. The fire was dying, and the treehouse was growing darker. You slowly moved from your spot and put more logs on the fire. Then you went to grab an old can of peaches and gave Daryl another can of food too. 

“I was up in Atlanta when everything happened. Liam was one of those survivalists, always thinking about the end of the world. He wasn’t crazy about it. I mean, hell, he was right. But he knew things, and he knew how to take care of himself. So when the world went to shit, we got the hell out of Atlanta. He said that if there’s a cure, he will wait it out,

“So we took off, headed down south. His parents lived around here. They didn’t make it. But this treehouse was his. He and his dad built it years ago. It used to have stairs, but we knocked them down when a dead one got up on the porch. We fixed this place up together. I’ve been here since.” 

“Winter musta sucked,”

You laughed and nodded while taking another bite of your food. “It did. There’s no insulation. I got snowed in a few times. But Tora and I… we managed. It’s been just us since October, I think. I don’t know,”  You shook your head, “I had some family down here too, but I checked their place out, burnt down and overrun, just like every other shithole.”

“And before? Before all this?”

“Why does it even matter? I was just a normal person. I was in school, engaged, and living the dream in Atlanta. It doesn’t matter.”

Daryl nodded, “It’s easy to think that way,”

“Not sure there’s any other way to think,” You said, “So what about you? Your group, been together before?”

He shook his head, “No, we met each other on the road. We’ve lost a few people, gained a few people too. We’re holding up nice now if we can make it work. Our leader, Rick, and his wife are pregnant. Abouta pop. We have a man that can help, but I don’t know. I figured someone else might help too.”

You nodded and looked around the treehouse. This was a place you knew before and after. A place that you loved and hated. It was home and a prison, with memories that hurt every time you stepped in. And you were alone. And you were tired. 

“Your leader, Rick… will he take me?”

“He will. You helped me, you coulda killed me, and you didn’t. Plus, you got medical supplies and ammo. Our group needs both.”

You glanced at your stockpile. Your lifeline. Could you trade that? What if they took it and killed you right after?

Daryl seemed to sense your hesitation. “I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I coulda killed you too, back in the woods. Woulda been real easy to just pull the trigger. But I didn’t. I’m taking a leap of faith here, too, (Y/N).”

“Can Tora come?”

This made Daryl laugh, and he looked at the giant cat stretched out by the fire. “Yeah, yeah. We probably got a rat problem. We’ll keep her busy. Everyone pitches in. Besides, we got a kid. He’d probably love an animal around.”

You nodded and tossed the empty can aside. “I’m really familiar with the area. Been here before and after. You tell me where your camp is, and I bet I can get you there.”

“We at a prison,” 

Your eyebrows rose. “I know what one you’re talking about. About twenty miles north of here, right? Liam and I saw it a while back. It was full of walkers.”

“Not anymore.”

“Big group,” You said, your stomach tight with nerves. “If they kill me, promise me you’ll make sure Tora lives.”

The archer chuckled, “No one’s gonna kill ya.”

“I have a car. About two miles north of here is Liam’s parent's house. I keep some stuff there sometimes. If no one’s broken it, we can get to it once the storm clears and the sun’s up. I’m not walking twenty miles again.”

“Me neither,”

***

Sometime in the early morning, sleep found you. When your eyes opened a few hours later, the sun had been up for at least an hour. It took a few seconds before your memory came back to you and you jumped up, looking for the stranger from yesterday. 

The treehouse was empty, and your stockpile was gone. And so was Tora. “Son of a bitch,” You muttered, getting up. You grabbed your matchete and ran to the door. It was slightly ajar, and you nearly fell over when it opened so easily. 

“Jesus, you tryin’ wake everythin’ up around here?” Daryl stood by the balcony's edge, lowering the baskets with some rope. 

“I thought….”

“Yeah, I know what you thought, but I didn’,” Daryl said, “I was gonna wake ya up soon. Your cat brought a rabbit back.” He nodded his head behind you, and you looked back. It had already been gutted, cleaned, and cooked. You stood in disbelief for a second. 

“Oh… where is she?”

“On the roof,” 

You grabbed a few pieces of the tender meat and looked up to where she was gnawing on some bones. You couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at her. 

“Your bag, the one you dropped by the lake. Anything important?”

“It was just water. And some clothes. Everything else is damaged from the water.” You said, going back for a few more pieces. After yesterday, you were starving. 

“Good, didn’ wanna walk all the way back there,”

You nodded and took one last piece before disappearing back into the treehouse. It seemed Daryl had grabbed everything. Except on the table were a few of your personal belongings. Your gun, leg holster, ring, and a photograph of you and Liam together. Your still-wet shoes were on the floor next to the table. 

Taking a deep breath, you took a photograph from the frame and folded it, then put it in your back pocket. Your attached the hostler and then looked at the ring. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it was a beautiful ring. Still, it ached your heart, and you couldn’t bring yourself to put it on. It didn’t feel right. Liam was gone. You weren’t. And you needed to think of a future where you survived, not memories that would hold you back. 

After pressing a quick kiss to the ring, you laid it gently along the small fireplace’s mantle. It was newly built. It wasn’t there before. But now, the ring would sit in the treehouse where it belonged. Where it could stay forever with Liam’s spirit and memory. 

“You aight?”

You looked back at Daryl and nodded, “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“It’s been quiet this morning. I think the walkers followed the storm south. The cat doesn’t seem worried.” 

You nodded and walked past him. Everything you needed to bring was already on the ground. “I’ve been here almost a year. Kept me safe. It feels so final.” You said. 

“We goin’ someplace better. Don’ got the time to be all wishy-washy about it.” 

You chuckled at his bluntness and walked towards the rope. “Yeah, I know.” 

***

Carrying all your supplies was much more difficult, and the two miles seemed to stretch forever. Each of you had bags on your shoulders and were carrying boxes of supplies. But finally, the yellow house came into view, and you sighed with relief. 

You didn’t need to say anything, your reaction alone told Daryl you were there, and he felt relief too. When you approached the garage door, you looked through the glass window and banged a few times before opening it. 

“I’ve picked through the house a few times. There’s really nothing to take. Anything worth taking I already did,” You said, walking over to the boxes of old Christmas decorations and donation boxes that never made it out. 

Underneath a Christmas tree box were the keys to the white Jeep Wrangler, and you unlocked the car quickly. It only took another minute to get it loaded up. 

“We lost the soft top a while back, left it at a storage unit in Atlanta, if I’m being honest.” You said. Suddenly your eyes widened, “Hold on, I gotta get something from the house.” 

“I’ll come with ya,” Daryl said. 

You glanced towards Tora, who happily sniffed all the boxes and other crap around the garage. “I’ll only be a second; watch her.”

You disappeared into the house, banging on a few walls to ensure no dead ones were around. You and Liam had locked the house up pretty tight. Just as suspected, there was nothing. And you quickly grabbed what you were looking for. On your way back, you passed another few boxes of donations and paused. 

In the garage, Daryl was getting antsy. He checked the supplies and then rechecked them. He wanted to get on the road and get back to his people. He wanted to know if Rick, Glenn, and Maggie had made it. He didn’t wanna wait any longer. 

Just when he was about to go look for you, you walked through the door carrying a bag in your arm and a cat carrier in the other. 

“I don’t trust her not to jump out of the car,” You said, shoving the carrier in his arms. “And I got this. Figured they shouldn’t be wasted, and I didn’t know how many baby supplies you got. It’s just some clothes and a few toys. Nothing else, sadly.”

“Lori will love this,” Daryl said quietly, setting down the carrier and taking the box from you. “You might be her favorite person after this.”

You laughed as you grabbed Tora, earning a few hisses as you tried to put her in the carrier. It took two tries, but finally, she was sitting rather unhappily and a bit overstuffed. “It’s only for a little while, baby,” You said, putting the carrier in the back seat and strapping it in, all while ignoring the few hisses she gave in displeasure. 

“Here,” You said, tossing the keys to Daryl. “This way, your people don’t think I got you hostage or something,”

Daryl only nodded and opened up the garage door, taking a quick look around before climbing it. You were just buckling in when the car roared to life, and he took off.

[ellebakers]

☆ She's back

Jill Roberts x reader (platonic)

part one ; part two (part of "desire" serie)

tag list : @callsignwidow @dandylovebot @hopeswifesblog @sthidk @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

Summary : look like your old babysitter is back.

Warnings : mention of ethan + mention of death + blood + mention of past abuse.

you rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time when kirby asked you, for the umpteenth time "are you sure ?"

"yes, I tell you again and again, it was jill, she was the one who picked me up after ethan stabbed me and for several days she gave me blood infusions before taking me to the hospital."

the blonde was pacing in front of your hospital bed. chad, sam and tara didn't dare say anything, after all, someone who wore the ghostface mask had helped them in the theater, and that person said they hadn't killed in a while. mindy on the other hand was jumping for joy, she was throwing out lots of theories about the return of jill roberts.

"it makes sense, everyone knows that to definitely kill ghostface, you have to aim for the head, except that." she paused to tone down her theory. "sidney didn't shoot her in the head." kirby stopped in her tracks and turned to mindy.

"she shot her in the heart. no one can survive that."

mindy pointed her index fingers in the air "michael myers yes." everyone groaned in despair at the brunette's argument.

tara clears her throat "listen, even though it seems unreal that jill is alive. someone gave us a hand there, and that ghostface stopped at you. that person could have killed us all but she didn't."

kirby was silent for a moment, what the young carpenter was pointing to made sense. she ran a hand over her face then leaned on the end of the y/n bed.

"very well. do you remember where was the place where she put you ?"

"it was an apartment."

kirby threw her head back, growling "that's not really helping us y/n."

you were beginning to lose patience. "sorry, but I was slightly in a daze. i only woke up at times when she was giving me something to eat and drink or when she was changing my infusions. i didn't really have time to ask her for her address. "

kirby pinched her lip to keep herself from getting mad at you. it wouldn't have been fair, but learning that jill was still alive brought back bad memories for the blonde.

"okay, here's what we'll do. I'll take you back to the scene of the assault, and you'll try to remember the road she took to bring you home."

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

coming back down that alley hurt you. no matter how much you told herself that ethan was dead, you couldn't think of anything other than that night. you moved forward a little more and froze when you saw the trace of blood on the ground. it had been weeks since the incident happened and yet there was still this red mark on the ground. a reassuring hand rested on your shoulder, you turned your head and saw tara.

"are you ok ?"

you nodded slowly and smiled at her to try to convince her. "yes thanks."

tara was not convinced and she made you understand. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before telling her what had been eating you up since that night.

"if i hadn't been so dumb, if i hadn't slept with him, we wouldn't be here. i mean, i really thought he wasn't like the others. do you realize what it would have been like if I had died that night. she died after letting a guy she barely knew fuck her."

your best friend stood in front of you, this time, she took both your shoulders. "y/n, no one could have guessed that ethan would do such a thing. you don't have to feel guilty. you gave yourself to a guy who didn't deserve it, you made a mistake but it happens to everyone."

you laughed lightly "not everyone bleeds out after a mistake."

she opened her mouth, then closed it and nodded. "It's true, on this one you screwed up." her comment made you laugh. "but you know what i mean. sam dated a psychopath and i was best friends with one. but we are still here, despite our mistakes, whe have survived and we also know that we will make mistakes again but it does not matter, it is part of life."

you nodded, she was right. "thank you tara."

"anything for you." she said to you with a tender smile.

you looked one last time at the trace of blood then you continued to advance, in search of memories.

—

you had been looking for an hour but nothing came back to you and you were starting to get impatient. your friends were starting to get impatient too, the night was starting to fall as well as the cold.

"you should go back to the hospital."

"come with us." sam told you.

you shook your head gently, smiling kindly at her. "i'm going to stay a little longer and then, i promise i'll be back."

mindy stepped forward. "i stay with you." you opened your mouth to protest but she held up her hand to stop you from speaking. "don't even try to negotiate with me."

you rolled your eyes but accepted, having her by your side reassured you.

kirby walked over to both of you and pointed a finger at you. "if you have any problems, you call me okay ? anyway, i'll drop them off and come back here."

"i promise."

the blonde nodded then she took your friends to the main street where the car was.

mindy turned to you and rubbed her hands together. "so what do we do ? do you remember anything."

you shook your head. "i have no idea."

your friend was scanning the alley with her eyes when she gently grabbed your arm. "what is that ?" you followed her gaze and saw something shiny behind a trash can. mindy approached and grabbed the object. it was a bracelet, a bracelet that you knew very well since it is the gift that you offered to your babysitter in woodsboro. you remember it since you had to save your pocket money plus the money you had on your birthday and christmas to give it to jill.

"it's jill’s." mindy's eyes widened. "what! you're kidding."

"no, I gave it to her for her sixteenth birthday. she was my favorite person in the world at that time and I really wanted to please her."

"oh my god, you know what i just realized ?" you turned to her, waiting impatiently for what she was going to say. "i just realized that you made better gifts when you were little."

she burst out laughing when she saw your reaction, you gave her the middle finger and turned your head so she wouldn't see you laughing.

"no seriously. it proves that she was indeed there. but how did she manage to lose it ?"

you grab her arm. "wait. and if she lost it later. it was visible then why didn't ethan, bailey or even a cop pick it up ?"

she nodded. "ok then, jill finds you, she picks you up and takes you to safety for treatment. then she comes back to the scene of the crime, but why ?"

you remained silent as you brainstormed for an answer. suddenly mindy gasped and squeezed your arm, her eyes widening. "bailey and ethan, they stayed here after we were taken back to sam. maybe she came back to kill ethan and she must have seen them together, maybe they talked about their plans and that she heard them."

you finished her theory. "yes. and that's how she would have known where to go for the last act."

"damn yes. and sam said bailey had the hospitals monitored. maybe he told ethan, that's why she brought you to the hospital on the day of the last act at the theater."

you looked around you. "that means she lives not far from here."

"yeah. but where ? it's looking for a needle in a haystack."

suddenly, mindy's phone started ringing. "chad ? i can not hear you." she lowered her phone a little and turned to you. "listen I'm going to the street, it sizzles." you nodded and she left.

you leaned against a wall and looked up at the scrap metal staircase in front of you, it was the first time you noticed it, how could it be.

you continued to examine the staircase then without really knowing why, guided by your instinct, you looked at a window on the third floor, and you froze. she was there. she was looking at you through the window. jill.

—

you made sure that mindy hadn't returned and you rushed to the apartment. once arrived, the shortness of breath, you knocked on the door. "open the door i know you're there jill. open that fucking door i just wanna talk." as you were about to drum again, the door swung open.

"since when are you so vulgar y/n ?"

you couldn't believe it. jill roberts. the famous killer. your old babysitter. the one you considered your big sister. the one who made your childhood happier was there. she had a few wrinkles around her eyes, and she had dyed her hair blonde, but other than that, she hadn't changed. she smiled at you, not with a sadistic smile no, she had a sincere smile. the only thing you could say was. "you plan to let me in."

she shook her head, laughing softly, then stepped aside to let you in. you scanned the apartment with your eyes, it was the one where she had hidden and rescued you. the sound of a teapot on the fire was heard, when it began to scream she took it out and poured hot water into two cups. you followed her with your eyes. you should be afraid to be alone with her. she was ghostface, she killed her friends and even her mother. but without really knowing why, you felt safe with her. she turned to you with the two cups and motioned for you to sit down.

"chamomile, it helps with the nerves." she says to you passing you a cup.

you were speechless. you opened and closed your mouth like a fish, you were dying to know how she was still alive, but nothing came out, so, as she read your thoughts, she put down her cup that she had just carried to her mouth and then she took a deep breath.

"you want to know how come I'm still alive don't you ?" you nodded and she took a deep breath.

"when sidney shot me, she missed my heart by a few centimeters, yet it stopped for a few minutes. that's why I was declared dead. they took me down to the morgue. when I I woke up nobody was there so i took the opportunity to rummage through the files, i memorized the signature of the person in charge of the morgue, then i took my file and i imitated his signature on the document which confirmed that my body had been cremated. i took the first clothes i found at the hospital, stole a car and drove as far as i could from woodsboro. odd jobs in small villages who didn't know me. when i had enough money i bought false papers, i changed my hair color and identity. now my name is madison cooper .and when all this shit died down, i moved to new york keeping an eye on you of course."

you shook your head to put your thoughts in place. "why did you keep an eye on me ?" she took a sip of her tea before answering you.

"when i did, what i did ten years ago. my original plan was to go away with you way out of woodsboro. being famous i thought I was going to make a lot of money and like that, you and I could have lived together, happily."

"why ?"

she rolled her eyes. "y/n do you really think that i didn't know what was going on at your house ? you think that i wouldn't understand seeing the bruises that your father gave you. and your mother who veiled her face and who preferred to take drugs rather than helping her eight-year-old daughter."

you looked down, the memories flooding back to you.

"why didn't you wave all those years ?"

"It was too risky. but i've been there. who do you think sent you an envelope full of money for your thirteenth birthday. who paid for your hospital bills when you fell from the tree of mindy and chad. who wrote an anonymous letter to denounce what your parents were doing. who also sent a letter to your godmother asking her to take care of you. who put your file first at the university. and who saved you when that asshole stabbed you."

"why did you do all that jill ?"

she frowned, as if the answer was self-evident. "because you were always important to me. i always felt like i had to protect you. and i feel guilty too, because if i hadn't killed all these people, maybe i would have found a job and I could have got you out of this hell."

tears were beginning to well up, you wiped them away with the back of your hand. in a weak voice you asked him. "so it was you who helped my friends at the theater ?"

she nodded. "I followed everything you posted on social media, I also dug into your friends' lives that's when I saw that chad had a roommate named ethan, and he looked familiar so i did some research and i quickly realized that it was richie's brother. so i hacked your phone, by the way y/n, you should never accept photos that a stranger send you."

your jaw dropped. "wait for the penis photo was it you ?"

"yeah, I'm not very proud of it but since you're too smart not to click on the weird instagram links, but clearly not smart enough to open a nude, it was easy to hack your phone. so that night I located your phone and saw that it was right under my apartment, I first saw what you were doing so I didn't come out to give you some… privacy." you turned red with embarrassment which made Jill smile. "but when i heard you were out of air, i stuck my head out the window and saw him stab you. believe me it took a lot of self control not to come down and the stumble. I waited for him to leave and came to get you. when the police left i went downstairs to get medicine and all the necessary medical equipment, that's where i saw ethan with an old man who i saw understood to be his father, i heard them say that 'they were going to watch the hospitals and finish you off if you ever set foot there, then they talked about a theater and the last act."

you took a big sip of your tea and she was right, it calmed your nerves. one last question running through your mind. "how did you know what theater he was talking about ?"

she looked at you with a mischievous smile. "let's say i played with ethan a bit. i called him a few times to freak him out, which worked, and tracked his phone on the day, then pulled out the ghostface costume and i went to have a little fun."

you exhaled a big blow, that was a lot of information. your phone turned on, displaying a text from tara asking if you were okay, then something came to mind. neither kirby nor mindy had tried to contact you. the only thing that could explain it is that they knew exactly where you were, you turned your head towards the front door. jill watched you finish her tea, then she put her cup on the table, she swung some of her hair that had fallen down behind her shoulder and cleared her throat. "they are behind the door."

you looked at her, not sure what to say. "i didn't tell them jill I promise you." she put a reassuring hand on your arm. "i know." then she got up and went to open the door. as you thought mindy and kirby were both behind the door. mindy's eyes were wider than ever, shocked to see jill roberts. kirby held back tears when she saw her former best friend.

"hello kirby, good to see you."

jill pushed herself aside again to let them in. mindy rushed over and hugged you. "damn, you freaked me out. i thought something happened to you. are you okay ?"

you hugged mindy to you. "i'm fine, i assure you."

kirby came forward slowly, jill came back to sit at the table, a silence settled in the apartment. then the fbi agent grabbed her gun and pointed it at jill.

you got up to stop her but mindy held you back. "kirby stop." you asked her crying. "y/n, she killed people, she ruined lives. my life actually."

the roberts girl remained unmoved facing the gun pointed at her, as if she was not afraid of dying almost as if she wanted kirby to pull the trigger.

"do it." she told her.

"no." you cried.

the blonde was trying to hold the gun but she was shaking all over. after a few seconds that seemed like hours, she dropped the gun and began to cry. mindy let you go to make kirby sit down. jill took a deep breath, when you looked at her, tears ran down her cheeks, but it wasn't from fear, more like she was upset to see her friend like that.

"i'm sorry kirby. not for killing this people. but i'm sorry for letting charlie hurt you."

the blonde looked up at jill. "sorry ? but you let him do this anyway. you let him kill olivia, and robby."

"yes. but in your opinion why did I kill him ?"

"because you wanted to be the only fucking survivor."

jill leaned slightly toward kirby. "no. because i wanted to make him pay for killing you. you weren't supposed to get hurt. you were supposed to get away and stay alive."

"and you think I'm going to believe theses bullshit ?"

"believe what you want. you can report me to the police or even kill me. do what you want, you deserve to be happy and we both know that you won't be happy if you know that i am alive."

kirby wiped away her tears, then she turned to you. your face was streaming with tears. the blonde thinks for a few minutes before turning to jill. "i'll let you live because she." she pointed her finger in your direction. "needs you. but i want you to tell her the truth now."

jill broke down. "kirby, I know the truth about what happened-" the fbi agent shook her head looking at you. "i'm not talking about that truth."

you exchanged a look with mindy. then you turned to jill. she met your gaze and more tears began to flow down her face.

she took your hands "well, if I hated my mother so much and if i knew what was going at your house, it's because." she paused and resumed. "your father is also mine."

you decomposed. "what ?!"

"y/n you are my sister."

✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚ ✚

[agendabymooner]

kenergy unfolded || ms47 fic

mick schumacher x ofc

EXTENTION/WRITTEN VERSION of WHO IS KENOUGH

Summary: Barbie Blanco is dating her childhood crush, Mick Schumacher but nobody knew. Or at least, nobody knew until Arthur Leclerc, Barbie’s boy best friend who drove for the Ferrari Driving Academy, decided to take the matter into his own hands and roped Barbie into making the young Schumacher jealous. Needless to say, riling up the entire F1 community (and the boyfriend) would eventually make Mick snap.

Content warning: written version of Who Is Kenough, use of explicit language, platonic!scheming!Arthur Leclerc x OFC, established relationship, jealous!Mick Schumacher

Note: I am moving tomorrow so I decided to write this down for now bc I just want some menace Arthur. This is the written version of Who is Kenough so enjoy!!! xx

masterlist

Barbie Blanco had always considered herself decent. She acted as nicely as she could in public, respecting everyone and treating them with kindness. Because of her connection to the retired driver Sebastian Vettel and his wife Bel, she, too, had an image in public that she maintained. Everyone loved Barbie. Of all the people who could’ve made their images terrible, she had more chances of winning the public over should she do something heinous. Not that she’d ever do something as such. 

Mick Schumacher was the same. He was born to an iconic racing family, with him being Michael Schumacher’s carbon copy. He already had a public image by the time he was born— a set of expectations for him were ready to be fulfilled. He was the cutest baby to have existed too, with cameras taking photos of him left and right while he and his father were out and about. He had to maintain his image as a Schumacher legacy. 

Perhaps that was why he decided that keeping their relationship on the down low was ideal. It wasn’t as if he was embarrassed by the thought of it — he didn’t like the idea of sharing Barbie to the rest of the world just yet. They’ve seen her in the paddocks as Sebastian Vettel’s daughter and they rooted for her and Mick as years went on — but it didn’t mean that he’d share her to the world after yearning for almost a decade. It took him years to even admit he loved her— he didn’t want to share her just yet. 

But Barbie took Mick’s hesitation for humiliation. One of the things that she had learned from being in the foster system for too long was that she cannot ask. Just take what you’re given, and be grateful. It took Seb and Bel to tell her that she could ask anything and they’d be more than willing to hand it to her but a little part of herself, one that thought too much about Mick, doubted that he would even admit to anyone he’s dating her. Let alone she was his girlfriend. So she never asked, just shying away from the thought and continued to be a happy content girlfriend for him. 

But it seemed as if fate fucked around a lot. Or rather, Arthur Leclerc did. 

Their isolated vacation in Monaco was meant to be as secluded as it could be— the Vettels had a yacht that were maintained but not normally operated, and the younger couple had the boat for the two of them. They were quite happy with the quiet that came with the boat, with him sunbathing while she sat next to him with a book perched on her lap. 

Well, Mick was sunbathing until he cleared his throat to catch her attention, shooting the German a look as he smiled widely at Barbie, “Come cuddle?” 

“Under the sun?” Barbie chuckled, “I could do so much more than staying in one place.” 

“Oya? Name it,” Mick’s hand lifted his shades to stare at her dark eyes with his cheeky grin. “Maybe we can experiment and see what works?” 

“You are literally red in the face and your chest because of the sun,” Barbie scoffed, “what’s stopping me from slapping you to make them hurt?” 

“Your love for me?” Mick suggested, leaving Barbie to roll her eyes as he laughed and reached up to kiss her softly. Pulling an inch away from her lips, he murmured, “Ich liebe dich so sehr.” I love you so much.

“Took us long enough huh,” Barbie chuckled beneath her breath before pulling him for another kiss, “I love you.” 

Arthur: Oi, how long are you here in Monaco for???

Barbie: ??? How do you even know I’m in Monaco?

Arthur: Snapchat works wonders. 

Arthur: So??? Are you gonna be here for a while or are you just planning to ditch your best friend? 

Barbie: Ugh, fine. I’ll find my way around here. Where do you want to eat?

Arthur: I knew I love you for a reason ;) Remember that resto I took you to for pasta? Like the big cheese wheel pasta? 

Barbie: I honestly would rather eat at the back of your mother’s salon.

Arthur: Don’t be so boring. Send me your addy. You better be outside your place at 6PM sharp. If you’re not dressed as much as you do on a fashion week I’m gonna march you back to your place. I want to see fancy. FANCY!!!

Mick Schumacher might kill a Monegasque sometime soon. Preferably his grid mate’s brother. 

Barbie had been checking her D&G tulle dress for ten minutes straight while she stood in front of the mirror with her Medusa shoes on, her lips painted dark red while a black rose choker was wrapped around her neck. She had her hair in a wavy ponytail, not wanting to make her hair look more complicated. 

“It’s too formal,” Mick only told her before he walked up to their temporary shared closet and pulled out his oversized vintage Ferrari jacket. 

Barbie stared at the outerwear in his hand for a second before she chuckled, “That’s too casual.” 

“It evens out the whole vibe,” Mick shrugged before slipping her onto the jacket. “Voila. Besides, it’s a Leclerc. What does a Leclerc know about dressing nicely?”

“Oi, you might be friends with one but you don’t get to slander my own,” Barbie laughed regardless, pinching him on the cheek as he smiled lazily. “Don’t be an ass to everyone just because they have the same surname.” 

“I’m not— but I’m just saying; if Charles could barely dress, what makes you think Arthur cares about what he wears?” Mick proposed. He was only saying that to make himself feel better. That, and maybe he was convincing himself that their night out was just a best friend to best friend kind of hangout. Not a date. 

Nobody knew that they were dating with the exception of their families, as far as they knew. They decided to keep themselves silent about it to their peers, not wanting to see them slip up and compromise the relationship that Mick wanted to keep a secret. 

So Mick was trying to convince himself that no, Arthur Leclerc wasn’t taking Barbie on a date. And no, Arthur was just a boy best friend only— he wasn’t crushing on Barbie. 

“You’re such a fashion critique,” Barbie replied with a grin, “have you ever considered joining Bel on one of her fashion weeks? You’d do so much more talking than I would.” 

“I dress better than him.”

“Alright quit sizing him up, he isn’t here,” Barbie giggled, flattening out the crease on his shirt as she continued, “You— enjoy your night out with Estie and Charles, yes? And I will see you in about… few hours?” 

Mick sighed, slumping against her shorter figure as he said, “I really do not want to go out.”

“Same here, best friend,” Mick heard her murmur with his head resting against her neck. Then his lips began to press kisses against her perfumed neck as she pushed him off with a giggle, “Alright, stop feeling me up Mick— you’re not gonna get away from your night out—“

“Ugh,” he groaned, stomping his foot down petulantly before he pouted. “Stupid friends. I’m gonna see them in a week anyways— why do I have to see them over the break?” 

“Because they love you so much they’re more than willing to see your insufferable ass over the break?” She raised a brow before her mouth curled into a grin.

Mick let out a strangled and baffled noise as Barbie giggled and said, “I’m kidding. They’re still your friends, love.” 

“And? So are you? Why couldn’t they just invite you?” 

A ping on her phone echoed inside the bedroom as she sighed, picking up her phone to look at the notification before she looked back at her boyfriend. “Art’s here. Besides, you’ve your friends— I’ve mine. We might’ve been thick as thieves but you still had your friends. I didn’t have any— Arthur was kind enough to pity me no?” 

Before Mick could even protest, she already held his face and pressed a kiss on his lips. “See you later, mahal. Enjoy your time with the boys. Don’t drink and drive.” 

Then she was gone, leaving him alone as he pouted continuously. He muttered to himself, “I’ll see you, liebe.” 

But the truth was Barbie was right; throughout her life as Sebastian’s foster daughter she never had any friends who stayed. Mick and Gina Schumacher were her friends and those two only. Everyone rooted for Mick and Barbie because they were always together; they were the constant ones. Barbie never had any friends that weren’t Mick’s, so Arthur was a change in her life that she welcomed with open arms. 

So really, Mick shouldn’t be complaining about her hanging out with other people when he does it every time he’s away from her. He had more options, she didn’t. 

“I’m gonna stab you with a fork and you’re just gonna hope for the best if you say that aloud one more time. I swear to you, Leclerc.” 

“That what? That you and Mi—“

“Sh~ Art, shut up,” Barbie hissed louder than expected, earning the attention of the people around them as her face flushed red. When they turned back to mind their business, Barbie glowered at Arthur. “If you’re trying to get an answer then you better hush.” 

“Fine, I’ll be quiet,” Arthur Leclerc had been twirling the pasta in his plate for a minute straight now, eating it before he leaned over and quietly asked Barbie, “How long have you two been dating?” 

“…February.” 

“Fucking Feb— oh, mon cœur,” Arthur sighed dramatically, “and I was not even told? Did Charles know? Who else knows?”

“Seb and Gina… literally our families only,” Barbie slumped on her seat, “no, Charles doesn’t know. I intend to keep it that way. Or at least Mick wants to keep it that way.” 

What? Even Arthur knew how whipped Mick was for Barbie so why was he hiding Barbie away now? When Barbie saw this look on Arthur’s face all she could say was, “I dunno. I wasn’t told why either. You know I don’t like asking.”

“You should start asking, though, Barbie because how will you know?” Arthur asked. But the last part of his reply had him wondering. How would Mick prove himself to be happy with loving Barbie? 

Now this may seem silly or dumb but Arthur might have thought of something. Maybe it would work but who knows. 

All he wanted was for Mick to show that he loved Arthur’s best friend as the German driver portrayed back when people only saw him and Barbie as best friends. Forget about Barbie doing everything, maybe this is the time a Ken named Mick Schumacher could do something for once. 

Charles: I didn’t know your best friend is coming to Zandvoort?

Mick: She’s in Amsterdam right now, yeah. Why?

Charles: Nothing. I thought you made a move for once but it turns out I’m wrong. 

Mick: Wdym? 

Charles: Fast Lane Daily and other news sites are running a story about her and my brother right now in Amsterdam. Did you see his IG story too? 

Charles: I’m rooting for you two but like this is letting me down tbh

BARBIE AND MICK? No, Arthur Leclerc!

“Barbie Blanco Vettel is a catch indeed, so who’s the lucky Monegasque seeker?”

ARTHUR LECLERC and BARBIE BLANCO are seen hanging out days before the Zandvoort race. Could this be the beginning of an iconic couple in the grid? 

“With Sebastian Vettel’s daughter — your best friend Barbie Blanco attending the race week, will we see her in the Mercedes garage?” The reporter asked Mick as he stood there at the media pen. Mick’s smile fell flat when the reporter continued with, “Or will we see her at the Ferrari with what everyone thinks to be her boyfriend, Arthur Leclerc?” 

Ugh. 

But his smile showed as he answered as nicely as one could, “Oh, no. That’s the thing about Barbie— she doesn’t have favourite teams. She has favourite drivers and with her being my guest — I’m certain you’ll see her around our paddock area, the garage maybe— hell, I might just have the Mercedes social media account post a lot of videos of her.”

“So why haven’t you posted photos of her lately? Does it perhaps have anything to do with the youngest Leclerc being involved with her?”

In the next hour, the Mercedes media team had posted every single clip they had of Barbie, donning the number 47 in her Merc shirt, and Mick talking as they discussed the car and their day — but their conversations were muted and some stupid TikTok sounds were playing in the background. They even posted a video of the duo talking to Sebastian and his son Kimi over a FaceTime call. 

Then the Ferrari Driving Academy — per Arthur’s request — posted some videos of him and Barbie messing about at the garage with Ollie. He somehow managed to rope Ollie and their media team into making a TikTok with Barbie’s Merc hat being replaced by a FDA one — WITH ARTHUR’S NUMBER ON IT. 

Everyone in the grid had seen it before Arthur’s older brother even did. Even Charles was taking the piss from Arthur’s antics. He was rooting for Mick to finally win the girl over and his brother was out here trying to be as slick as one could be to Barbie.

Charles Leclerc knew that he was more than willing to strangle his own brother on behalf of Mick Schumacher. 

Mick was the bigger man on certain occasions (God hadn’t made him the smaller man in every part of his being either), so he couldn’t understand why he wanted to be petty about his relationship with Barbie to Arthur. He was what everyone called a golden retriever— always friendly and all that. But sometimes he wished he was like Roscoe. Intimidating, sure, but he’s a softie. He just wanted to scare any men off as they try to scamper towards Barbie.

The phrases Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss never sounded so good until this season. He wanted to follow the mantra with the exception of the first part. He wanted to gatekeep so bad, but being a Mercedes driver opened his world to the public even more. Now he couldn’t even keep Barbie to himself. 

He was certainly delighted to see her excited face when she arrived in the Mercedes area during the free practice day, though. It was safe to say that Arthur hadn’t done anything stupid just yet. 

Barbie became a familiar face in the paddock as she remained Mick’s guest. She was starting her final year of culinary school in September and all she wanted was to watch him race in person for the last time before heading back to Switzerland. She wasn’t due to see him race again until Abu Dhabi. 

Now, Mick saw her more often as they lived ten minutes apart in Switzerland. But there was just something about her attending the races that had him going. He wasn’t a people pleaser— he was a Barbie pleaser. He lived to make her proud just as he was proud of her multi-talented nature. So he wanted to make the Dutch GP something that she’d be proud about. As if he hadn’t been earning points with his Mercedes vehicle every race. 

Then Barbie opened her mouth about her trip with Arthur when they were in Amsterdam. Mick loved listening to her rambling about what she’d gotten Seb and Bel’s son Kimi, indeed, but when Arthur’s name slipped out of her mouth his smile faltered for a moment. It was an expression that Barbie missed while she continued to babble about what else she had gotten from Amsterdam. 

Mick didn’t have to feel extremely foul after coping from the story that Arthur posted days ago with her being in it. Arthur never posted as much as he did of her before, so there was something going on. Mick just couldn’t point his finger on it. It was annoying him to no end. 

It didn’t help that the younger Monegasque came stopping by at the Mercedes garage with a grin while he stood on his electric scooter. Arthur’s grin widened even more when he saw Mick before he looked back at his girl best friend and greeted her, “Not tired of me, yet?” 

Mick certainly was.

“Eh, kinda,” Barbie joked, still standing next to Mick’s car while the driver sat there with an annoyed expression. Barbie still couldn’t see it. 

“So not fully,” Arthur hummed as if he thought of it thoroughly before he suggested, “Y’wanna ride around the track before FP1?” 

Mick’s jaw slacked at the suggestion, baffled that Arthur — that ANYONE — had the audacity to even say that in front of him. To Barbie!

But then he remembered that she didn’t have a friend besides Arthur. THAT and nobody knew they were dating. So he couldn’t exactly protest. 

Arthur’s grin meant a lot more than a friendly gesture. It was a shit-eating grin and Mick was at the receiving end of it. He couldn’t even say anything that’ll aggravate anyone.

God, Charles’ offer to give Arthur some hell was starting to sound like a good deal. 

“I don’t have any scooter,” she told him, not even noticing the glare that Mick held while Arthur continued to smile like a piece of shit. 

The Monegasque hopped off the scooter and said, “I’ll just borrow Ollie’s. I’m sure the lad wouldn’t mind, would he?” But he was looking at Mick. 

Mick’s glare disappeared for a moment when Barbie turned to him and asked, “I’ll take a lap or two at the track, if that’s okay?” 

His annoyed expression dissipated quickly while Arthur grinned at the sudden shift in Mick’s emotion as he encouraged Barbie softly, “Yeah okay. Careful, alright?” 

“Thanks, Schums,” Barbie grinned before she ran towards the scooter that Arthur parked. She was too excited to ride the scooter that she didn’t notice Mick glaring at Arthur.

Arthur saw it though, and all he did was raise a thumb and winked. “Don’t worry, Mick, I’ll return her to you in one piece. She’ll have a fun time.” Then he ran after Barbie who already got a head start towards the Ferrari garage. 

Mick huffed and asked his manager about his phone. When he finally got his hands on it, he immediately texted Charles. 

Mick: Your brother is a prat.

Charles: I’m gonna pretend that that's news to me. What did the boy do now? 

Mick: He’s an asshole. I love him but he’s cooking up something Charles. 

Charles: Yeah, welcome to the club. I can still do something just lmk

Charles: Oi, where did you take Barbie again? And why are you being you?

Arthur: Wha? I’m just taking her on a quick trip around the track.

Charles: You do know that Mick likes her right? No like LOVE LOVES her

Arthur: Oh I know Shal :)

Arthur: Sure, Barbie can do anything— but maybe it’s time Ken does something too? 

Charles: Stop being so cryptic and get her back to the garage safely, idiot. FP1 is starting soon.

“I’m actually gonna rip my own eardrums off if I hear his name one more time, oh my god.” 

Esteban Ocon and Lance Stroll exchanged looks as they just witnessed Mick Schumacher’s first breakdown of the season. It was not just any regular on the track related breakdown — seeing as he was slumped down on the table with his blue eyes hiding away from everyone, his head resting over his forearms while he continued to wear his race suit. He hadn’t taken off his race suit and unlike the others, and clearly whatever the hell was going on with him it wasn’t racing related. 

“Who?” 

“That other Leclerc guy,” Mick muttered while he kept his head down.

“Does this have something to do with what’s been going around about Barbie and Art—“

“Yes, Lance! Say his name one more time,” Mick exclaimed, rolling his eyes in the process. Lance scoffed at the attitude being given to him, making Mick quietly murmur, “Sorry. Yeah it’s about that.”

“What about it?” Esteban asked as he bit on his granola bar, “Barbie and Arthur are friends, no?” 

“And that’s the thing,” Mick said exasperatedly, “they are friends. Just friends— they’re not a thing.”

“Why are you so obsessed about that,” Lance asked genuinely, “it’s not like you two are a thing anyways. They can date if they feel like it. Arthur can woo her as much as he’d like as long as she permits him.” 

Mick looked defeated, pouting slightly as he kept his head down. Yeah. He had nothing to say anymore. He was done ranting.

But Esteban wouldn’t live that down. Mick’s reaction. It was as if the blond guy had something more to say but chose to keep his mouth shut. “Ah, so you fucked up, Mick?” 

Lance’s eyes widened at Esteban’s claim as Mick looked at the Frenchman with a questioning expression. Esteban continued to interrogate the man in question, “Mick, why haven’t you posted anything about Barbie since…  I dunno… since Imola?” 

“I- what?” 

Lance, seemingly amused by Esteban’s words, had also given his input, “And why isn’t she here with us…? Why are you way too far from her right now, Mick?” 

“It’s obvious you have a crush on her. That's why she was sticking with you most of the time and you’ve posted your photos and hers all the time. So,” Esteban leaned over and stared directly at Mick’s eyes. “Why is she with Arthur Leclerc?” 

“I’m keeping my mouth shut,” Mick leaned back, but Lance too had gotten into the interrogation as he offered an idea. 

“Have you two fallen off?” 

“No? What made you think that? She’s still my guest no?”

“Is she dating Arthur?”

“No,” Mick scoffed, “she would’ve told me otherwise.”

“Do you think she’s dating Arthur?”

“No,” Mick answered.

“Do you want her to date Arthur?” That was the final nail in the coffin. 

“What- no! Guys for fuck’s sake! She’s my girlfriend!” 

“AHA!” Mick’s claim might’ve been quiet enough for the two to hear but Lance and Esteban’s reactions were the opposite. Lance accidentally banged his knee against the table and Esteban stood and pointed at Mick, catching the attention of everyone inside the paddock area. 

Mick swore that he was being selfish and he was planning to do it until everything dies down. But even he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut because of some guy named Arthur Leclerc. He was spiraling.

Esteban sat back down and asked, “So why aren’t you posting her more than you should’ve now?”

“Does it matter? We both love each other and nobody needs to get into our business like that,” Mick muttered bitterly. “Our families are already after our asses about it before we even made things official.”

“Yeah but have you asked Barbie how she felt about that?” Lance counteracted before he pointed out, “Sure she agreed to keep it private. But you two— literally just before all of that, when Seb was still driving— she’d be trailing after you and you’d have your arms wrapped where friends shouldn’t be wrapping it around on. Now she’s not even getting all of that from you. The closest thing she’s gotten was a paddock pass.”

Their words sat with him throughout the weekend, but he never let it bother Barbie as he cuddled with her that night and the night before the race. 

He was outspoken when it came to Barbie. He absolutely loved her. But there was just something about keeping his relationship a secret that immediately became the norm. Everyone knew how in love he was with her, but to say it aloud all while they were in a relationship? It’s like he didn’t like the change when they finally became a couple. He was so used to being in love with her that he didn’t care about the labels. It was as if their relationship was already established from the beginning they didn’t need to say it aloud.

But the thing was that he needed to say it aloud. It was eating her alive regardless if Mick never saw it on her face. Everyone saw what he didn’t see. Maybe Arthur saw that too and was giving her the love she so deserved. 

Maybe it was time he showed it to the world as he normally did back before they even became a thing. He wanted normality right? Perhaps, this was it. He should go back to normal — with the exception of them being labelled as a couple rather than best friends. 

Mick was in P1 and he was sulking. He was fucking sulking because he just found another photo of Barbie arriving at the same club as he was in now with Arthur. 

This was what he didn’t like about being in a secret relationship while he kept getting podiums — and being a winner. You couldn’t even celebrate your win properly because you’ve decided to hide her away from everyone. 

Her black Oscar de la Renta dress didn’t do her beauty some justice. No matter how expensive it was, her face was exquisite enough to outdo her clothes. She held a single piece of rose on her hand and handed it to Mick with a sheepish smile. It was a way to congratulate him without having to be intimate in front of other people. 

But this past few weeks itself was insane. He didn’t even want a rose. He just wanted her and her genuine smile. It was his fault for wanting to keep their relationship a secret. 

An hour or two passed and Mick decided that it was time to head home. During his celebration he drank as much as Barbie did, happy to see her get wild. But the one that had him wishing he’d gone to celebrate in their hotel room was the way she danced wildly with Arthur as they had both gotten loose throughout the night. 

It was fairly quiet outside the club, signalling that the two of them had enough privacy to wait for their lift outside the venue. 

They were both too touchy feely to even be in public, but when Barbie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to express how proud she was of him and how happy she was to see him win — no matter how much she ached to hold him after he got out of the car but resorted to hiding away to his drivers room — he couldn’t help but press his lips against hers and devoured the love that she gave him. 

The next morning, Barbie had woken up witnessing him scroll through his gallery album full of their photos together. 

“Morning, liebe. Which ones do you think look good?” Mick asked her without missing a beat, turning his screen to her direction. 

“They all look nice. I can’t pick anything for wallpaper,” Barbie muttered as she wished to fall back asleep.

But it seemed like Mick had another plan, “It’s not for a wallpaper. I’m trying to post a dump photo of us on Instagram.”

Her eyes widened at the announcement as she turned to her side, giving him an incredulous expression. He smiled meekly, “Yeah… they were all blowing up my Twitter because they caught us making out—“

“What—“

“In public.”

“What? And you’re just posting photos of us to add more fuel to the fire?” Barbie shrieked, letting out a noise. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Esteban and Lance were right about being stupid for keeping you a secret,” Mick murmured guiltily. “I’ve shown some symptoms of being too in love with you before, so why can’t I do the same thing now that we’re actually together?”

“I hope it didn’t make you think that I was ashamed of you,” Mick continued, putting his phone down to turn to her direction, his hand reaching to spontaneously comfort her. “If anything I’m just trying to get them to mind their business.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Barbie huffed out, “you weren’t wrong about keeping it private.”

“Yeah but it wasn’t right to just pretend you aren’t something more to me,” Mick pressed a kiss on her forehead. “So I’ll be as proud as I can be of you. I don’t care if it’s public or private — I’ll be yours as long as you’re mine. Yes?”

Arthur: Did Mick finally spill?

Arthur: Fucking finally. I was ready to expose him on your behalf tbh.

fin.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam, Dean, and Y/N investigate a haunting in an abandoned asylum rescuing two teenagers who ventured in, they become trapped with the spirits of those who had died in a riot decades ago, one of which was a doctor who causes extreme rage in his victims.

Warnings: Cannon violence, murder and mentions of suicide, arguing, banter, usage and mention of guns, ghosts, panicking/ anxiety, a little bit of angst

A/N: There will be a confusing part where your like who is she talking about and to that I say all in due time. Also i’m sorry it seems like i’m giving up on this (I didn’t realize I posted the last part a month ago) IM NOT i’m just super busy with school, if you’ve taken APUSH you get it—i’m fighting for my life.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes, @star-yawnznn

Word Count: 11,033

Asylum

(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch)

I let out a big sigh, slumping in my chair as I do so, my head falling onto my laptop's keyboard, “How is your dad moving from place to place so fast”, I grumble into the keys. “Literally how!” My head shoots up as I complain, looking at Dean who sat across from me with his head propped up on one hand as he stared down at his fathers journal.

His eyes meet mine even as his head faces the book, his stare tells me everything I need to know. He’s also very frustrated, certainly more than me and he too has no answers.

I contemplate slamming my head against my keyboard when Sam walks back into their hotel room. His phone clasped tightly in his hand after he just went outside to call several people. “Caleb hasn't heard from him?” Dean asks his approaching brother even though the answer is written on his disappointed face.

“Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Paster Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?” Sam shoots back, referencing people the Winchesters knew. I had heard of them too, most of them really good friends of the boys but I never actually met them.

Now it’s Dean's turn to answer and complain, “No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out.... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frickin’ Yoda.”

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s.” Sam sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“But isn’t he like, you know…wanted?” I ask, considering being a Hunter comes with breaking a lot of laws, like a lot. “That and Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail” Dean adds.

Sam’s face contorts into anger, “I don't care anymore.” Suddenly a cell phone rings from across the room, Dean's phone to be exact who immediately goes over to his bag. Sam huffs something between a sigh and a frustrated grunt, “After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and...nothing.”

“I know!” Dean yells loudly, snapping, the sound echoing off the ill painted walls. He rummages through his duffel rougher, “Where the hell is my cellphone?”

“You know, he could be dead for all we know.”

“Don't say that!” He snaps again, “He's not dead! He's – he's…”

“He’s not dead, your father is good at what he does. I'm sure he’s just caught up in something.” I tried to reason, turning in my chair so I could face both boys.

“Like that’s a good excuse” Sam spits back.

“Hey, I never said it was! But it certainly is a better and more optimistic view than death!” I lecture, my face scrunching up in offense.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles quietly getting our attention, “I don't believe it.” His words stopped Sam from saying anything further to me. His focus turned back on his brother, “What?” He asks.

“It's, uh....It's a text message. It's coordinates.” Dean answers and it’s clear who the message is from. I want to turn to Sam and say ‘Ha! told you so!’ but I hold back on the childish, but totally correct, notion. Before Sam can say anything snarky about the message Dean cuts him off, “Can I steal that?” He asks me to point to my open laptop. I nod my head quickly, “Go ahead.”

He walks back over to the table turning my laptop until it’s facing him and where he sat. “You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asks as his brother types away.

“He's given us coordinates before.” Dean answers.

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

“To be fair, a toaster and coordinates are pretty different. All you need is a paper map” I cut in, earning a hard glance from Sam. I could not explain why he suddenly had a problem with me other than the fact I disagreed with him, which in that case makes him just as childish as I wanted to be.

“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.” Dean adds, arguing.

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?” Sam pushes, still somehow convinced it isn’t his Dad which when I think about it is pretty harsh. Would he rather his dad was dead? Probably not.

Dean answers, “Nah, it said 'unknown'.”

“Well, where do the coordinates point?” Sam follows up.

“That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois.”

“Ok, a little random, but what’s specifically so interesting about Illinois?” I ask this time.

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He turns my laptop around with a news article zoomed in on a black and white photo of a cop, “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

“Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam asks, again I want to say something about him asking a dumb question but I hold back not wanting any more sass from him or anyone.

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” He scoots my laptop back, pulling open his Dads stuffed journal that sat on the table. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

Sam snorts, “This is a job... Dad wants us to work a job.”

Dean shrugs, “Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?”

“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.” Sam snaps back.

“Does it matter? I mean we know it’s a hunt and we get to help people. I don’t see a loss in going.” I say, half shrugging.

“This doesn't strike either of you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam argues, his head snapping from his brother to me. It’s a good point to be honest but what else is there to do? Though I do not make that question vocal.

“Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.” Dean yells, final word. Sam makes a nasty bitchface and sighs, saying nothing more.

I lean against the cold exterior of the Impala, my arms crossed against my chest to fend off any bit of the cold night even with my layers on. I could go inside the car but standing outside, right at the front of the car, felt more productive while waiting for the boys to finish their whole “skit” for information.

Dean would go in and antagonize the partner of the cop from the article which would inevitably fail. So Sam would be waiting there telling Dean, who he pretends to not know, to (in a lack of a better word) f- off so that Sam could weasel his way into questioning.

A very complicated plan for a bunch of dummies. I sigh again, my eyes closing in the progress, I try to force the tension out of my body, all the arguing infecting my usual good mood.

I open my eyes back up only to round the car and find it locked. My head falls forward, my chin touching my chest, of course Dean would lock his precious car. I glanced around me, barely anyone lingering outside except some people up against the bar smoking or leaving to go elsewhere, no one was looking so I gingerly tapped the handle, a swirl of purple mist leaving my fingertip until it slithered its way into the car and its mechanics. With a satisfying click the little lock pokes up, I grin as I pull open the door leaning in only to rustle through my bag and pull out my book.

Dean would have to forgive me, though my little trick did nothing to harm the car to begin with. I push down the lock, jabbing into my palm as I do so, closing the door behind me I make my way to the front of the car once more leaning against it as I open up my worn book of Little Women for the hundredth time. The pages had long begun to yellow though it only went as far as a light yellow, still the crisp smell of an old book wafted into my nose, serenity finding me.

Suddenly the bar door slams open, startling me for a moment after getting lost in the prospect of an escape. Dean quickly walks over to where I was waiting looking extra grumpy, his eyebrows scrunched together with his arms thrown out, “He pushed me so hard!” He nearly yells, his choice of words were childish at worst and yet it was very amusing. “Why are you reading that again?” He asks, suddenly pointing at my book.

“‘Cause I love it” I smile simply.

“Haven’t you read that a hundred times?” he asks, moving next to me, leaning against the car too.

“Give or take” I laugh lightly, “It’s one of my many comfort books.” I mark my spot before shutting the book. “I’m guessing your silly plan worked?” I ask him as he leans closer to me. He gives me that devilish smirk, “Not silly if it worked, sweetheart.”

Some time later Sam exits the bar, “Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy” Dean spits.

“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting.” Sam bites back, just tension building on more tension. But there’s only so much the atmosphere or people can take before it blows up.

“Huh?”

“It’s like immersing yourself emotionally and psychologically with your character” I whisper before closing my book shut. But instead of clarity crossing over Dean's face he looks just as confused if not a little more. Sam sighs, “Never mind.”

“Okay so what’d he tell you?” I ask.

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.” Sam explains. Basically nothing to suggest him suddenly committing a murder suicide.

“What about at home?” Dean shoots back.

“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.” Sam answers, I frown at the last part there was a whole life they could have lived.

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him.” Dean acknowledges.

“Well did anything happen as of supper recently that would even hint to a psychotic break?” I ask even though based on what we have it didn’t seem likely.

“No” Sam shakes his head, “Not that he mentioned at least.” I nod my head making a small mental note of that possibility, although unlikely, just in case.

“What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?” Dean questions.

“A lot.”

A loud horn blares from a nearby truck as Sam makes his way over the tall fence. With Dean slightly ahead of me I begin to climb the chain linked fence, I get a small jumping start clutching on to the cold fence. I shove my shoes into the little groves as I make my way up swiftly, being able to lift my legs high enough that I could make it to the top in about four moves. I balance myself on top of it before swinging my leg over it, I reposition myself to dangle slightly as my feet find purchase in the fence when about half way down I just decide to jump the rest of the way, landing on my feet in an almost crouched position.

The asylum itself didn’t look like it was falling apart but the overgrown bushes on the plot, the moss covering the building and the boarded up windows were a tell-tale tell sign enough that it was abandoned. The only thing keeping it from being entirely creepy was the early morning sun.

The door had no lock on it most likely from all the trespassing. But just as the door fell open an immediate musty smell hit my nose from all the trash covering the floor from beer bottles and cans to random bits of paper. Every surface of the walls was covered by either graffiti or mold, only small hints of the old green wallpaper left behind. “So apparently the cops chased the kids here....into the south wing.” Sam points to the sign hung over the door. The letters were mostly peeling, just another sign of the aging building.

“South wing, huh?” Dean breathes out, “Wait a second.” He pulls out his Dada journal from the inside pocket of his coat, flipping the pages until he found whatever he was looking for, “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So the South Wing seems to be the route of this all” I remark.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean points out, looking up from the journal. Sam notes the rusted, broken chains hanging from the handle of the door, “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years.”

“Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in.” Dean comments.

I cringe, “Is it really necessary to say such ominous things?”

“What? It’s the truth” Dean shrugs and I roll my eyes.

“Are you guys done?” Sam asks looking at us impatiently

“Yeah yeah open the door” I say before quickly adding a mumble of, “I hope a rat jumps out at you”

Sam looks at me with a mix of being offended and being annoyed, “Why would you say that?”

“Sorry!” I say half meaning it, “It’s an abandoned building and all so you know…rats”

“Just” Dean starts, him being the annoyed one now, “Open the door.” Sam nods, carefully opening the rusted door with a creek revealing a long creepy hallway, but at last no rats scurry out. The long hall was somehow only slightly better than the entrance with the walls peeling of its paint, most of it replaced by mold which only increases as the hallway extends, if we get sick we’ll know why that’s for sure.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.” Dean jokes, lighting the mood as he pulls out his EMF reader, referencing the movie Six Sense. “Dude, enough.” Sam groans.

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.” Dean says. Without missing a beat, Sam bites back, “I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell.”

“Anything going on with your EMF?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. “Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.” Dean answers.

“Well, spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day.” Sam adds.

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.” Dean comments.

The room falls quiet for a moment before Dean speaks up again, “Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Sam pushes his brother in response. “Oh definitely Jennifer Love Hewitt, I mean did you see her in Shortcut to Happiness ‘cause…wow” I answer before quickly adding, “No offense Sammy.” But Sam pushes me lightly too, a laugh bubbling up from my chest as I nearly knock into the moldy wall.

We enter a room that smells worse than the main entrance area, the culprit of the rotting flesh smell most likely being whatever pink goop is spilling out of a glass jar with liquid on a table in the far corner. This asylum was truly amazing at one-upping itself in terms of being horrible. The entire room is bad itself, all sorts of equipment they used on patients long ago when they had no clue what a mental illness really was or how to help people who struggled with it.

“God, they did such horrible things to these poor people” I remarked, stepping deeper into the room. The sight of a clearly used surgery table sending a shiver down my spine. Dean lets out a low whistle, “Electro-shock. Lobotomies…”

“Did you know JFK’s sister got a lobotomy done because she suffered from seizures and mood swings. But it only wound up leaving her permanently incapacitated and unable to properly speak, only goes to show how little they knew about all that stuff” I say, recalling a fact I remember reading about somewhere in an article.

“‘That one of your fun facts?” Dean inquires, clearly humoring me. I hum a “mhm” as I bend down slightly to look at a glass container filled with some sort of yellow liquid. I almost expect something equally as gross to be inside but there isn’t.

“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?” Dean asks out loud to no one in particular.

“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting.” Sam answers, listing out examples of cases in which people claimed the devil had told them to do something bad and or possessed them. “Or Son of Sam, though that guy was just a basket case who admitted to lying about that demon bit” I add.

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean quips in, always with his references. I look up from the vials of I don’t know what to see him grinning, a smile forming on my own face at his charming expression.

“Dean.” Sam calls out, gaining his brother's attention, “When are we going to talk about it?” Uneasiness slips its way into the cracks of the building, finding us. “Talk about what?” Dean asks back, but I have a feeling he knows what he’s talking about, it was clear as day. “About the fact Dad's not here.” Sam answers, already clearly annoyed. I straightened up, moving an inch closer to where they stood in the middle of the room in case I had to break up another fight. It hadn’t been anywhere close to a week from the last time I had to do so back in Kansas. “Oh. I see.” Dean replies, “How ’bout...never.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “I'm being serious, man. He sent us here…” Dean cuts in immediately, “So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later.” They moved closer to each other with each word they spat, up until they got close enough that they would be able to throw a punch if they decided to. “It doesn't matter what he wants.” Sam argues.

“See. That attitude? Right there?” Dean points at him, “That is why I always get the extra cookie.”

“Guys come on, you can argue this later let’s just finish this hunt” I sigh, crossing my arms across my chest. Sam glares at me as if to say “stay out of this”, I get why they’re upset but all this arguing gets us nowhere and it’s beginning to get annoying. Sam turns back to his brother, “Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.” Dean replies rather calmly. I don’t necessarily like John, knowing everything he put my boys through made it hard to. But he was their Dad and Dean wanted my help and so I will help find their Dad, even if I mostly agree with Sam. “So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam spits, and I almost hate the fact that I do agree with him.

I try to ignore their arguing, knowing they wouldn’t let up, it wasn’t the sort of argument where someone won. I open a drawer near me, cobwebs and multiple clippings from old patient files filling it. “Of course we do.” I hear Dean answer.

I carefully take the clippings out, trying to avoid the cobwebs. I look through the handful quickly everything either ripped off or eradicated except bits of the Doctor's name. “If you're done over there it seems the main evil doctor was ‘Sanford Ellicott’. We should probably research him and the south wing, see what we can find” I say plainly, hoping this could all be over with soon so at least they would stop fighting.

I keep my legs up on the soft chair, my knees to my chest as I read my book. Dean is sitting next to me, his arm resting on the back of my chair, his legs spread widely. From my peripheral vision I see him stare up at the ceiling clearly bored as we wait for his brother to be done in therapy, or really done questioning the apparent son of Dr.Ellicott.

He groans, the noise coming from deep in his chest. I put my bookmark back in my book, shutting it and putting it next to me. I put my arms on my propped up knees lying the side of my face down on them, my cheek squishing against my arm as I peer at Dean. The immediate thought of how good he looks with his head thrown back, a very light stubble gracing his face, his eyes looking greener with the light shining from behind us and—

I shove the thought far into the back of my mind, it wasn’t the time for this not at all. Not even a little. “‘You okay?” I ask softly.

He rolls his head to the side, eyeing me “Sammy’s taking too damn long. He’s already pissed me off.”

“He wouldn’t be taking long unless it was necessary” I answer, smiling at his demeanor. He groans again, “Do you wanna go get coffee? I saw a place a block away, Sam can text when he’s done.” I offer, hoping it would distract him from being so pissed off. He leans his head up, squinting at me, “Is this your attempt at curing my boredom?”

“That depends, is it working?” I squint back at him as I lift my head from my arms, laughter threatening to bubble from my lips.

“Yes” He nods, throwing his hand on my knee, “Let’s go” but he keeps his hand there, a giddy nervousness settling itself in my stomach.

“See I told you couples therapy works!” a hushed voice says catching our attention. I look up to see a red headed girl and her tan boyfriend walking past us without trying to hide their stares, “Wer— we aren’t—“ I try to say loud enough for them to hear but my voice doesn't reach them, “Actually” I sigh, my face feeling warm, “it’s probably best if they just go to therapy.”

I turn my head back towards Dean, finding him already looking at me with scrunched eyebrows, studying me as if he was contemplating something. I place my hand over his, only realizing then my hands were cold when compared to his warm ones, “Ready?” I ask softly. He clears his throat abruptly, nodding his head as he removes his hand from my knee and gets up. I make sure to grab my book as I follow suit, but we only reach the door when a familiar tall figure walks right past us.

Dean's body language changes, he turns back to me confused and annoyed before pushing through the door. Tension clearly already has made its home in his back and shoulders. “Dude! You were in there forever, we were about to leave you. What the hell were you talking about?” He calls out towards his brother, easily matching his pace.

“Just the hospital, you know.” Sam answers plainly. I jog to catch up to them and their stupid long legs, “What’d you find?” I ask.

“The south wing? It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane.” “Sounds cozy.” Dean remarks.

“Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other.” Sam elaborates.

“Any deaths? Dean follows up.

“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”

“Did they…stuff him somewhere. I mean I feel like the place is only so big, right?” I hesitantly say.

Sam shrugs, “Cops scoured every inch of the place.”

“That's grim.” Dean murmurs just as we reach the Impala. “Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down” Sam says as he rounds the car.

“So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.” Dean lists out.

“And a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam adds

“Cute.” I remark, sarcastically.

“Let's check out the hospital tonight.” Dean finishes, opening the car door.

I shine my flashlight over the asylum, naturally in the darkness of the night it was far creepier than it was only hours before. I follow behind the boys as they enter the dingy entrance, making sure I don’t hit into the duffle bag hanging from Dean's shoulder. “‘You guys getting anything?” I ask since they hold the equipment. Dean holds his EMF reader out in front of him, “Yeah, big time.”

“This place is orbing like crazy.” Sam adds, looking at the screen of the camera he holds. “Eww, why would you say it like that?” I cringe before mimicking the way he said “orbing.” Sam turns around slowly, glaring at me “How mature of you, Y/n” he deadpans. “Hey i’m just calling it as it is” I respond in defense. He glares at me one last time, turning back around and I hear him mimic what I said. I’m about to hit him on the arm when Dean starts speaking, he looks between us, ultimately choosing to ignore our childish behavior, “There’s probably multiple spirits out and about.”

Sam added “And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…”

“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em.” Dean finishes, “Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” With that we keep walking until we hit the same room we were in the last time we were here, not having gone any further than that the first time around.

We walk a few feet further separating into three different rooms. I scanned my flashlight over the dark room, it had no windows though even if it did it would have been boarded up meaning no natural light to begin with had it been daytime. It was a relatively small room with more graffiti lining the originally white walls. I take a single step into the room, glass crunching underneath my shoe, I lift my foot immediately, kicking the broken glass bottle to the side.

I move further into the room, an overturned desk and a long gone broken lamp on the floor. Must have been a little office, I think to myself as I walk over to the desk finding a small knocked over filing cabinet. I nudged the metal cabinet with my foot, testing to see if anything wanted to make an appearance…like a rat.

When nothing comes from it I twirl my finger, an invisible force turning the cabinet right side up making it accessible. I pull each draw open, still cautious of any critters crawling out, hoping that there would be some hint as to where to look for the unfound bodies. “Y/n” I hear my name called out from behind me.

“Yeah?” I say turning around but there’s no one there. I shine my flashlight first on the doorway, only shadows dancing on the outskirts of my light. I purse my lips, a small pinch of fear forming itself in my heart. I move my flashlight slowly to shine in the corner, every hair on my body standing up. An old man with deep sunken eyes stands in the corner, his body permanently hunched over with his head tilted to the side. Countless needles stick out from his ghostly body, piercing through his hospital gown.

My mouth goes slack with an almost scream in warning to the boys. Still the man doesn't move, he just stares at me which is arguably worse than if he lunged at me, his mouth moves as if in an attempt to say something but his jaw is broken and the words come out in an extended noise. “b….b…b—“ The loud sound of a shotgun goes off just across from the man, my head snaps in the direction of the doorway, a breathless Dean standing there his gun still pointed at the man. “We thought something happened!” Sam half yells, standing right behind his brother.

“I literally haven’t moved from here” I respond, looking back at the corner where he stood. “You okay sweetheart?” Dean asks. I nod, “Yeah, I mean he didn’t do anything he was just—“

“Standing there” Sam finishes my sentence, “See I told you!”—he nudges his brother—“There’s something weird with the spirits here, they aren’t being aggressive-“ I cut him off this time, concern and confusion making my eyebrows scrunch together, “Wait you encountered a spirit?”

“You didn’t hear Sammy scream for us? Or the gun?” Dean asks. I look between them only being more confused, “No, what are you talking about?!” Except they don’t answer, only looking at each other and then back at me, eyes wide, “Alright something really is going on” Dean admits.

They begin to shuffle out of the room, and I follow, we walk aimlessly down the hall in thought when suddenly a noise like metal scraping against the floor comes from a room just steps away. Dean immediately raises his shotgun, carefully entering the room with Sam and I acting as the lightning. The room had a singular upturned bed facing the only window in the small room, a ragged sheet covering the bed barely concealing the top of a blonde head. We all share a look, bracing ourselves, Sam reaches out tipping over the bed causing it to come down with a loud crash. A young girl sits crouched on the floor, panting and grasping her chest.

“It's alright, we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?” Dean asks the poor girl, moving his gun down and away from the girl. “Katherine. Kat.” She answers, peering up at us with her big brown eyes.

“What are you doing here!?” Sam half yells at her. I hit his arm, “You suck at comforting people” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear, nearly missing the glare I received in return. I move past Dean leaning down towards the girl, offering my hand to help her up. You can comfort someone without making them seem incapable. She eyes me carefully for a beat before shakily reaching up and taking my hand, “Um. My boyfriend, Gavin” she answers as I lift her up. “Is he here?” Dean asks.

She lets go of my hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears, “Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts” she explains, "I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and... “

“Alright.” Dean responds, pausing for a beat as if to go over the plan he most definitely already made, “Kat? Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.”

“No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.” Kat declares, looking frantically between us all.

“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous.” Dean lectures, his voice getting increasingly louder. “That's why I gotta find him” she answers, her voice stern and straight regardless of being clearly shaken up. Dean meets Sam and then my eyes, “Alright, I guess we gunna split up then. Y/N with Sam, Kat with me. Let’s go.”

I lead the way out this time, Sam right next to me as we go down hallway after hallway. Each one seemingly more intricate than the last, if that was even possible. I hope Sam is keeping track of where we are because I’m already lost.

“Gavin?” I call out, peeking around each hallway corner. Is it possible he left? No he wouldn’t leave his girlfriend, right? Though the asylum is huge and he could be anywhere—“Y/N! Over here!” Sam calls out from down the hallway to my left. I swirl around heading towards him, crouched down near a rouge hospital bed, I hear him speak as I approach “Hey, Gavin. It's okay, I’m here to help.”

“Who are you?” He responds, fixing his brown hair as he pushes himself away from Sam knocking into the wall behind him in the process. “My name is Sam, that’s Y/N” he gestures towards me, “Uh, we found your girlfriend.”

“Kat?” He asks his brown eyes widening, he gets up revealing his height. He isn't as tall as Sam, probably closer to Dean's height then anything but he was certainly taller then me and his girlfriend. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?” Sam responds.

“I was running. I think I fell.” He lifts his hand to the side of his head, his corduroy jacket moving with him. “What were you running from?” I ask.

“There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up.”

“Okay listen, did this girl... did she try and hurt you?” Sam follows up, asking carefully. “What? No, she...uh…”

“She what?” Sam asks, impatience on the tip of his tongue.

“She...kissed me.”

…The hall falls silent, neither of us expecting that to be his answer. I’ve never heard of a case in which someone was kissed by a ghost. I mean that’s just disgusting and horrifying, no amount of mouthwash can fix that…or therapy. “Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?” Sam finally says.

“Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!” Gavin yells, his eyes widening again. “Well, trust me, it could have been worse.” Sam replies, again not much on the comforting side. Plus I feel like I’d rather be thrown ten feet then kissed by a ghost. “I’m sorry we have to pressure you like this now after you just experienced that but is there anything else you remember?” I ask softly.

“She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.” He answers shyly, almost embarrassed by all this. “What?” Sam shoots back.

“I don't know. I ran like hell.” He answers truthfully.

“That’s the third encounter without an attack” Sam thinks out loud. Gavin glares at him sharply, “Oh…Um…besides the…Uh…kissing” Sam adds.

“Can we really trust that the South Wing really did have violent patients? I mean the workers here aren’t exactly the most reliable considering everything they’ve done to these poor people” I mention.

“She’s got a point” Gavin intervenes. We both look at him, “Um yeah. But what if they were trying to tell us something?” Sam says.

“You mean like some hint as to where uh…” I look over at Gavin knowing I can’t exactly say a rotting body somewhere, “you know is” I mumble looking back at Sam. “Yeah” he answers just as a loud scream rings out from afar. We all share a look of confusion and worry, “That sounds like Kat!” Gavin says. Not waiting a second later we go off running in the direction of the screaming, just about everything you're not supposed to do.

Just down the hall Dean is banging on a huge metal door with a pipe. “What’s going on?” Sam asks just as we approach.

“She's inside with one of them.” He answers his breath a little labored. Kay screams again, “Help me!!”

“Kat!” Gavin yells back banging on the door.

“Get me outta here!” She shouts.

I hide my hand behind my hip making sure to look down, to avoid having to explain anything to Gavin later. With my concealed hand I reached it over to the metal door, my fingertips barely brushing the cold exterior before a hand wrapped around my wrist pulling it forth. “Wait” Sam said sternly, dropping my wrist. I turn my head to look at Dean with questioning eyes as if he would have a reason why his brother stopped me. But when I look at him he’s looking between my wrist and his brother, his eyes scrunched in offense and what may look like anger, upset he stopped me, because doing so might be risking an innocent girl's life.

“Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.” Sam commands, talking to Kat through the door. He must be thinking back to what we said before. “She's gotta what?!” Dean yells, astonished.

“I have to what?!” Kat shouts back.

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate.” Sam explains, indeed referencing what we were discussing before I just hope he’s right, “You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“You face it!” Kat snaps back. A smile threatening to show on my lips. “No! It's the only way to get out of there” Sam insists.

“No!” Kat screams.

“Sam, come on let me get her out” I say quietly hoping only those who know about my abilities can hear me. “No” He says towards me before directing his voice towards the door, “Look at it, come on. You can do it.”

She seems to listen to him, no more screams against his plan. We all wait impatiently, the air thick with anxiety, if this doesn’t work then we caused a very avoidable death. “Kat?” Gavin calls out.

“Man, I hope you're right about this.” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah, me too” Sam nods.

“No offense Sammy, but you should have voiced your concern before” I bite, crossing my arms across my chest.

Suddenly the door creaks open slowly, Kat peeking out. Her eyes are wide and blank, clearly startled and traumatized. “Oh, Kat” Gavin murmurs, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

Sam maneuvers himself around them, opening the large door further to get past them into the room. He comes back out not even a minute later shaking his head, whatever spirit was in there isn’t anymore.

“One thirty-seven.” Kay says suddenly, wiping away her teary eyes.

“Sorry?” Dean looks at her, puzzled.

“It whispered in my ear. 137.” She clarified.

“Room number.” The boys and I said in sync, our eyes wide in clarity.

“Jinx” I say quickly pointing towards the boys. Dean groans, “You always win.”

I beam, looking up at him, “You just always forget.”

“Yeah cause he’s actually focused on the hunt” Sam quipped, annoyed. “Hey I am foc-“ I try to defend only getting cut off by Sam nudging Dean and I down the hall out of hearing reach throwing a “Excuse us” to the two teens.

“Alright. So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…” Sam starts getting his sentence finished by his brother, “Then what are they trying to do?”

“Maybe they're helping us out” I shrug, “Giving us hints?”

“I guess we'll find out.” Dean huffs.

“Alright.” Sam confirms, nothing more to be said.

Dean separates from our little huddle calling out to the kids waiting on us, “So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?”

“That's an understatement.” Kat remarks.

“Okay.” He turns back to us, “Sam you get them outta here. Y/N were going to go find room 137.”

“Isn’t it best that I go with Sam?, make sure they can get out” I ask, not to say that I don’t want to go with Dean but still trying to be reasonable.

“If the spirits suddenly decide to get rowdy and gang up on me like they did Doc, I’d want you on my side” Dean answers, making a motion with his hands weirdly that I suppose is meant to represent my abilities. “Ok fair enough” I shrug, not needing any more convincing. Sam moves away towards Kat and Gavin. Dean and I waited until they were out of sight, getting led by Sam, before moving to find room 137.

We only move a few feet when I notice the lack of something in Dean's hand, “What happened to your flashlight?” I ask. He pulls back the side of his grayish-blue button down jacket exposing the thick flashlight tucked into his jeans, “Died jus’ before Kat got dragged into that room” he explains. I reluctantly drag my eyes back up to his face, a flashlight held in his jeans shouldn't have been hot, I give him a single awkward nod before forcing my eyes back in front of me.

“I think it’s down this way” He nudges my arm just as we get to the end of the long hallway, pointing left. I point my flashlight in that direction, the light illuminating the continuous mess of the asylum, “How do you know?” I ask. He shrugs, “Intuition.” I followed him down the hall even under the weak assumption, there were hardly any sign indicators and if there were they were unreadable due to destruction or graffiti.

I give him a look as we walk the hall, not finding the room. “I meant the next one over” he says with a stupid smile on his face. “Oh yeah of course” I nod, playing into whatever you want to call this.

He mumbles the room number underneath his breath, an excited-nervous energy surrounding him as we approach the supposed right hallway. It was adorable.

“Look who was right.” He says, his voice coming from behind me. I turn towards him an even bigger smile on his face, I lift my flashlight to shine where the number would be. “Let’s just hope the ghost wasn’t tricking us” I huff.

He goes to push the door open only to find it stuck on something, he grunts putting more of his body weight on the door until it’s open enough to let us through. The room is a mess (but what else is new for this place), filing cabinets pushed over, papers everywhere, the walls stained with something that I think I’d rather not know. I shine the flashlight around going over to one of the filing cabinets opening it to find manila folders, I flick through them. More patient files but nothing of use as of now.

I whirl around to find Dean crouched down in the back of the room, prying off a wooden panel. He finally gets it off with a loud cracking noise, “This is why I get paid the big bucks.” he murmurs, the only indication that he found something. “You don’t get paid any bucks” I responded.

He turns his head slowly to me in offense holding up a deteriorating satchel in one hand and a mess of papers in the other. He gets up handing me the stack of papers and with his foot drags up a nearby chair scooting it close for me before dragging up one for himself. I go through my stack, a bunch of drawn images of medical instruments like lobotomy pick, straight jackets and cuffs, and other drawings with no labels but incredibly detailed writing and drawings that were nothing more than torture. “This feels like a messed up book club” I comment.

“Yeah check this out. Dr. here believed that provoking extreme anger would be therapeutic.” He explains, “Seems like all he ever did was work on this theory.”

“I think I read a research paper from 2002 on a similar idea called catharsis” I explain, “It basically means venting out negative emotions, especially anger. However researchers found it did the opposite and more likely increased aggression. But I guess in this case he was forcing it rather than the patients venting out anger they had from past traumas or anything of the sort.”

I know he is listening to my rant, his eyes moving up from the book to look at me before going back to the journal, his eyes scrunched in concern at what he read, “All work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy.”

I nearly laugh when a sudden creak comes from the hall, I look to Dean to find him with just as a confused face as mine. He had heard it too. He makes a “give me” motion so I hand over the papers, he puts them and the journal he read from back in the satchel. Without saying anything I knew he was moving us to check up on Sammy.

We manage our way back to the room Kat got locked into, but from there it winds up being a maze as to where Sammy could be. Lefts and rights and accidentally going in large circles. “Alright one more hallway and then we’re calling him” I plead, getting frustrated at this stupid musty asylum. “Deal” Dean nods.

The floor was particularly bad in this hall, each step followed by a creak each one louder then the next. Just as we reach the end of the hallway and turn right, for a split second, Kat stands there shotgun raised at us, her finger on the trigger. She shoots. Dean throws himself backwards, his arm going out right in front of me pushing me back against the corner wall out of the way from danger. Both of us were up against the wall next to each other, his arm just beneath my breasts holding me in place. A large puff of white smoke looking substance flies out from the wall, bits of the wall crumbling to the floor just by Dean's shoulder opposite to the one near me. Acting as the only signs of where the bullet had gone.

Our labored breaths nearly matched each other's, chests heaving. His arm remains where it is even when no more shots ring out, he yells, “Damn it, damn it, don’t shoot! It's us!!”

“Sorry! Sorry.” Kat meekly cries out.

“Jesus Chri-“ I peered around Dean's body at the shot, she would have killed us. Impressive. I bring a shaky hand up to the arm that still held me, he drops his arm allowing me to move past him and round the corner to the people who nearly ended us.

“What are you still doing here?! You're supposed to be gone! Also, why are you good with a gun?!” I exclaim. Dean immediately adding, “Where’s Sam?” Our rushed voices combining for a melody of pressured questions.

“He went to the basement. You called him.” Gavin answers, pointing to Dean. “I didn't call anybody.” Dean replies, looking at me confused I shrug not having any idea myself.

“His cell phone rang. He said it was you.” Kat elaborates.

“Basement, huh?” Dean hums before turning to me, “I’m gonna go to Sam, get them out of here.”

“Wait no I should come with you” I say.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart, just get them out of here” He orders, but his voice is soft where it should be commanding. He takes the gun from Kat and before I can say anything more he’s running off.

I turn towards the door, trying to think of the least suspicious way possible to open the door. A chain with a lock lies on the floor just in front of my feet. It must not just be a locked door, perhaps it is the spirits here keeping it closed. I pull on the door handle letting my powers seep into the large door willing it open. It opens with another pull, having to use a lot of strength to open the old door. “Alright let’s go” I say, turning to the two behind me. They look at me with a mix of shock and confusion, “How di-“ Gavin asks before I cut him off, “It was just jammed” I lie.

I follow them down the steps and watch them climb over the fence. I wait until I see them physically get into the car, both kids looking back almost hesitant to leave us behind. But I have no time to help with their guilty conscience, I turn back toward the building immediately running up the steps and back into the asylum. I curse not knowing which way Dean exactly went or where the hell the basement was let alone where a staircase was.

In the dim, haunting corridors of the abandoned asylum, panic pulses through me like a heartbeat. The suffocating air clings to my skin as I navigate the labyrinth that is this building. Every step feels like a hesitant dance with the unknown. I try to suppress the fear clawing at my throat, envisioning worst-case scenarios involving Sam and Dean. Could they be hurt, trapped, dead? My thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, one that feels too overwhelming to control as pathetic as it sounds and feels.

Desperation fuels my movements as I sprint down seemingly endless hallways, each one a haunting replica of the last. It's a macabre maze, and my heart races with the urgency of finding the elusive staircase leading to the basement.

As I turn another corner, the harsh silence amplifies the echoes of my footsteps. "Sam! Dean!" I call out, my voice swallowed by the oppressive stillness. The only response is the distant moan of the decaying building. With determination fueling my every step, I press forward, driven by the desperate need to uncover the secrets hidden below. The dim light casts distorted shadows on peeling wallpaper, playing tricks on my eyes. Yet, I press on, the image of the elusive staircase driving me forward, my breath a rhythm of fear and determination.

As if the old building heard my pleas I spot a door just at the end of the hall, a medal bar for the handle and if it isn’t my eyes playing tricks on me then a small sign signifying a person walking up stairs lies on the small window on the door. I all but ran over, the thing I needed most lying right there. As I push open the door, anticipation and anxiety rests behind my rib cage, a reminder that finding the door wasn’t enough. I still needed to find them.

However, as the door creaks open, my heart sinks. Before me lies a staircase, but it ascends rather than descending. Everything that I do not need. I was being mocked. The staircase leading upward into the unknown when my every instinct demands a descent into the depths below.

I stand at the threshold, contemplating my next move. Panic threatens to resurface, but I force a deep breath, I know what I must do even when it is foreign to me. I had not trained in it, hadn’t studied it enough, so much of me was like that. So many abilities I could have and use but always dared to leave untouched, this being one of them. I knew only how to use it in such short distances, and only in spaces that I could see. Not like this.

But I’m afraid and desperate enough. I know the boys are very capable of taking care of themselves, yet an unmistakable fear lives behind my rib cage for those I love, a fear of losing them. I close my eyes. This staircase had to be close enough. My fear had to be enough. I force another deep breath, bracing my feet beneath me. I could picture the room around me even with my eyes sealed, focusing on how the walls stretched above me in my mind's eye.

I had not seen the basement, hadn’t a single idea what it even began to look like. Yet still I force my perception down, below the concrete laying underneath my shoes. But more than that I needed to find them, I try my best to picture them specifically even in an unknown location. The air seems to ripple around me, reality folding over itself.

I open my eyes, no longer in the stairwell but presumably in the basement. The only indication I’ve gone to the right place is the boy's only feet in front of me. What should be a triumphant moment is crushed under the scene in front of me.

Dean is on his back splayed across the floor, broken wall beneath him the concrete powder sticking to his clothes. Sam is standing over him, shotgun pointed down at his brother, I can not see his full face from here but I can see it is etched in anger. “Sam!” I yell, catching his attention. He turns to me, his face scrunched in disgust, he does not lower the gun.

“What the hell is hap-“ I try to ask but the gun goes off with a loud bang. Suddenly I’m in front of him, the bullets hitting the hall that laid behind me when I stood in the doorway. I teleported out of danger without a second's thought, I make a mental note for later as I punch Sammy square in the face, my knuckles hitting against his sharp jaw.

He stumbles back a few feet, my knuckles burn, he will have to forgive me later. I do not want to hurt him but I do need to stop him. I mumble a sorry, hooking my leg behind his, hitting into the back of his knee with my foot forcing his legs to collapse beneath him knocking him to his knees. I use his shock as leverage, easily pulling the gun from his hands, I point the gun at him even though I do not want to.

Dean groans still on the ground, only having leaned up from his position. Sam holds his hands up, “Shoot me” he spits. He was taunting me, testing me. “I have no need to” I answer calmly. He was possessed or influenced by the doctor here, this wasn’t really him, I knew that.

I hear Dean get up, panting and making small noises of pain. I look over at him from the corner of my eye, watching him hold just below his chest in pain, “You okay there?” I ask, earning a grumbled “yeah”. Dean drags himself to the front of the room where he must have dropped the duffle bag he was carrying.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam try to lunge towards me, I snap my attention back to him “Hey”,I warn, “Stop.” He looked even more pissed, his mouth twitching with words he wanted to say, “You think protecting him is gonna make him fall in love with you?” He says quietly. I check behind me but Dean makes no indication that he heard, I know it’s not really him speaking but the words still sting. “I’m not that diluted” I answered, turning back to him.

“You follow him around like a lost puppy, it’s pathetic” He laughs, “Really, you follow us around. But we don’t need you, we’d be better off without you. All you do is take up space.” The words bite into my skin, my heart suddenly feeling heavy. Losing my firm stance he grasps onto my ankle pulling it towards him sharply, knocking me on my ass hard. He punches me, his fist connecting with my nose, my eyes tearing up on its own accord with a harsh throbbing. He snatches the gun back when I hear movement towards us, without looking I shout back “I can take him, just find the body!”

Sam straddles my lap, his knees pinning my hands to the floor with an incredible amount of pain, and I can not pull my hands free. He grabs my chin roughly forcing my gaze on him, my neck leaning up at a weird angle, “You feel the need to be with us, it’s the only thing that fills the gap of being left behind your whole life.”

Hurt and anger burn my eyes. I move my face out of his hold and he lets me, I lean my head back before slamming it into his. The resounding clash of our heads echoed through the air, an abrupt collision that sent shockwaves of discomfort rippling through my skull. He loses slight balance, his knees leave my hands the feeling rushing back into them but I do not leave time for feelings of victory. I shove him back, using more force than I probably should have.

I stand up swiftly, stumbling over myself slightly, my head throbbing severely. “You” I point, breathing heavily, “Have a hard head.” He tries to reach for the gun but I kick it out of reach before he’s able to.

I knew Dean was close by even with the room being so large and divided, but I didn’t know how close he was to finishing up. There was a strong sense of dread in my stomach, I don’t want to fight anymore, maybe curl up into a ball and contemplate life but not fight. “Please, stay down” I beg, my eyes still teary from a mix of a reaction to the pain and just being upset.

He leans up, that horrible anger still etched on his face. I hold my hand up at him, extending my force outwards pinning him down with an invisible force. He struggles against it, his arms shaking. I grit my teeth, disgust tangling itself in my gut. Yes this was out of self defense and necessity but this wasn’t me. He was my friend, to restrain him in such a way…with my abilities…when I’m meant to help people.

I force my face away, a lump tight in my throat when I catch my reflection on a piece of broken glass in the far edge of the room. It was if I was being teased by the devil himself, staring at a reflection I wasn’t sure I even recognized. My eyes were fierce yet brimmed with tears, my pupils glowing purple. Where did this lie in morality? It felt wrong. So disgustingly wrong even if it was meant to be helpful.

Only a little longer, only until the remains were burnt and Sam was fine. “Y/N”

“Y/N!” He begs.

I turned my head back to him, the anger previously on his face melted away. I immediately release my hold on him, dropping my hand down swiftly. For a moment there it seemed fear had crossed his eyes, I took a step back lifting my hand to my forehead, a thin line of sweat wetting my face. My chest heaves, complete overwhelm filling my senses. I feel it in my bones this need to move, to get out. It had not taken anything out of me to hold him down, and that is what scared me the most.

Dean shuffles back into view, coming over and helping this brother up. When had he walked over here? I take another step back, their voices meshing together in a blob of incoherent sounds. A strong familiar hand grasps my upper arm, I look up at Dean, his eyes scrunched together in concern. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, but his voice seems so far away. I look over at Sam, a bruise already forming on his jaw a reminder of what I had done. I find no fear in his eyes any longer, not even as he rubs at the forming mark. I nod absent-mindedly at Dean's question, though it wasn’t true and he had known that too.

He gives my arm a firm squeeze before sliding it down slowly to my hand, intertwining our fingers together. I look up at him again, but his face is turned away already walking towards the duffel bag bringing me along with him. He doesn't say anything about holding my hand, not even as he leans down to the bag swinging it over the shoulder that is opposite to where I stand.

He leads the way out of the basement, Sam following behind us silently. I let him lead me, just staring down at our intertwined hands. His sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, ‘must have done that when he left us before. Holding hands wasn’t totally uncommon for us and we both happened to be touchy people, even so butterflies danced in my stomach.

When we finally reached the exit, the early morning sun had begun to shine through the clouds. Every one of our movements was done in silence, he let go of my hand only until we climbed back over the fence. The second both our feet had hit the ground he claimed it once more.

Just a short distance away Kat and Gavin lean against their car, my eyes scrunch in confusion. I thought they left. “What are you guys still doing here?” I call out from a few feet away. They analyze us, probably noticing the clear sign of a fight and who I’m holding hands with but I do not let go of his hand, and he makes no move to do so either. “We wanted to make sure you got out” Kat answers, crossing her arms across her chest, “And to say thank you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gavin adds in.

“No more haunted asylums, okay?” Dean replies. They nod and get in the car, this time starting it up.

“Hey, guys?” Sam says quietly as we begin to walk towards the Impala. He gets in front of us, walking backwards so we couldn’t ignore him, “I'm sorry. I said some awful things back there.”

I frown, not wanting to be reminded of something that happened only minutes ago. “You remember all that?” Dean scuffs.

“Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it.” He says making sure he directs it at both of us.

“You must believe it on some subconscious level…right?” I say. I do not mean to come off harsh or make him feel worse about himself, but he had to feel that way on some level. He doesn't say anything for a minute, and I suddenly feel bad for what I said, “No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?” He insists.

Reaching the Impala Dean unlocks the car, opening my door with his free hand but I make no moves of getting in just yet. He lets go of my hand, moving to the back of the car to throw in the duffel before rounding the rest of the car to the driver seat. Just before he gets in he answers his brother, venom clear on his tongue, “No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep.” He slams the car door behind him.

I look over at Sam, total defeat written all over his face. I move past the car door moving right in front of Sam, he looked down at me expectantly. I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him. We will go to a motel and sleep the night off, and I don’t want to go to bed upset. His initial surprise wears off and he hugs me back, I pull away slightly. “You said mean things and I know you're sorry, but they still hurt… I’m not mad at you for thinking like that, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt us.” I say softly, I don’t like being angry at someone or holding grudges.

His eyes are filled with desperate sorrow as he says, “I’m sorry.” He hugs me tightly adding a quiet, “thank you.” And I knew he had meant for just talking to him about it even if it was only a little and for not hating him. We pull away from each other, and he ruffles my hair like an annoying brother before getting in the Impala. I move past the open door again, this time getting in.

Even after a nice hot shower and being all cozied up in the motel bed, sleep still could not find me. I groan frustrated, switching positions for the upteenth time, glad that I had my own room so as to not wake anyone.

I shift again, moving onto my back, the memories of what happened earlier playing through my head on repeat. Whether Sam meant it or not he was right. They didn’t need me, they were more than capable by themselves. Maybe I should go back home.

I could call Adeline, ask her if she could pick me up from the airport and take me home. The plane ride wouldn’t be so bad, I just have to figure out how to get to the airport with no car of my own. But that thought upset me more. I’d go home and worry over the boys excessively, where they were, how they were doing, if they were safe or even alive, if they found their dad. Maybe I was a burden to them.

God. And what I did to Sam? To use my powers like that?! Though I guess before the whole fight the teleporting was quite impressive especially because I am not skilled in that.

I want to be the best, but I'm afraid of what that would mean. What I would become.

I shift again, my feet tangling under the heavy covers. I sit up letting the blankets fall to my waist, and without thinking I pick up my phone dialing in her number. I had no idea what time it was in New York City but I knew she didn’t care about that sort of thing, she would pick up regardless of time or what she was doing. The phone barely gets to ring for a third time when she answers, “Hey Addie…”