#but apparently it's a bunch of kids and prudes again

[ssson-of-sparda]

A Dozen Ice Cream Cones (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Patty wants to know what happened to the girl who offered Dante his very first strawberry sundae. But to know the rest of the story, she must erase the dozen ice cream cones from Dante's tab. (Part 2 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1)

Tags: Pre DMC3 Dante / Dante is Tony Redgrave / Flirting / Lost Friends to Lovers / Implied Sexual Content / Explicit Language

Author’s note: You wished for Part 2, there it is ;-) If you want to place this part of the story in the DMC timeline, I'd say that it is shortly before DMC3. Dante is roughly eighteen (and so is Reader) and still goes by the name Tony Redgrave. Again, the Dante who is talking to Patty is definitely post DMC Anime. I decided not to give many details about him so that he could be the one of your choice. Can definitely do a part 3 if you want.

MISSION 2

Dante was about to get fleeced. He could feel it in his guts, which had somehow developed this strange ability to knot tightly in his stomach each time he was about to lose. Probably the result of so many years of bad luck in gambling. And yet, Patty’s eyebrows were weirdly furrowed as she was quietly eyeing all of the cards in her hands. She had to have a straight flush. Dante had no doubt about that. So why wasn’t she playing? “You know, Dante. I was thinking …”       “Not again.” The man grumbled, wondering why she was taking her time. But Patty had learned to ignore Dante’s sudden irritations long ago, knowing they were always brief and harmless.       “You didn’t stay friends, right?” Dante arched an eyebrow and stared at the girl in front of him as she was sitting still, big blue eyes fixed upon his face, patiently waiting for the answer to her unexpected question.   “What are you talking about?” A sigh escaped his mouth. He knew what she was talking about. He just wanted to elude the answer. But the little blonde was not one to easily give up. “With the little girl. The one who made you first strawberry sundae. You didn’t stay friends. Why?”                   “What makes you think that?” Using a question to avoid an answer. Yes, could work.             “Well, if you had a friend making you strawberry sundaes for free, then you would not spend an unreasonable amount of money on them. So, I’m guessing she must not be around anymore.” Patty was perceptive. Dante could give her that quality, for sure. Though right now it was more a bother than anything else. “What happened?”       “She moved on with her life.” was the only thing that he felt like answering as he quietly stood up to take a beer in his fridge, certain that this was just the beginning of another long questioning.               “So you never saw her again after that night in the diner?” Patty asked as she watched Dante slouch back in the couch, taking his cards back in his hand to cover whatever expression Patty was trying to spot on his face.       “Yes, I did saw her again.” He finally confessed, eyes on the dog-eared Queen of Hearts he was grazing with his thumbnail.             “Then tell me!” The girl begged, unable to resist the excitement growing in her body any longer. “ Why would I? Don’t you have any stupid soap opera to watch?”       “ The TV’s broken… AGAIN.” She complained but he couldn’t care less. He had no money to afford buying a new one or fixing this one. Plus, there was nothing worth watching on TV so …“Come on. I’ll erase the dozen ice creams cones from your tab if you do.” Dante looked away from his cards with a sudden tiny smirk as he noticed Patty on the edge of her chair, impatiently waiting for the new part of his story to begin. “Now you speak my language, Patty.”         “ You never do something for free! It’s annoying!”       “Are you kidding me? I do a lot of things for free. That’s why I’m so broke and live in this hellhole.” He waved at the place with open arms before taking a gulp of his beer with a grimace. Yuck, it’s hot! And of course it was. He hadn’t paid the bills yet again.           “So we have a deal, then. Now tell me.”

A DOZEN ICE CREAM CONES

                 It was the nineties – perhaps the most awful period for anyone who had even just a small sense for fashion or music - and as the city of Red Grave was still lovingly dancing on ridiculous love ballads on Friday nights, wearing tight crop tops, colourful scrunchies and platform sneakers, Dante – now named Tony Redgrave - was trying to make his place as a young mercenary in the rough areas of the city, hanging in bars serving some drinks stronger than strawberry sundaes (though he would always order one at some point) and in clubs where women would gladly take their clothes off if asked too, mind a few bucks of course (except for Venus. Venus would always flash her breasts for free for her sweet Tony).

“Not sure I want to know that.” “ Oh yes. Forgot the story must be PG-13, sorry. Anyway …”

He was looking for jobs, something that would help him pay for a proper roof over his head and the fancy long red leather coat he had just bought (five hundred bucks but worth every single dime) and luckily for him he knew the perfect man to find him that.

His name was Enzo Ferino. A short and chubby Italian-American broker, probably the best informant in the neighbourhood, one who could smell high-paying jobs for miles around especially those Dante loved to refuse.

“Where was Morrison?” “Can I tell my story please?”

“Come on Tony! You can’t refuse that job. Not another one. Not again.” He almost threw a fist on the counter before he remembered the last time he did so. Two bullets had whizzed the top of his black curly head and he had had thanked his mama for making him so short. “Haven’t you heard the reward? Don’t you see all the zeros on that check, my friend?” Yes, there were four and enough to pay the bail and few rents of the place he wished to rent to create his own agency. But Dante didn’t want that check nor did he want that job.             “If he wants to recover a stupid necklace, he can call the cops for that … or a bailiff. I don’t go after silly poker players. I have better things to do.” He took a sip of his whiskey, the third of the night, not even looking at the two men sitting next to him and begging him to take that damn job with pleading eyes.               “You have nothing better to do!” Enzo shouted, throwing his hands in the hair like a living Italian cliché. “Please Sir. It’s my girlfriend’s necklace. One she offered me on our anniversary. It’s very precious to her.” The man who wished to hire him declared as he started rummaging in the pocket of his designer coat.               “And you bet on it?” Dante scoffed. “Damn. What a perfect boyfriend you are. But that’s still a no.”

The man pressed a piece of paper next to Dante’s drink. A photo, a polaroid, judging by the quality of the paper, carefully placed face down like a poker card, showing that that man was most probably a pro-gambler or at least was used to card games. Another reason not to help. He would probably lose the damn necklace right after recovering it.         And yet, Dante took the picture in his hand. Though he didn’t really know why he did. Certainly the curiosity to know what kind of chick that prick could have in his life or maybe the will to use the picture to taunt him about his taste in women. He imagined a prude church girl, some daddy’s girl probably as rich as him, not very pretty but fancy, wearing pearl earrings and silk headscarves matching her shiny shoes. The type of girl that swaggers in the street and roll her disdainful eyes when they see men like Dante (though they might secretly wished he would rumple their sheets).  

Patty cleared her throat. “What? Every girl loves some good bad boy once in a while... And how do you even know what that means?”

He couldn’t be more wrong. And he couldn’t be more surprised. He would recognize those big (colour) eyes and that sweet smile among thousands, despite the time apart, despite the years that had turned a fearful little boy into a daredevil mercenary and an adorable little girl into a magnificent young girl. He would recognize them always because they were the first that had made in smile when he thought he would never smile again.                 “Her name is Y/N. She’s the sweetest girl in the world. Innocent. Pure.” Dante cringed at the man’s words, finding them rather repulsive and somewhat perverted. Something in the way they were rolling off his tongue.       “Come on, Tony. You can’t say no to a sweet girl.” Enzo’s sentence was met with a glare that made him shiver but when he saw his partner stand up and empty his glass of whiskey, he somewhat relaxed. “You’re pieces of shit. Both of you.”         “Does that mean you take the job?” Dante didn’t bother answer.

                 But he took the job. Not for Enzo. Especially not for his shitty client. And even less for the cash. For her. Just for her. To finally return the favour after so many years. Because he owed her one. Because she was possibly one of the few humans he’s always respected in his ten years wandering the nighty street of Red Grave. And because she didn’t deserve an asshole like the one she dated to lose something apparently so precious to her in a silly game of cards. An easy job for someone like him but one he despised nevertheless. He hated to deal with humans. They were sometimes worse than demons and you can’t fix problems with them by using a sword.

“Don’t tell me you won the necklace back?” “ I did. Fair and square. Well … almost. I ended up using my sword. Turned out the Mafiosi who had Y/N’s necklace were a bunch of demons who had made a few bars in downtown Red Grave their lairs.”

But once Dante had Y/N’s necklace in the palm of his hand he did something only Dante could do. He refused the reward, refused all the zeros on the check and the chance to finally buy that agency he wanted so badly. “The things you do for beautiful women.” Gunsmith Nell Goldstein had said when she had given him back his guns, all polished and fixed, after he had wrecked them on the job again. “They’re your weakness, Tony. Always leading you around by the nose … or something else.” Perhaps, but he never minded.        

And as he watched Y/N approaching the door to her home out of the corner of his eye, a bunch of books under her arms, looking for her keys in her bag, Dante knew he would not regret his weakness for women or his decision to refuse the money.      

She looked as sweet as he remembered, as delicate as in the picture if not more. And just as her shitty boyfriend had said, she indeed seemed rather innocent and pure. Almost fragile. Nothing like the girls he had met before, especially those he had seen undressed at Love Planet or in one of the magazines he kept in his drawers.       “Goodness grac…” She almost dropped her books as she jumped, surprised and somewhat scared, and put her hand over her heart that had certainly missed quite a beat when she noticed this insanely tall stranger on her doorstep.   But her sudden fear disappeared immediately when she recognized the silvery white hair covering the icy blue eyes of the man before her. “Tony?” She arched an eyebrow and he smiled with the same childish joy she had witnessed on his face years ago. And just like that, she was certain it was him.       “Hello, Y/N” He offered his hand and she briefly stared at it, remembering for a small instant the time she held out her tiny hand to him the same way, the night they met. And so she grabbed it, genuinely happy to see him again and yet curious to know how he had found her and why he was back after so many years.       But when she fell something cold and metallic in his hand she got her answer. “My necklace. How?” “Won it back for you.” He simply answered but that was enough for her to understand what happened. “[Boyfriend] lost it on a poker game, didn’t he?” And even though that didn’t really surprised her as she knew how much he loved gambling despite her telling him not to, it disappointed her anyway. “You shouldn’t date boys who have a streak of bad luck in gambling… Except those like me.” She looked up at Dante’s piercing blue eyes, unsettled by his flirtatious humour, thinking he accidentally let that slip but he definitely did not. Those last words, impulsive and yet somewhat well thought out, had rolled off his tongue with a scandalous smoothness and a self-confidence that had rooted her to the spot, speechless, but in a weirdly pleasant way that made her want to slap herself. “Or especially me. Depends if you like trouble.”     With a smug smirk, he stared at her, deep in her eyes, almost … hungrily? She didn’t really know. All that she knew was that never a man had looked at her that way. Certainly not her boyfriend. And who knew such icy eyes could set fire to her cheeks like that? “But, judging by that place and your guy, you seem to enjoy some well-ordered life.”

Not really. Not at all. Her life was boring, plain and dull. Nothing like in the books she read. Nothing like what she had dreamed of. But exactly what her mother had wished for her.         She was an adorable daughter, a top student finishing up high school, ready to leave Red Grave with her well brought up boyfriend to start a life many would envy but that she cared little about.     She wanted adventure. She wanted excitement. Passion. Frivolity. Freedom. And maybe even some danger. She wanted all that and more.           And as she looked at the self-assured man in front of her, she couldn’t help but believe that he had somehow managed to obtain all that. And she wanted to know how. How did that life feel? How could he live such a life? How could she have the same?         And Dante noticed that small fire, that tamed lonely flame burning deep in her eyes that needed just a drop or two of gasoline to rage and shine brightly. Something he could easily provide if she let him, if that’s what she wanted.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N” He nodded her goodbye and as he shifted to walk away, she opened her lips to say. “Would you like a strawberry sundae?” And she cursed herself for this, so damn loud in her head. You have a boyfriend! A voice repeated on and on, feeling the temptation in her heart and the ideas of what some people would call unfaithfulness seeping in her brain. But as she opened the door to her apartment, ready to finally kick the boredom out of her life for something else, for something more, the voice seemed to fade.           Guess the Devil truly finds work for idle hands to do.

[yodawgiherd]

Too Close For Comfort pt.2

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Second part of the "annoying couple" AU hope that you'll enjoy it :)

Armin liked Eren. Armin liked Mikasa. Armin hated them together.

Was he overreacting? Hell no. Don’t believe him? Fine.

Let’s play a little scene then.

A movie was coming out, but not just any movie. It’s a movie from a series that both Eren and Armin used to watch religiously, a continuation of a long saga that had them on the edge of their seats. Armin was counting days until it comes out, and the second it hit the streaming platforms his heart doubled its beat rate. Then again, an event like this shouldn’t be experienced alone. He and Eren had watched every part of the saga up until now, and it would be rude not to make a little watch-together. So, Armin picked up a phone.

Eren was ecstatic same as Armin, immediately agreeing that he will come over in the evening. Sadly, he can’t go right now, because he is with Mikasa in the gym, and:

“You know that I can’t cut our training Ar, we need it for the fights.”

There it is again. Our training. We need it. It’s only Mikasa who does martial arts, not Eren, but apparently, they are no longer separate individuals. But fine, Armin was hyped for the movie and willing to wait a few hours.

Before you ask, no – it was not rude not to invite her too. Mikasa watched one of the movies with them, and her comment of: “Man, this is kinda dumb.”, almost made Armin explode. She, who still rewatches the Twilight saga from time to time, had the gall to call another movie stupid. Armin seethed, and it didn’t get better because the ultimate simp that Eren is, he only nodded and said: “Ye, it doesn’t make sense sometimes.”

Heresy.

Ok, all right, hopefully Mikasa will be exhausted from the gym and she will want to relax on her own, maybe go for a swim in the pool at Eren’s house. She loved that pool but Armin had his issues with it, ever since he caught the two of them having sex in it once. Call him a prude, but Armin had no intention of swimming in water tainted by little Erens, if you catch his drift. And sure, the pool had filtration and whatnot, but still…

Chasing that horrible memory out of his mind, Armin made the preparation. Popcorn, drinks, snacks, the couch in just the perfect distance from the TV. Everything must be the best because this movie will be the best.

Ah, there’s the door.

Yet when Armin opened, his heart fell to his stomach and the smile was hard to keep. Eren was there, looking excited as ever, but the goth visage next to him was also present.

“Sorry that it took us so long,”, Eren hugged him, “Miki was doing her make-up.”

She giggled and poked him in the ribs, he caught her hand to press a kiss to the knuckles, and Armin was once again feeling like a third wheel on a date. Despite all this, the blond was a little bit hopeful. Maybe Mikasa will keep silent for once and lets him borrow Eren for a few hours. Maybe everything can work out.

So, Armin smiled and nodded and ushered his welcome guest ( and his plus one) into the living room. They fell together on the couch in the most customary positions – Armin in one corner, Eren in the middle, and Mikasa in the other, her legs picked up and resting in her boyfriend’s lap. With a click, the movie began.

It was fine at the start. Mikasa cared not for the movie, but she was on her phone, probably browsing Twitter or Pinterest or something, looking for new outfit ideas. The movie was amazing too, and Eren’s eyes were glued to the screen, his gasps in sync with Armin’s. That bliss lasted for about an hour and a half, and Armin couldn’t be happier. But then….

With a sigh, Mikasa pocketed her phone, her eyes sliding towards the TV. Just like that, the alarms went off in Armin’s head, because Mikasa was bored and that is bad, bad news. In a faint attempt to prolong his happy time, he asked her if she could go and grab a few more drinks from the fridge, knowing that there are none. She smiled and agreed, coming back to announce what Armin already knew.

“You’re out, there are no more.”

“Oh but that’s a shame.”, Armin lied through his teeth, “Would you be so nice to go buy some?”

She smiled and said sure, only pausing to press a quick kiss to Eren’s cheek. He mumbled something like “I love you babe” and then she was gone, letting Armin blow out the breath he was holding.

In this story, Mikasa was portrayed as the villain, but that’s NOT how Armin felt about her. She was a great girl, an amazing friend, and overall one of the best people that he knew. It’s that her inseparableness from Eren was driving Armin up the wall. Successfully pulling them apart with his innocent request, the blond settled into the couch, intent on enjoying the rest of the movie with Eren.

Curse Mikasa and her perfect physique.

She was back in fifteen minutes, not the hour that Armin expected, apparently jogging the entire way there and back. With a thin sheet of sweat to prove it, that she ran with several kilograms in her backpack, Mikasa quickly washed her face and was seated on the couch again, not even pulling her phone out this time. And like that, Armin’s movie party began to crumble.

It started with light touches on Eren’s nape, her black nails gently scratching the sensitive skin there. He leaned into the touch, a stupid smile spread across his face, and Armin wanted to punch him for that. They exchanged a few whispers, a few giggles, and then she was climbing into Eren’s lap as it was her rightful place. Five minutes later, Eren couldn’t care less about the movie.

The sounds of their aggressive make-out session were invading Armin’s ears, no matter how hard he tried to block it out. The strange sucking sound, the way Mikasa craned her head back and giggled when Eren planted kisses on her pale neck, her long hair creating a midnight curtain behind her. Because they were seventeen and a pair of horny teenagers, it did not end there. Risking a quick peek to the right, Armin saw that one of Eren’s hands was on Mikasa’s ass, bunching her short skirt between his fingers. It rode up, revealing the naked skin covered by black panties and fishnets, and Armin was feeling sick.

Objectively speaking, it was a very aesthetically pleasing ass. Mikasa went hard on her leg days, and it showed, but it didn’t feel right to the blond. She was practically his sister, and he had no intention of ogling his sister’s ass, no matter how perfect it was. With Eren being his brother, more or less, it was like having his sister being groped by his brother while their tongues are cramming into each other’s throats and…

Wait no, that came out wrong. They were very far from Alabama.

Differently then – it was his best friend kissing his other best friend (female), being loud and obnoxious about it, and all Armin wanted was to watch the movie. In his corner, he prayed that this is it, that they won’t nudge the clothing aside and go at it right here because the way Mikasa’s hips ground into Eren’s suggested that it wasn’t that far off. Please no. God, please no.

They didn’t.

Another hour of suffering later, the movie was done. Eren left with a stupid smile, holding Mikasa’s hand and looking like he just received a beating. All the black smudges on his face could easily be mistaken for bruises. Armin, who had a faint feeling that his movie night was nothing but foreplay to them, put the movie to play again, intent on enjoying the second half without the embarrassing sounds coming from his couch.

There. Convinced? No? Okay then…

What pissed him off next was the evolution of Eren into the ultimate simp for Mikasa. At first, it was a joke only, something Jean would say to piss him off, but as years progressed the joke was slowly but surely easing into reality. Mikasa wasn’t any better, Annie claimed when they were complaining to each other over the phone, and Armin wondered if a woman could be called a simp too.

A few proofs, if you will:

Proof 1: Eren and Jean were playing videogames at his house. Jean was losing for once, so Eren kept teasing him, but its all in good spirit and the games were getting more and more competitive. But then, a phone rang.

“Hi, Mimi, what’s up?”

If there was a word Jean would like to erase from a dictionary, it would be Mimi.

The rest of the conversation was quick, and Eren hung up with a stupid smile on his face. That expression was known to all his friends because he wore it anytime when being around Mikasa.

“I have to go.”

The controller cluttered on the table, the door closed, and he was gone.

Proof 2: Mikasa never skipped her training, and Annie liked that about her. Yet today would end such tradition because in the middle of their sparring Eren walked into the gym. Mikasa’s concentration took a nosedive out of the window, Annie got pissed, and Eren offered that he will take his girlfriend out for ice cream. She changed in about a minute and was gone, forcing Annie to take her frustration out on the punching bag.

It didn’t survive her wrath.

Proof 3: This was supposed to be a scouting mission, Sasha and Connie took the two dorks to see how Niccolo, Sasha’s new favorite cook, was doing in the restaurant he worked in. The test was about food but it got ruined as soon as the appetizers came in. Because instead of eating and rating it, like normal humans, Mikasa and Eren began feeding each other tiny bites, interlacing the food with kisses, and overall just being the cringiest and most annoying couple that there is. Connie excused himself, saying that he needs to throw up, and Sasha followed, knowing that the lunch was ruined.

They grabbed a disappointing burger together, both agreeing that taking Eren and Mikasa to any social occasion is a waste of time.

Proof 4: This was a study session, a thing that they were doing together for a long, long time. Armin was smart, Mikasa was bright, and Eren was determined to catch up. Usually. Now, everything was different. Ever since they changed from kids to teenagers and eased into intimacy, they were insufferable. Even studying was impossible because while Mikasa was eyeing the textbook, at least in the start, Eren very successfully distracted her by putting his head on her shoulder and kissing her neck. Soon the book was forgotten, clattering on the ground, while they tumbled together on the bed, lost in each other. Recognizing the situation, Armin made a swift exit, closing the door just in time because a second later Mikasa’s black bra thumped into the wood.

Proof 5: Now they were all together, doing one of the things that Mikasa enjoyed. A dark magic séance, with an Ouija board between them, the goth taking the lead since she is the only one who knows anything about this stuff. Armin was bored because he is a man of science and not ghosts. Sasha was eating chips from under the table and Connie was doing his best to steal them unnoticed. Jean looked surprised that he’s even here, unsure what came over him to agree when Mikasa asked him to attend. And Eren? Eren was staring at her like she’s made of gold, hanging on every word she says.

Following her instructions, they put their hands on the triangle, waiting for the séance mistress to call out to the ghosts. She did so, muttering some spells under her breath too, and then it was the time to ask a question. Was it something funny? Was it something genuinely interesting?

Nope.

“Who does Eren like the most?”, was her query, and Armin could hear the collective groan that ran around the table.

Surprising exactly no one, the triangle starts moving, spelling out Mikasa’s name. Now if he’s being honest, Armin couldn’t see anyone actively doing it, but it must be her – she has enough strength in her fingertips to drag them all. A few more tugs later, her name was complete, and a huge grin spread on the goth’s black lips.

“I knew it!”, she giggled all excited over nothing, leaning over to kiss her boyfriend, who abandoned the board in favor of holding her against him.

It’s way too long to be a thank-you kiss, way too loud, and Jean couldn’t take it anymore. He was gone as the first person, but before Sasha could discreetly follow Mikasa broke away from Eren, eyeing everyone.

“So, what do we ask next?”

Enough? Enough.

Or no, there was one more thing that Armin despised. It’s Eren talking about his intimate life.

Growing up together, any sort of decency sense disappeared, and it certainly didn’t help that Eren wanted to boast, since he was boning the hottest girl in the whole town.

Armin heard it all. He heard about their first time, he heard about the first time Mikasa was on top. He heard about the different positions they tried. One day, he was dumb enough to ask why does Eren have bruises on his neck. What he got was a fifteen-minute presentation when Eren described just how tight Mikasa can squeeze with her thighs when he makes her come on his face.

Armin wanted to die every minute of that speech.

Look, he was happy for them, but he didn’t need to hear it. He didn’t need to know that Mikasa bought handcuffs and they are using them in the bedroom. He didn’t need to hear that Eren is planning to gift her a riding crop for Valentine’s, because they both adored the spice.

No, just no.

All these events, all these humiliating experiences culminated into a desperate meeting of everyone save for those two, where they thought about what to do.

“We have to make an intervention.”, Jean said, holding his head in his hands, “This is not normal.”

“They are dating for like what, nine years now?”, Sasha counted, “It wasn’t that bad before, what happened?”

“The sex.”, Armin deadpanned, having his sources, “It’s the sex.”

The only thing that Eren could talk about lately.

“They are not even two people anymore.”, Connie thought out loud, “It’s like they merged into a single entity. Eren and Mikasa became…. Mikeren?”

“I’m all for the merge idea, but your name sucks.”, Jean laughed “I have a better one – Erekasa.”

A few more ideas flew here and there, each dumber than the other until Armin got one.

“Eremika?”

“Yea that’s good.”

“Not bad.”

“I can see that…”

“Okay!”, Armin proclaimed, “So let’s plan this Eremika intervention. It’s cool that have each other, but not everyone gets the love of their life when 9 years old.”

“Hear hear.”, Jean agreed.

They planned everything. Set up a date, gathered, and waited until the two came home, ready and willing to unload their years of frustration on them.

But… they didn’t show up.

Later, Armin would find out that they didn’t come because Eremika was having an ice-cream date. With no mental capacity to do this again, because a small part of him felt like an asshole for even trying to set it up, the intervention squad fell apart.

It did get better, with time and space, because Eren and Mikasa grew a little bit older and a little bit wiser. It did nothing to diminish the flames of their passion, but they were no longer so obnoxious about it. And looking at them now, Armin could only wish that he would someday find love so beautiful as theirs.

*raise a glass*

To Eren and Mikasa!

“All right, this should be good.”

Looking over the paper, Armin frowned.

“Maybe too long though, I should…”

Re-reading what he wrote, the blond erased a few parts, shortening the text. After all, the speech should not be that long, he was not here as a star of the show.

A knock on the door interrupted him, and then there was a familiar brown-haired head peeking in.

“Hey Ar, you ready?”

Pocketing the paper, he nodded at his friend.

“I hope that I won’t let you down with the speech.”

“Please…”, Eren’s grin was still the same, even after all these years, “There’s a reason why I chose you to be my best man, you never disappoint.”

Following the groom, Armin soon arrived back in the hall where the reception was taking place. Eren slid back into his seat, automatically reaching out to intertwine his fingers with his now-wife, wearing that same stupid smile he always had. Armin remained standing, clearing his throat, and feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Well, here goes nothing.

“I liked Eren. I liked Mikasa. I hated them together…..”

The plane gently hummed all around them, carrying the newlyweds towards the location of their honeymoon. A private island, owned by Krista’s too-rich father, one he so generously borrowed them. Ignoring the empty seats, Mikasa was curled in Eren’s lap, head tucked under his chin, and neither of the two couldn’t be happier. Still, a single tiny thing was worming around in Eren’s mind.

“Mrs. Yeager?”, he got Mikasa’s attention, making her smile go even wider.

She loved when Eren called her that, although their full legal name was Ackerman-Yeager now. Equality was always an important part of their relationship.

“Can you believe that they had an intervention for us?”, Eren continued, “Were we really that obnoxious when dating?”

Mikasa thought about it for a moment. Thought about all the friends she stood up, all the events she left to be with him, all the times Armin had to witness their kisses. Knowing the answer, she giggled as she lied out loud.

“Nah.”

[riotwritesthings]

Baby Crazy

WinterIron, 8k, E, crack | AO3

This is partially because of that video of Sebastian Stan being cute with a kid, and mostly because my friends are terrible influences. By which I mean they’re the best and I LOVE THEM. Here’s some crack. I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m really not. No shame 2020.

-

For some reason, the children of New York love Bucky Barnes. It’s heartwarming to witness, and it’s making it really hard for Tony to ignore his gigantic crush on the man.  Especially because Tony can’t stop suggesting they maybe have a baby together. The rest of the Avengers just want a vacation.

-

Despite popular belief, Tony does actually think before he speaks the majority of the time. Maybe that doesn’t include when he’s a little slap happy after a fight, but he feels like that should be forgivable. Especially when he’s watching Bucky oh so gently hand a sniffling toddler back to a sobbing mother, and Bucky has to extra gently loosen the kid’s tiny fingers from his tac-vest. There’s only so much Tony can be expected to stand before his brain just checks out.

Tony leans heavier against the concrete barricade in the middle of the street and, completely without thought, quietly sighs out “ugh, just put a baby in me already.” Apparently not quietly enough though, because Bucky’s head snaps up and around to look at him, eyes wide and, if Tony’s not mistaken, the faintest hint of a blush across his cheek bones. Tony, on the other hand, has a horrible feeling that his own face is bright red as he ducks down behind the barricade with a grumble of “stupid enhanced hearing.”

It would be so much less suspicious if Tony could just play it cool, wave and wink and play it off as a joke instead of some kind of weird gut reaction that he really has no idea where it came from. But no, Tony has a big stupid crush, even worse, he has actual adult feelings, and he has already proved himself incapable of ‘playing it cool’ around Bucky. Mostly at this point Tony is just aiming for ‘not a complete idiot.’

He has a terrible feeling he’s failing miserably, and not just because he’s currently crawling away along the ground behind the barricade. “Don’t judge me,” he says as he crawls past Natasha, because he really does not appreciate the scathing look on her face. Then she shakes her head sadly, which is somehow worse, and Tony pouts as he continues his totally manly and mature crawling flee.

He spends the rest of the day avoiding Bucky, telling himself it’s fine. It’s all fine. It’s just because his head got rattled around in that last fall, he’s not obsessed with the idea that Bucky would make a great dad, that Tony would really like to see that up close and personal. Nope, not even a little bit. This isn’t a problem.

-

And it wouldn’t be a problem, right, Tony says weird shit all the time, it should be swept away under a constant stream of other weird shit, except... Tony can’t seem to stop doing it.

No one is exactly sure when or why it happened, but somehow the Winter Soldier has become the favorite Avenger among the children of New York. Tony gets it, he really does, Bucky has the whole ‘strong silent’ thing going on most of the time, he’s cool and sweet and just the right amount of a smartass. (It’s possible Tony is projecting, just a little bit.) But then the problems began when the kids actually started to approach Bucky, because nothing could have prepared Tony for the sight of Bucky crouched down and patiently letting a bunch of kids poke and prod at his arm.

Tony was already compromised, how could he not be, watching as Bucky smiled gently at an adorable group of children, but then Bucky had looked up and met his eyes, looking confused and excited and terrified and a million other things all at once. A million things that Tony could read in an instant and he’d immediatly lost himself in about a thousand different day dreams of raising a family together, what the fuck.

It had really forced Tony to deal with the fact that his ‘stupid crush’ is more ‘actual adult feelings that will never go away and will probably eventually ruin his life’, because there’s nothing like watching the man he’s terrifyingly in love with interact with small children to finally and officially ruin his denial. Tony had spent two days locked in his lab stress-building after that little revelation, ignoring the fact that apparently he’d been spending so much time with Bucky lately that Tony was missing him after even a couple hours, and come out of the whole thing almost convinced that he would be able to handle this. He could act like everything is normal, like nothing had changed.

Tony had been very, very wrong. He cannot handle this, and he absolutely cannot act normal. How can he possibly act normal when the second they leave the tower to get some lunch Bucky is swarmed with excited children, and Tony gets to watch Bucky’s small grin bloom into something wide and warm and soft? Tony is only human, okay. One of the kids tugs at Bucky’s pant leg until he kneels down and lets the kid whisper something in his ear, and Tony whines under his breath as he clutches at his stomach.

“Bruce help,” he mutters, quietly enough that he almost definitely won’t be overheard this time, “I think my ovaries just exploded.”

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” Bruce responds absently, and then apparently actually registers the sentence because he looks up from the takeout menu he’s been pouring over to fix Tony with a flat look. “You need help,” he says seriously, “please just talk to the man like a reasonable person.”

“About putting his baby in me?” Tony asks hopefully, then pouts when Bruce just shakes his head and walks away.

“I’m going to get lunch, you can join me when Bucky’s done with his newest fans and you’re ready to act like a human,” Bruce calls over his shoulder, heartlessly.

Tony’s head whips back around at the sound of Bucky’s quiet, rumbling laugh just in time to see the kid’s face light up proudly, and Tony makes another strangled sound deep in his chest.

-

As a general rule, Tony does not enjoy PR stunts. He just might be able to excuse this one though, seeing as how it is in Central Park, and he gets to actually enjoy some sunlight rather than being shoved in another room full of socialites. And this one is for children, who Tony generally like way better than socialites or the press anyways.

It is both a gift and a curse, really, because now Tony is sitting at a picnic table watching a bunch of giggling kids braid flowers into Bucky’s hair under a tree about thirty feet away. Flowers. Into Bucky’s hair. Tony is charmed, and a little jealous, sure, because he wants to play with Bucky’s hair too damnit, but mostly Tony is just hopelessly charmed.

Tony groans pathetically for the third time in as many minutes and slumps down across the table, barely avoiding face planting into a half eaten cake that, ironically, has all their faces on it. "Real question,” Tony says out loud to no one, “do you think he'll have my babies?"

"I don't... think that's possible, Tony," Steve says slowly, and Tony jumps a little because he maybe forgot Steve was there. When he looks up Steve is making a weird scrunched face, like some kind of prude, as he says “what-"

"Then I'll have his babies, I don’t give a fuck," Tony huffs, dropping his chin to his crossed arms and fixing his eyes back on Bucky. Who is now letting a beaming little girl place a flower crown on his head and Tony doesn't even care that he’s probably going to have to pay for all those ripped up flower beds.

"I don't... think that would work either,” Steve says, breaking into Tony’s swooning again, “seriously, what-"

"But,” Tony interrupts, raising one finger as he turns back towards Steve, “what if he fucks me really, really hard?”

"I don't think you know where babies come from," Sam says and Tony jumps again, because when did Sam get here?

"You wont know if you don't try," Clint points out cheerfully, and when did that asshole get here?!

"Don't encourage him, I don't want to think about any of this," Steve says with a groan, pushing away his plate of food.

Tony finally sits up properly to look around the table in confusion as he asks "when did you assholes get here? Don’t you need to go charm parents or something? I already did my shift.”

"We've been here the whole time, man," Sam says and great, now they're all giving him weird looks, "you need to get it together, there are kids around."

"He needs a basic sex ed class," Clint says, and when Tony looks over Clint is rearranging the remainders of the cake to Frankenstein together what’s left of their faces. Tony doesn’t understand how he’s the weird one here.

Tony has a response to all of this negativity, it is a clever and scathing response and he forgets it instantly when Bucky turns towards the table, waving at them with the chubby little fist of the kid he’s now holding in his arms.

Tony slumps back down across the splintery wood with a garbled groaning sound that turns into a sigh of "fuck I want his babies inside me so goddam bad."

"Gross," Sam says while Steve makes exaggerated gagging noises and pushes his plate further away. “Man up,” Sam says cryptically, patting Tony on the shoulder and Tony groans again. At least it’s followed by the sounds of everyone getting up and finally leaving him alone to his misery / daydreams of how adorable babies made by Bucky would be.

At the sound of approaching footsteps Tony looks up again to ask if they’re sure he can’t have Bucky’s babies only to squeak instead because oh look, it’s Bucky. Still holding a child, both of them smiling hopefully at Tony and Tony’s heart lurches dangerously in his chest.

“Hunter here has something for you,” Bucky says, his voice soft in a way Tony has never heard before and the kid nods eagerly before wiggling around to dig his little hand into the giant pocket on his tiny little cargo pants. Bucky has to shift his grip constantly to keep the kid from tumbling out of his arms as Hunter pulls out a sheet of paper folded over itself multiple times and Tony’s not about to sob, he’s not. Everything is fine.

It’s a welcome distraction when the kid abruptly throws his weight forward, arms outstretched, and Tony has to reach out to grab him as Bucky makes panic face and just tries not to drop the over-excited kid.

“Woah, okay, what do you have for me?” Tony asks, twisting sideways on the awkward picnic table seat so he can settle the kid in his lap and then help to unfold the paper.

It turns out that what Hunter has is an impressively and hilariously accurate drawing of their fight with the giant frog last month, and Tony instantly loves it. He loves it more and more as the kid stutters through an explanation of every painstakingly included detail, like Thor covered in slime, and the exact moment Tony came bursting out of the frog’s chest in a spray of red crayon.

“Hunter, I can’t lie to you,” Tony says seriously once the kid has finished explaining that the Hulk is purple because his dog ate the green, “this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Amazing. Are you sure I can keep it? This should be in museums.”

Tony grins wide when Hunter bursts into delighted laughter, pushing the paper harder into Tony’s hands. When he looks up again Bucky is still standing there, smiling down at them all soft and warm, purple and yellow flower crown sitting a little lopsided on his head, and Tony’s heart lurches again.

-

"Are we ready to go?" Tony asks, looking around one last time even though FRIDAY has already confirmed they’ve successfully rounded up all the tiny, vicious alien mice.

"Almost, Bucky is taking pictures with a couple kids who snuck past the police barricades," Natasha says, looking entirely too proud of random thrill-seeking kids as she points somewhere behind Tony.

Tony does not turn to look, because that sounds dangerously adorable, and instead just tips his head back with a heavy sigh as he asks "but when is he going to give me a baby?"

"What was that?" comes a voice from behind him, and Tony spins on his heel so fast the armor gouges into the street a little to find that yep, Bucky is right there with an expression that Tony kind of wants to call bemused teasing. Or maybe just confused amusement.

Tony definitely can't run away this time, mostly because the stupid tiny alien mice got into his boots and chewed up the important wires. He’s also pretty sure he can hear Natasha snickering at him, so he figures hey, fuck it, might as well double down. “I said," Tony repeats with an over-exaggerated roll of his eyes, "when are you going to give me a baby?!”

He’s not sure how he actually expects Bucky to respond to that, because Tony has not thought this through at the fuck all, but he’s definitely not expecting Bucky to look surprised for a split second before giving Tony a smirk that is honestly filthy, how dare he make that face in broad daylight. “Maybe once things calm down at work,” Bucky says lightly, patting Tony on the shoulder as he walks past on the way to the transport vans.

“Some of us aren’t getting any younger here!” Tony calls after him, and it’s probably ridiculous to want to pout just because he couldn’t actually feel Bucky’s hand on his shoulder through the armor. He is anyways though, because frankly it’s way easier than dwelling on the fact that okay, apparently they joke about this now. That definitely won’t make Tony’s problems worse or anything, not a chance.

“Well you certainly look like ya are,” Bucky says, pausing to toss Tony a wink before clambering into the back of the van.

Tony is too busy stuttering and blushing to notice he’s moving, and then he’s walking straight into the side of the van with a tellingly loud clang of armor against metal. Natasha outright laughs at him, and Tony is pretty sure he can hear laughter from inside the van, too. Life is so unfair.

-

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Steve demands with slowly dawning horror.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bucky says flatly, but Steve is not an idiot, and he absolutely sees the way Bucky keeps glancing across the road as he hoists a laughing child up to sit on his shoulder. In fact, Bucky appears to be staring straight at Tony, who’s slumped back against his parked car with an expression that Steve wants to call half pain and half longing. And half stupid.

Steve has already had more than enough of this, thank you very much, but his attempt to storm off down the street is thwarted by Tony chasing him down, clutching at his arm, and frantically whispering “I want his baby.”

“It doesn’t work like that Tony,” Steve says miserably, trying and somehow failing to pry Tony’s grip loose, “that's my best friend, please stop saying these things to me.”

“Okay, but I want it,” Tony whispers back, clearly not listening at all and still staring at Bucky with wide eyes, “I want his baby inside me, and I want him to put it there. Vigorously.”

“Please go back to whining about how pretty his hair is, that was way better than this,” Steve begs, which are some words that he never thought he’d say and these pining morons might actually be the death of him. He never thought he’d miss the days when they just silently made heart eyes at each other from across a room.

As they both watch Bucky boosts another kid up onto his other shoulder while their equally excited dad snaps approximately a million photos on his phone, and Tony nearly sobs out “fuck me, I just love him so much.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a sigh, then snaps his head around to stare at Tony with one eyebrow raised. “Wait,” Steve says slowly, a smirk growing on his face because this is certainly a new development, “what was that last part?”

Tony blinks dumbly at him for a second, like he legitimately hasn’t been listening to himself when he speaks, and then his eyes go wide. “I said he’s hot and I want to have his babies!” Tony says, probably too loudly considering they’re still standing on the street and Steve has to resist the urge to laugh. “I didn’t say that I have feelings! There are zero feelings here, fuck you!” Tony continues, looking more and more panicked by the second and Steve almost feels bad for him. Except for the fact that he does not, not even a little bit.

”Very convincing,” Steve says, patting Tony on the back. Down the street Bucky carefully sets both kids back on their feet and waves goodbye, and Tony makes a strangled sound.

-

Sometimes, Tony thinks back fondly on when things in his life made a single bit of goddamn sense. Mostly though, he’s accepted this interesting new form of insanity.

Like when he walks into the kitchen to find Bucky and Peter sitting at the kitchen table, Peter giggling to himself as he sticks what appears to be Mario magnets all over Bucky’s left arm. Why wouldn’t this be happening?! Tony can’t help the short laugh that bursts out of him before he manages to smother it down, and Bucky turns to him with a baleful look.

“I’m not crazy about the kid from your first marriage,” Bucky says flatly, and Tony loses control of his laughter again as Peter makes a squawking sound caught somewhere between offended and confused.

“Well, he’s part of the deal,” Tony says with a shrug, and smiles brightly as Peter makes a couple more meaningless noises. He refills his coffee mug, then fixes Bucky with a serious look even as he starts backing out of the room and says “you want some better ones, we better get started on making them.”

“I’ll put it in m’ calendar,” Bucky says with a wink, and Tony pretends to swoon so that hopefully no one will notice that he’s actually swooning a little bit, cheeks warm and everything.

“I am scared and confused,” Peter volunteers, green shell magnet still clutched between his fingers, and Tony laughs his way out of the room as Peter squeaks “am I being adopted?!”

-

Steve walks into the living room to find Bucky sitting on the couch in the near-dark, face buried in his palms, and is instantly on high alert. “Bucky?” Steve asks, looking around the room, but the TV is currently showing a geico commercial and somehow Steve doesn’t think that’s the problem. “What’s going on- what’s wrong?”

When Bucky lifts his head and looks up at Steve his eyes are wet, and Steve is about to panic right up until Bucky opens his mouth and says “Steve. He’s so fucking precious, Steve. What the fuck.”

“What,” Steve says flatly, because what the fuck is Bucky talking about. He looks around the room again, hoping this time he’ll find some kind of answer, and oh look at that, the commercials have ended and apparently Bucky has been sitting here watching the highlights of last night’s press event. More specifically, the interview Tony had done with a tiny well-dressed child outside the actual event. Because of course that’s what Bucky is nearly crying over. “I hate you both,” Steve says with a sigh that feels like it comes from the very depths of his soul.

“Steve,” Bucky says again, eyes back on the TV, “Steve, do you think Tony’s kids would be as pretty as him?”

“I want to disown both of you,” Steve says, and then huffs in annoyance because Bucky is clearly not listening.

“He has an entire wall of art and letters from kids in his workshop,” Bucky continues on, completely unphased by Steve’s hate, “he can still tell the story behind each and every one of them. Bet he’d make the prettiest fuckin’ babies.”

“I’m leaving,” Steve says, but before he can actually move Bucky is whipping his head back around with a distressingly hopeful look on his face. “No-“ Steve tries to say, because he has a terrible feeling he knows exactly where this is going, but Bucky talks right over him.

“Steve,” Bucky says and completely ignores Steve’s desperate head shaking as he asks “do you think Tony would have my babies? We would make the cutest little babies on the entire fuckin’ planet, I just know it.”

“Nope,” Steve says loudly, finally spinning on his heel and stomping out of the room, “nope nope nope, I don’t want to be a part of this. I’m taking the quinjet, if anyone needs me, don’t, because I will be back in the damn ice.”

“Steve!” Bucky shouts after his retreating back, “don’t you think our babies would be cute, Steve?!”

-

Tony isn’t sure why people seem so determined to hand Bucky their babies lately, but he’s certainly not complaining. By which Tony means that he is absolutely complaining, because just once he would like to go out for dinner with his teammates without his heart exploding over the sight of Bucky cuddling a chunky little infant close to his chest.

“I want to have his babies,” Tony sighs, hands clutched to his chest, and it really should be more concerning that he’s barely even aware he’s doing it anymore, doesn’t realize the words are out until Steve sighs heavily beside him.

“Tony please, stop,” Steve says, eyes closed and expression pinched like he’s getting a headache, “why can’t you just talk to each other like normal people.”

“I talk to Bucky all the time,” Tony objects, because he really does, he spends more time with Bucky than just about anyone these days. He just doesn’t talk about pointless, useless things, like his feelings, or the fact that his biological cock is apparently chiming like Big Fucking Ben.

Steve just sighs again, looking around like he’s trying to find help but Rhodey and Sam had left them behind almost as soon as they had stopped, the bastards. Tony is helpless to look away as the baby raises one tiny hand to pat at Bucky’s cheek, and when Bucky turns his head, meeting Tony’s eyes as he pretends to bite and then gently kisses that chubby little baby fist Tony makes a squealing sound deep in his chest that finally has Steve walking away too.

Tony goes home at the end of the night and sobs into his pillow. More or less. He collapses across the couch in his suite and presses his face into the armrest as he whines “it’s like he doesn’t even care that I have a heart condition! How am I supposed to live like this?!”

“Then fuck him or die already,” Rhodey says heartlessly, sprawled across the armchair and flipping obnoxiously through a magazine. Tony doesn’t even know where he got a magazine, because it’s certainly not Tony’s.

“It’s like you have no sympathy for my pain,” Tony says, finally pulling his face away from the arm rest to glare at his so-called best friend.

“Ran out of it months ago,” Rhodey agrees, loudly turning another page and Tony is pretty sure he brought that magazine himself, just so he could do this. Tony has to admire that level of dedication.

-

Tony blasts one of the flying monkeys, actually, real flying monkeys, out of the air as it tries to swoop down at Bucky, and this is one of the times that the insanity level of their lives is a little too high for even Tony’s standards. It’s almost worth it though, because Bucky looks up at him with a quick flash of a grin and his voice is warm through the comms as he says “thanks sugar.”

“You know how you can make it up to me?” Tony asks, ignoring the flush working its way across his face in favor of smirking widely because he can already hear the rest of the team groaning in protest. And hey, great thing about a metal suit, no one can see you blush.

“How’s that, sweet thing?” Bucky asks, also ignoring the rest of their team and Tony can hear the grin in his voice even as Bucky leaps over to the next rooftop and takes aim at another swarm of flying monkeys. Flying. Monkeys.

“Don’t,“ Sam says, and there’s a grunt as he kicks one of the pests out of the air, “this stopped being funny so long ago.”

“You could put a-“ Tony starts, only to be cut off by a combination of his own laughter, Sam’s protesting sounds, and one of the monkeys crashing into him and trying to pry his helmet off.

“Tony please I am begging you-“ Steve tries, and Tony would swear he can actually hear Steve’s soul leaving his body.

“Put a goddamn baby in me!” Tony finishes with maybe a little too much emotion, knocking the monkey and away and blasting it with great prejudice.

“Alright it’s funny again,” Clint says around a burst of giggles, but Tony is much more interested in Bucky’s quiet laugh. It has him smiling all through the rest of the fight, even if it is with goddamn flying monkeys.

-

“Bruce, I need to ask you something,” Steve says, bursting into the library and he feels bad when Bruce startles hard. Bruce nods though, still looking a little rattled, so Steve decides to launch right into it. “So you know how Tony and Bucky are being extra obnoxious with their super obvious pining lately?”

“Unfortunately,” Bruce says with a pinched expression that Steve knows all too well. He’s pretty sure that’s what his own face looks like all the time lately.

“So I realized, there’s still a lot I don’t know about the world these days, I am constantly learning new things, and it occurred to me-“ Steve pauses, chewing on his lip for a second before he decides to just blurt it out. “They can’t actually make a baby, right?! Because I’m pretty sure they’re just being dumb but I also don’t want to be wrong, and- Bruce, am I going to be an uncle?!”

Bruce just blinks at him for several long, silent seconds. Then he shuts his book with a decisive thunk, pushes himself to his feet, and firmly says “I need a vacation.”

“That’s not an answer to my question!” Steve protests, because at this point Bruce is basically the only person Steve can trust to not fuck with him about this. And Steve has learned his lesson about diving too deep into google looking for answers. That way lies madness.

“Vacation,” Bruce says again, then politely but firmly elbows his way past Steve and out the door.

“I’m not ready to be an uncle!” Steve calls after him, and pouts when Bruce refuses to come back and answer his questions.

-

Tony did not start the day thinking he’d end it getting crushed by an air-born taxi during what should have been a routine fight, but it looks like that’s what’s going to happen. Because of course the latest bad guy just has to go down in a blaze of exploding glory that knocks Tony to the ground, disables his suit, and flings every vehicle parked along the block flying.

The taxi is just a blur of yellow as it approaches, and Tony squeezes his eyes shut. He peeks one open hesitantly when several seconds go by and he still hasn’t been crushed, and then chokes on his breath at the sight of Bucky standing above him, holding the majority of the car off the ground with no apparent effort.

“Please put a baby in me,” Tony blurts, entire body flushing hot and he’s so far past caring if that’s somehow become his gut reaction to just about everything Bucky does, he’s never meant anything so much in his life.

Bucky smirks slow and filthy, which is unfair to begin with, and then holy mother of god switches to holding the taxi with one hand so he can pretend to tug at his belt with the other as he asks “right now?”

“No!” Comes several shouting voices through the comms, and Tony laughs weakly. It’s probably a good thing the fight is over, because he doesn’t think he has the brainpower to even stand right now and wow, this armor is not erection friendly.

When Tony looks around it’s to see Steve sitting on the curb with his face in his hands, and if he listens closely he can just barely hear Steve muttering something under his breath that sounds like the word ‘stupid’ over and over again. Clint is standing nearby with what appears to be his phone held out, like he’s recording Tony’s mini-crisis here, and Tony would be upset if it didn’t mean there might be actual footage of Bucky catching the car. Which Tony would really like to see. For reasons. Natasha is just shaking her head like she’s ashamed of all of them, and from the looks of it Sam has already flown away.

“Maybe later,” Tony says regretfully, and tries not to moan out loud when Bucky easily shoves the car away.

Bucky offers him a hand and Tony to his feet, steadying him when Tony’s legs threaten to give out and Tony really hopes he can blame that on the unpowered suit.

-

“This is why I can’t have anything nice,” Tony says with a heavy sigh as Clint tackles Sam off the couch, one of their controllers flying across the room in the process to clatter loudly into the wall.

He turns at the sound of quiet laughter from behind him, because Tony would know that laugh anywhere, and sure enough he looks up just in time to watch as Bucky launches himself over the back of the couch and lands right beside him, arm still stretched out along the back and so close to being wrapped around Tony’s shoulders.

“I don’t know why you want more kids,” Bucky says, grinning over at him before shooting a pointed look at the oversized children still wrestling on the floor. “The ones we already have are terrible.”

“I resent that,” Natasha says from the safety of the armchair, easily winning now that all her competition is thoroughly distracted, “some of us are perfectly pleasant.”

“You’re on thin ice,” Tony tells her, punching absently at the buttons of his own controller because he can’t look away from Bucky’s stupid beautiful face, and his stupid gorgeous smile. Finally he gets it together enough to tell Bucky “that’s why we need more, these are the worst children. We need to replace all of them. If at first you don’t succeed try, try again, and all that.”

Bucky turns back to him with a toothy grin that has Tony flushing hot all over and says “wanna replace all of ‘em, huh? Sounds like a whole lot of tryin’.”

“Get a room,” Clint says, voice muffled because his face is currently stuffed into Sam’s armpit, his own finger shoved into Sam’s ear for some reason.

“That’s what we’re trying to plan here,” Tony says, but it gets drowned out by Natasha’s cheer of victory and the ensuing fight as Clint tries to tackle her out of her chair too.

-

“Bucky,” Steve says, as reasonably as he possibly can, “you gotta put the baby down.”

“No. Why?” Bucky demands petulantly, clutching the baby closer while it giggles and coos.

“Because Tony is in the corner literally sobbing and looking at cribs online and this is getting out of hand,” Steve says, and when he looks over at where he’d left Tony all he sees is the top of the man’s hair where it’s peaking up above one of the tables lining the edges of the room, and apparently Tony is now hiding behind furniture. That might actually be better, somehow. At least he’s not wandering around asking people for input on baby clothes anymore. “Please put the baby down and just go ask him out like a normal person,” Steve begs.

“I’m not putting the baby down,” Bucky says stubbornly, even as his attention is now firmly fixed on the top of Tony’s head, “did you even see his tiny little bowtie?”

“I did see his little bowtie,” Steve says, taking a deep breath and trying to summon all of his patience. He can’t start yelling in front of a baby, in the middle of a black tie charity gala, no matter how much he wants to. “I also saw Tony basically burst into tears the second you picked up the baby, and if the two of you don’t get it together soon you’re going to drive us all insane. Please just ask him out.”

Bucky looks down at the baby again, bouncing it a little in his arms and Steve kind of hates that Bucky still manages to find a way to look unsure about this. “What if he says no?” Bucky asks, barely loud enough for Steve to hear him.

“Are you fu- are you fooling with me right now?” Steve demands and there he goes, he’s about to completely lose it in front of all these nice because because his best friends are just so stupid.

“Don’t swear in front of th’ baby,” Bucky chides him.

“I’m not swearing in front of the baby,” Steve grits out, “now go ask out the man you’ve been offering to impregnate for longer than any of us are comfortable with.”

Bucky still isn’t looking at him, barely even manages a smile when the baby tugs at his tie and makes an unbearably adorable gurgling sound. “He’s just kiddin’ around,” Bucky says, voice quieter than Steve has ever heard it, “he- he doesn’t mean any of it.”

Steve glances over at the corner again, where it looks like Natasha and Rhodey are trying to talk Tony out of whatever online shopping spree he’s on. Then Steve takes a long, deep breath. “Put the baby down,” he says to Bucky calmly, “so that I can punch you in the face really, really hard.”

-

Tony knows Bucky is in the living room watching old cartoons for some reason, because he always is on Thursday afternoons, so Tony pours a second cup of coffee and carries it in from the kitchen.

“Coffee for you, oh father of my disaster children,” Tony announces as he rounds the couch, Bucky’s favorite mug outstretched, “I even made it disgustingly sweet the way you like, even though it actually hurt my soul a little bit. I felt real pain.”

“Thanks doll,” Bucky says, easy as anything, leaning forward to take the mug from Tony’s suddenly numb hand. His smile is warm and happy and gorgeous and it makes Tony’s heart start beating triple time in his chest.

“You know how you can make it up to me?” Tony asks, and his own voice echoes hollowly in his ears because he has an idea, and it’s probably a terrible one, but he thinks he might just go through with it anyways.

“How’s that, darlin’?” Bucky asks, grinning wider and he’s waiting for the same old joke but there’s something in his eyes, something Tony knows. Something that has him stumbling a half step closer, licking his lips nervously and shivering when Bucky’s eyes track the movement.

This is it, this is Tony’s last chance to chicken out, to not ruin his friendship with a sweet, clever guy that Tony’s not sure he could actually live without at this point. Tony doesn’t back out. “You could kiss me,” he says instead, voice shaking, clutching his own coffee mug to his chest like it could possibly protect him.

Bucky blinks at him slowly. “You know that’s not how babies are made, right?” He asks, one eyebrow raised, expression slowly shifting from confused to hesitantly hopeful.

“Yeah,” Tony agrees, nodding a little wildly, “but, I thought- you know, I figured it might be a good start.”

Bucky calmly sets his coffee down the on the table. Then he surges to his feet, takes Tony’s face between his big palms and finally, finally kisses him deep and hungry. Tony’s own mug goes crashing to the floor and Tony does not care at all, not when he can finally wrap his arms around Bucky without wondering how long is too long, without worrying that he’ll give himself away. All of Tony’s cards are already on the table here and Bucky is apparently right there with him, fingers sliding back into Tony’s hair and a low, desperate noise rumbling through his chest.

So Tony just holds on, tangles his own fingers in Bucky’s hair, digs his fingers into the thick muscle of Bucky’s shoulder and kisses him back. Tony kisses him back for all he’s worth, because if Bucky still thinks this is a joke then Tony is at least going to pour everything he can into it, going to do everything he can to memorize the feeling of Bucky’s lips against his, Bucky’s nails scratching at his scalp when Tony teases his tongue along the roof of his mouth.

Except Tony is starting to think this was never a joke, not to either of them, because when they break away panting Bucky’s just drags his hands down Tony’s back, pulls him in closer and sighs out “oh- Tony-“

”Also, you should put a baby in me,” Tony blurts, because how can he not, laughing giddily.

Bucky does not laugh. Instead Bucky lets out a low groan, hands sliding lower to palm at Tony’s ass as he growls “I’m gonna fuckin’ try.”

Tony is still laughing as Bucky pulls him into another kiss, and then he stops laughing, gets lost in just trying not to melt as Bucky licks into his mouth, kisses him deep and filthy. Tony completely fails, melts easy as anything under Bucky’s attention and the next thing he knows they’re on the ground, barely avoiding the spilled coffee as Bucky shoves his way between Tony’s thighs.

Bucky bites at Tony’s lip and along his jaw, slides a hand under the small of Tony’s back and hitches his hips up so Bucky can grind against the curve of his ass as he growls out “fuck, babydoll- you been tryin’ to make me think about fuckin’ you all the damn time?”

“Were you?” Tony asks, breathless and delighted, arching his back harder and grinding up against Bucky’s stomach with a shaking moan. “Because that was not an intended side effect, but I am also not complaining.”

“Still thinking about it,” Bucky says on a soft groan, nearly shoving them both across the floor with how hard he’s grinding himself against Tony, “fuck, sweet thing I have been dyin’ t’ get inside you.”

“Then fuckin’ do it,” Tony moans back, fingers scrambling at Bucky’s shoulders, yanking him into another kiss and moaning again when Bucky’s fingers slip down the back of his sweats.

Tony doesn’t even notice the approaching foot steps until he hears the voice of patriotic disapproval, screeching out “hey Bucky are you still in- oh what the fuck guys?!”

“Get the fuck out, Steve!” Bucky yells, voice rough and it sends a shiver all down Tony’s spine.

“We’re trying to make a baby here!” Tony shouts at the same time, tightens his thighs around Bucky’s hips and doesn’t stop grinding up against him.

“I hate you both and I’m so happy for you!” Steve screams back as he high tails it out of the room.

They both dissolve into laughter, and it warms Tony’s heart as much as his pants to feel Bucky’s quiet laugh rumbling through his chest and into Tony’s. He kisses Bucky again, light and sweet even though they’re both smiling too wide to really make it work, and then says “we should probably get out of the living room. I propose my bed, it’s the best.”

“Counter proposal,” Bucky says and then stands up, lifts Tony straight off the ground and up into his arms, “we find the closest room with a fuckin’ door.”

“Hnng,” Tony says in response, and Bucky laughs against his throat, digs his fingers into Tony’s ass.

They end up in the pantry, which is not ideal but definitely the closest option. Bucky presses him up against the shelves and it’s not exactly comfortable but Tony doesn’t care, because Bucky kisses him deeply and starts tearing at both their clothes. And Tony can grab ahold of the shelf above his head, try to rock himself down into it as Bucky starts fingering him open with some kind of oil from a bottle that’s currently abandoned on the floor, spilling everywhere.

“C’mon, fuck-“ Tony gasps out, thighs shaking around Bucky’s hips as Bucky’s fingers press into him again, deep and demanding. “Fuck- please hurry the fuck up, I have been- ohh-“ Tony gets a little distracted from what he’s saying when Bucky finds his prostate and decides to play with that new discovery for a minute, doesn’t let up until Tony’s entire body is flushed hot and tingly, ragged whimpers tearing from his chest and already embarrassingly close to the edge.

“What was that, sugar?” Bucky asks and oh, Tony can just hear the smirk in his voice even if he can’t see it because Bucky is doing his best to turn Tony’s neck into an impressionist painting. When Tony opens his mouth to reply Bucky slides a third finger into him, sucks hard to Tony’s pulse and it turns his words into more garbled moans.

“Fuck me already,” Tony finally manages to snarl out, digging his heels into the small of Bucky’s back and tugging him closer, “god- please honey I have been going crazy thinking about getting your cock in me and- ah, yes fuck god- and I swear if you don’t hurry the fuck up-“

Bucky cuts him off with another kiss, sloppy and breathless and Tony whines as Bucky spreads his fingers a little more, stretches him a little wider. “Been thinkin’ about this too,” Bucky says, swipes his tongue over Tony’s lip and growls when Tony shakes and clenches around his fingers, “spreading you open jus’ like this, fuckin’ you every possible way, stuff you so full you get every one of those damn kids you want so bad.”

“Bucky-“ Tony whines desperatly as every word sends another hot spike straight to his gut and fuck that shouldn’t be so hot but fuck it really is. “Please, please- fuck I swear I’m ready just fuck me open already-“ Tony trails off again when Bucky withdraws his fingers, makes whining noises of protest until the head of Bucky’s cock nudges against him, slick and huge.

And then Bucky starts pressing into him, cock spreading Tony open a little more with every hard roll of his hips while Tony moans his head off, knocking everything off the shelves as he tries to brace himself, tries to shove himself further down onto Bucky’s cock, tires to take him deeper.

“Patience, babydoll,” Bucky says, breath shaking against Tony’s jaw, “gonna fuck you just the way you want I just- damn you feel good- just gotta do this part nice an’ slow an’-“

“Fuck that,” Tony decides, finally gets his hand braced properly and shoves himself down hard, wailing breathlessly as his Bucky’s hips slam against his ass, his cock sliding so deep that Tony swears he can feel it everywhere. “Yes, god, fucking perfect,” Tony sighs and yeah that burns a bit, and yeah he’s definitely going to be feeling it tomorrow, but it is so worth if for the feeling of Bucky’s cock throbbing inside him, the slightly dazed look on Bucky’s face even as he grinds a little deeper.

Bucky’s grip is bruisingly tight on Tony’s hips, pulling him into it as Bucky rolls his hips a little harder. “Wanted it that bad, huh?” Bucky asks, scraping his teeth over the shell of Tony’s ear and tightening this grip to stop Tony from trying to fuck himself on Bucky’s cock.

“Yeah, let me have it,” Tony whines, tightening his legs around Bucky’s hips and he doesn’t care that Bucky’s jeans are digging into his thighs, that his own sweats are still hanging off one ankle, that they’re still in the goddamn pantry. All he cares about is getting properly fucked, the way he’s been dying for, and the fact that Bucky isn’t just giving it to him. “Please honey, fuck me already, make me feel it, fill me up and then fuck me again, gimme everything you got.”

“I’ll give you everthin’,” Bucky promises, warm and earnest against Tony’s lips, then withdraws and thrusts back into Tony fast and hard, knocking a loud moan out of his chest that only gets louder as Bucky immediately starts up a brutal, perfect rhythm. “Gonna give you exactly what you want,” he growls between thrusts, dropping sharp, toothy kisses along Tony’s jaw, “fuck you so full you’re leakin’ with it, an’ then do it everyday ‘til I knock you up good and proper.”

“Holy fuck,” Tony groans, finally releasing his hold on the shelves to grab for Bucky instead. Something goes crashing to the ground, definitely breaking, but all Tony can focus on is the aching pleasure of Bucky moving inside him, thick cock rubbing over his prostate and pressing so deep inside him that his every breath comes out as a warbling moan. “Please, please- oh fuck that’s perfect, you’re so perfect-“

Bucky’s next thrust is hard enough that everything on the shelves rattle, a couple more things falling to the ground and Tony nearly screams before Bucky smashes their lips together again. He licks hungrily into Tony’s mouth and pulls him impossibly closer, until he’s basically just fucking Tony up and down on his cock while Tony wails and clenches around him.

“So fuckin’ good,” Bucky gasps when they break apart again, his thrusts going short and uncoordinated, hips slapping roughly aginst Tony’s ass, “so tight and warm, take me so fuckin’ perfect, tell me you’re close sweet thing, wanna feel you come on my cock.”

“I’ve been close since the living room floor,” Tony says with a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a sob, tangling his fingers in Bucky’s hair and pulling him into a kiss that more sharing air than anything, “please, please-“

Bucky presses him harder into the shelves and gets one hand between them, rubs his thumb over the head of Tony’s cock and Tony is fucking gone. He comes with a loud, garbled moan that was intended to be Bucky’s name, orgasm washing through him in heated waves until everything goes a little warm and hazy.

“Tony, Tony- fuck-“ Bucky groans, fucking Tony into the shelves with short, hard thrusts, grinding deep and Tony can feel the way Bucky’s cock twitches inside him, “Tony-“

“C’mon honey,” Tony slurs out, rocking his hips into the next thrust and tugging at Bucky’s hair, “put your fuckin’ baby in me.”

Bucky laughs roughly against his throat, both arms wrapping tightly around Tony and grinding into him hard. “Fuck yeah doll, gonna fill you up so good, knock you right up.”

“Ohh fuck,” Tony moans, shaking as Bucky continues to rub against his prostate mercilessly and it sends shock after shock of agonizing pleasure up Tony’s spine, “c’mon, give it to me.”

“Shit,” Bucky gasps, then sinks his teeth into Tony’s shoulder and comes with a low groan, shelves rattling again as he shoves into Tony hard, comes inside him with several hot pulses that have Tony shaking and whimpering all over again.

“Fuck,” Tony says eloquently, finally going limp in Bucky’s hold and letting his head thumping back against the nearly cleared off shelves as he tries to catch his breath and let his heart rate slow back to something a little more reasonable.

When he forces his eyes open Bucky is right there, smiling at him warm and fond and Tony doesn’t know how he’s just now recognizing all the love in that expression. He really hopes Bucky can see it on his face too, because Tony doesn’t have the breath or brain power to try and put it into words right now. Bucky must get it though, because he smiles wider and cups Tony's cheek again, kisses him soft and sweet like they have all the time in the world. He doesn't seem to be in any hurry to actually set Tony back down and Tony is not complaining. Mostly because he can't quite feel his legs. Partially also because he’s still enjoying the feeling of Bucky buried deep inside him.

They break away from the kiss slowly, still sharing the same air, right up until Bucky shifts his weight and something crunches loudly beneath his foot. Tony giggles, which quickly turns into a pained groan when his head thumps back against the shelves, and then a happy groan when Bucky laughs and it shifts his half-hard cock inside Tony, messy and amazing.

“Can’t believe we finally did that,” Bucky says with another soft huff of laughter, nudging his nose against Tony’s with a goofy grin that Tony can now absolutely admit makes him go all soft and wobbly.

"Neither can I!" Comes a muffled shout from the other side of the door, and Bucky’s metal arm tightens around Tony’s waist as they both jump slightly. Then they’re both laughing, nearly drowning out the sounds of Steve’s All-American Offense as he basically screams “we can all hear you in there!!”

“In front of literally all of our food?! Really?!” That would be Clint’s voice chiming in, and Tony has to tuck his face down against Bucky’s shoulder to try and smother his combination of laughter and breathy gasps.

He can feel Bucky’s come starting to leak out of him, and he tightens his thighs around Bucky’s waist in an attempt to pull him closer. And they’d been having such a nice moment before the assholes arrived. Tony figures the least he can do is talk some shit. “Hate to break it to you puritans,” Tony calls, lifting his head again, “but this is far from the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

“That’s what I told them,” comes Rhodey’s voice, and he does in fact sound unphased. Thank god for college friendships. “Please at least put your pants back on before you come out of there, I know how you are.”

“I just want my Oreos,” comes another voice, and that would be Natasha, and Tony winces because Natasha’s special peanut butter Oreos are definitely one of the things on the ground.

“We were here first,” Bucky points out, voice still low and rumbly in a way that is giving Tony ideas.

”It’s the communal kitchen!” Steve shrieks, and if he doesn’t calm down soon his poor old heart might just give out on him.

Tony laughs, only wincing a little when he hits his head again. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he calls gleefully, “did the community want to get in here then, get in on this?”

“Fuck no,” Bucky snarls against Tony’ throat, arms tightening around him and Tony would swear he can even hear the low grumble of a growl escaping Bucky’s chest.

“Oh ho ho, possessive,” Tony says, delighted, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair and tugging slightly, “I can work with that.”

“Give you somethin’ to work with,” Bucky grumbles and Tony can feel his smirk as Bucky rolls his hips, cock sliding through the slick mess of his come, teasing over Tony’s over-sensitive prostate and almost fully hard again.

“Fuck- yes,” Tony gasps and he’s not sure Bucky even actually went soft, and they are going to have so much fun. “Want it- want you to fuck me so full I can’t move with it- Bucky-“

“Anything you want,” Bucky promises, kisses him again and thrusts his hips forward, presses Tony back into the shelves with a slick, obscene sound and swallows down Tony’s shaking groan.

On the other side of the pantry door, Rhodey shakes his head and says “we should just leave.”

“But-“ Steve starts, only to be cut off by a loud moan that he could have gone his whole life without hearing.

With one last look at each other, everyone scrambles to get out of the kitchen as fast as they possibly can. Steve is going to make them run so many drills for this.

[angelsandacceptance]

Family Remains

A ringing interrupts the relative silence in the Lincoln waking Chase up. The girls quickly locate the phone emitting the noise and answer it, quickly putting it on speakerphone upon realizing it’s Dean calling.

“What?” Chase asks annoyed and tired.

“Got a case.”

“So you decided to wake us up?” Harley asks even though she hadn’t been sleeping.

“That’s not a great excuse. Couldn’t this have waited until morning?”

“Figured we start heading there now,” Dean responds.

“Dean, let Chase and Sam sleep.”

“Thank you!” Chase exclaims before rolling back around in her spot and trying to go back to sleep. 

“Dean, If you can’t sleep, we could go for a walk. If you want,” Harley suggests.

“Yeah, okay. Don’t got anything better to do.”

“Cool. Meet you outside in a sec,” Harley says before hanging up.

Harley climbs out of their Lincoln, while Chase waits calmly. Right as she is about to close the door, Harley is startled by Chase. 

“So. Where ya goin?” Chase asks in a mocking voice.

Harley turns, a deadpan look on her face, to see Chase half sitting up, a smirk on her lips, eyebrows raised. “Go back to sleep.”

Chase raises her hands slightly in defense. “Okay, okay.” Right as the door closes, Chase calls out loud enough to be heard, “Be safe!” 

Harley groans, but doesn’t respond.

***

“Hey,” Harley says walking over to Dean.

“Be safe, huh? What did you have in mind?”

Harley punches his shoulder hard, but not hard enough to bruise as they walk away from the cars, “Shut up. Chase is clearly off her rocker. She’s been bugging me about you ever since we kissed.”

“Which time?”

“The only time she knows about. Right after you came back.”

“Yeah, I could see that. Sam’s been on me about it too. You’d think they’d get over a kiss by now.”

“I know it’s been three months of this shit.”

“So am I the hunter then?”

“Huh?”

“Last month you mentioned Chase thought you were madly in love with some hunter, and you wouldn’t tell me who.”

“Oh, yeah. That was you.”

“And you didn’t tell me, why?”

“I was embarrassed. Jeez, hitting me with the hard questions.”

Dean pulls Harley closer, slinging his arm over her shoulders, “Don’t have to be embarrassed with me, sweetheart.”

Harley just rolls her eyes and leans into Dean's side.

***

“So on a scale of one to ten, how safe were you guys?”

“I am so not answering that. Just no.”

“So a zero then? No, no, probably a ten. One, you’d tell me if you guys did anything. And two, you both are too fucking stubborn to do anything.”

“If we did have sex, and that’s a big gigantic if. Would you really want to hear about it? I mean do you really want to hear about how amazingly good your brother is in bed?”

“Yes and no… Ugh that’s annoying. I would usually 100% want all the details but, that’s disgusting. Okay, yeah, just tell me if you do the deed and if he treated you right. I need no other information.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harley smirks.

“Yeah, okay, point made. Now shut up.”

“For now. Do you think Cas is a virgin?”

Chase turns a shade of pink as a look of bewilderment spreads across it. “Wait, what, excuse-why the fuck? What is that- why is that something you ask me?”

“Because I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“That is deplorable.” Chase pauses for about one second. “But, duh. Have you seen the look of confusion he always has on? That man- angel- wouldn’t know what to do with a man or woman even if he read a “how to” book for dummies.”

Harley bursts into laughter at Chase's response.

“What?” Chase asks. “What about him makes you think he has done anything more than touch someone’s shoulder?”

“Nothing, but it sounds a hell of a lot funnier out loud than in my head.”

“That’s fair,” says Chase, sighing in relief as though dodging a bullet.

“Wait, Cas touched your shoulder. Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

“Other than Cas being a giant prude, no. Seriously, I have had like four conversations  with him that lasted more than a few sentences. What makes you see something there?” Chase throws her hands in the air for a split second before they return to the steering wheel. “For crying out loud, the first few times we were in the same room, he pretended I wasn’t there!”

“Yeah, but you think he’s cute and he ‘always notices you’.”

“Well, I do attract a lot of attention with my dazzling and annoying persona.”

“You’re only annoying sometimes.”

Chase shoots Harley a sideways glance. “Thanks,” she says dryly. 

“You’re welcome.”

Chase sighs. “Anyhow. Anything else you want to randomly talk about? Or is pestering me about Castiel the only goal you had?”

“Pizza is legally a sandwich.”

“Excuse me- what the fuck?”

“It’s true.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“Probably not.”

“Cool. Moving on!”

“There’s a Catholic Church that’s decorated in the bones of it’s parishioners.”

Chase just sighs in defeat. “Anything else?” she asks dejectedly. “Or can I be allowed peace this once?”

“I can’t think of anything else, so sure.”

“Alright then, back to you and Dean!”

“Fuck my life,” Harley groans.

***

“Boy, three bedrooms, two baths, and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes,” Dean says upon entering the supposedly haunted house. 

The Winchesters and Co. immediately go to separate areas and investigate the house for any signs of paranormal activity. 

“Hey, check this out,” Harley says, knocking on the wall. “It’s hollow.”

“It’s probably just a dumbwaiter.” 

Everyone looks to Chase who shrugs. “What? I used to read about older houses like this.”

“Know-it-all,” Dean mutters. 

“You wanna say that again?”

“Say what again?”

“You said- you. Jackass.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You guys need to grow up. I thought I was the youngest.”

“You still are, Sammy-boy,” Chase says grinning. 

Another eyeroll is earned. “Let’s continue checking out the house.”

“Agreed,” Harley says, concealing laughter.

They wander into a large bedroom, investigating further.

“Well, no bloodstains, fresh coat of paint, it's a bunch of bubkes,” Dean says after a few moments.

“Needle’s all over the place,” Sam says, looking at the EMF reader.

“Yeah, power lines most likely.”

“Know-it-all,” Dean mutters again.

Chase shoots him a look.

Harley goes to the closet and opens the door. She sees a decapitated doll’s head lying on the floor, and slowly closes the door.

“What was that?” Chase asks her. Harley motions for her to go ahead and check. Skeptically, Chase opens the door. She stares down in confused horror. “Uh huh, okay then.”

The boys look over her shoulder, and mimic her expression. 

“Well, that’s super disturbing,” Dean says.

“Think it got left behind?”

“By who?” Dean asks. 

“Unless Bill Gibson liked to play with doll heads,” Chase scoffs.

“Or Sid from Toy Story lived here,” Harley says.

Chase laughs, only to stop, hearing a car outside. 

“I thought you said this place was still for sale?” Dean demands. 

“Apparently not anymore,” Sam says sarcastically. 

“Wait, what?” Chase asks. “Did you two not see the ‘Sold’ sign outside?”

“No,” Dean responds hastily, before rushing to the front door. The other three quickly follow behind him. 

“Who are they?” A teenage girl asks.

“Can I help you?” A man asks them. 

“Are you the new owners?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah. You guys are?”

“This is Mr. Stanwyk. I'm Mr. Babar. County code enforcement. Those two are Miss Wentz and Mrs. Babar. Specialists.”

Harley shoots Dean a look, before shaking off the comment. 

“We had the building inspected last week. Is there a problem?”

“Asbestos in the walls, a gas leak.” Sam lists it off hurriedly, obviously just wanting the family gone. “Yeah, I’d say we have a problem.”

“Asbestos? Meaning what?”

“Meaning until this house is up to par, you can’t stay here. It’s uninhabitable,” Chase explains. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You mean we can’t stay here?”

“Obviously,” Chase deadpans. 

“It’s a health hazard,” Dean amends, rolling his eyes at his sister. “You don’t want to.”

“Hold up, we just drove four hundred miles!”

“Look, what’s your name?” Chase asks. 

“Ted.”

“Look, Ted. This house is a health hazard. You’ve got fairly young kids as well as yourself. Staying here is not a bright idea.”

“There’s a motel just down the road. Until this gets cleared up, I suggest you stay there,” Harley adds. 

“All right, and what if we don’t?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Wentz!” Sam says warningly. 

“You either get a fine or you go to jail. Pick your poison.”

“One night,” the man says. “One night and I’ll take care of everything. ASAP, I promise.”

“You do that,” Dean says. 

“Another motel? Awesome, Dad. I hope this one has hooker sheets, like the last one,,” the teenager pipes up.

Harley laughs and cracks a smile at the comment.

“Danny!” The mom of the group calls out as they near their car.

“Come on, Danny!” The man who isn’t Ted shouts.

Harley gently hits Dean as soon as they’re out of view. “Where do you get off pretending I’m your bloody wife without warning me.”

***

“What did the room look like when you found it, Mrs. Curry?” Harley asks gently.

“I already told the local boys, there was blood everywhere.”

“And Mr. Gibson? Where was he?” Dean asks.

She shakes her head. “Everywhere.”

Chase has to stifle a laugh, only successfully disguising it as a cough after Harley elbows her in the stomach slightly. 

“How long have you been cleaning Mr. Gibson’s house?”

“About five years.”

“So you knew him pretty well,” Dean surmises. 

“Well, not really. He was real private. Not the easiest man. Not that I blame him.”

“What do you mean?” Harley asks. 

“His wife died in childbirth. Daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later. I’d be bitter too. Oh, I think I got some pictures.” With that, she goes off to find them. She quickly returns. “Here.”

“Thanks. Can we keep these?”

“Suit yourself.”

“So, why did she kill herself?” Chase asks. 

“I don’t know. Was before my time.”

“Did you ever notice anything odd around the house when you were cleaning it?” Dean asks. 

“Like what?”

“Like,” Dean pauses. 

“Like, you know. Lights going on and off and things not being where you put them,” Harley lists. 

“Well, maybe there was one thing.”

“What’s that?” Sam asks. 

“Well, sometimes, I thought I heard like a...rustling in the walls.”

“Like a rat?” Dean asks.

“Yeah.”

“Must have been some big sons of guns out there, huh?”

“Wouldn't know. Never saw any.”

“Do you happen to know where Mrs. Gibson and her daughter were buried?” Sam asks.

“They were cremated.”

Winchesters and Co. headed back out to the cars.

“All right. So it probably wasn't the mom or the daughter. Whose ghost was it?” Sam says narrowing down their list of suspects to nothing.

“I don't know. But I say we give that place a real once-over and see,” Dean says.

“Lovely now all we got is who it probably isn’t,” Harley sighs.

“We’ve got a whole lot of nada and a shit ton of zip. I’m just tired of this already,” Chase complains. 

***

Chase and Harley pulled up to the haunted house of the week with the Impala not far behind. The house’s lights were on and they could see people moving around.

“Shit! They stayed in the house!”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Fucking dumbasses.”

“They’re gonna get themselves killed.”

“We did warn them though. So, technically, we are not liable.”

“I love you,” Harley says laughing.

Chase laughs in response, her eyes tearing up slightly. “Am I wrong? Just, am I wrong? No. Exactly.”

“Definitely not wrong.”

“When have I ever been wrong?”

“You’re wrong about me and Dean.”

“Ah, but you are actually the wrong one. Guess who has another few photos to add to her collection? Me. And why is that? Oh yes. Because I caught you two cuddling! Again!”

“You know it’s kind of creepy that you have a bunch of pictures of me sleeping half naked.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not creepy because you’re with Dean and in my defense, Sam has the same file. That’s creepy. At least I’m a girl.”

“That doesn’t make it any less creepy.”

“But it does.”

“Dude, you’re into chicks. And you have pictures of me half naked. It’s weird.”

“I have literally seen you nude. Remember when we went skinny dipping that once? C’mon get a better argument. You know you don’t count. You’re practically my sister.” Chase smirks. “And soon to be sister.”

“It’s still weird. And no I’m not.”

“Oh come on. At least do it so we’re actually related finally.”

“I should’ve never kissed him in front of you.”

“Oh, so you would kiss him not in front of me? Wait. Have you kissed him before but not in front of me? How could you not tell me this?!”

“Because it’d only fuel your weird ship. Sometimes you just need a little affection.”

“OH MY GOD YOU JUST ADMITTED YOU HAVE KISSED HIM BEFORE OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

“Platonically.”

“There is no such thing as platonic kissing if it’s you and Dean.”

“Yes, there is. Although something was definitely different earlier today,” Harley says, shooting Dean a text.

Chase lets out an inhuman squeal in response. “You kissed earlier?! When?”

“While we were watching Scooby-Doo.”

“How romantic.”

Harley rolls her eyes at Chase.

“Give me details. Was it like for long or just short? Was it French? Wait, it’s Dean. Do I want to know? Nevermind, obviously I do. Sooo. Tell me everything.”

“I’m not dignifying that with a response.” Harley says, getting out of the Lincoln and sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“You are such a child. Just tell me.”

Harley doesn’t respond; just sits on the hood of the car. Chase groans dramatically. 

***

Screams erupt from inside the house and the four hunters quickly rush to aid the family. Pounding on the door with a frown, Dean takes the lead. 

The man- Brian- opens the door. “Oh, you. Did you touch my daughter?”

“What? No,” Dean says confused. “I have her.” Dean makes a motion with his thumb, gesturing behind him to Harley, who rolls her eyes at him.

“Who are you guys?” Brian asks.

“Relax, please. You have a ghost,” Sam calmly states.

Chase resists snorting a laugh at the comment, covering it up with a cough. “We’re here to help,” she revises. 

“A ghost,” Brian says again, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“I told you!” Hooker Sheets Girl exclaims.

“It’s the girl!” Danny says. 

“Both of you relax,” Brian chastises before turning the group. “What are you four playing at?”

“Oh nothing much, just saving you lives.” Harley says offhandedly.

“Your family is in danger,” Chase says. 

“You need to get out of the house,” Dean demands. The girls roll their eyes at his abrasiveness. 

All of a sudden, the lights go out, pitching the group into darkness. 

“Nobody move,” Dean commands. 

“Buster!” Danny calls out, hearing their dog start to bark and whine.

The four hunters follow Brian out of the house, alongside Ted. The group, while chasing Brian who is yelling for Buster desperately, comes across the words, ‘TOO LATE’, painted in large red letters. 

The rest of Brian’s family comes out onto the porch, gasping at the sight before them.

“Go back inside. Go!” Brian yells at his kids; worried for their safety.

“We are not the bad guys, but you're in danger.” Dean states sternly.

“First thing's first. You got to get your family out of here.” Sam says quickly.

“Head to the motel I was talking about. You'll be safe there,” Harley says. 

“What’re you guys gonna do?” 

“We’re going to solve your ghost problem, obviously,” Chase says. 

“Oh, come on! No!” Dean exclaims, drawing everyone’s attention. 

All of the vehicles have slashes in all four tires. 

“Excuse me? That fucking ghost is gonna pay!” Chase shouts, running over to Jack. “My poor baby.” She shoots a quick glance at the group behind her, “Sorry, excuse my french.”

Sam pops Baby’s trunk and looks for any of their supplies, while Harley checks Jack’s.

“Dude, the guns are gone. So is the... Basically, everything is gone.” Sam says.

“Same over here.” Harley sighs.

Ted had disappeared to check on his truck unnoticed, and only just returned. “Truck's no good.”

“Tires slashed?” Brian asks, and Ted just nods.

“What kind of ghost messes with a man’s ride?” Dean whines.

“Really though,” Chase agrees. “That’s a new level of bastard.”

“What's going on? What's going on?” The teenage girl asks before screaming, “She's there! She's there!”

“Where?!” The mom asks.

“She was right there in the woods!” The girl yells.

“What's a ghost doing outside?” Dean asks.

“Maybe it’s picking apples, Dean. For apple pie,” Chase says sarcastically. “Why are you asking? Does it look like we know why a ghost is outside?”

“Hey, it was a rhetorical question!”

“Do you two want to stay out here arguing and find out?” Sam demands. 

“Are you crazy? We need to get the hell out of here!” Ted says freaking out.

“In what, Ted?! In what?! I don’t see a horse ‘n carriage anywhere, do you?!” Harley yells, fed up with their ignorance.

“Everyone back in the house,” Dean shouts. “Move! Now!”

***

“Whatever's outside, it can't get in this circle. As long as the salt line is unbroken, this is the safest place to be,” Dean explains. 

“Safe from ghosts?” Brian asks skeptically. 

“Actually, yeah, so shut up and just listen to us,” Chase snaps. These people were starting to get on her nerves.

“Okay, I’m not listening to this anymore. Come on. I got to get my family out of here.”

“Nobody is going anywhere until we kill this thing,” Harley reiterates. 

“Sir, please, this is what we do.” Sam casts a wary glance at the other hunters. “Just trust us.”

“You hunt ghosts?” Danny asks excitedly.

“You betcha,” Chase says with a smile. 

“Like Scooby-Doo?”

It is believed at this moment, Chase and Sam could’ve sworn they saw both Dean and Harley fall in love with the boy. Both of their faces widened with grins as they nod. 

“Better,” Dean says playfully. 

“You saw her outside, right? Okay. Does she look like either one of the girls?” Sam asks, showing them a couple of pictures.

“Her. She was paler and a lot dirtier, but that was her,” Kate says. 

“That’s the girl in the walls,” Danny adds. 

“The girl in the picture- she’s dead?”

“She killed herself in this house.”

“Wow, Harley. Tact,” Chase says flatly.

Harley just shrugs. 

“So the maid got her story wrong?”  Chase asks. “Rebecca didn’t get cremated?”

“Unless she’s attached to something else in the house,” Sam says.

“She hung herself in the attic, right?” Dean asks.

“You wanna babysit?” Sam asks. “I’ll check it out.”

“I’ll stay with Dean,” Chase says. “Harley, you go with Sam. Is that okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Harley asks, confusion written on her face.

Chase glances at Dean out of the corner of her eye, before quickly looking back at Harley. “No idea.”

“Weirdo.”

“Look—I don't care who hung themselves where. Maybe something is going on here, but—” Ted starts. 

“It’s a spirit, man,” Dean says.

“No, it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch, and I'm not about to sit around here waiting for her to go all Deliverance on my ass.”

Chase laughs at his comment. “Okay, so you’re not all bad.”

“Nobody’s leaving this house,” Dean snaps. 

“Stop me,” Ted challenges. 

Harley butts in between Ted and Dean, moving her jacket and flannel so her gun is visible. “Listen. I've got a gun. You don't get your ass back in that circle, you're gonna have yourself a third hole.”

“Technically a fifth.” Everyone looks at Chase with an annoyed expression. “What?”

“You guys cool?” Sam asks.

Chase and Dean nod. “Go,” Dean says.

***

Harley and Sam arrive in the attic and pull out their flashlights. 

“God, there’s so much fucking dust,” Harley sighs, heading to an unmarked box on the floor.

“Yeah. Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Is Harley your real name, because there’s no record of a Harley Pawlak, but there was a C-”

“Don’t say it!”

“So that is you?”

“No, she’s who I used to be. She’s been dead a long time.”

“What happened?”

“Trauma, growing up. Pick your poison.”

“Off limits, noted.”

“Wait. Why were you looking me up?”

“I did it awhile back, I think it was after the first time we caught you and Dean sleeping together.”

“Had to make sure I was good enough for your brother?”

“Yeah. Kinda.”

“You do know nothing is actually going on right?”

“So Dean has told me, many times.” Sam sighs before perking up at finding a journal. “I think I found something!”

“What?”

“Rebecca’s journal.”

“Sweet! Now we can get out of this musty old attic,” She says before sneezing.

***

“I can’t believe we got ourselves into this,” Chase groans. “This would all be over with already if you lot had just left when we told you to.”

“You couldn’t really expect us to leave,” Brian says. 

“Well, no, I merely said it for the sake of my health,” Chase responds sarcastically.

“Chase, why are you such a child all the time?” Dean asks. 

“And why are you such a dick?”

“Now that’s just uncalled for,” Dean says with an eye roll and a pout. 

“Hey. Fonzie. Question for you. This indestructible force field made out of salt... Have to be kosher stuff, or what?” Ted asks. 

Chase whirls around, but Dean grabs her arm, pulling her towards him. 

“Ted, knock it off,” Susan says.

They all freeze when they hear a sound only a small distance away.

“Dean-”

“It’s fine.”

“What was that?” Kate asks.

They all look around, before spotting her. The girl from the photo was there, opening the door. 

“Stay calm, guys,” Chase says. 

“She's a ghost. She can't come in the circle,” Dean explains.

They all watch carefully as she slowly approaches them. She stops at the salt line and gazes at it warily, before brandishing a knife, and stepping over the line. Chase blanches while Dean looks on in panic. 

“I thought you said ghosts couldn't cross the circle.”

“They can’t. She’s not a ghost.”

The girl attacks Dean, but he manages to fight and hold her off. 

“Dean!” Chase cries out in panic, attempting to help him. 

“Chase, get them out of here!”

“But-”

“Now!”

Chase nods before herding the others outside, running away from Dean. 

She sighs in relief however, hearing Sam and Harley.

***

“Where is everyone?” Dean asks, coming outside to see Brian and an annoyed Chase.

“Hiding, which is where this lunatic should be, but he isn’t.”

“I want to help.”

“Go get your family,” Dean says. “Go!”

Brian rushes off to get his family while the four hunters look at one another. “So,” Chase says. “Not a ghost.”

“Just a girl then,” Sam adds. 

“Girl?” Dean asks incredulously. “It's psycho Nell. I'm telling you, man—humans.”

“So who is she then?” Harley asks. 

“I don't know. Maybe it's the daughter, Rebecca. Maybe she didn't hang herself.”

“Dean, you realize she would be like, fifty now or something.”

“Well, what did you two find in the attic?” Dean asks Harley and Sam.

“Not much,” Sam says. 

“Just Rebecca’s old diary.”

“I wish you'd found a howitzer. Listen, we got to get this family safe. I mean, it's just a human, so they can make a run for it. We just got to hold her off,” Dean says. 

“We're okay,” Susan says as the family runs up to the hunters.

“Danny! Ted!” Brian calls out. “We’ve got to go!”

“I’m good!” Ted calls back, running over.

“Danny, come on!” Susan calls this time. 

“Danny!” Brian calls again. “Buddy, we got to go!”

“Told you it was some crazy bitch,” Ted says. 

“Yeah, you did. Want a sticker or something?” Chase asks, rolling her eyes.

“Head to town. We’ll take it from here,” Sam says. 

“Danny, come on, baby! We're leaving!” Susan calls again.

“Danny, we’ve got to go!”

“Brian, where- where is he?”

“Danny!”

“Danny!” Susan calls. 

“Suse, Suse, Suse. We will find Danny, I promise you,” Brian says.

“No,” Susan says, in denial, shaking her head as though she couldn’t believe this was happening.

“No. Take Kate and go now. Now, while you still have a chance.”

“Not without Danny.”

“I am not going out there with mom alone.”

“She’s right,” Dean says. “Until we find your son, the safest place for you right now would be in the shed.”

Kate looks at him like he’s grown another head, “I’m not going in there either.”

“Yes, you are. It is the best defense. The windows are boarded up. It's got one door. It's our best shot right now. Trust me,” Harley says. 

Kate looks at her warily, but nods finally. 

“Suse, Kate, go.” Brian nods towards the shed. “Go.”

“Okay,” Sam starts. “You three go take the house,” he continues, gesturing to Harley, Dean, and Ted. “The three of us will take outside.”

***

Dean, Harley, and Ted walk into the house. Ted begins poking around the room and finds a butcher’s knife. While Dean investigates the walls and Harley the floor; actually doing something useful.

“What are you doing?” Ted asks.

“She's human. She had to come from somewhere.” Harley answers in a snarky manner.

Dean finds a loose board and pulls it free of the rest of the wall. Ted flinches at the smell emanating from the hole.

“You smell that?” Ted asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Every day,” Dean replies.

“You get used to it,” Harley adds.

Dean pulls a knife out and shines his flashlight through the hole before entering it, “Come on.”

Harley quickly followed suit with Ted in tow. They stop at a hole.

“You’re not going down there,” Ted says.

“Do you want to?” Harley challenges.

Ted stays silent.

“That’s what I thought.”

Dean starts lowering himself down, “Please nobody grab my leg. Please nobody grab my leg.” 

Harley does the same after him. Dean shines his flashlight throughout the room. When it lands on Buster’s body torn to shreds. Dean quickly turns around and turns Harley so she’s facing away from the dog.

“What are you doing?” Harley asks, confused.

“Just get out of the hole,” Dean says.

“Why?”

“Just trust me, you don’t want to see this.”

“Okay?” Harley says unsure, but struggles to get up before Dean gives her a boost.

“Danny?” Dean calls out after Harley gets back up.

“Find anything?” Ted asks.

“Yeah, her kitchen,” Dean responds.

“Her what?”

Ted turns around and the girl stabs him through the neck.

“Dean! She’s here!” Harley yells as Ted falls on her.

Dean hurries to climb through the hole while Harley pushes Ted’s body off of her.

***

Chase paces back and forth, ignoring the stares of the rest of the family, as well as her own brother. 

“Chase,” Sam says. Chase doesn’t even hear him, mumbling to herself. “Chase!” Sam repeats. 

Chase’s head jerks up, as she finally takes notice of Sam. “Yeah, what?”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pacing. You’re giving me anxiety.”

“Yeah, well, I have anxiety all the time, so deal with it.”

Sam rolls his eyes as Chase begins to pace again, continuing her incessant mumbling. 

“Look, why are we just standing here? Let’s go check the house,” Brian suggests. 

“Yeah, no bueno. No offense, but that’s an awful idea,” Chase says.

“It’s better than pacing around like you! How’s that gonna help?” Brian demands.

“You wanna go? You’re only in this mess because you prideful assholes didn’t want to listen to us in the first place!”

Brain turns away, silenced by the indisputable facts of Chase’s accusation. 

“Best thing we can do is just wait for the others to get back, okay?” Sam says, trying to ease the tension in the air.

A few moments later, the group startles at the sudden knocking.

“Sam, it’s us,” Dean says. 

“Chase, could you please open the door?” Harley asks, sounding slightly aggravated.

“Help me,” Chase says, jumping into action to move the items blocking the door. 

Harley and Dean rush in as soon as the door opens, only to shut it behind them. 

“Where’s Danny? Did you find him?” Susan asks hurriedly. 

“No,” Dean says shortly. 

“Okay, well where’s Ted?”

“Outside.”

“Well why doesn’t he come inside?”

Chase at that moment realizes what happened.

“Because I had to carry him out. I’m sorry,” Dean continues, looking to the ground. 

“What- what does that mean?”

“Are you saying he’s dead?” Brian asks. 

“No, of course not. That’s not what he’s saying, right?” Susan asks. 

“We were in the walls and she attacked,” Harley explains. 

“Oh my God,” Susan gasps. 

“I couldn’t make it to him in time,” Dean continues. 

“Uncle Ted is dead?” Kate asks, looking back and forth between the adults. 

“She snuck up behind us, I’m sorry Kate,” Harley says gently.

Dean leaves the shed and Harley follows behind him.

Chase looks at them as they leave before sighing heavily. She turns to Sam. “Anything useful in there?” she asks, gesturing to Rebecca’s diary. 

Sam shakes his head, “Not yet.”

“We’ll find him, Suse. We will.”

“Where else is there to look? He’s dead,” Susan says dejectedly. 

“Don’t say that,” Chase says gently, cutting in. “We will get your son back.”

“And if he’s already dead? She killed my brother and now she’s killed my son.”

“Danny is still alive,” Brian says. 

“No, he isn’t,” Susan argues. 

“Yes, he is. Do you remember what he said about the girl who lived in the walls? She said he could stay,” Brian explains. 

Chase looks at him in shock. “Wow, you actually just said something useful.”

“I just don't understand why this happens to us. I mean, we're good people. We're a good family.”

“What happened to Andy happened, okay? I cannot change that. But I will find Danny, I promise you. And when I do, we are gonna be fine. You and me, the kids, we're gonna be fine.”

Chase looks to Sam and takes notice of his eyes darting away from them and back to the diary. She shakes her head lightly. 

Brian nods to Chase before heading outside, presumably to where Dean and Harley had gone to. 

***

“You okay?” Harley asks.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be,” Dean responds not so convincingly.

“Because I know you. You’ll blame Ted’s death on yourself. Which is ridiculous. If anyone should get the blame it should be me. Not that I actually care.”

“You just got up there.” Dean defends her.

“So it was no one’s fault.”

“ I guess you're right. But I doubt my subconscious will accept that.”

“Fair enough.”

“The most important thing is you’re still alive, so there’s that at least.”

“Did I just get Dean Winchester to look on the bright side?” Harley teases.

“I think plenty of positive thoughts.”

“Like what?”

“Like you without a bra, see positive.”

“Pervert.”

“You love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

***

Brain stares up at the house, taking deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm. 

“Andy your son?” Dean asks. Brian glances at him quickly. He nods.

“Oldest. He got himself killed in a car accident last year.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It nearly tore Suse and I apart. Still could, I imagine. That's why we moved here. Fresh air, fresh start. Not even my line. Marriage counselor. 'Course, she might be right. After all, what could possibly go wrong in the country?”

Harley allows herself a bitter laugh, to which Brian raises his brows, cracking a smile. 

“I'm getting your son back. If it's the last godforsaken thing I do,” Dean says seriously. 

“Why do you care so much?” Brian asks him. 

“Dean,” Sam says. “Harley.”

The three look to see Chase and Sam approaching them. Sam holds up the diary. 

“We gotta talk,” Chase says shortly. 

***

“What is that?” Dean asks as the four of them walk into the house. 

“Rebecca’s diary,” Harley says. “Sam and I found it earlier.”

“I just finished reading it,” Sam explains. 

“And?” Dean asks. 

“That girl back there? Pretty sure she was Rebecca's daughter,” Chase explains. 

“Rebecca had a kid?” Harley asks.

“It's all she talks about. Being pregnant, being ashamed of being pregnant,” Sam explains.

“Jeez, rent Juno and get over it. Wait, why kill herself after the baby?” Dean asks.

“Wow, Dean. Sympathetic,” Chase responds sarcastically.

“Maybe because her dad called her a dirty little whore and said he was gonna lock the baby up,” Sam responds.

“Why would he say that?” Harley asks. 

Chase and Sam exchange glances before pointedly looking back at Harley and Dean.

“Oh, gross.”

“Yeah,” Chase says.

“So the daddy was the baby daddy too?” Dean asks. 

“Dean, you have got to work on being tactful.”

“Dude was a monster, Dean,” Sam says.

“Wow, a story ripped from an Austrian headline. Humans,” Harley says, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“Harley, you’re still partially human,” Chase reminds her.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“So she's been locked up her whole life?” Dean asks. 

“You saw her eyes. Has she ever seen light? She's barely human,” Sam says.

“Okay, so, what, then, she's been caged up like an animal and she busts out and ganks dear old Dad? Slash Granddad?” Dean asks.

“I guess,” Sam shrugs.

“Well, can't say I blame her,” Chase says. “Someone did that to me, I might’ve not lasted as long. I definitely would have snapped eventually though.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I blame her either,” Dean agrees.

“I'm sure her life was hell, Dean. It doesn't mean she gets a free pass for murder.”

“Like you know what hell's like.”

Sam makes a surprised and regretful face, “I didn't-”

“Forget it,” Dean says.

“What the hell, Dean?”

Dean looks to Chase in shock.

“You can’t not talk to us about it, then use it against us, Dean. That’s not fucking fair.”

“You can’t even begin to imagine what hell is like-”

“Yeah, because you never fucking talk to us, Dean! So shut the hell up about it or tell us. Then, then you might be able to use that against us.”

Dean just stares at Chase in shock, before turning away. 

“So where do we find her?” Sam interjects awkwardly, trying to break the silence.

“Kid's gotta eat, right?” Dean says, ignoring Chase.

“What?”

“He kept her hidden, locked up, but he had to feed her, didn't he?”

“I guess.”

“I think we know where,” Harley says, realizing where Dean was going with his train of thought.

***

The four hunters are breaking a hole into the kitchen wall, letting light into the shaft of the dumbwaiter. 

“Could've kept her hidden here for years. Kept her fed, nobody would ever know,” Sam says. 

Brian, who had insisted on coming with them, calls out for his son. “Danny! Danny!”

Dean shines a light down the shaft. “Watch out, I'm going down.”

“No. That's my son,” Brian attempts to argue.

“I know it is, but I said that I would get him. I will. Let me.”

Dean looks down and up the shaft and scoots through the hole, then starts to climb down the side.

“Hey, you got curtains? We need rope,” Chase says, getting an idea.

While Sam holds the light for Dean, Brian and Harley search around for curtains or fabric they can tie together for rope.

“You good down there?” Chase calls out. 

“Yeah, just got to the bottom!” Dean pauses, obviously rustling around a bit. “Bitch is a klepto,” he finally mutters.

They all wait, having tied together enough curtains to make rope long enough, and finally, after several minutes, hear a boy’s yell. 

“Was that Danny?” Brian asks.

“Know of any other boy we’re looking for?” Chase asks sarcastically.

Sam drops one end of a rope of knotted curtains down the shaft. Danny appears at the bottom.

“Danny!” Sam exclaims. Upon his urging, Danny ties himself into the rope.

“Okay!” Danny calls up, signalling that it’s clear to hoist him up.

“Okay, pull!” Sam says.

“Come on, buddy. Come on, buddy. Don't look back, Danny. Just come on, come on,” Brian mutters as they continue to pull Danny up the shaft.

Once Danny is to the top, Brian grabs onto him, hugging him. “Come on. You okay? It's okay.”

“Get him out of here. You gotta go,” Chase says. 

As soon as Danny and Brian have left, Sam turns the light back down the shaft.

“Dean?” Harley calls.

“Dean!” Chase says again.

Sam quickly starts descending the rope, hearing a gunshot go off. Harley and Chase hold onto the rope, steadying it for Sam. 

Five minutes later, the two reappear, climbing up the rope. 

“Oh thank God,” Chase cries, throwing herself onto Dean. “I got so worried that the last thing I’d said to you was about-”

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Dean says, trying to be soothing, hugging his younger sister. He brushes a hand through her hair, making eye contact with Harley, who also shows relief at Dean being safe. 

***

Dean jacks down the Impala after replacing the tires. Sam pulls Dean’s duffel out of the repacked trunk and throws it in the back of the car. 

Harley and Chase pack up their things, Jack parked alongside Baby. Brian and Susan walk over.

“Thanks for the head start,” Dean says. 

“Why doesn't it surprise me you guys don't like the police?” Brian asks. 

“Because it’s not surprising,” Chase says. 

“It's sort of a mutual-appreciation thing, really,” Sam responds. 

“Well, thank you.”

“Thank you,” Susan says.

“You okay?” Dean asks the couple.

“No, we're the opposite of okay, but we're together,” Susan replies.

“Thanks again,” Brian says.

The group nods to the family before gathering the last of their things and heading on their way.

***

Sam, Harley, Chase, and Dean all sit around, eating burgers. Well, the first three are. Dean, however, simply unwraps his burger, only to rewrap it.

“You okay?” Sam asks.

“You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that.”

“You were in hell, Dean. Look, maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human,” Sam says. 

“Yeah, you're right. I wasn't like them. I was worse. They were animals, Sam, defending territory. Me? I did it for the sheer pleasure.”

“What?” Chase asks, slightly confused.

“I enjoyed it, guys. They took me off the rack, and I tortured souls, and I liked it. All those years, all that pain. Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I felt, it just slipped away. No matter how many people I save, I can't change that. I can't fill this hole. Not ever.”

“That’s not your fault, Dean,” Chase says. 

“It is, and I’m going to have to live with that.”

Chase, determined to be of some support, simply wraps an arm around Dean’s waist. “But you will never have to live with that weight by yourself. Not as long as you have me. Not as long as you have us.”

[mattygraygubler]

our campus: chapter 3 (tom holland fanfic)

summary: frat!tom and reader go to the same college and y/n is tasked with being his tutor, they don’t really get along at first (because i love reader and tom hating each other trope)

warnings: talk of being roofied, drinking

word count: 3.1k

a/n: more dialogue and texts????? someone come take my laptop away ALSO bold is texts or emails, u get it

for a list of characters click here

to be added to the tag list send me an ask !

masterlist

✰✰✰✰✰

“So???” Emily said immediately as you sat down at your usual table for lunch. You dropped your salad and slid into the seat next to Ally. 

“So what?” You asked, even though you knew exactly what she was talking about. 

“Tutor boy! Is he hot for teacher yet?” Emily said with a wink. 

“God, Em, you’re the worst.” You replied. 

“And you are avoiding the question.” Isabelle said as she grabbed your iced tea. “You can have this back after you dish.” 

“Fine. His name is Tom Holland-” you were interrupted by Ally choking on her water, spitting all over her empty plate. 

“Tom Holland?! God, Y/N, I am so sorry.” Ally said. “He’s the fucking worst.” 

“What what what explain now.” Emily said in one breath. 

“Ok so first of all he’s super hot, so no matter what he auditions for, he always gets cast. In fact, he’s currently starring in Romeo and Juliet, which if you remember I’m stage managing. So needless to say, I unfortunately have to work very, very closely with him.” 

“Al, why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Emily said giddily. 

“For Y/N’s sake, I was praying it wasn’t him.”

“What was he like?” Isabelle asked you. 

“Well he came up to me and hit on me before realizing I was his tutor.” You said, and then proceeded to tell the rest of the horrible story of your first encounter with Tom. 

“Ohmigod he’s totally into you,” Emily said in one breath. 

“Yeah, you need to stop tutoring him.” Isabelle said. 

“Iz, are you INSANE?!” Emily replied. 

“What? He’s obviously incredibly disrespectful. She shouldn’t waste her time.” 

“Look, I’m gonna give him the benefit of the doubt. The second he breaks a rule, I’m done.” 

“I love it when you give boys rules, it’s so hot,” Isabelle said and you all laughed. 

The rest of the day passed by relatively quickly, and thankfully the delta nu meeting finished early, meaning you could get some work done before Tom showed up. 

You were sat in the hlab, getting some work done for your political conflict class, when a figure slid in across from you, pulling one of your headphones out of your ear. 

“Jess!” You greeted Jessie with a smile. 

“I have goss.” She replied. Just like Jessie, always straight to the point, and always the center of gossip. 

“About who?” You asked, intrigued. 

“You.”

“Me?” She nodded, a giddy smile on her lips. 

“Word around the quad is that a certain tutee of yours has a little crush.”

“Jessie, what are you talking about.” 

“Tom told Harrison, who told James, who told Max, who told me that he said you were gorgeous and that he didn’t think he could work with someone he was so attracted to.” You rolled your eyes. 

“What a bunch of bullshit. He’s just a horny frat boy.”

“Y/N! You LOVE horny frat boys!”

“Well he’s not my type.” 

“How?! He’s absolutely gorgeous.” 

“You fuck him then!”

“Believe me, I’ve tried.” Jessie said with a laugh. You raised your eyebrows. “Okay, I haven’t really tried, Max has this rule about me fooling around with his frat brothers.” 

Max and Jessie were unseperable ever since freshman seminar, when Max came out as gay at an hc party and Jessie decided he was adorable and needed her protection. Since then, Jessie was a rock for Max, and no one, besides the juniors in hc, knew he was gay. Including his fraternity brothers. 

“Whatever, I’m not interested.” You said. 

“Y/N you truly are impossible sometimes. You’re never gonna get frat bingo until you get delt, and he’s a delt.” You sighed. After being roofied by a delt freshman year, you almost gave up on frat bingo. You would’ve been the first in your friend group to get it if you hadn’t given up on delt. Ally dropped out sophomore year, Isabelle fell behind when she got a boyfriend, and Emily was a bit behind you. 

She would never admit it, but Emily was a prude. To an extent, of course. She played the flirt so well people didn’t realize that she rarely slept with guys, and never guys she didn’t know. 

“Look I need some food. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Jessie asked. You nodded, and immediately began texting your friends. 

♡girly girls♡

You

ok we have an issue

Al

What’s up?

You

well apparently tom told his frat brothers that he has a crush on me and doesnt want me to tutor him because hes “too attracted” to me

Em

holy

fucking

shit

he did not

Iz

i said from the start this was a bad idea. do you like him N/N?

You

i mean not really. hes not my type. 

Al

of course he isnt, hes not emotionally unavaliable and incredibly intelligent but incredibly problematic

You

w o w way to read me to filth al

Al

it had to happen

You

whatever its almost 915 so i better go

love u losers

You put down your phone, pulling out your political conflict textbooks and start reading. Soon, you were engrossed in the greek war of independence, completely forgetting where you were or what time it was. 

Books did that to you too often. In fact, it made you insecure. For so long you didn’t think you were as smart as the other hc kids, you were just a fast reader. Freshman year, when you really got close to the other hc kids, you realized that they were your people. You belonged. 

You glanced at your phone. 9:45. He was a half hour late. 

You debated texting him, but decided against it. You would wait for him to show up, tell him he broke a rule, block his number, email G, and move on. 

It took another ten minutes for him to show up. 

“Evening sweetheart,” he said as he stumbled into the hlab, which was now completely empty except for you. He sat across from you and started unzipping his backpack. 

“No need to unpack, this shouldn’t take long.” You said. He looked at you quizzically. “It’s two minutes before ten. You’re incredibly late, and my time is incredibly valuable. It’s also fairly obvious you’ve been drinking. I don’t have time for slobs who get drunk on a Monday and aren’t respectful to people who are giving up their time to help you.” 

You slung your bag over your shoulder and started to walk out. 

“Y/N, c’mon, you’re being dramatic. I promise I won't do it again.” He said from behind you. You stopped cold and turned slowly to face him, although he was still a good 10 feet away from you. 

“Did you just call me… dramatic?” 

“I’m sorry, darling, but you were-”

“Stop. Do not call me darling, and never, ever call a girl dramatic. I made myself crystal clear, both yesterday and today, you do not deserve my time, Tom Holland.”

“Y/N-” 

“I truly wish you all the best and I hope you’re able to graduate, despite having less brain cells than a cantaloupe.” You felt your words sting him, but you didn’t care. He was disrespectful, he deserved it, you told yourself. 

“Y/N.” He said, his voice cracking. He took a deep breath. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry.” This was not what you were expecting from him. 

He sighed, sitting on his chair. You cautiously leaned against the table behind you, looking at a boy close to tears. 

“What are you sorry for?” 

“I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. I’m sorry for being late to our meeting, and I’m sorry for showing up drunk.” 

“Tell me why.” 

“I’m sorry?” He asked. 

“Tell me why you’re late and why you’re drunk and I’ll consider helping you.” He looked at the ground again. 

“Any chance I can get a shot first?” He jokingly said. 

“You are already pushing your luck, Holland, do you really want to make it worse?” 

“Fine, I’m sorry. I was late and drunk because I was embarrassed.” You raised your eyebrows. “To be honest, I knew who I was looking for yesterday. I hit on you to break the tension.” 

“Why were you embarrassed? And, wait, you knew who I was?” 

“I looked up your instagram before we met so I’d know who to look for, and I hit on you because I didn’t want you to help me.” 

“And why were you embarrassed?” He started playing with the cuff of his sleeve, still not looking at you. “Tom.” You said, getting him to finally look at you. 

“I was embarrassed because I’m flunking out of school and need a tutor, and my tutor asked me to meet in the most intense place on campus.”

“The hlab? Intense?”

“Y/N, you need to be, like, a genius to even be considered for this program. And here I am, a theater major who can’t even pass a class about the stars.” 

“Astronomy is about a lot more than stars, if you bothered to open your textbook, you’d know that.” He stared at you, and you noticed tears coming to his eyes. 

“I can’t be tutored. I can’t. I’ll figure something else out.” He hastily grabbed his backpack and prepared to walk out the door, but you grabbed his backpack, turning him around. 

“Stop. Open your backpack.” He looked at you, confused, but obliged, holding the backpack open in front of you. You looked through it, noticing five notebooks, and a folder. You pulled it out, riffled through, and saw a schedule along with five syllabi. You nodded and looked back at him. 

“The list?” You asked. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to you. It had the list of assignments you asked for. You nodded again. 

“You need to be making a list like this every friday for the upcoming week, got it?” He nodded and then zipped his backpack, turning back to the door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked, your arms folded. 

“Home?” He asked. 

“Nope. Sit.” 

“You mean…?” “You were disrespectful. I will not forgive you for that, but as your tutor, it’s my job to help you, no matter how stupid you act. And to be clear, I was not calling your intelligence stupid. I was referring to the fact that you already broke a rule, and of course, the unspoken rule of not showing up to sessions drunk.” He slid into the seat across from you and pulled out notebooks and pencils as you analyzed the list. 

“Have you done any readings this week?” He shook his head. “When you’re in class, do you feel like the teacher is speaking another language and all the other students understand it but you?” “Yeah, how-”

“Look, Tom, I’m gonna share with you the biggest college hack there is. All lectures are is the professor talking about the reading and helping you to understand the material. You cannot possibly understand the lecture without doing the readings. Once you start reading, the lectures will make sense, even if you don’t understand the readings the first time you read them. Make sense?”

“Well, you said read a lot…” You raised your eyebrows. “No, no, that makes sense.”

“When you go to class this week, you need to be taking notes by hand. Statistically you’re much more likely to absorb the material that way, especially without the added distraction that is the internet.” He nodded. 

“Last but certainly not least, we cannot start our work until you’ve done the readings. So I will see you Friday evening for a session, we’ll review the material of that week making sure you understand it, you’ll complete your homework on Saturday, and we’ll meet again Sunday night to review the homework before you hand it in. If need be, we can meet for a weekday session.” 

He raised his eyebrows. 

“Don’t question my methods. You are one more C- away from being kicked out of college. You like it here? Don’t wanna go back to the freezing rain in London? You’ll listen to me.” You packed your bag and Tom started to follow suit. 

“Nope.” You said, placing a hand on the notebook he was about to put in his bag. “You’ll stay here and do your readings for the rest of the week. No matter how long it takes.” “But this is-” “Hlab? I’m aware, but I guess you haven’t noticed that literally no one is here. No one is going to be mad that you’re here. Just sit and read.” 

“Y/N?” He called as you walked towards the door. “I’m really sorry.” 

“I don’t like apologies, Tom. Stop apologizing, stop being embarrassed, and do better.” 

You returned to your room, lying on your bed and opening back up your textbook, but not before texting your friends. 

♡girly girls♡

You

just got back

Iz

howd it go???

You 

he showed up 45 minutes late, drunk 

Al

so where are we meeting to bury his dead body?

You

very funny, Al

Al

i wasnt joking. 

Em

wait he was drunk? on a monday? typical 

Iz

so i guess you wont be seeing him again? 

You were conflicted. You shared everything in your friends, but Tom was vulnerable with you and you didn’t want to betray his trust. 

You 

look we talked about it and he explained himself. im giving him one more chance.

Iz

seriously? im shook

You

whatever he made a good case

Em

i think you just wanna sleep with him

You

i dont i promise you thats the last thing i wanna do

Al

ive got 10 bucks they hook up before march 1st. anyone wanna take the over? 

Iz

ill take that action, Y/N is stubborn as hell

You

you guys are the absolute worst. see you for lunch xox

It wasn’t long before you dozed off. Your alarm woke you up the next morning, your textbook still lying across your chest. You already had a few texts from your friends. 

♡girly girls♡

Em

al i just saw that cute girl with the purple hair u like

Al

shut up em i dont like her

Iz

is she the one whose asm for romeo and juliet???

Em 

thats the one! 

Al

guys ! leave it, ok? shes straight

You

with that hair? i doubt it

You checked the rest of your messages, surprised to see a blue bubble next to Tom’s name. 

Tom Holland

hey sorry but i dont think this is gonna work, sorry for waisting your time, ill tell gronsky to find me another tutor

You were shocked, quickly sending a text message to your group chat. 

Em

i thought you said everything was gucci ?

You

i thought it was….

Iz

pls text him back 

You rolled your eyes, realizing Isabelle was right. 

You

Stop being ridiculous. you misspelled “wasting”. dont forget handwritten notes in class today. ill see you friday.

He responded almost immediately. 

Tom Holland

I wasnt dicking around. rlly. this isnt gonna work. i already emailed gronk.

You sent an updated screenshot to your group chat, rolling your eyes, right as an email alert popped up to the top of your screen. 

TO: y/email@school.edu

FROM: gronsky@school.edu

SUBJECT: Thomas tutoring

Hi kiddo,

Not sure if this is a mistake but Thomas just emailed me saying you would no longer be tutoring him? I thought you would be a good match for him… Take the rest of the week, talk to him, if he still doesn’t want you as his tutor let me know by Friday so I can try to find someone new to tutor him. 

I know he can be challenging, but I’m sure you realize that’s exactly why I picked you. ;) (and also because no one else agreed to work with him)

G

You sighed. Of course. Typical G, giving you all the basket cases and expecting you to fix them. It was true, you never backed down from a challenge, but this one may not be for you. 

You looked at your phone and pulled out Tom’s schedule from your backpack. He was finished with statistics in a half hour, just enough time for you to get ready and go to the math and science building. 

You made it there with just a few minutes to spare. You stood outside the room, back against the wall, popping your bubble gum and waiting. The class let out, mostly sophomores giddily running off to lunch, obviously relieved to be done with class. 

Tom was one of the last ones to leave the classroom, and as soon as he saw you he rolled his eyes. 

“Hi Max,” you greeted Max who was walking next to him. 

“Y/N,” he said with a smile. 

“Are you TAing?” You asked, still completely ignoring Tom who was fidgeting in front of you.

“You know it.” 

“Mind if I steal Tom?” 

“No problem, see you at home dude,” he said and they did a stupid handshake. 

“Walk me to lunch.” You said and started to walk towards the door. “That wasn’t a question, Thomas.” You said when you saw that he wasn’t following you. He quickly caught up to you, but not before you overheard a groan. 

“Has anyone ever told you you are incredibly difficult?” He asked. You laughed, which surprised him. 

“That really doesn’t bother me.” 

“You can’t boss me around anymore, you’re not my tutor.” 

“See that’s where you’re wrong. I am your tutor, therefore I can boss you around.” 

“I fired you.” 

“Good thing I don’t work for you, then.” He sighed. 

“Y/N.” He said and stopped in the middle of the walkway. 

“Thomas.” You said in the same tone. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“A little bird who may or may not be Gronk told me that no one else would tutor you. So I am very sorry Mr. frat boy, but it looks like you’re stuck with me.” You turned and continued walking. 

“Seriously?” He said as he fell into step with you again. “Pity?” 

“Stop being difficult.” You said, smiling as you used his words against him. 

“Whatever. I’ll give you a week before you give up.” You laughed. 

“I don’t quit, Holland. I’m incredibly competitive and you will not win this fight.” He looked unhappy, but held the door to the dining hall for you. 

You approached your usual table, Tom following close behind. You turned to him before taking your usual seat. 

“I know you didn’t finish your readings last night. Go find a place to finish them. Take good notes. I’ll see you Friday at 4, if you’re late, there’s gonna be a problem.” He simply nodded and walked away, greeting some friends he knew in the cafeteria. 

You turned to your friends, all of whom were suspiciously quiet. 

“So…” Isabelle said, finally breaking the tension. “I guess you’re still tutoring him?” 

[zhenyakatava]

[last goodbye]

hello and welcome to the Most Extra Request Ever™. welcome. pls strap in! this request is for a cohort of people that (mostly) graduated from magnolia high in the class of 2011, and who are all interconnected through recently-deceased sam friar. as it often goes in small towns, kids who spent their whole lives being around each other tend to part ways at graduation and never see each other again. in this group’s case, they have no choice but to come back together for better or worse, and it’s done a great job at pointing out any cracks that still remain from years ago.

if you want to look at the chart above, pink = romantic / green = friendly / red = antagonistic / purple = familial. each character has a p...retty extensive blurb with lots of connections so we can try and ensure connections and interaction, but i think it’s rly important that everyone knows that these were relationships in high school (for the most part) and definitely don’t have to represent current relationships unless specified (like people who dated in high school don’t have to be dating now, people could have gone away even if it doesn’t specify, etc etc). also!! there will obviously be more connections made, i just could only put so much into graphic and writing before it got to be Too Much!

if you’re interested in a spot pls reply to this or message me or send me a lil msg on discord (morg#3278). xoxo bless

G1 - loren friar, 23, kat mcnamara (played by morgan)

G2 - graziella zavala, rafa constentino (played by betty)

G3 - heidi hope, 24, danielle campbell (played by maddie)

G4 - teddy townsend, 24, zoey deutch (played by suki)

B1 - noah foster, 24, quenten a (played by nicole)

B2 - first last, age, charlie rowe (played by liv)

B3 - micah friar, 24, carter jenkins (played by nick)

B4 - first last, age, face (played by emily)

samson friar (deceased): brilliant but lazy

sam grew up as the kid who acted out, who threw fits in class and got into fights on the playground. not many people really knew how hard sam had it, with strict evangelical parents who took all their frustrations out on him. at the end of the day, after using most of his time and energy being the protective big brother for twin boy 3 and little sister girl 1, he didn’t have much left for school. even though he’d always been smart, brimming with potential, he fought forces both external and internal - including only later-diagnosed borderline personality disorder - on his short-lived path to success. as he got older, the bad boy persona he’d acquired by acting out stuck hard and he rolled with it. he had his siblings and best friends since childhood, boy 4 and girl 3, to fall back on. their ragtag bunch got a pretty gnarly name for themselves, skipping class to smoke and throwing parties in abandoned houses. no one ever expected sam to start dating girl 4, universally known to be an uptight prude bitch. something clicked between them, and even though girl 3’s longstanding crush stood in the way of their relationship, it flourished regardless. for a while, she influenced him for the better. he shaped up, got his grades up, even made plans for college. that phase of their relationship was clearly a manic one, since those dreams died quickly. the romance was intensely passionate but also toxic, and despite the animosity she held for him for convincing her to stay local for school to be together and the personal struggles he faced, they refused to break up. in fact, they even decided to get married. about six months before his death, on the heels of the discovery that girl 4 had fallen pregnant, they got engaged. despite the romantic gesture, it couldn’t save their relationship or stop fate from intervening. when girl 4 miscarried, sam went off the rails. a minor drug habit that was once recreational became much more, and not long ago he ended up overdosing, leaving the carnage of family, friends, and lovers behind.

girl 1 (22-24): baby bookworm

sam and boy 3’s little sister, girl 1 was always tagging along with them. she never really fit in with people her age, never really fit in with people her brothers’ ages, so she was often left feeling isolated from everyone. this meant she often retreated into herself, not pursuing academics because of passion but instead because it was all she really had, one constant she could point to that would always be there. she hadn’t realized that perhaps some of the turmoil she felt came from her repressed sexuality until one night, after a party her brothers had begrudgingly let her go to, girl 2 kissed her. she’d never felt a crush like that before and never thought it would be with another girl. when boy 1 moved to magnolia, the two outcasts got along very quickly, becoming best friends and hanging out every single day. understandably, girl 1 was crushed when she found out that girl 2 had taken a liking to him and, apparently, the feelings were reciprocated. caught between her friendship and the protection of an almost-relationship she couldn’t even admit to, she decided to cut off the friendship with boy 1. just before her brother’s death, she finally gave in to boy 4, her brother’s best friend’s long-standing crush, and it’s not that she doesn’t like him, or that she doesn’t like boys, but that she still sees girl 2 at the grocery store and wonders whether it meant as much to girl 2 as it did to her. there’s also the strange fact that, when she looks at boy 4, she gets subtle reminders of her brother that make his loss easier, and isn’t it close enough to love that they’ve gotten each other through this?

girl 2 (24-25): prom queen

never the smartest in the bunch, girl 2 had to rely on street smarts, common sense and good looks to get along. clever in her own way, she was always particularly attuned to people - how to make them tick, how to get what she wanted, how to make connections like no other. maybe that’s why she was always flitting from guy to guy - though girl 1 would certainly say otherwise. she went from one bad relationship to another in high school, trying to find something in a guy that she couldn’t find on her own. after an ugly breakup with her long-term boyfriend, boy 2, that ended in absolute chaos, she was surprised to find herself interested in the unassuming new boy, boy 1. her friends, including part-time friend and part-time enemy girl 4, were surprised that she’d go for a nice guy - but she knew she needed a change of pace. getting girl 1 to leave her alone in the process was just an added perk - i mean, she was never gay or anything, just curious, and was that so wrong?

suggested faces: nicola peltz, cierra ramirez, camila mendes, madelaine petsch, taylor hill, halston sage, sofia carson, natalie alen lind, virginia gardner

girl 3 (24-25): bad genes

girl 3 was hardly given a fighting chance by the Powers That Be. her drug-addicted parents abandoned her early, leaving her with her not-much-better relatives, a revolving door of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and the like. it was no wonder she started hanging out with fellow garbage kids, boy 4 and sam. it was a surprise to her, though, that she found herself head over heels in love with sam. the feeling was never returned, really, outside of a few awkward kisses or fondling when he was off with girl 4. everyone was always asking why she didn’t just date boy 3, but the girl was perpetually oblivious to his advances because she was always focused intently on sam. at least she thought she was - but his death proved otherwise. she had actually thought things were looking up, and had been given renewed hope for her repressed love after they slept together one night. when he overdosed despite everything she’d done and everything she felt, girl 3 blamed herself more than anyone. the only thing keeping her from going off the rails (just like her one-time true love) is boy 3, and she’s starting to see what everyone was always talking about when they insisted she choose him instead.

girl 4 (24-25): academic alpha bitch

how do you not crack under the pressure when the weight of the world is on your shoulders? girl 4 was always so good at that, not without the help of anti-anxiety meds and meticulous journaling, always keeping up appearances to be the good, smart, promising girl everyone expected her to be. sam was her break from that, something that shocked absolutely everyone. she was too good, too smart, and had too much potential to be with someone like that. really, though, he was the only thing that made her feel anything but anxiety or anger. she made enemies everywhere she went, seeing everyone as a competitor, from her so-called best friend girl 2 to sam’s best friend girl 3 to her class president opponent, boy 2. sam was always her ally, no matter what, even if they fought. everyone blamed it on him, but she made mistakes too - namely, sleeping with boy 2 after a particularly bad fight. in truth, she wasn’t even sure whose baby it was, but either way she was relieved in a way when she miscarried. sam… not so much. she watched his downward spiral but didn’t have the tools to stop it as he froze her out and distanced himself further and further away from her - and, as she saw it, toward girl 3. girl 4 was the one to find him, and it’s a memory she could never forget, something that makes her regret the relief she felt not to be inextricably linked to him. grief-stricken as she is, how can she not see this as a fresh start?

suggested faces: willa fitzgerald, haley lu richardson, naomi scott, jessica sula, saoirse ronan, olivia cooke, zoey deutch, alycia debnam carey, camila mendes, halston sage, daisy ridley, logan browning

boy 1 (23-24): foreign exchange student

texas was nothing like where boy 1 came from. when he transferred to magnolia high, he didn’t know up from down or this from that. he was helpless - and girl 1 helped him. he developed a crush on her quickly, warming to her southern drawl and the way she talked when she got excited about something she was telling him about. at the same time, he started getting closer and closer to his mentor, the girl who was assigned to help him get acclimated to his new home and his new school: girl 2. it was strange to him that, when he became friends with girl 2, girl 1 stopped sitting next to him in economics, stopped eating with him at lunch, stopped answering his texts or calls. he didn’t see the correlation until later, when girl 2 made tasteless a joke about girl 1 being a lesbian. he had to adapt, either sink or swim in the high school environment he found himself in, and being with girl 2 meant swimming - and anyway, girl 1 clearly wasn’t interested anyway. 

suggested faces: timothee chalamet, tom holland, john boyega, noah centineo, xavier serrano, avan jogia, keiynan lonsdale, nick robinson, tye sheridan

boy 2 (24-25): big man on campus

boy 2 had everything he needed to succeed in life. his family had money in oil, he was exceedingly smart, he was good at sports and great with the ladies. he had everything going for him - well, almost everything. the only thing standing between him and success was a little temper that found him getting into fights on the football field or getting into screaming matches with his ex-girlfriend girl 2 in the middle of the hallway at school. he just needed something to channel all that energy into, so he signed up to run for class president, a good old fashioned competition that he could put some positive energy into. he never expected it to be such a tough battle, and much less expected to get into it with girl 4. perpetual rivals in school, their rivalry came to a head during the presidential election. she won, but he developed a fascination with her and a hatred for her garbage boyfriend, sam. he went off for college, but she never really left his mind. he came back recently after losing his job (he says he resigned, but that’s twisted the whole truth a little) and met girl 4 in a bar, and he thought their getting together would be a good thing for them - he could give her everything sam couldn’t, everything she needed and deserved. turns out he was just a distraction, and he told himself he’d draw a line. the line has been drawn even further since sam’s death, since boy 2 definitely doesn’t want to get involved with a dead guy’s fiancee. still, he can’t help but wish she’d reach out…

suggested faces: keith powers, dacre montgomery, ansel elgort, jacob elordi, matt noszka, carter jenkins, thomas doherty, gregg sulkin, logan shroyer

boy 3 (24-25): the unassuming one

boy 3 always felt positively boring, not good or bad but somewhere plainly in the middle. his twin brother sam was always getting the attention - mostly negative, but boy 3 quickly became a firm believer in life that all attention is good attention. he was always grateful for the protection he got, for himself and for little sister girl 1, but at the same time was resentful of his brother for his notoriety. they shared everything, like best friend boy 4, and everything else went automatically to sam. sam never respected what he wanted to do or who he wanted to see, including girl 3. sam always knew that he liked her, and yet sam used her crush on him to his advantage at any possible time. as close as they always had been, the resentment was too much for boy 3 to handle and, when he got the chance, he decided to go off and backpack across europe to find himself before going to college across the country. he’s back now for the funeral, and while he know better who he is now, he can’t help but hate himself a little for driving a wedge between himself and his other half. he’s falling into old habits now, trying to reconnect with the person he used to be in any way he can - like how he’s fallen back in with girl 3. now, he can’t tell whether this is growth, or if he’s just regressing back to his lesser self.

suggested faces: logan lerman, joe keery, nat wolff, cole sprouse, carter jenkins

boy 4 (24-25): class clown

no one ever took boy 4 seriously. he was always sort of dumb, this caricature of a class clown that had nothing else to offer. after a while, he sort of saw himself as that, too. he moved in a pack with boy 3 and sam, cracking jokes whenever he could and coasting along until high school would finally end. he spent so much of his young life hanging out with the twins that he became well acquainted with girl 1, their little sister. the boys had their own things, girlfriends and schoolwork and everything, and as they got older and boy 4 found himself devoid of any real passion, he spent a lot of idle time with her, learning from her and maybe, secretly, falling in love with her. he always knew how protective sam was of her, though, and as fiercely loyal as he was, he would never sacrifice their friendship for anyone - not even someone as amazing as her. sam dying was the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life, and if being around girl 1 is mutually beneficial, wouldn’t sam be okay with that? he has to tell himself yes, otherwise the guilt would overtake him and he can’t deal with that on top of everything.