#couldn’t get her to sit down so I gave her my notebook and she kept busy until after we were done praying

[apricotluvr]

May 2023 ☕️🕌🍃🍿🍓🗒

[hearts4chriss]

Under the table.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒.

Bad boy!Chris + good girl!Black fem shy nerd

Prompt: midway through ur English lecture Chris goes under ur desk while the teacher or nobody can see

Part 02

A/n- VERY REQUESTED!! Pt 3 is also done !! And not proof read

Contains: dirty talking, use of pet names, public sex, chris is munchin, creampie, suggestive touching, embarassed!reader.

ever since Chris and I had sex, things were, well obviously different.

It felt kinda nice having a guy as good looking as him giving me attention despite how wrong it was.

For some reason I felt safe with him, like he wouldn’t let anyone bully me or make fun of me anymore, it was kinda comforting.

Chris pov

Since we had sex, I felt so attached to her like a fucking idiot.

I don’t regret not one bit of it, but something inside me was- I couldn’t get enough of her.

I wanted to taste her, feel her. The way she looked up at me with those big eyes and swollen plump lips after I had ruined her made me yearn for more of her.

The way she felt around me, the way she moaned my name and how she screamed it when she would cum.

it wasn’t just that, she’s beautiful.

her cute little glasses that sit on her nose, her glossy lips and that sweet smile she always give me as she does now while I’m walking with her too our class

I kept her close to me, I wanted to keep her safe from all those things that could hurt her. She was precious I couldn’t bare the thought if someone tried to hurt her. I had to protect her.

we got top class and I held the door for her and gave her a small wink making her smile a bit letting her dimples peek through before my eyes wandered too her skirt.

she had on pink panties this time and I couldn’t resist myself. The way they were peeking through the bottom of her skirt made my dick pressing against my pants.

the way she sat down on the desk and i immediately followed quickly sitting next to her in the back so I could tease her some more.

soon enough class got started and I watched her pull out her pink notebook that said “𝐻𝒪𝒩𝒪𝒰𝑅𝒮 𝐸𝒩𝒢𝐿𝐼𝒮𝐻 ” in a darker pink and she opened it flipping through to find a clean page.

She saw me looking at her noticing I didn’t have a pencil or paper.

Do you need anything? I-I have extra..she said softly nearly making me melt but I tried to keep my composure from wanting to bury my head in between her thighs.

are you stuttering princess, I’m not THAT am I? I let out a small laugh rubbing my hand over her leg and her eyes widen.

No just- ugh here! She whines slightly embarrassed from my little pet name I’ve given her but I thought it was cute so she wasn’t gonna stop me, especially if I got reactions like this.

mhmm nice try tho. I kiss her cheek allowing a smile to curve on her lips.

then the lesson started and she began to take notes and I couldn’t take my eyes off her and how focused she was.

she would poke her tongue out, kinda how I would while she was concentrating, the way she’d push her glasses up occasionally just took me back to the night I fucked her so hard they came off her pretty face.

And her intelligence, the way she answered every question with such ease, then whenever I’d get called on she’d slide me a note with her tiny handwriting with the answer giving me a small smile squeezing my hand slightly.

she was so damn innocent but that only made me want her more.

I was snapped out my fantasies when she asked

May I use the bathroom! She raised her hand our teacher nodded and she got up and walked out the classroom and I was mesmerized by her thighs- fuck the way they look when she walks-

I sighed and peer at her seat next to me and realize, there’s a small wet spot and I smirked too myself.

I made her wet

the thought of that alone could make me cum, knowing I made this nerdy girl wet from only a few words and she tried too hide it was so adorable- never in life would I picture myself liking a girl like her but-

She came back 4 minutes later and sits down fixing her skirt.

you okay princess? I whisper against her neck and I watch her breath hitch.

What’s wrong? I say softly pretending to relax her nerves and dirty thoughts I knew she was having of me and I chuckled.

I slid one of my hands up her thigh resting it at the tip of where her skirt began.

Chris- w-were in class…she shudders shyly at my touch, as if she was begging me too touch her knowing how wrong it was and how fearful she was if she got caught.

and? why would that stop me from eating that pretty pussy of yours?

I Watch her squeeze her thighs together and adjust her glasses and I smirked knowing exactly what her little mind was thinking, though she’d never admit it

gonna be quiet for me? Let me eat you out in class? Make you cum all over my face baby hm? I whisper low enough because nobody was really paying attention too the teacher or us.

yes m’i’ll be quiet I promise- she whispers shaking her head.

Lower ur seat for me. I whisper crouching down under the desks enclosed by a small wall for backpack storage.

Her fingers attached too the lever and she does so moving towards the front of her chair giving me a perfect view of her panties.

I wasted no time knowing this already made her nervous enough, I thought it was cute how embarrassed she was. But she was needy. And I wasn’t gonna make her wait any longer.

I slid the panties down putting them into my pocket.

Her pussy was so fucking wet and it was all for me, I couldn’t wait to taste her.

It was right in front of me as she had positioned herself in the perfect angle, I left kisses on her thighs as a reminder she was my girl and nobody else was aloud to do this.

But her warmth was calling me, the same one I was just inside of only days ago.

I press my tongue to her wetness and she shrieks placing her hand over her mouth beginning to write with shaky hands

fuck- she tastes so good, that aroma id been craving was finally failing into my mouth, I slurped and sucked damn near the life out of this girl as she threw her legs around my head trying to maintain her volume.

her hand grasps my brunette hair slightly tugging on it and I look up seeing how she had one hand over he mouth whilst the other pulls my hair, knowing how flustered all of this made her I opt for sending her a wink before lapping up her wetness again.

I couldn’t get enough of it, she felt so good on my lips, it was so fucking perfect on my mouth, i couldn’t help myself from shaking my head in her pussy sticking my tongue out as her legs shook each time from overwhelming pleasure.

I spread her legs further apart making her groan but she quickly turned into a cough making me damn near burst out laughing.

I knew she was probably freaking out from this, and that made feel somewhat guilty but she was so hard to resist the way she sat in that chair her ass poking out a bit which I really fucking hated because I knew she did as well, but fuck it made me hard especially knowing it was only me who could make her feel so good.

It didn’t take long for her to release her warm cum all over my face, since this was the first she’d experienced this.

Fuck- I whisper to myself watch her juices drip onto the chair. I quickly stood up walking too a side table by the class door.

What’s on ur face Christopher? Look a little mess…the teacher questions and I chuckle and make up a lie quickly

Just ate something really good, and sweet and it had some cream inside so I got a little messy I apologize. I give the teacher a sly smile and she rolls her eyes at me and I wipe my face off and grab some extras for her.

I cleaned her up and saw how her legs shook a bit and how out of breath she was from this.

Her face looked a little embarrassed from my comment earlier but she had a small grin on her face one of enjoyment.

Are you okay princess? I wasn’t too much was I? I say slipping her panties back and she slowly slides them on as my hand rests on her back.

I’m- okay that was-wow-I don’t know I-i liked it a lot. She says shyly, lots of breath in between each word as she placed her head on the desk looking up at me with those big gorgeous eyes through her glasses and that’s when I realize something inside of me.

I couldn’t just have her for sex, or my own pleasure.

I wanted her to be my girl

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @alexosllurr @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 2)

Summary: The reader has agreed to go out with Dean for one date only but is pretty sure he's just a flirt looking to get in her pants. But Dean is more than he seems and may be the first person she can have a truly honest conversation with in a long time...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 7,600ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping, smut

A/N: I think I gave them too much trauma tbh...oh well!

_________

Eric rapped his knuckles on the doorframe of your home studio but didn’t do anything further to disturb you. You were absently plucking away on a guitar, something quiet and simple, your head spaced out as you listened to the notes over and over. You weren’t sure how it fit just yet but you liked the melody enough to jot it down in a notebook.

“That’s going to be a number one hit someday,” he said. You shrugged, setting the guitar to the side, closing your eyes. “You okay, kid?”

“The team says I’m behind on the next album. I don’t even have a single song,” you sighed. You felt him plop down on the couch beside you, your eyes peeling open, finding his stern ones looking back.

“The whole point of you ditching your first label and doing things through your team is so you’d be in control. You put out a fucking album in March. It’s September. When the hell were you supposed to be writings these songs? During the four hours of sleep a night you got while on tour the past six months?”

“Eric,” you shushed him, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m just venting. If I need you to kick someone’s ass I’ll let you know, alright?”

“Just don’t let them bully you,” he grumbled, getting to his feet. “You ready for this charity date shit?”

“I’ll happily take Dean’s ten million dollars for an hour of suffering. His fault he threw so many touchdowns last night,” you said, Eric pulling you up. “Is everything settled?”

“We rented out the restaurant. The only people inside will be the two of you, myself and his head of security. Apparently he’s famous enough he has his own protection agent, albeit he doesn’t tend to listen to them.” You saw a twinge of annoyance on his face but let it go, instead following him out and down the hall, Eric giving you a side eye. “Aren’t you going to get ready for your date?”

You slid past him and over to your front closet, shoving your feet into a pair of converse. “The man’s seen me in sweats and a hoodie. A Stones t-shirt and skinny jeans should be a step up for him.” 

You swiped your crossbody bag from the front table, Eric sighing. “Let’s get this over with.”

Thirty minutes later you were sitting at a curved booth in a nice italian restaurant. Ordinarily, you never would have rented out a whole place for just yourself. But you were pissed off at your team for trying to get you to capitalize off Dean wanting a date. He seemed like a genuine fan and you’d have a conversation with him for how much he’d donated to the charity. You’d had a long conversation with them last night, with some backup from Eric over it all.

Either they backed off or you’d find a new manager, agent, PR rep, all of it. You’d done it before when you were younger and you had no problem doing it again. 

Between you and Eric, you were pretty sure they were going to back off on the Dean front, at least for now.

You couldn’t help but stare when Dean came into view through the back of the restaurant. He was in a flannel and henley, dark jeans on his long legs. He smiled when he saw you but stopped short when Eric stepped in front of him. He said something you couldn’t hear, Dean flashing a wink that made Eric’s eye twitch. Dean kept approaching though, Eric now in a hushed argument with a woman in jeans and blazer that’d trailed in after Dean.

“Please don’t give my bodyguard an aneurysm. He already thinks you’re sketchy,” you said as Dean slid into the booth with a big grin.

“Oh he’ll warm up to me.” We both turned our heads at raised voices, Eric and Dean’s bodyguard going at it.

“Moron!” Eric shouted, your eyebrows raised. You didn’t have time to question his sudden lack of professionalism before she was shouting back he was a dickhead.

“Everything alright over there?” called Dean, Eric and the woman giving each other death glares before storming off to opposite sides of the restaurant. “Okay…well I’ve never seen Sloane act like that before.”

“Eric either. Weird.” You heard rustling and glanced at Dean, that silly smile still on his face. “You do understand I’m only here because you literally bought your way into a date.”

“True but I like giving to charity and if I get a date with the girl I’ve had a crush on since college, what’s the harm in that?” he teased. You crossed your arms, leaning back in your seat, his smile faltering. 

“Yeah see, that’s creepy. So talk about whatever it is you want to talk about and then we can go our separate ways, alright?” He was frowning now, keeping his hands under the table. There was an still beat. Not awkward but…sad almost. “Just-”

“You think I’m creepy?” he scoffed. You shrugged, Dean’s smile returning but laced with something mean. “Because I asked for a picture?”

“No-”

“Because I posted about going to a concert which fifty thousand other people did that same night?”

“That’s not-”

“Because I gave you my number? Was that my creepy offense? Because I’m surely the first man to-”

“Okay, you know what?” you said, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at his ridiculously pretty face. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. You might be famous but you aren’t my level of famous. Everywhere in the fucking world people know who I am. Pushy men that give their number and call you their crush and basically publicly shame you into going out with them for money? Yeah, that’s fucking creepy, Winchester.”

Surprisingly, he only sat back in his seat, breathing slowly. “I’m sorry then. Just let me say one thing and then I’ll get up and leave and you never have to talk to me again.”

You unfolded your arms, offering a small nod. Dean bit his bottom lip, letting it go slowly, his chest raising and falling softly.

“You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen when I walked into that house party my sophomore year. It was the second weekend of the semester and I’d just played my first game as quarterback. I was the backup for our school you know. I was supposed to ride the bench but Dallas got hurt…” he trailed off as you stared at him. “Doesn’t matter. But I remember that party and I remember hearing you singing along to a guitar outside by the fire pit. You uh, you had your hair in a messy bun just like it is right now. You were wearing a Kansas hoodie that was way too big for you and you had on these nike sweatpants and obnoxious orange sneakers like you didn’t give a fuck how you looked. You had no idea how stunning you were.”

You glanced down. You remembered those sneakers. You’d only worn them a few times before your roommate accidentally lost them. 

“Your voice was beautiful. It still is but I’m a little sad you never do anything acoustic like you would back then. Still doesn’t matter,” he said, pausing a beat. “This isn’t a brag but girls threw themselves at me at that party. Every day after that game they did. But the only girl I wanted to get to know, wouldn’t say more than hi because I was a jock. And it took a long time for me to understand why but I do. Because I hate myself too.”

You flicked your gaze up and met his, green eyes boring into yours. You parted your lips but no words came, Dean nodding, a sad smile on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault. Your volleyball practice ran late. Your brother wasn’t your fault.” You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced away. “You hated sports after that. I read an interview that you thought sports were silly once. But I understand why. You don’t hate sports. You hate what they did to you and back then, every student athlete was just a guy that could hurt you or worse, he could get hurt too. I understand hating yourself. I was supposed to be there for my brother too but I stayed at school and fucked it all up. So I get why in college you wouldn’t give me the time of day when all I wanted was one date with the girl that made my heart skip.”

Fingers grazed your chin, cupping it gently as he forced your head up. 

“But I am not creepy for you still making my heart skip and wanting a date. We’re not kids anymore, Y/N. You don’t like me then fine, but give me a chance. Don’t push me out because I’m still a guy who plays sports.”

You gently pushed his hand away, Dean sighing. “Maybe you have a point about the kinds of guys I found attractive in college. The crush isn’t what’s…” You squeezed your eyes shut. “You have had a lot of girlfriends Dean and I mean a lot. You have a new girl every week. It’s clear we are two very different kinds of people. You hookup. I don’t. I’m like a conquest or some shit because you couldn’t get me in college. That’s why we’re not talking after this…whatever the hell this is, again.”

Dean cocked his head, eyes roaming over your body. “So you won’t go out with me because you think I only want to fuck you?”

“Am I wrong?” you asked. He chuckled, his face more lively.

“Sweetheart, I’ll admit, I’d enjoy doing a lot of things with you,” he grinned. “But…I’ll make you a promise. I won’t do anything with you, won’t even fucking kiss you, until you want me to.”

“You realized what you’ve described is friendship?” He shrugged.

“We can call it that if you prefer.” You were still under his careful watch, Dean leaning forward. “But know that when you do eventually fall in love with me I’m so going to rub your face in it.”

“And there’s the cocky flirt,” you said, nodding to yourself.

“Just stating facts,” he said, flashing you a wink as he tucked his hands behind his head. You rolled your eyes, Dean enjoying this far too much. “So-”

“Here’s how this works,” you said, grabbing a menu and sliding it over to him.

“Love a woman in charge,” he teased. You growled, his eyebrows shooting up. “Oh, the princess of pop has a temper. I think I like this sassy side.”

“We eat lunch and we try to be friends,” you said ignoring him. “Anything beyond that is yet to be determined. Are we clear?”

“Oh absolutely,” he grinned. You groaned, gripping your own menu tight. “You’re too fun to tease. I’m only going to keep doing it.”

“Keep it up and see how far that gets you, Winchester,” you grumbled. He stood abruptly, your eyes widening as he slid in next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “What are-”

Hot breath fanned over your ear as you felt rumbling in your chest from his deep laugh. “Sweetheart, I’ll stop teasing the day you stop blushing when I do it.”

You turned your head, Dean’s merely a few inches from your own. He looked fucking cocky and sexy with that know it all smile. 

You hated that you were having more fun with his flirting than you had with a guy in a long time.

“Plus we both got that whole older sibling trauma, insane career pressure thing going on. I mean, match made in heaven right here,” he said, booping your nose. “Fuck, how are you hot and cute at the same time? No wonder the whole world loves you.”

You didn’t mean to but your eyes welled up with tears, Dean instantly pulling his arm back. You shook your head, wiping your face off with the back of your hand. “It’s not you. It’s just…that’s the second time you’ve brought up the thing we’re not…talking about. You know, our brothers. Do you…want to talk about it?”

Dean nodded. “After lunch…and somewhere private if that’s okay.”

“I can agree to that, even if our bodyguards won’t.”

“His house?” groaned Eric thirty minutes later. “His house, Y/N? You don’t know-”

“I don’t but you’ll be there and he needs to talk to someone about his brother and maybe I need a friend that’s not you that I can too. I’ve already made it clear to him that he and I are strictly friends.” Eric mumbled something but relented, the driver following after Dean’s SUV and to his home, only a short drive from your own.

Dean was waiting by the front door when you got out of the SUV, smiling as he opened it up. Eric went straight for Sloane who was nearby, the two of them bickering like cats and dogs, Dean shutting the door after them.

“Those two must have history,” he said, showing you down a front hall and through the middle of his open kitchen and living room, straight through a back door to a patio. You swore you could hear them arguing as you took a seat on an outdoor couch under an umbrella.

“I don’t think Eric’s dated since high school. Maybe they knew each other in the military or something,” you said, Dean humming.

“Could be. Sloane’s pretty much on her own too aside from the occasional hookup,” he said, sitting nearby on the couch. The air was quiet for a few moments as you took in Dean’s backyard, fairly quaint for LA standards, especially NFL quarterback standards.

“Whatever happened with you and Sam, it wasn’t your fault either.” He smiled, titling his head.

“I was supposed to go home that weekend and hangout with him. I was too damn hungover to though so I didn’t. If I’d gone home he wouldn’t have been walking home at night by himself. It wouldn’t have happened to him so it is my fault.”

You closed your eyes. “Well, I was late picking up Max and he walked home at night too so either we were both at fault or neither one of us was.”

“You were late from practice. Your coach made you late, not-”

“We were late because I got to practice late because I was making out with our fucking quarterback in the art room.” You felt him shift closer, arm around your shoulders as you forced yourself to look at him. “I didn’t hate athletes, Dean. I hated that because I was too busy kissing one, my little brother’s life was ruined. We’re old enough to know that it could have happened at any time, whether we were there or not.”

“I know,” he said quietly. You tentatively wrapped your arms around his waist, Dean smiling. “I never knew anyone else that had someone taken from them.”

“Me either. I mean I’ve met some through the charity but no one that knows…” 

“The world thinks you’re perfect because you’re good at your job and you smile for a camera.” You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “My friend Benny said you talked to him in english about Sammy.”

“I remember him. He was cute,” you said, Dean growling. “Someone jealous?”

“I’m the one pining after you, remember?” He laughed quietly, his long fingers brushing against your exposed arm. “He didn’t tell me until yesterday. I was on edge a lot back then. Even now Sam’s a touchy subject.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He shook his head. 

“You’re different. You know how hopeless it feels, what it’s like to have a funeral without a body, without knowing for sure.” You hummed, giving him a gentle hug.

“From our parents perspective, I understand why. We know the statistics and after so many years missing, so many experts telling them their kid is gone-”

“They needed to try to move on,” he finished. His fingers stilled on your skin, his body tense. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to. Not without knowing for sure.”

You smiled, turning your head to meet his own worried eyes. “Me either. Guess we have that unhealthy trait in common.”

“I don’t think we’re doing too bad for ourselves all things considered.” You stood up, taking a few steps away before turning on your heels. Dean’s face was neutral as you crossed your arms. “You don’t like me, do you.”

“I think…” you trailed off, trying to word this nicely. “I think all we have in common is we went to the same college and both have little brothers that were kidnapped. I am open to being friends, Dean. I am. But I don’t think what you want to happen here-”

“You’re wrong.” You frowned as he rose from his seat, stalking over slowly, eyeing you in a way that made you feel very warm all of a sudden. He didn’t stop until he was by your side, staring you down. “I can ignore the blushing, ignore how the second we’re in private you are holding onto me like we’ve known each other more than an hour. I can even ignore how you look at me with those big eyes and pouty lips like you want to climb me like a fucking tree.”

“That is not true.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting it up as he brought his face close, warm breath fawning over your face. “I don’t like you like that.”

“Yes you do and that scares you. I fuck away my fear of intamacy and you hide from it. That’s our problem, isn’t it. You and I hide differently. Well I’m done hiding and girl, you need to be done too. Don’t you get that we are safe for each other? I get that you are going to be nervous about this and you get that I’m not a tool. We can learn together, learn something that is not easy for anyone but especially people like us that have everything so damn publicized. Most of all we can trust each other unlike the rest of the world. We won’t hurt each other and you know it. You just won’t admit it. You won’t let yourself care for someone that isn’t capable of defending themselves. Why do you think your bodyguard is your best friend? You have got to give us-”

“Good god you never shut up,” you said, reaching up and grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Dean’s lips were instantly moving against yours, not taking ownership of the kiss but giving as much pressure as you were giving.

Hands cupped your cheeks, holding you steady as he smiled, teasingly dipping his tongue inside the dark cavern of your mouth. Dean pulled away much too soon, green orbs staring down, the heat in them cutting right through your core.

“I strike a nerve, sweetheart?” he teased. You scoffed, Dean tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. “Or does my armchair psychology just turn you on?”

“I was simply trying to get you to shut up.” 

“Oh. Well feel free to shut me up anytime you like.” You growled, Dean cupping your chin and pecking a softer kiss on you. You rose up on your tiptoes, Dean shushing you. “S’okay to admit you like traumatized cocky guys, princess.”

“You are insufferable,” you said, Dean smirking while you poked him in the ribs. “I never said I like you, Winchester.”

“Right,” he said, taking your hand and tugging you along after him. “Well come pretend to hate my company before I have to head to afternoon practice.”

“Insufferable.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Dean POV

“Hey,” I said late that night, answering my phone when I saw Y/N was calling. “You miss me already, sweetheart?”

“As if,” scoffed Y/N, quiet for a moment. “How was your practice?”

“Alright. How-”

“Just alright?” she interrupted. I raised my eyebrow, even if I was alone in my kitchen. Unlike Y/N, Sloane was the extent of my security team. Between her and myself, we had things covered. Sure, I was famous but it was different than being a pop star. I went to games that had security, a practice facility that had security, sets for commercials where they always had security. My home was in a gated community. The only reason Sloane was even on the payroll was peace of mind for my parents. She didn’t even go anywhere with me unless I asked.

“It was fine. Why?” I asked, Y/N going quiet again.

“Maybe I’m crazy but people that are in relationships generally ask how each other’s day went.” I closed my eyes, biting back a groan. “It’s already past eight. I should go.”

“Y/N-” The phone beeped, a glance down showing the call had ended. “Fuck me.”

I dialed her back, the phone picking up on the fourth ring, Y/N staying silent.

“Don’t hang up on me again.” She sighed softly, my stomach forming a knot. “Y/N…”

“I don’t think this is a good idea. We both have crazy schedules and-” 

“I told you earlier you don’t have to be scared of me. I know that’s what this is. You want to get to know me. Why else would you call? But you want an out too. Well I’m not giving it to you so suck it up cause you’re stuck with me. Understand?”

The line was quiet before I heard a bed creak, followed by a thick swallow. “I never said I’d date you, Dean.”

“Well we are so get used to it.” She mumbled something I couldn’t make out, my stomach still sour. “I will not hurt you, Y/N. That’s a promise.”

“You went out with forty two different women so far this year. Forty two. You spend every weekend fucking a new woman while I…” she trailed off, her voice still to thick for my liking. Was she crying? Fighting back tears? 

“What’s wrong, princess?” I asked gently, her voice hiccuping. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m sorry Dean but I’m clearly not mature enough for any kind of relationship with you. Please forget this happened.” She hung up again, my stomach fully twisted up. 

I was not going to let her fear stop her from living her damn life. I texted Sloane and two minutes later I was calling a different number, swallowing down my nerves.

“Dean Winchester,” said Eric, Y/N’s more than intimidating bodyguard. “Why the fuck are you calling me?”

“I need to know where Y/N lives. I want to go over and check on her.” 

“What the fuck do you mean check on her?” he snapped, a loud scrape in the background like a chair falling over.

“She’s fine! She’s fine,” I said, Eric’s loud growl making my ear hurt. “She’s upset is all and-”

“Let me guess. You made her upset?” I swallowed. 

“Not on purpose. I-” 

“What did I say to you at the restaurant? What the fuck did I say to you?” he grit out. I sighed as I went to my front door and slipped on a pair of sneakers. “I said if you hurt her, I’d fucking make your life hell. And what did you do? Sounds like you fucking hurt her. You understand why the fuck I wouldn’t tell you where she lives?”

“Eric, if you want to beat the shit out of me or bury me in the backyard or do whatever the hell you want to me, then fine. Go ahead. But she’s sitting in her house crying right now and this is something you can’t fix. So save my murder until after I can make her feel better, alright?”

“I’d rather shoot my own dick off than tell your slutty ass where she lives. I will check on her-”

I grabbed my keys off the front table and went outside, squeezing my phone tight. “Has she ever had a boyfriend?”

“Why the fuck-”

“Because you know as much as I have she hasn’t, not since Max was taken. She is scared of getting close to people and you know it. You’re the one person that’s been by her side since she got famous, aren’t you? I am asking you as someone that cares about her, as people that both care about her, please tell me. I need to at least try and help her know she’s not a lost cause.”

“Why on earth would she think that?”

“Because I have the same head as her,” I said, slipping behind the wheel of my SUV. “Be at the house too, I don’t care. But let me try, man. Please.”

The line was quiet, my heart in my throat as the seconds passed by.

“9 Hunt Lane. She’s a three minute drive from your house. Tell the guard at the gate ‘Cherry Blossom’ and they’ll let you in.”

“Thank you,” I said, starting the car.

“If you fuck with her-”

“I know. You’ll cut my balls off or some shit,” I said, opening my gate and backing out.

“Oh that’d be the nicest thing I’d do to you.” I didn’t put it past him that it was the truth. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Don’t trust me, buddy?” I tried to joke but it came out forced. 

“I’m your fucking nightmare, not your buddy.” He hung up and I stared at the phone a moment.

“I would hate to know how you treat me if I wasn’t your favorite player,” I mumbled, taking off and in front of Y/N’s house before I knew it. I hadn’t realized we lived in the same neighborhood, just opposite sides. Her security guards at the gate were giving me a good side eye until I uttered the magic words. The next thing I knew, I was being let in the front door of the house by them, the thing closing tight after me, one of them locking it back up from the outside.

I kicked off my shoes and walked through the massive front hallway to the back of the house, looking all around but finding it dark. Until I glanced upstairs, a light coming from down the hallway. I quickly jogged upstairs, pausing halfway down the hall to a pair of double doors, one of them open.

“Y/N, it’s me Dean,” I called out so I didn’t frighten her. I could have sworn I still heard a sharp intake of air inside. “Eric gave me the secret password to get in. You’re going to have to tell me what cherry blossoms means some…”

My mouth snapped shut when I stepped into the room, Y/N wiping away at her eyes with the sleeves of an oversized hoodie. I frowned and walked in further, pulling away her hands from where she sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Oh sweetie.” My heart clenched at the site of her red, puffy eyes, at the dried tear tracks down her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m what’s wrong!” she growled, trying to push me away but my hands around her wrist stopping her in place. “You want me? Me? I’m a fucking disaster, Winchester.”

“If you’re one then so am I.” She shook her head as I knelt in front of her, Y/N looking over my head. “Talk to me, princess.”

“At least you’ve had relationships and fucked other people.” I stared up at her, a pair of harsh eyes looking down at me. “I’m thirty two years old and as far as I’ve ever gotten was a kiss. A kiss. Because all men want is my money or fame or to fuck the virgin. To screw the pop princess and further their own careers.”

“Y/N-”

“The second I care about someone and let my guard down, they’re gonna hurt me or worse. Someone’s gonna hurt them and I can’t do jack shit,” she shot out, her chest heaving as more tears flowed. She stared me down, shrugging. “I’m too hurt to believe that you don’t want me for me, that you won’t get hurt too. You will get hurt. People want to be with me and if you were, you’re just a target. A fucking bulls eye on your back for life. Either you fuck me over or someone fucks you over. That’s all there is. That’s it. So why the fuck would I sign up for that? Why would I-”

I leaned forward and tilted my head up, catching her lips briefly. I hated the taste of salt on them, of the way I could feel her body shake as she fought back even more tears. I pulled back slowly, keeping close, her big eyes watching me with so much fear but something else too.

Desire. Longing.

“Remember earlier when we said we both had to learn and we’d do that together? Well that’s what this is, princess. So you get scared and I’ll be here to remind you to, okay?” I whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. She looked so confused, watching as I wiped off her face with my hand. “I don’t give a fuck that you’re a virgin by the way. You deserve to choose how and when you want to love someone with your body and that’s your choice alone.”

Her bottom lip wobbled as she nodded, my thumb running over it.

“Don’t be afraid of me, baby,” I murmured, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear. “Tell me who hurt you so much to make you think you’re unlovable.”

Her eyes shimmered, gaze casting down. “He was my responsibility. I was supposed to protect him and…” She forced her head up, face scrunching up as I held her cheeks. “I’m going to fuck that up again. Whatever man I’m with, I’m going to let him down. I’m going to let my partner down again. And I’m too weak to stop it.”

“Hey, hey,” I said softly, waiting a beat until she was looking at me, bleary eyes, runny nose and and all. “I am your partner and you will not let me down. We will protect each other. That’s how it works.”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” she whispered, voice ragged. “The attention. The death threats. The creeps. The way people write letters and offer information on Max that are full of lies. You’re famous but it’s not like this. All of that will happen to you too. I can’t protect you from it, Dean. No one can.”

I touched my forehead to hers, shushing her when she shivered. “You’re right. It’d be another crazy ass level of infamy that I don’t know. And people will hate me for it. But they hate me already for losing games, for getting a flag, for not running when they don’t know the fucking plays. People will hate us for no reason no matter what we do. So why the hell wouldn’t I want to be happy with you while that’s happening?”

She sighed, gently taking hold of my hand. “I’m not the girl with the designer clothes and hair extensions and fake eye lashes with a smile everyone thinks I am. This is what I am behind closed doors, Dean. Why would you ever want this?”

“Because I fell for the girl who looked like a hot mess around a backyard campfire, the sweet one that valued her school work and gave the boys without the good looks attention because of what was in their heads. You have a charity to try and shut down trafficking rings. You have never said a bad thing about another celebrity when we know some of them deserve it. Don’t you know how good of a soul you have, princess? Scars and all, it’s the one I want.”

I ran my finger down the curve of her cheek, her free hand going to my shoulder, gripping it gently. 

“It’s so unfair,” she said, sliding her hand up to my face. “You’re only supposed to be a handsome cocky flirt. You’re not supposed to be sweet too.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I whispered as she tilted her head closer, her breath warm, a faint whiff of mint in the air. “I know you want me. So take me.”

Y/N’s eyes grew a sliver darker, nose jammed against my own. “You sure you want that?”

“I’m already yours.” She crashed her lips to mine, tugging on my hand. She wouldn’t let me breakaway as I rose to my feet, crawling onto the bed as she laid back. I yelped when her legs wrapped around my waist and she flipped me to the other side of the bed, her body straddling mine. She lowered her torso, dipping in a way that made my cock strain in my jeans, her face only inches from mine. “You sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I said I’ve never had sex. Never said I’d be innocent.” She said, pressing her lips to mine, a twinge of something in her face pulling her back after a second. “I’m not ready for that tonight.”

“That’s okay,” I reassured her because it completely was. She eased and brought her head down, kissing under my jaw and doing nothing to ease the twitch in my dick. 

“Your dick seems to have other plans,” she murmured. 

“Ignore him,” I said, cupping her face so she saw I was serious. “You are wildly unphased about the fact a cock is poking into the back of your thigh for someone who’s never even seen one you realize?”

“I’ve seen them, just not in person,” she said, eyes going to my lips. “And I wouldn’t say unphased is what I am…just don’t want to send the wrong impression.”

“Is it turning you on?” I asked carefully, Y/N nodding once. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Keep it to your hands,” she said quietly, before kissing me again. I let her run things, her slow wandering fingers quickly tugging in my hair as her kiss turned rougher. She gasped when I put my hands on her waist and squeezed, earning me one of her hands fisting my shirt. She was getting into it, her breath hitching for barely a moment as I slid a hand under the waistband of her sweats, under the cotton underwear.

Her hips rolled while my fingers made their way over her smooth mound and suddenly I was touching her slit, teasingly gracing the tip of one finger through her folds.

“Oh,” she said, when I brushed her clit, her eyes meeting mine. I stared up at her, the room dead silent. A grin spread onto her face, a giggle escaping. “I didn’t mean for you to stop. Feels different from when I do it.”

“Good different or bad different?” I asked, still not moving.

“Your fingers are bigger than mine,” she said, rocking her hips forward, my finger rubbing against her. “Definitely a good different.”

I blinked a few times, shaking my head with a big smile. “Y/N Y/L/N. Are you humping my hand?”

“Yeah. And?” she asked, grinding her hips down, biting her bottom lip. 

“Definitely not innocent,” I said, moving my fingers again, Y/N’s lips parting when I slipped a finger inside her wet core, leaving my thumb to rub circles around the bundle of nerves. 

“More,” she whispered, capturing my lips, a breathy moan rising up her throat as I pushed another finger inside. I curled them and rubbed, Y/N’s body sparking like a live wire. “What the fuck…”

I ground my palm against her clit as I thrust my fingers inside her, slamming right against her g-spot. Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as she full body shuddered, this one clearly pleasant, head shaking once.

“Go with it,” I murmured as she yanked on my hair, her body unsure of what to do with this kind of pleasure. I’d only heard it described to me but I knew there was a difference between a normal orgasm and one that came from hitting that spot deep inside, one her little fingers couldn’t quite reach.

Her jaw dropped as her eyes fluttered open, giving me a chance to lean up and kiss her as she rode out the first wave of an orgasm.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” she panted against my lips, voice growing higher. Y/N whimpered when she went straight into a second orgasm, her hips jerking frantically, searching for more. 

Finally when her legs were quivering and she put a hand on my wrist, I stopped moving, Y/N rolling onto the bed beside me. She breathed hard with closed eyes, a thin layer of sweat on her face. I carefully started to pull my hand away, her hand squeezing my wrist hard. She forced her eyes open, no shred of worry or fear in them now.

“Do that again,” she whispered, removing her hand from my wrist and sliding it over to my stomach, down towards the obvious bulge in my pants. 

“Y/N-”

“I can trust you, right?” I nodded, Y/N working my belt open. “Then trust me too.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. She smiled, lazily nodding. 

“I’m not the only one with a problem connecting to someone. I’m just the one that cried all over themselves before you helped me. Now it’s your turn.” 

“Okay,” I whispered, Y/N stopping after unbuttoning the denim. Her eyes flickered to find mine, her hand moving up to tickle the skin of my stomach. 

“If you’re with me, you’re with me, Dean. No one else.”

“I already told you, princess. I’m yours.” She raised her chin, satisfied with that answer. But still, she didn’t move. “What’s wrong?”

“Why won’t you commit to anyone? Honest answer.” I closed my eyes, her small hand on my face making me slowly open them. “I’m not going to hurt you either.”

“Part of it is Sam. Feeling responsible, not wanting to feel that pain again. Love would…” I trailed off.

“Someone that can destroy you again.” I nodded, removing my hand from her pants, letting it rest on her hip instead. 

“I don’t want that pain,” I whispered. “And I don’t get it as bad as you but women just want to use me. Date a NFL player and they can launch their influencer careers or model or whatever. So I let them use my body instead and I used theirs and I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt. But that’s not the real reason.”

Y/N ran her fingers through my hair, looking at me with the softest eyes I’d ever seen, reminding me of Sammy for a split second.

“It’s hard to move on when you’re still hung up on the girl from college that wouldn’t give you the time of day.” She swallowed down a thick lump in her throat, watching me oh so carefully, looking for any sign of bullshit. I didn’t blame her one bit. “I told you I had a crush on you.”

“You get over crushes,” she whispered, her voice gentle.

“You do. S’really fucking weird though to get a crush on a girl who went through the same shitty life experience as you, who ended up having as massive of a career as you, all before you ever knew that shit about her. Life’s funny like that, isn’t it.”

“If Sam hadn’t gone missing-”

“I would have pursued you. But I was so goddamn broken my last two years of school, I couldn’t handle that kind of rejection. Everybody thinks Finish Line is such a happy song because of the beat but it’s fucking tragic, isn’t it? I never saw that until after he was gone. I knew only someone in pain could have written those lyrics. Neither one of us back then were ready for a relationship, not when it was so raw.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I wish I could have been there for you back then.”

“Want to know something embarrassing? I have a playlist that’s just your songs. I listen to it before every game for luck. I would wish I’d said something to you in college because now you’re so beautiful and so famous and I’m the emotionally distant playboy you’d never go out with. I’d have to do something stupid like bribe you into a date by giving to your charity. That guy’s a fucking loser all because he never got over you…and I still don’t know if you just pity me or if you actually might like me too.” Water welled in her eyes again, my hand reaching out to catch it.

“We’re going to make a promise,” she said, holding my hand to her chest. “We don’t hate ourselves anymore. You’re not the playboy anymore. I’m not afraid of moments like this. You’re Dean and I’m Y/N and we like each other. We are two people dating and figuring it out like everyone else in the world. You are not a loser, Winchester. Promise?”

“Promise,” I said, lacing our fingers together. I chuckled, Y/N scooting closer to rest her head on my shoulder. “Look at us. I think we’re getting the hang of this having a healthy relationship thing.”

“People make it seem so hard,” she joked, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you harassed me into that date.” I smirked, Y/N growling. “Don’t let it go to your head or I won’t give you a handjob.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I teased, Y/N eyeing me as her hand shifted downwards. “Hey, you really don’t have-”

She covered my mouth with a finger, shushing me. “I want to. Just tell me if I can make it better for you, okay?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to do just fine with it, princess.”

One Hour Later

I jogged downstairs, leaving Y/N lax in bed, completely blissed out from another round of orgasms. Turns out she had a pretty damn healthy sex drive. I cut her off at a blowjob though. She’d had an emotional night and I wanted her to feel good, not self-conscious about going too fast. I’d told her to wash up and clean off her face while I dished up our takeout and brought it up. Neither of us had eaten dinner yet and it wasn’t hard to convince her to split a pizza and garlic bread with me. 

Downstairs I poked around her kitchen for a bit before I found some plates, napkins and a pair of water bottles. 

“Here.” I jumped at the sudden voice, spinning around to find Eric setting a pizza box and smaller container on the kitchen island. 

“Uh, thanks. How-”

“Guards at the gate have a card they use to pay for takeout with,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “Your hair is tousled.”

I reached up to pat it down, Eric stalking over to me, cornering me against the counter. “Listen-”

“She needs a good man, not a fuckboy.” I cocked my head at him, Eric crossing his arms.

“You don’t know me,” I said, moving past him, setting everything on top of the pizza box.

“Yes I do,” he said behind me, hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “You’re going to butter her up because you share a history, break down her walls until you get in her pants. You’re already getting in, obviously. Once you fuck her a few times, then you’ll be gone, playboy Winchester got the pop princess, like a predator that caught his prey finally. Press will fucking love it and you’ll be able to fuck literally any woman on earth you want to which is all you want, isn’t it?”

I spun around, a dark scowl on his face as I pressed my chest to his, hands clenched by my side.

“You can be an ass to me all you want. You can think what you want. I know you care about her, love her even. So put on the tough guy act all you want. But we both know you wouldn’t have told me where she lives, wouldn’t have given me the magic password if you thought I would hurt her. You know exactly the kind of man I am. I bet you fucking know better than most people in the world, don’t you?”

He had two inches on me and used it to stare me down, his jaw clenched, a vein in his forehead pulsing. “She is not the kind of girl you hookup with. It’s all or nothing with her.”

“I will give her my all. I swear.” He bumped my shoulder as he walked past me, footsteps stopping a few feet behind me.

“If you love her the way I know you do, then you better.”

“How do you know I do?” I asked but he walked away and out the front door. Whatever. He wasn’t my concern anyway. I grabbed the box and headed upstairs, ready to enjoy dinner with my girl.

________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[glo0b]

~Cooking With Love~

(I do not own the art or character)

Content: Sebek x F!Yuu, other ocs are in this and as well as the other first years.

Tw: Some NSFW mentions, this was meant to be a nice fluff cooking fic but my depraved mind can't stop

word count: 2081

note: This took me FOREVER. I kept stopping and continuing so it might not be the best.

“Oh look, the Culinary Crucible sign ups are out again, maybe I could sign up to be a judge.” The five Ramshackle residents were walking down the halls of NRC, heading off to lunch like usual until Felix pointed out the Culinary Crucible sign ups. “Nya, I nearly died last time from Lilia’s cooking” Grim sat on Yuu’s head, it was his favorite spot since her hair was so fluffy. “How did Silver survive all those years with him? Perhaps it made his stomach stronger, I should test that out later, Mumble Mumble” There Donnie went with his evil scientist thoughts again and pulling out his notebook with info about everyone in the school, honestly how could that boy not be best friends with Rook at this point.

Yuu picked up the small paper that was stapled to the cork board, she noticed two familiar names sketched in pen on the parchment. “Hm looks like Floyd and Sebek would be the ones cooking. You may want to reconsider that thought, Felix.” Yuu couldn’t lie, she was slightly excited to see what Floyd and Sebek could do but also terrified of what the food would turn into. She did know a bit of both of their skill sets too. “That damn Eel? Jeeze I already gotta deal with his ass in the Basketball club! I bet he’d poison the food if he could!” Balik groans at the thought of having to see that wicked eel’s face cook for her. “Oh hush! Hmm, maybe I should sign up to be a judge.” Yuu quickly pushed away her fearful thoughts and signed the paper. “If you get a stomach ache from their food don’t come crying to me, henchmen!”

The thought of Sebek cooking for her was on Yuu’s mind all day. She giggled softly and smiled at the thought which started to freak her friends out a bit. “Yuu has been a little too bubbly than usual.” Epel bit into his BBQ, finally able to enjoy it since Vil or Rook weren’t nearby. “I scanned Yuu earlier and her heart rate seems to be more elevated than normal!” Ortho spoke, not eating since he didn’t need food but he still could eat it in a way since Idia gave him a new update! “I couldn’t smell any potions on her breath or anything so it could be something mental.” Jack was clueless to what could have happened to their sweet friend. “Do you think someone cursed her!? I’ll get revenge for Yuu!” Deuce looked like he was about to punch someone. “Wha- no! Who could possibly want to hurt Yuu? Let’s just ask Yuu what happened when she grabs her food.” Finally Ace was actually using his head to think, which if they weren't worried about Yuu, would have freaked the group out even more. "Alright, I'll calm down." Yuu grabbed her food and made her way to the rest of the first years with the other four behind her. Yuu places her tray down and sits next to Ace. “Hello big sis-” Before poor Ortho could greet Yuu he was interrupted by a very concerned Deuce. “Are you ok!? Did someone curse you?! Did you finally snap!?” Ace face palms. “Real nice on staying calm, Deuce.” Yuu raises her brow in suspicion but keeps her sweet smile. “Oh? What’s this now?” The first year group looks back at each other before Epel speaks up. “We’re just concerned since you’ve been acting a little off today….” The other Ramshackle residents finally joined the first years. “That’s just because she’s excited about being a judge for the upcoming Culinary crucible.” Donnie sits next to Ortho while Balik, Felix, and Grim sit next to or across from Yuu. “Really, you aren't getting it? Here’s another hint, loud knight of Diasomnia.” Small ‘Oooohs’ escape the boys’ lips as Donnie explains the reason behind Yuu's state.

Yuu covers her face in embarrassment. “That’s…not the reason..” Balik stabs her food with her fork repeatedly. “Really? Jeeze I can’t tell which one of you is more dense.” Felix rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, I gotta agree with Balik here.” Ortho stands up- well floats off the ground in excitement. “Maybe we could get you two together! Big brother was playing a game with the same premise the other day!”. “I don’t think that would work. The only thing that guy seems to think about is Malleus just like the only thing Grim thinks about is fancy tuna.” Ace snickers as he looks over at Grim devouring a can of tuna in Yuu’s lap. “Nya?! Hey!” Yuu glares at Ace and he stops right away. “That’s a really sweet idea, Ortho, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea right now.” Ortho looks slightly disappointed but nods his head in understatement. “Ok big Sis! I’ll still make a plan though!” 

The first years continue to talk but soon lunch comes to an end. “Man, I got P.E next. I better go now so I can get changed.” Felix whines as he grabs his empty tray and leaves. Everyone else starts to get up as well and leave for their classes. Yuu holds Grim in her arms as she walks with Ace, Deuce, and Donnie. “Oooh~ We got Alchemy next” Donnie smirks knowing he’ll get an easy 100%. “Don’t act so smug just because you’ve got slightly better grades than us!” Grim kicks his little feet causing Donnie to laugh his unsettling clown-like laugh. “Slightly? Oh please, you’ve gotten Ds and Cs on every test from Professor Crewel!” Donnie’s smirk grows even bigger as he knows Grim can’t make a well backed up argument. hours pass and classes slowly finish up for the day. “Yawn I really wish P.E didn’t kick my ass.” Felix rubs his sore arms. “Maybe it’s just because you’re weak and have little muscle on your bones.” Felix glares at Balik. “Be quiet, will you! You’re hurting my ears!” Grim interrupts their arguing before it could get any more heated. The two glare at each other before shutting up. “Hey, isn't the Culinary Crucible supposed to start tomorrow?” Donnie quickly changes the subject to make sure Balik and Felix don’t start arguing again. “Huh? Oh, yeah. It’s meant to be taking place before lunch, I think.”. Grim pouts. “Why can’t I get free food too! No fair!” Yuu giggles at Grim’s whines. The five reach their dorm and soon settle in for the night awaiting the brand new day full of opportunities to come. A certain half fae walks past the school cork board covered in flyers for clubs and what not, he looks down at the Culinary Crucible sheet. “So she has signed up to be a judge….I’LL DO MORE THAN MY VERY BEST FOR BOTH THE YOUNG MASTER AND YUU!” Sebek hurries his way back to Diasomnia so he can return to his job of guarding Malleus.

================================================

Morning comes without fail, birds chirp on cue as the sun rises with its natural beauty. Sebek was out doing his morning jogs before he had to head off to the Culinary Crucible. Sebek had originally signed up so he could learn to cook for his liege but when he found out Yuu was going to be one of the judges he felt even more determined to master the practice of the culinary arts. ‘I have to be able to cook for my future partner!’ That’s what the little voice in his head kept telling him plus Lilia said a good boyfriend should be able to cook for his partner when they’re sick or tired. Sebek finishes his morning jogs and heads inside of Diasomnia to wash off all the sweat on his body. As the cold water hits his body he thinks about how the Culinary Crucible could possibly go. He did learn a bit from Yuu when all the first years were at Ramshackle for a studie night which somehow turned into a small party. Sebek couldn’t help but blush when he remembered how Yuu’s soft hands guided him on how to cut an onion or when he burnt most of the vegetables Yuu just simple laughed it off with a reassuring smile. “How could a human like that make me feel like this….”. Oh Yuu’s soft hands, he just can’t stop thinking about them. All he wants is to have them trail along his body and wrap around his hard- “I must stop thinking about such things of Yuu! I need to get ready!” 

Sebek finishes his shower and gets dressed but not before gelling up his hair like he always does. This man went through almost two jars of gel each week, if Sam didn’t somehow magically have everything in stock Sebek would have been stuck with his natural hair. Sebek quickly checks the time. “On time as always.” And with that Sebek leaves to head off to the Culinary Crucible.

================================================

All of Ramshackle’s (living) residents were sitting in the courtyard talking. It was their free time before lunch so Donnie started making bets “Ok, 10$ says Sebek burns it to ash.” Donnie rolls his eyes at Felix’s bet. “Oh please, he’s not Lilia. Althouuuugh, 5$ says he makes it too dry or too bland to eat.” Yuu couldn’t help but laugh “Wow, you really don’t have faith in him? How about 100$ says Sebek makes something that I’ll enjoy.” Both Felix and Donnie’s eyes widen “Henchman, are you feeling ok!?” Even Grim and Balik looked shocked “Yuu is making bets?!” Balik dropped her cool guy act from pure shock. “We don’t even have that kind of money! Crowley doesn’t pay us shit!” Yuu smirks at Donnie’s comment and shrugs her shoulders. “Well~ I just have a lot of faith in Sebek, I guess. Plus I should probably join in on the fun shouldn’t I?” “I guess you do seem to like him a lot.” Balik plainly states. “Seems?? Those two are head over heels for each other!” Donnie throws his arms up in the air in frustration. “We’ll just have to wait and see who the winner of the bet is.” Yuu smiles knowingly. “Nya, I’m going to buy so much tuna with this bet!” Donnie rolls his eyes at Grim’s gluttonous statement before looking down at his watch “Looks like we only have a few minutes till next period.” Everyone lets out a small groan before saying their goodbyes and parting for their next classes. ==============================================

Yuu sat comfortable in the judge’s chair with Idia to her left and Trey to her right. Sebek set a bowl full of chicken pho before her with shaky hands. He looked so nervous, which seemed so unlike him. Once Idia and Trey also reserved a bowl of the chicken pho Yuu took a small spoon full. She looked up at the nervous half fae man in front of her and put the spoon to her lips…..Woah! The chicken had a melt in your mouth texture and the broth was so flavorful! Yuu’s eyes opened in shock as she let out a small moan from the amazing dish. After the other two finished it was time for the results. Yuu was so proud of Sebek, he obviously worked super hard on the dish. Yuu happily held up the sign that had the number ten written on it. “Amazing~! I loved it!”. Trey held up a ten sign as well while Idia held up a nine sign. A big grin spread across Sebek’s face as he saw the high ranking signs, he quickly bowed. “Thank you!”  ================================================

“WHAT!?” Like they planned this Felix, Balik, Donnie, and Grim all yelled in unison. “But how!?” Donnie was still in disbelief, how did Sebek do such a good job!? “My tuuuuuuuna!” Grim whined as his dreams of buying tuna with the bet money went down the drain. “Oh hush, I’ll buy you some tuna.” Grim’s ears pop up at the mention of Yuu buying him tuna. “I guess you get the money then.” Felix lets out a sigh before handing Yuu the money. “Thank you! Now remember next time not to test my intuition~” Yuu chuckled to herself. “Yeah, yeah, whatever and maybe next time we can get to taste this ‘amazing food’.” Balik still doubted Sebek of all people could cook such a good meal. “Yeah maybe…..” Yuu remembered the creamy, rich broth and melt in your mouth chicken, maybe she would have to cook for Sebek some time? Maybe a cooking date? Who knows, there’s so much time in life when you cook with love~!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You have made it! Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, it took me VERY long to make this. Mental health didn't help much lol. Make sure to get plenty of rest and to drink water dear reader!

[katyawriteswhump]

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂 

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”  

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

[lostmyhufflepuffstatus]

Tear Drops on My Guitar

Word Count: 957

Summary: You've been friends with Sam Winchester for a long time, but lately you have been gaining more than platonic feelings for him.

Warnings: terrible writing as per usual

Genre: Angst????

A/N: I guess I'm breaking out of my Criminal Minds fandom shell... not going to lie the Supernatural fandom scares me... even though I have been a part of it for over 8 years.

Requests: OPEN

It had been two years of being at Stanford University with Sam Winchester, a year and a half since you got the courage to talk to him in a shared class, and just over a year of friendship. It was a shock to nobody when you told a mutual friend about your more than platonic feelings for Sam. For a while, you held up hope that he might share those feelings, I mean, it's hard not to form a bond with someone who was up all-night studying with you and was one of the first people to congratulate you when you got that near perfect score on the LSATs, even though they were a music composition major.  

There were many drunken nights where he would tell you a bit about his family, how his father was constantly moving him and his brother around as kids, and how Sam never got the chance to put down secure roots in one place until he got into school. He admitted that he hadn’t told anyone about that until you. He could finally have friends and a life of his own. You thought about those nights a lot 

  You dragged your eyes away from his form, looking down at your notebook to look like you were studying, but the paper was blank. You knew deep down that if you kept looking at him with her, you would start crying in the middle of the courtyard. But you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes returned to him and Jessica. You wished with everything you had that you could hate her, that you could just pretend she didn’t exist, that she was some horrible monster that would just go away once you opened your eyes and stopped being scared. But you couldn’t. She made your best friend so happy; she was so kind to everyone and had never said a hateful thing about anyone that didn’t deserve it. That was what hurt the most.  

You couldn’t picture anyone more perfect for Sam, nobody else deserved the kind of love that he showed her. You had never seen the smile on his face that he had. Sure, he smiled at you, and those were genuine, but the smiles he reserved for Jessica made him look alive like he was invisible.  

You forced yourself to look away and gather up your things. You had tortured yourself for too long. While rushing to shove things into your bag, you couldn’t fight the urge to just look up one last time. As you were standing up Sam turned his head away from his conversation with Jess and met your gaze. You saw his face break out into the brightest smile, and that hurt. You forced the muscles in your face to return his grin with a small smile of your own. He looked like he was going to get up to try and talk to you, but you knew that you couldn’t take to him right now without spilling your heart out for him, and the rest of the students wandering around to see. You gave him a small wave before turning on your heel and making your way out of the courtyard as calmly as possible.  

You could feel your eyes starting to burn with tears. The second you knew you were sure Sam wasn’t following you and you were out of his line of sight; you started running to your room. You needed the safety of the four blank walls. It was a blessing that your roommate had gone home for the weekend and wouldn’t be back until Monday.  

You almost broke your key in the lock as you rushed to push the door open. You closed it hard behind you and locked it. The moment the lock clicked into place you felt the tears come. Sliding down the door, you covered your face in your hands and just let the tears go and today you couldn't seem to get them to stop. You didn’t know how much time you spent sitting on the floor in front of your door, how long you felt like the sobs being forced from your body would tear you in half. It was long enough for the sun to start its descent in the sky and the first stars began to show. After the last tear was expelled from your body, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, and then another.  

Standing up you turned to the mirror that was covered in pictures, pictures of your family, your friends from home, your cats Moose and Squirrel, and of course a picture of you and Sam. That one had been taken on your 21st birthday. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you were making stupid faces at the camera completely in a world of happiness and bliss. You carefully removed the photo from the mirror and held it in your hands; you had an impulsive thought to just tear the photograph into little pieces and throw them away. But you knew that you would regret that if you did, so you shoved it into a drawer in your desk. You shoved your shoes off, not bothering to put them back where they needed to go before climbing into your bed, still in your day clothes. Pulling the blankets over your head, you hugged a pillow close to your chest and forced your eyes to close.  

Maybe going to bed early, incredibly early apparently since the sun hadn’t fully set, and getting some sleep would make you feel better. Forcing your eyes to close, you hugged the pillow tighter as the first silent tears began to fall you thought about that smile, it was like you were back in the courtyard again but this time instead of Jess, that smile was for you. 

[ipsen]

EtoKen Mini-Fic

inspired by @tatatatatara's tags. been sitting on this one for a LONG time LOL Root A-esque narrative. Some time during the timeskip after the 11th ward raid.

"Sneaking into Tatara's room now, are we?" Eto giggled.

Kaneki would have flinched had he not heard her flitting down the hall seconds before. He held up his excuse in his hand— Sen Takatsuki's The Black Goat's Egg— as a meager defense for his trespass.

"It's still wrapped," he half-explained.

It reminded him of more innocent days, when he was ignorant to the whims of the world and all the things distorting it. The fact that he was drawn to it because of that was an unfortunate affliction, one that he had to squash.

"So it is." She leaned on the doorway, arms crossed. "You know Takatsuki, then?"

He pursed his lips, hesitating for a second. "I'm familiar."

He gave away some, but not all. A bond with a fellow executive, especially one who knew more than she let on, was vital, but he had to keep his distance lest he lose focus. Still, as long as they weren’t trying to kill each other, it couldn’t hurt to indulge so long as he kept himself in check.

"Oho..." Eto stepped into the room, browsing the rest of Tatara's stack. "There aren't a lot of readers here in Aogiri, you know."

"So I noticed." Ayato didn't care. Naki was curious, but lacked the vocabulary. "Seeing something like Takatsuki was... surprising, was all."

“He has a strange fixation with her, for whatever reason,” Eto said, fingers brushing against the book spines. “Yet he can barely read kanji.”

Kaneki hummed. “He's from China, right?”

“Yep. He claims kanji gives him a headache.” She took one from the middle, letting the ones above it topple onto the table. “Oh, I was looking for this!”

He raised a brow. “Hakushuu?”

“You know him! But of course you do.” She held up the cover to show him. “This is actually my copy, did you know that? Turns out Tatara’s a bit of a thief too!” She cackled.

Upon closer inspection, he saw the black of ink staining the edges of the pages, much like all of the books in his satchel that she, apparently similar to Tatara, had stolen. “You like to annotate your books?”

“It enhances a reread.” She stowed it away into her cloak. “You prefer scribbling them in a notebook.”

“To preserve the original experience,” he explained. “And if someone else wants to read it, there won’t be spoilers.”

“Such foresight.”

Kaneki got the feeling Eto was mocking him. Or maybe she was complimenting his consideration. Either way, he didn't like it; he'd had enough of being toyed with to last a lifetime.

And yet... something stirred within him. Something like... relief. Yes, relief was the word. Relief that, at the very least, someone might actually be able to keep up with him. Relief that, inside this beast's belly, there was a fire to warm himself by before he journeyed to its heart.

However, there was still a beast to slay. Weeds to uproot. And it was his responsibility, as the one who knew, to be the one to dirty his hands with blood and dirt. He couldn't always waste his time whiling away the hours at the fire-- no matter how much he wanted to.

He made to leave, but before he got to the hall, he felt something get pushed into his hands. When he looked at what it was, it was Eto's ink-stained book of Hakushuu poetry.

"Tell me your thoughts when you have the time," she said, expression a mystery behind her bandages. "A reread always offers a new perspective."

Kaneki thought out all sorts of responses, many of them outright rejections, but ultimately settled for, "Maybe."

"Hmph. Half-ass," was all she said before trotting past him and leaving, unusually quiet.

Not only that, but the room was colder than when he entered.

[shirolian]

Regrets of the Past

One would say that when a witch reaches the age of seventeen, she is set free to set her own life course. In the world of magic, or at least, in Britain, it meant becoming a legal adult. For Shirolian, this statement was rather empty - her sixth year in Hogwarts forced her to become an adult in the most cruel way possible. Her eyes, presently grey, observed her best friend Yoon. The girl was sitting next to her on a bench, scribbling something in her notebook. She was so blissfully unaware of everything and Shirolian envied the innocence it provided. The falling leaves from the cherry tree kept landing softly, signifying that autumn came. Shirolian smiled slightly, brushing the orange leaf out of her lap. 

“Yoon, the time is almost up.” Shirolian tapped on a bench to get the girl’s attention. Yoon set her pen aside and closed the notebook.

“I don’t feel like walking all the way there.”

“Come on, it’s only like 10 sets of stairs,” Shirolian chuckled.

“I can’t help it, my body feels strangely sore and weak after this summer,” Yoon remarked.

Shirolian’s already white face paled even more. The guilt was overwhelming, nudging on her heart, whispering, repeating the word ‘traitor’. Yoon just gave birth to a baby she will never raise as her own and she… She is pressuring her to study. Could she be an even more terrible friend than this? Shirolian stood up, brushing aside her long hair and picked up the notebook from Yoon’s lap. 

“Should I deliver it in your stead then?”

Yoon’s face brightened and nodded. “That would be neat! I will bring you donuts in the evening!”

Shirolian returned the nod and turned away, heading to the castle. One by one, she climbed the stairs up like she climbed over the heart of her best friend. The memories from past summer kept flashing in her mind. Blushing and joyful Yoon, when she confided in her with the secret affair. Yoon, on the verge of tears when they discovered the source of her morning sickness. Yoon, extremely angry and pinning her to the wall by neck when she learned of the betrayal. And Yoon, crying in agony, screaming her lungs out when Shirolian held her hand as she pushed the baby out. Little Aster… You are my little star, Yoon whispered to the baby in her arms. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she whispered, apologising to the Yoon in her memory.

“What are you sorry for?” A soft, velvety male voice pierced through the mental fog and cleared it away. Her eyes widened, focusing on the sight in front of her. She was on the verge of the stairs but somehow she didn’t notice that they started moving while she climbed. Had she taken one more step up, she would fall down and possibly die from the impact. Her hand was held tightly - she noticed it now. 

“Thank you, I lost myself for a moment,” she replied, a bit shaken. “Oh I have something for you, professor Anselm,” she remembered and handed him Yoon’s notebook. 

“Yoon finished her assignment, please grade it soon,” she explained and the man nodded.

“There is nobody around and you are partly a teacher yourself. Please, call me by the name.” 

The name you gave me. Like the sun, coming to the sky at dawn, you blessed me with your rays. I asked myself, what is the meaning of life? And then you appeared, giving it to me.

A soft, knowing smile graced her otherwise sharp features. Their fingers brushed as he accepted the notebook and somehow, they lingered for an impossible moment there, touching, praying and wishing for something that couldn’t be.

“Then, thank you for providing the extra course for Yoon. Caleb.”

[annas-hair-donut]

WIP ask Chapter 15:Boxes

Chapter 15: Boxes is the next chapter of The Refugees.

This is *the* chapter.

This is the chapter where Anna finds out what's in her boxes, which I know I've been promising for the last 3 chapters. But there's really no escaping it this time. And it's the whole reason I wanted to write this fic in the first place.

Also exciting: I'm introducing a new character in this chapter (see below the cut)

Thanks for the ask, Biblio!

See below the cut for a little preview

“Anna, please,” he pleaded with shimmering eyes, “please, let me help you unpack.”

The words lingered in Anna’s ears; they lulled her to sleep at night; they kept her company when she was alone.

She was so lost in them and the way Kristoff meant them. She hadn’t even come close to deflating after the high of finally touching Kristoff. She couldn’t believe that no one noticed how much her skin glowed. It was like Ahtohallan was so pleased that she finally learned the truth about Kristoff. He was hers. He was for her. And she was for him.

But when Sven plopped down at the lunch table across from her, Anna blinked. She looked around until she got her berrings.

Sven gave her a tiny wave before he came into focus. “Hey, Anna. Is it ok if I sit here?”

“Yeah! Of course!”

She swept her lunchbag to the side so he could put his entire tray on the table.

There was no Kristoff, no Rapunzel, which meant no Eugene. And Anna had never sat with Sven without the others around.

“How are you?” she asked.

He flashed her the sweetest smile and she couldn’t help returning it.

“I’m good. You know, just trying not to let Eugene and Kristoff get me into trouble.”

Anna sat up a little taller. She didn’t want to ask Sven about him because she didn’t want him to think she didn’t want to talk to him. Because she did. But her world centered around the absence of Kristoff, and nothing else really seemed to matter.

Sven chuckled as though he knew what she was thinking. “Speaking of.”

Anna felt her cheeks burn. How could she have been so selfish?

“He’s doing good. He actually asked me to give this to you.”

He dropped a folded up piece of notebook paper in front of her, and she felt a surge of good feelings. She had to stop herself from smelling the paper in case it smelled like Kristoff.

“Yeah, so I’ll just give you a moment to read it.”

Anna dropped her hand with the note and said, “No, that’s ok. I’ll read it later.”

Then she put it in her back pocket and it burned like stardust. She didn’t mind sitting on it, but she was probably going to spend her next class period in a maintenance closet reading and rereading Kristoff’s words. She could give Sven a few moments of her time.

After all, he was Kristoff’s best friend, and she wanted to know him better.

He dug into his carrots and shrugged. “You know, I’ve been doing my best with him, but apparently you’re a much better Coronan teacher.”

Anna giggled, almost snorting the apple juice she was sipping from a straw.

“Don’t get me wrong. You’re not a better teacher than me or anything.”

“Of course not!” Anna agreed.

“It’s just that he’s not as motivated with me. I know it’s because of the sandwiches.”

Anna’s giggle twinkled, and a ray of sun came into the cafeteria, and Anna realized that Ahtohallan’s love shined on his smile. It filled her heart with joy that Kristoff had a friend like him.

“What’s your secret anyway? How do you make such a good sandwich that Kristoff brings it up at least once a day.”

Eugene plopped down next to Sven and Rapunzel sat on the table next to him. “What does Kristoff say once a day?”

“That Anna is really good at making sandwiches.”

“Oh yeah, he does bring that up like way more than necessary.”

As obnoxious as Eugene was, Anna was extremely grateful that at least he was still in her gym class. Of course, they had to listen to the taunts about how they were cheating on Rapunzel and how Eugene needed to watch out or Kristoff was going to punch him.

Anna knew the idea hadn’t even entered his mind. And Rapunzel was completely oblivious to anything anyone said about her. And a lot had been said when she started dating Eugene. Mostly people saying that he wasn’t good enough or she was “slumming it.” But from where Anna stood, Eugene was a wonderful person and he was completely smitten with Rapunzel. Eugene had a golden heart, just like her cousin, and they deserved each other.

“So!” Eugene slammed a flyer down on the table so the four of them could see. 

Kegger in the woods.

“We all know what Saturday is, yes?”

“Eugene!” Rapunzel said and tucked her pink cheeks into her hands.

He took her hand and looked into her eyes, “It’s this pretty lady’s birthday!”

Anna gushed internally at the way he said it. It was just so intimate and personal, and she was overwhelmed with happiness that Rapunzel had someone in her life that loved her as much as Anna loved Kristoff.

“Oh, hey!” Rapunzel said, jumping off the table.

She caught up with a girl wearing a wispy black sweater that grazed the ankles of her platform black boots. Anna smiled at the black bandana flopping over her bright purple pixie cut.

“Ok, guys!” Rapunzel announced. She had her arm hooked into the girl’s elbow. The girl’s expression was so stoic that Anna couldn’t even guess what she was thinking. But her eyes were adorned with a beautiful mix of green and purple that reminded her of the Northern Lights. And her face was sprinkled with tiny silver studs, the kinds of piercings that would easily overtake Anna’s face and make her look more awkward than she already felt in her own skin, but they were so neat and artistic on her. Anna was immediately in awe of the girl.

“So, this is Maleficent. She just got here from Arendelle yesterday.”

Anna’s eyebrows raised, but she forced her smile because she didn’t want Maleficent to feel unwelcome. But it was just a reminder to her that she hadn’t been to the refugee center in months, and she hadn’t seen her father for just as long.

“Maleficent,” Rapunzel said, “This is my cousin Anna, the one I was telling you about.”

Anna greeted her in Arendellian and invited her to over. Then Rapunzel made Eugene move so Maleficent could sit.

“Really?” he asked incredulously.

Rapunzel looked over her shoulder at him and said, “Be nice.”

He huffed and stepped onto a seat, placed his dirty combat boot in the middle of their table before jumping off and sitting next to Anna.

She looked at him slack-jawed and he suddenly looked up. “What?”

Then he sniffed and stole the bag of chips Rapunzel had just opened.

“Nothing,” they all said together.

“That’s my boyfriend!” Rapunzel said with a dramatic hair flip. Anna thought it was an odd moment to be proud of him, but Rapunzel was an odd duck.

Maleficent cackled in a way Anna could only describe as smoky.

“And this is Sven,” Anna gestured.

Sven held out her hand and she picked it up like a tissue she didn’t want to touch, but Sven went back to his carrots, unfazed.

“There’s one more of us, but he’s in time out right now.”

“Eugene!” Rapunzel and Sven shouted.

“What? We all know he’s a god-damn hero so I can make a joke.”

Anna blushed deeply. It was one thing for her to see him that way—because she did—but it moved her beyond words that his friends thought the same. Especially when everyone else took Hans’ side.

[neonponders]

I couldn’t not write a lil something after seeing @lazybakerart ‘s awesome Billy ~

It’s a bit short, but happy birthday, love! You’re a light in this fandom and a constant inspiration. Have a wonderful day!

~ read on ao3 ~

[ summoner!billy x demon!Steve - nsfw sexy time ]

• • • • •

Billy strolled to the counter of the video store. He counted dollar bills in his wallet, whereas all heads were lifted to see the news story on the overhead televisions. Billy thought this place was supposed to be showing movies on those, but 60 Minutes was sure as hell making its money.

Robin, the clerk, thankfully did math faster than the cash register. She smiled and sounded relieved when she said, “You’re not as riveted to the board game drama as everyone else?”

Billy smirked with a glance at the screen. SATANIC PANIC slid on an endless banner beneath the news anchor sitting at his desk. “If they care so much about dice rolling, then Vegas will just be a desert soon.”

Robin scoffed, “If kids’ board games made as much money as casinos, no one would give a damn. Enjoy your movies.”

“Oh, I will,” he grinned, and then paused with his eyes on the tiny shelf of candy bars on the counter. “Actually, give me all of those.”

Robin already had a hand reaching for them when she repeated, “All of them?”

Billy simply opened the bag holding his movies for her to drop them in. “My date likes Paydays.”

He gave her the cash and strolled out to his car. More grocery bags rustled in the breeze as he drove home. He’d had to restock; his date was a high maintenance catch, but Billy wasn’t the catch-and-release type.

Which accounted for the latest decor on his floor. He’d already rolled up the rug and moved the furniture out of the way so the the pentagram had all the space it needed. Steve had helped him paint it, since he claimed the original drawing on a notebook was like a bad telephone connection.

Steve, who liked his alfredo salty and his candy bars cold. Billy could understand that last one if it was summer, but they still had a month or so before such heat arrived.

Regardless, he threw the bars into the fridge and started dinner. The sauce was surprisingly easy, so while the noodles cooked, Billy went around the pentagram lighting candles. They take a few seconds too long to light, since they’re new, but Billy has done this so many times that it’s fast. Much faster than the whole evening it took the first time.

As he held his lighter over the last candle, he started the incantation. He kept his voice deep in his chest, both because there had to be some feeling to all of this, and because Steve liked when he made his voice extra low.

The wick caught aflame, and the lighter got tossed onto the couch so Billy could handle the next part.

Steve called it an athame.

Billy called it a dull knife.

So, he didn’t use a knife. He used a sharp as hell box-cutter blade with a bit too much olive oil on his fingers.

“Fuck. Jesus,” he cursed as red, red dripped onto his floor -

“He’s a dick, what are you calling him out for? Billy.”

Steve’s jaw dropped at the sight of his bleeding hand. Billy just smiled, loving the way his boyfriend just manifested out of thin air like that. The first time had been so theatrical and clumsy. Nearly burnt the house down. Now Billy as good as left the door unlocked for him.

Steve frowned like a pissy mother hen. He grasped that bleeding hand and towed Billy back to the kitchen sink. “I thought I told you to get one of those pokey, stabby things that diabetics use.”

“I couldn’t make it to the pharmacy today,” Billy purred while water moved over his hand. “Why are you playing nurse? Get your horns out, baby.”

Steve sighed, but that vein in his forehead began to bulge. The one in his neck too. Steve had pretty veins. And the demon was hungry. Reaching...why Steve was pretending some sort of chivalry was beyond his and Billy’s experience.

“Infection tastes disgusting. And if you run out of blood, you die.”

“Are you saying you’re not ready to move in together?” Billy taunted. But then he conceded, “This just happened. There’s nothing to clean.”

“It’s you.”

“What’re you saying?” Billy’s tone darkened. He was good with his bark. Good with his bite too.

It softened Steve right into shifting his weight, slouching a little and looking up at him from underneath heavy lashes. “It’s not considered healthy to want my type of company. Especially permanently.”

Billy lightened up. He smiled as he lifted his hand out of Steve’s to turn the faucet off. He let his hand bleed. “Aren’t you the source of sin and pleasure and temptation?”

“I just worry about you, B - ”

That wet hand touched his cheek, holding him still for Billy to kiss up into his mouth, because his demon was taller even when slouching. Despite the plush softness of his lips, Billy felt the stiffness of Steve’s features. He opened his eyes to see Steve’s brows pinched together; the breaths through his nose were too shallow as he tried and failed to avoid the smell of delicious red.

“What’re you waiting for? The pasta’s still got another minute.”

Steve’s eyes went out of focus as his eyelids heavily shut. He turned his face into Billy’s palm, blindly licking and finding the split in his flesh. Billy winced a little at the sharp prickle of friction on an open wound, but it didn’t last long. Steve had said there were different types of demons.

Steve wasn’t the pain type.

Billy didn’t know if he manipulated his mind or his nerves or all of it, but his hand stopped hurting. Instead of sharp prickles, he felt the slick muscle of Steve’s tongue. The tickle made him smile. Made his dick move in his jeans.

Steve wasn’t the shame type of demon, either.

Billy felt himself moved against the counter, but only for a moment because Steve started to struggle with his sweatshirt. The demon dressed like the prissiest prep Billy had ever seen, but he grinned because he knew why that shirt was coming off. It moved and roiled with wings caged inside it. Billy held his sleeves for Steve to yank his arms free and dump the thing onto the floor.

His horns almost blended in with his hair. Dark brown and curved, with the slightest golden sheen like Steve’s hair.

His wings had nowhere to hide, though. With whatever glamor Steve used wearing off, the large wings stretched wide, knocking over a kitchen chair. Billy chuckled and put his hands on Steve’s waist. Felt the way the skin almost seamlessly shifted into his dark feathers...

Billy had asked once why Steve’s wings were so patchy. He still had the soft plumery over the topmost ridge and joints of his wings, but when they stretched like that, the bare skin made him look equal parts bat and bird.

“Did falling from grace burn your wings?” Billy had teased, but also genuinely wanted to know.

A guard had gone up behind Steve’s eyes. Made him a real bitch to talk as Billy learned through trial and error Steve’s sweeter traits. Billy liked the sweet. He liked the bitch too.

“Corporate policy doesn’t give away that information,” he’d replied. Whatever that means. Billy’s thoughts on ‘God’ were skeptical and loose.

Billy glanced at his hand while Steve kissed his way down Billy’s throat. Healed. Not so much as a pink line of scar tissue. He could feel the silken strands of Steve’s hair with ease, and the hard, smooth ridges of a horn curving along his skull.

Lips continued down the exposed skin of Billy’s torso. Steve yanked the unbuttoned shirt from his jeans and popped the closure. Like a dial being cranked up, Billy’s erection filled all the way up, standing out of his jeans. He shuddered through his voice and held onto that horn. He might never get used to that; how Steve could turn his arousal up like a dimmer switch.

He’d still held the box cutter blade when Steve towed him to the kitchen. Billy had to do a little more work to rile Steve up, but he was feeling feisty today.

“Billy,” the demon growled, dark eyes lifting to him when he smelled fresh blood. Then he gasped, “Billy!” as a bloody palm grasped his forehead. Billy raked through Steve’s hair, smearing red over his skin, which shined like inconspicuous oil through his hair. When Billy gripped one of his horns, Steve vocally shuddered. He held onto Billy’s hips and would have rested his head on Billy’s abdomen if he was not held in place.

“Pasta timer says three minutes,” he crooned. A challenge.

Steve grimaced slightly, but not from pain or dislike. Billy could see the strain of Steve’s erection on his khakis where he knelt for him.

And then Steve drooled. He moved his head along Billy’s shaft, salivating from the scent of his blood, the aroma of his skin. Billy’s cock gave little kicks with his heart beat as he thought about how wet Steve must be in his pants.

He soon had to focus, though, because his toes lifted off the linoleum as Steve took him inside his mouth. The counter behind him caught him as Steve started a pace that escalated quickly. It was wet, sloppy, and delicious. Billy’s orgasm climbed with a dizzying speed, making him clench his hand on Steve’s horn.

Steve whined around the head of his dick, wanton and loud. As much as Billy liked being serviced, he wanted to give Steve something. He moved his foot between Steve’s splayed thighs and raised his foot to nudge the inseam of those khakis.

Steve’s knees closed around him, holding his foot there. His pelvis moved in tiny, clumsy thrusts while he brought Billy to a hard finish inside his mouth.

“Ah! Hahh,” Billy exhaled, panting like he was doing the work, holding onto both horns as Steve wrung him dry.

When Billy had nothing left, Steve tried to kiss his low tummy, even biting -

“No biting,” Billy scolded, but on his lustful breaths it sounded like a laugh or even an invitation. Before Steve could decide which one, Billy shoved him all the way down to the floor. Steve went willingly, lying beneath him as Billy shoved his jeans and underwear down, kicking them off. Steve looked beautiful, the way his body curved as he gazed up at him, large hands undoing his khakis and pushing them down like he were almost too tired or horny to manage it himself.

And he was wet.

Billy plopped right down on his thighs, taking that sloppy cock in hand and giving it slow pulls. He laughed against the bucking of Steve’s pelvis, because Steve had the strength to send him through the ceiling. Caught between willful lust and stopping himself from hurting him, Steve was a beautiful mess underneath him.

Billy felt pent up despite having seen Steve just yesterday. A tiny part in the back of his mind whispered that this was how addiction started.

And.

Well.

That little voice moaned with him when he lifted himself over Steve’s cock head, and sat right down. Steve cried out and then silenced himself by slamming his head back agains the floor. Billy cackled, loving the effect he had on him. “We’ve got all night and tomorrow. I took the day off.”

Steve blinked up at him, whiskey eyes engorging like the iris moved, not just the pupil. It was eerie and unsettling and Billy’s jaw went slack with how Steve commanded Billy’s blood to fill his erection again. Steve’s hands found the meaty junction of Billy’s thighs and hips. He held on there as he started thrusting up into him.

It took a moment for Billy to feel the pace and match it, planting his knees on the linoleum and getting his hands on Steve’s chest hair. Just the scratch of it against his skin made him sigh, “Hahh, yeah...” as his pelvis found the rhythm.

They met each other halfway, and it didn’t take long before Steve cried, “Billy. Ah! I’m there! Billy. Billy!”

Billy’s face and chest were flushed pink, his orgasm at Steve’s command as they rut against each other with brutal force. He knew his lumbar would hurt in an hour, but Steve, the worry wart, would take care of him. After their first night together, the loon had made Billy an epsom salt bath for christ (?) sake.

It took their climax a long minute to ease down, and only then did Billy realize that the timer on the microwave had gone off. It repeated it’s obligatory beeping, since he hadn’t turned it off -

Steve waved his hand, causing whatever circuit was in Billy’s microwave to cut out. The digital numbers went dark. Billy turned his head back to Steve, who grinned at him like he was drunk, and then reached for his bleeding hand like a damn lollipop.

The pasta was only a little bit soggy.

[woods2006gal]

Chapter 10 - LARP and the Real Girl

Addison yawns as she stares out at the passing scenery from where she was sitting in the backseat of the Impala. Things were still tense between the three of them. She wanted to know why Benny had called Dean in the first place, but he refused to tell her the truth. Sam was still weary of Dean and vice versa. She just wanted things to go back to normal. She still couldn’t believe that she and Dean were married. Had been married since that trip to Vegas they took nearly ten years earlier. She was still trying to wrap her head around it and the fact that Dean had kept it from her for so long. “You okay, man,” Dean asks, glancing at Sam who was intently studying a map.

“We have the most powerful weapon we’ve ever had against demons and we can’t find a way to use it,” Sam reminds.

“Yeah, well, Kevin’s on it. And when he finds something, he’ll call. So we wait. Look, we have had a rough go over the past couple of weeks. And, uh…I know what you gave up wasn’t easy. Maybe we ought to take the night off. Go see a flick, hit a bar or two, have some fun. You remember fun, don’t you, Sammy?”

A phone starts to ring. It takes Addison a moment to realize it’s her phone that’s ringing. She digs through her bag and pulls it out. Garth’s name was displayed on the screen. “Hi, Garth,” she greets.

“Hey. Why don’t you grab a piece of paper,” Garth tells her.

Addison grabs a small notebook out of her bag and writes down the details of a case. She frowns, seeing that it was near where they currently were. “Um, okay. I got everything down, but um, how exactly do you know where we are?”

“Through the GPS on your phones. I track you and a bunch of hunters to assign cases. Yeah, you’ve been Garthed,” Garth explains.

Addison hangs up and drops her phone on the seat beside her. “We need to get new phones,” she tells the boys. “Garth is tracking us and other hunters to assign cases.”

“Smart,” Dean says, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “A total Bobby move. What’s the deal?”

“Farmington Hills, Michigan. Some guy got ripped limb from limb inside his locked apartment,” Addison replies. 

“That’s not good,” Dean comments.

“Yeah. Definitely not.”

Sam reaches over the seat and grabs the small notebook out Addison’s hands. “Working a case,” he says. “As long as we’re waiting on Kevin, that’ll be our fun.” Addison sighs and turns her gaze back out of the window. She wanted things to go back to normal for them.

~*~

The trio flash the FBI badges at the officer standing outside of the apartment. “Sheriff,” Sam greets as they enter. Addison looks around the living room of the apartment. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Special Agent Taggart. These are my partners, Special Agents Rosewood and Todd.”

“FBI,” the Sheriff replies, looking at them. He was a middle aged man with a handle bar mustache that was more grey than anything. “You guys are quick. Haven’t even got the body out yet.”

“Well, the FBI is all work, no play,” Dean replies, shooting a look at Sam.

“You know, why don’t you give me the tour while my partners look around,” Sam asks the Sheriff, clearing ignoring Dean.

“I work better on my own,” Dean states.

The Sheriff shrugs. “Your world, Agent. Follow me.”

Sam follows the agent into the bedroom while Dean moves into the kitchen. Addison stands there for a moment then follows Sam and the Sheriff into the victim’s bedroom. Blood covered the walls. A body covered by a white sheet was on the bed. Sheets covered body parts of the floor. Addison lifts up a sheet and discovers one of the victim’s arms with a tattoo of a tree on it. She doesn’t miss the dark red marks around the wrist.

“Vic's name was Ed Nelson, thirty one years old, an insurance claim adjuster. He lived alone, which was a real shocker, considering his place is full of toys,” the Sheriff states.

“So, what happened,” Sam questions.

“No sign of forced entry. Near as we can tell, he was tired up and pulled apart. Died of the shock or massive blood loss. Dealer’s choice on that one.”

Sam motions to where bag contain chains was sitting. “So what about these chains?”

“That’s actually chain mail.”

Addison raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

The Sheriff chuckles. “Yeah. We did find clear rope burn marks on his wrists and ankles.”

“Was anything missing from the body,” Addison questions.

“You mean aside from the arms and legs? Uh, nope. All there. Twig and berries too.”

“What about the neighbors,” Sam asks. “Did they hear anything weird?”

“Uh, neighbor downstairs said she got woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of horses stomping their feet galloping. We didn’t find any hoof prints. She probably heard a TV was having a bad dream or she was high as balls. Fortunately, we got a real lead off of his cell phone. According to the phone records, Ed’s last call was from a guy called Lance Jacobsen. An accountant, also thirties, also lives alone.”

Sam frowns. “How is he lead?” 

“The two of them talked together for fifteen minutes and then Lance sent Ed here all kinds of angry texts. Some of them were you typical threat stuff, but some where a little weird,” the Sheriff explains as he leads Sam and Addison back into the living room. Dean walks over both the and subtle shakes his head, letting them know he hadn’t found anything.

“Weird how,” Dean questions.

“Like uh…‘you shall bleed for your crimes against us’ followed by the emoticon of a skull. And, uh, this beauty. ‘I am a mange. I will destroy you.’ These kids today with their texting and murder. My men just brought Lance into the station for questioning.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to take first crack the suspect,” Sam tells him.

The sheriff shrugs. “Like I said Agent, it’s your world.”

~*~

The trio walks into the interrogation room of the local police station. Lance Jacobsen was sitting at the table. Sam and Addison sit down across from him while Dean stands behind Addison, with a protective hand on the back of her chair. “Lance Jacobsen? We’re with the FBI,” Sam introduces.

“The FBI,” Lance asks, looking between the three of them. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe Ed's dead.”

Lance starts to cry. Addison reaches across and places a comforting hand on his arm. “Lance, just breath. Okay? You’re fine,” she softly tells him. "We just want to ask you a few questions, okay.” Lance wipes his face and takes a deep breath. He nods.

“We want to know about the, uh, texts you sent Ed last night,” Dean says.

“I told them when they brought me in those weren’t from me,” Lance replies.

“Well, your phone and Ed's phone say otherwise,” Sam counters.

“No, I mean, they were from me but they weren't me me.”

Addison stares at him. “Can you clarify what you mean?”

Lance sighs. “I’m sorry. This is all a big misunderstanding. Those text message were from Greyfox the Mystic to Thargrim the Difficult. Our characters in Moondoor. Moondoor is a game that Ed and I play. We’re LARPers.”

“Live action role playing,” Addison questions.

Lance nods. “We play Moondoor every other weekend at Heritage Park. All the info about it is on our website.”

“You guys have a website,” Dean disbelievingly asks.

“Yeah, one of the players designed it. In fact, if you log onto the site, they should have posted pictures from last night’s feast. I was there all night.”

“What does any of this have to do with the texts,” Sam questions.

“I play a character named Greyfox the Mystic. I’m a very, very powerful mage in the game.”

“Okay, uh, very powerful. Go on.”

“Ed is…Ed was Thargrim the Difficult of the Elder Forest, son of Hargrim and Bouphoin, brother to…He was the Lancelot to my Merlin.”

“What happened to cause the argument you two were clearly having,” Addison asks.

“We were named to the queen’s honor guard, in anticipation of the coming Battle of Kingdoms this weekend. I thought he broke protocol, so I called Ed after game hours and accused him cheating and then I challenged him a duel.”

“A duel,” Sam repeats.

“Wands and swords at dawn.”

Dean shifts. “Now when you say wands do you mean magic wands?”

“No. Un-magic wands, Agent. Because what I really want in a duel is an un-magic wand,” Lance sarcastically replies. “Yes! Fake wands! It’s a game! I can’t believe it. Oh, ye Gods! Thargrim the Difficult has fallen.”

Lance buries his face in his hands and lets out a sob. Sam and Addison stand up. Addison shoots him a soft smile then walks out of the with Sam. Dean awkwardly pats Lance on the shoulder. “Lance. Hang in there, champ,” Dean tells him before following Sam and Addison.

“So, either of you believe Dungeons & Dragons,” Sam questions.

“He’s not our guy,” Addison confidently says.

“He didn’t put a whammy on us,” Dean agrees. “Those weren't crocodile tears, man.”

“So, what are we looking at,” Sam asks.

“You saw the chain mail. This could be Fifty Shades of Greyfox for all we know.”

“All right, well, let’s check out the Moondoor website, see if Lance’s story checks out,” Sam replies. They walk over to a vacant desk with a computer on it and Sam sets down. It only takes him a couple of minutes to bring up the Moondoor website. “‘Welcome to Moondoor, Michigan's largest LARPing game.’”

“And I thought we needed get out more,” Dean mutters. Addison shoots him an unamused look. He smiles at her. She shakes her head and turns back to the computer as he places a hand on her lower back.

“There,” Addison says, pointing to a picture of Lance with two women. “There’s his alibi.”

“Huh. It actually looks kind of awesome,” Dean comments. Sam looks at him and Dean shifts.

“All right. There’s a video,” Sam says. He clicks on the link and brings up a video. They’re silent as they watch the video.

Dean frowns, recognizing a face. “Wait is that—”

“Charlie,” Addison interrupts. “Yeah, looks like it.”

~*~

Addison stares in disbelief as she looks around the park. Everyone was dressed in costumes. A few hours after they had talked to Lance, he had been murdered while still in the police interrogation room. He had the same tattoo on his arm that Ed had and the only other connection between the two victims was LARPing. Which is how the trio found themselves that morning at the park, surrounded by people who were all wearing renaissance costumes. Some of the people had ogre teeth or elf ears. The trio come to a stop in front of a man locked in a set of stocks with another man standing in front of him.

Addison raises an eyebrow as the man’s teeth fall out and the other man, wearing a red and white tunic, picks them up before placing them back in the man’s mouth. They finish their scene before the man wearing the tunic starts to walk away. “Excuse me,” Dean says, walking up to the man. “Hi. Uh, you are a LARPer, yeah?”

The man stares at him. “I perfect the term ‘interactive literaturist.’”

“Right. Uh, I am Special Agent Rosewood. These are Special Agents Taggart and Todd.”

“Hold,” the man shouts, pushing his hood down. “Um, guys, we’re not doing the whole genre mash up thing this weekend. We only do that every third month.”

“Come again,” Sam questions.

“Your fake badges, the cheap suits. It’s very cool. I get it. Your characters are FBI agents that somehow traveled to Moondoor, but I’m telling you it’s just — it’s straight up Moondoor this weekend.”

Sam frowns. “These aren’t fake badges.”

“Uh, yeah, they are and they’re…” the man trails off as he grabs Sam’s badge. “Very good, but, um, well, the ID number shifted to ten digits with, uh, two letters mixed in at the end of the year and the seal’s from last month. Really good work.” He hands the badge. “It’s just…it’s a tournament weekend, okay guys, so you got to follow the rules. If there’s no rule - chaos.” He pulls his hood back up. “Resume. If you would like to join the army of Moons, the queen is aways on the lookout for new squires.”

“Yes. Right,” Dean replies. “We would like to see your queen now, please.”

“Well, the queen’s calendar is booked up months in advance. But if you wish to witness what’s in store for you in her army, her highness is overseeing new squires on the pitch as we speak.”

It doesn’t take the trio long to find where Charlie was. She was in the middle of a large group wearing dark red clothing that resembled armor. “Greyfox and Thargrim are missing. We pray to the goddess they have not fallen victim of foul play. In there absence, the honor guard’s ranks are weakened. To join…” Charlie trails off when she recognizes them. “Oh, berg. Uh…The queen needs some royal ‘we’ time. Talk amongst themselves.”

Charlie walks into a large maroon tent at the back of the field. The trio follow her. Dean stops and picks up a fake sword. He examines. “Nice balance,” he says.

Sam shoots him a disbelieving look. “Dude.”

Addison shakes her head and walks with Sam into the tent with Dean following them. He was still carrying the sword. Addison raises an eyebrow seeing the elegantly decorated tent with ornate chairs.

“Charlie,” Sam begins.

“Charlie Bradbury is dead,” Charlie tells them. She unbuckles the leather arm guards she had on and shoves them into a duffle bag. “She died a year ago. You killed her. My name is Carrie Heinlein. Oh and guess what. Now you killed her too.”

Dean sighs. “Okay, listen, uh…”

“No, I buried myself. Then Dick Roman went down, his company belly up and I figure, ‘hey, it’s all good,’ and I was fine. I got my life back. Now you’re here and if you guys are here, monsters are here. Why do I have such bad luck? What am I? Some kind of monster magnet? Is there such a thing as a monster magnet? You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t care. What I care about is not getting my other arm broken or dying So…I’m dropping my sword and walking off the stage bitches.” Charlie grabs her bag and crown off the table. She drops the crown on Dean’s head as she starts to walk out of the tent. “Have fun storming the castle.”

“Charlie,” Dean exclaims. “Greyfox and Thargrim, uh, Ed and Lance, they’re not missing. They’re dead.”

Charlie stops and stares at them. “Ed was drawn and quartered by Lance bleed out,” Addison softly explains. 

Charlie doesn’t move for a moment, then sits down at the table. She motions for them to each take a seat. “Drawn and quartered and bleeding out,” she repeats. “Please stop talking again. So what do you think did this?”

“Well, aside from the, uh, mark and them both being LARPers, there’s really not much else to go on,” Dean says, pulling a photo of the tree that both Ed and Lance had on their arms.

Charlie picks up the photo. “Wait, I’ve seen this before. It’s a Celtic magic symbol. At least it was in my favorite video game. Does that help? Can I go now?”

“It’s a start, but no. Um, listen. What can you tell us about Ed and Lance,” Sam questions.

Charlie shrugs. “Good guys. Two of the best members of the queen’s ever shrinking army.”

“Ever shrinking,” Dean asks.

“My kingdom has had a lot of bad luck lately, probably cause of me, but maybe it’s tied to this,” Charlie says, motioning to the photo. “A month ago, one of my guys had both her ankles broken before battle. Before that, I had three people have hospital worthy accidents while at home. You think there’s any connection there?”

“Any common enemies,” Addison questions.

“In real life? No. Everyone gets along famously. In the game, though…” Charlie stands up and walks over to a table with a map on it. The trio follow her. There were different colored figures on the table. “They had tons on enemies. Red reps the followers of the Moon - my peeps. Green’s for the Elves, blue’s for the Warriors of Yesteryear, and black’s for Shadow Orcs. Total d-bags. This weekend is the Battle of the Kingdoms to see who wear the Forever Crown. This weekend, each faction is definitely an enemy of me and mine.”

“You know, if you, uh…” Dean begins, motioning to the red figures. “Move your arches back and your broadswords men to the west…”

“Huh.” Charlie nods. “Fight the warriors.” Dean smiles. “Hey, good call.”

“Thanks.”

“What about the southern wall?”

“Guys,” Sam says, clearly annoyed.

“Yeah,” Dean asks, looking at his younger brother. He clears his throat upon seeing Sam’s annoyed look. “Right. Sorry.”

“Maybe someone from one of the other kingdoms got ahold of something and now their using real magic to weaken your army,” Addison says.

“But why not just come after me,” Charlie argues. “And why the escalation?”

“All right, we will canvass the kingdoms. You should get out of here. We don’t want you to get hurt,” Dean says, finishing with Charlie.

“Whoa, wait,” Sam says. “Charlie knows Moondoor a lot better than we do. We need her.”

“Sam, I think we can take care of a bunch of accountants with foam swords.”

“We need all the help we can get, Dean. People are dying.”

“My point, which is usually yours, is that she should get somewhere safe and get back to a normal life.”

“Hey, I am right here and I want to leave,” Charlie interjects.

Dean smiles, triumphal. “Thank you.”

“But the queen…she has to stay. I mean, Sam is right. People are dying. That can’t happen on my watch. And you know what? I am tired of running. I like my life here. I’m gonna stay and fight for it.”

Sam’s phone rings. He pulls it out and answers. “Yeah.” Addison lightly smiles at Charlie and Dean. “Okay. Thanks. So, the toxicology report came back on Lance. Nothing. But the medical examiner said his body showed clears signs that he was killed by belladonna.”

“The porn star,” Charlie and Dean ask at the same time.

Addison raises an eyebrow. “Poison?”

“Oh,” Charlie and Dean simultaneously let out.

“However, they couldn’t find a trace of it in his system,” Sam finishes.

“Just like they couldn’t find ropes in Ed’s apartment,” Dean reasons.

“Charlie, I’m gonna need to borrow your laptop,” Sam says.

Charlie frowns. “There are no laptops in Moondoor,” she tells them and is met with three incredulous looks. “What? There are rules. But there is a tech tent four tents down.”

“Okay. How about you two go canvas and Ads and I’ll dig into these accidents and this mark,” Sam tells them before walking out of the tent.

Addison forces a smile and quickly follows Sam. She finds Sam a few feet away of her head. “Sam,” she calls out.

Sam stops and looks at her. “I’ll look into the accidents and the mark. Since you’re good at marking friends with vamps, go talk to to the other groups,” he tells her, then walks off.

Addison lets out an annoyed breath. She had hoped they were fine. But it was clear that Sam had zero desire to work alone with after everything that had occurred with Benny and Martin. She shakes her head and walks in the opposite of direction. 

~*~

“Addison? Addison?”

Addison groans and opens her eyes. She was in a very nice tent laying on a very comfortable bed. And kneeing in front of her was Charlie. The last thing she remembered was walking through the woods, searching for the Shadow Orcs. It hadn’t taken her long to learn that the Shadow Orcs were using the same symbol that was found on Ed and Lance.

“Where am I,” Addison lets out, sitting up. She winces and places a hand to her forehead. “What the hell happened?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to answer that,” Charlie replies. Addison reaches into her skirt pocket and pulls out her phone. She lets out an annoyed breath upon seeing that she had no signal. “Did you see the skull figure too?”

“What skull figure,” Addison questions. Charlie motions to the figure standing by the fireplace, watching them. Addison slowly stands up. She holds up her hands. “Look, we’re unarmed. You let Charlie go. And you can keep me. We don’t want any trouble. I don’t want Sam pissed at me anymore and I want Dean and Sam to just be fine with each other again. And I’m sure that Charlie just wants to go back to being a run of the mill I.T. girl. I…I just want things to go back to normal.”

The figure pulls off the skull to reveal a beautiful woman standing in front of them. “That is all I want as well,” she tells them. She pulls off her cloak and she’s wearing a long white dress. “My name is Gilda. I’m from the Hollow Forest of Arkhmoor. I’m a fairy.”

“Swoon,” Charlie mutters.

Addison raises an eyebrow. “How did you get here,” she questions Gilda.

“I was summoned here by a spell,” Gilda answers, shooting a smile at Charlie.

“Who summoned you?”

“I don’t know his name, but I was brought here to do his bidding.”

“His bidding,” Charlie disbelievingly repeats. “That’s never good.”

“No. It’s not,” Addison agrees.

“My…master, he-he has me hurt people. He’s forcing me to. I’d never hurt anyone,” Gilda tells them. “I’m a fairy. The good kind.”

“So, why is the dick head who is controlling you forcing you to hurt people?”

“I don’t know. He started off with smaller commands, but he’s become more violent. He had me kill two men this week.”

“Man, someone is taking this game way too seriously,” Charlie says.

Gilda frowns. “Game?”

“This…my outfit, all of this…it’s just a game here.”

“Why would you play such a game?”

“This world…not so much with the awesome. The game is a way to get away.”

“It’s a lovely forest, but it’s nothing like my home.”

“And how do we get you back home?”

Gilda sighs. “I can’t break free from the spell, myself. A hero must take my master’s book of magic and destroy it, breaking the spell.”

Charlie stands up. “Gilda, my name is Charlie Bradbury and I am here to rescue you.”

Gilda smiles at Charlie and Charlie smiles back. Addison clears her throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” she says. “I’ll go find Dean and Sam. See if we can find this magic book or whatever.”

Addison turns to walk out of the tent. She stops upon seeing Dean, Sam, and one of the LARPers. “It’s him,” Gilda exclaims, staring up. “My master! Run!”

The LARPer pushes his hood down. Sam and Dean raise their guns. “No guns in Moondoor, gentlemen,” he says. “Gilda, if you please?”

A sad look crosses Gilda’s face as she waves her hand. The boys’ guns turn into feathers. “Well, now what, Gerry,” Dean asks.

“My name is Boltar the Furious,” Gerry snaps. “My plan was, after getting rid of all of my competition, to win the battle tomorrow, convincing the queen that I should be her king. But then you three idiots showed up and I was forced to improvise. Rescue the damsel in distress from the Orcs, become king, kill the three of you. That’ll work too.”

“So, why did you got from hobbling to murder,” Sam questions.

“Greyfox and Thargrim became part of the honor guard. They got close to the queen, but they did it by breaking the rules. Paying off other players with real money, rather than Moondoor currency. They were cheating.”

“And using magic isn’t,” Dean argues.

“Magic is part of Moondoor.”

“What is your problem,” Charlie questions. “Why would you hurt people? This is just a game.”

“There is no game,” Gerry shouts. Addison notices a small book hanging off his belt. “There is only Moondoor! I came here to be different, to get away from my crappy life, to be a hero, and guess what.”

“What,” Dean begins. “You were a loser in the real world and you’re a loser here? Shocker.”

“Would a loser track down a real book of spells and compel a fairy to do his bidding?”

Addison slides a under the suit jacket she was wearing. Her Colt Compact was sitting in the waist band of her skirt. “It depends,” Sam replies. He had noticed what Addison was doing. Her hand wraps around the handle of her gun. “How’d you get it?”

“eBay.”

“Look. It doesn’t have to be like this, Boltar. Just hand over the book of spells. We can work this out.”

Gerry picks up a fake sword. “This will all work out after I remove you from the playing field and wipe her memory. Gilda?”

Gilda sighs. Addison pulls out her gun and shoots the book hanging on Gerry’s belt. He lets out a shout and falls to the floor. He covers the wound on his thigh. She walks over and yanks the book off of his belt. She tosses the book to Charlie. “Save the damsel in distress,” she amusedly says. 

Charlie stabs her dagger into the book. A bright light emits from it. “Are you okay,” she asks Gilda.

“I’m free of the spell,” Gilda replies. “You both saved me. The Hollow Forest is forever in your debt. I must return to those green hills now. I will take my former master with me. He must face a fairy tribunal for his sins.”

“Wait,” Charlie says. She walks over to the fairy and kisses her. Gilda smiles, then disappears with Gerry. “Call me…maybe?”

~*~

Addison sighs as she stares at the ceiling of the motel room. She had elected to stay behind while Dean and Sam went to visit Charlie. Her cell phone buzzes and she grabs it off the nightstand. “Yeah,” she answers, not taking her gaze off the ceiling.

“I need your help,” Sarah immediately greets. “Also, I’m outside of your motel room.”

Addison stands up and walks over to the door. She opens it to find Sarah, brightly grinning up at her. “What do you need help with?”

“A lead on our Rosetta Stone angel.”

[pez-and-quiet]

Sweeheart (minific) 3/??

CHAPTER 3 The box and the guitar

“So you know the night Eddie left, he didn’t say anything to anyone right?” Steve looked at Robin, she was clearly pissed off he had kept this from her for so long but she nodded. 

“I don’t know who put the box there but i had a feeling it was him (eddie)” Steve pointed at the box Robin had pulled out from the closet, “and this”. Steve got up from where he was sitting on the bed and walked into his closet. He came back out with a black guitar case covered in band logos and pins with Eddie’s name painted on it in big letters claiming the case as him. “Was leaned up against it with a sticky note that said “Stevie, sorry i couldn’t be a hero”. From what Henderson told me about Eddie’s performance in the UD, I think this is the same one that Eddie used that night. This Robin, this guitar is what started my adventure into the music industry” Steve had to put the guitar down before his shaky hands dropped it. 

“Oh Steve” He could hear the sympathy in her voice, “come here” She pulled him into a hug and he didn’t object. “Sorry about dragging this stuff up” she said into his shoulder.

Steve pulled away to look at her, “no, it's okay i should deal with this shit now before i actually forget about it. Let's go through the rest of that box, but first i think i need my jacket” Steve gave Robin one more hug before gently picking up the battle vest/jacket Robin had put down on his desk. He slid into it so easily, Steve had never realized how much he had missed wearing it. He missed the way it sat on his shoulders like a blanket, a rough denim blanket but a comforting one at least.

Steve pulled out his packing list and a pen from his desk and added a couple things

How to bring everyone with me without bringing them with me: Tour checklist part 2

Eddie’s battle jacket

UD Guitar 

Original Corroded Coffin shirt and poster

Eddie’s broken guitar pick necklace 

After they had gone through the box, Steve and Robin had put together a pile of everything Steve was keeping. Which if he was totally honest was a majority of the box, the stuff ranged from old band shirts Eddie had customized, a notebook with his handwriting, a heap of D&D stuff (which was going to Dustin), and a set of letters for the kids, the two of them, and Nancy were buried at the bottom of the box

The kids were going to be pretty pissed that they hadn’t been given to them but better late than never. They hadn’t heard from Nancy in a couple weeks so they just stuck her letter with Mike’s and figured he could get it to her.

Everything that Steve was keeping were mostly little things like a couple Corroded Coffin shirts with Munosn written on the back, The half of guitar pick Eddie was always wearing around his neck on a chain. Steve liked to think that Eddie had the other half. He was obviously keeping the guitar, Eddie had specifically left it to him and Steve was planning on using it this tour.

It took them around another hour to pack up the box and the stuff for the kids, and then another twenty minutes to gather everything Steve wanted from his room as he couldn't find anything. They packed up the car and Uhaul his tour manger Ellen had sent over with one of her spare guys. Eventually they were ready to hit the road. 

Steve took one last look at his room, well last look for the next several months. He grabbed his- Eddie’s guitar, slung one of the straps over his shoulder, grabbed his travel backpack and shut the door behind him ready to get this new adventure started. 

He had insisted that the guitar stay in the car with him and Robin and not go anywhere near the UHaul. He was also still wearing the battle jacket but he had thrown a fall jacket over it. The two best friends drove up to the kids apartment to say goodbye until the LA show. Steve had the box of stuff for the kids in his arms and Eddie’s guitar in its case on his back (he refused to leave it in the car) so he had Robin knock on the door. The door opened almost immediately after they had knocked, El stood there excited to see them. She rushed them inside, closing the door the second they stepped into the apartment. 

“STEVE!!!!” someone yelled, Steve turned to where the call had come from to see Dustin rushing towards him. Steve watched as Henderson limped/tried to run over to them. He handed the box to Robin not sure where to put it while he hugged Dustin. 

“Hey Henderson, you alright?” He asked the kid- no young adult. It was scary to think about that, they were grown up now.  

“Yea, what's that?” He asked, pointing at the box in Robin’s arms, “and that” he pointed at the guitar case on Steve’s back. 

“This” Steve gestured at the box with his head “is for you little shits but i dont see anyone else so i guess it's all mine” He pulled the box away from Dustin like he was going to take it with him when he left. 

“What no!  Hold on” Dustin ran tot he bottom of the stairs “YOU FUCKS NEED TO GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE BEFORE STEVE AND ROBIN LEAVE, THEY HAVE PRESENTS FOR US” he yelled so loudly, Steve swore you could've heard him in the next state over.

There was a rush of footsteps running down the stairs, even though they were young adults the idea of present turned them into teens again and it was adorable. 

“Alright, Alright you little shits” Steve had to hold the box above his head to stop them from grabbing it. “Go sit in the living room and we can open the box” it was like nothing had changed, with a bit of protesting (from Mike) they all piled into the living room. Everyone sat either on the floor or the couch. 

Steve placed the box down and explained where it came from, “I’m really sorry that your only now getting these letters, I never went through the box after he left it on my porch it was just to much but Robin found it in the back of my closet and i figured it was time to go through it. Those,” he gestured to the letters in each kid’s hand “where in the very bottom of the box, everything else in the box Robin and I went through and there's some stuff in here we thought you guys would want” 

Steve looked at the kids, Mike looked angry for a minute but Will seemed to have noticed and took his hand to calm him down. Dustin looked ready to explode from excitement and sadness. Lucas, Max and El were all looking at their letters with fondness. 

“Harrington, you never answered my other question” Dustin pointed out putting his letter down on the coffee table. 

“What?” Steve asked, lost in his thoughts. 

“What is that?” Dustin pointed at the guitar case on Steve’s back.

Steve sighed and pulled the case from his back and rested it on his knees, he pulled out the guitar. It shone in the sunlight that was leaking through the halfway drawn curtains. 

There was a collective gasp, Dustin was probably the loudest. He was there when Eddie had put on (in eddie’s words) “The most metal concert in the history of the world” Steve put it back in the case and placed it leaning against the wall closest to him. 

All the kids (they were still kids to him) told Steve and Robin all about school and living in the apartment and how excited they were to see Steve in concert. Apparently Dustin had bragged to a couple of his school friends that he had known Steve before he was famous. Which wasn’t wrong it was just funny to Steve. At some point Max had disappeared along with Mike but Steve was sure they hadn’t gone far. Max sometimes needed a break from large groups of people.

Ow! Something hit him in the back of the head, he turned around to where the thing had come from and saw Max gesturing for him to follow her. Steve looked at the others but they were engrossed in a story Robin was telling them. He stood up casually and walked over to where Max was hiding. He rounded the corner and Mike stood there arms crossed, looking pissed off. Max grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen. 

part one -> here

part two -> here

part three -> here you just read it

[redheadedwhat]

See How We Shine chapter 4: How to deal with bullies

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (can be read as reader inset)

Rating: None so far

Chpt 1 Chpt 2 Chpt 3

Minnie was sitting in the Hellfire room after school absorbed in a book about monster movie make-up, writing notes in a pocket-sized notebook she always kept in her bag when the door slammed open, a pissed off looking Eddie dragging Dustin Henderson behind him. 

“You got some first-aid supplies, Mouse?” Eddie asked as he pushed Dustin down onto a chair, the boy staring firmly at the floor. 

Minnie nodded, tossing her book aside and getting up to dig through her bag. “What happened?” 

“It’s nothing!” Dustin insisted, trying to rise from the chair, but Eddie just pushed him back down before he could fully stand. 

“I found Henderson washing blood off of himself in the boys bathroom,” Eddie explained, looking down at the sullen freshman, “He was doing a piss poor job of it too. I figured you’d have something to help so I dragged him here.” 

Minnie finally produced a full sized first aid kit from her purse and brought it over to Eddie and Dustin. Silently she sat next to Dustin and began tending to his wounds. He tried to pull away, but only earned a glare from both Minnie and Eddie. 

“Why do you have a full first aid kit in your purse?” Dustin asked, curiosity overcoming his stubborn refusal of help.

“She has all sorts of stuff in that bag of tricks of hers.” Eddie leaned against the table, watching to make sure Dustin didn’t fuss anymore. “Personally, I think it’s enchanted. Anytime I need something she seems to have it. Sewing kit, duct tape, snacks, a screwdriver, even an extra belt once.” 

Dustin’s gaze moved to Minnie as Eddie listed off the multitude of things he’d gotten from the girls magical bag. She pulled one of his hands into her own, ready to clean up the scrapes on his palms. He was getting ready to protest again when she finally spoke up.

“Just let me.” She insisted. “Besides, you have D&D later and you don’t want to get blood all over the dice.” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s how Eddie steals your soul.” 

That brought a smile to Dustin’s face, the first in what felt like hours. The boy was usually so upbeat that it actually hurt to see him so upset. 

“Is that what happened to you?” Dustin asked. He hadn’t talked to Minnie much even though she was usually present for Hellfire. Up to now he just thought of her as Eddie’s quiet friend. She didn’t seem too interested in anyone else. 

Minnie nodded, smiling at the question. “Yup. Got a papercut, picked up some dice and now I’m stuck for eternity.” 

“So what happened?” Eddie interrupted.

“You have absolutely no finesse.” Minnie muttered, finishing with Dustins’ hands and putting the supplies back into the first aid kit.

“I am made of finesse, sweetheart.” Eddie protested, “But my patience is extremely limited.” 

Dustin was back to staring forlornly at the floor, absently kicking his foot back and forth. Eddie was sure he’d messed up all the progress that Minnie had made when he heard Dustin ask;

“How do you handle bullies?” 

Eddie smothered a sigh. He figured it was something like that. Most of the time he was the biggest target for assholes wanting to cause trouble. He gave the others a shield to hide behind. But, Eddie couldn’t be with the kid all the time. 

“Well,” he started. “For me it usually involves freaking people out. Scaring them enough so that they don’t feel the need to resort to physical violence. If they do…” he held up his ring covered hand, wiggling his fingers for emphasis, “these babies pack quite a punch. I may not know how to fight, but I know that getting hit in the face with metal will make you think twice about fucking with someone.” 

Dustin nodded, contemplating what the older boy told him. He didn’t think he was cut out to fight or even to be as out there and over the top as Eddie. “How about you?” he turned to Minnie. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone bother you and you’re kind of…well…” 

“Weird?” She guessed.

He smiled bashfully, happy that she didn’t seem to take any offense. 

“My method probably won’t be very helpful.” She warned him. “I have two older brothers. They scared everyone off back in sixth grade.”

“You’re underselling it, Mouse!” Eddie insisted, turning to Dustin intent on giving him the real story. “She’s got two huge, scary as fuck older brothers. One was on the wrestling team for a few months, but had to quit after he put a kid into the hospital.” 

“The kid was fine.” Minnie protested. “He was only there overnight. It’s the schools fault for not having weight classes.” 

Eddie ignored her input, now settling into his storyteller role. “So, little sixth grade Mouse was getting picked on. Her family had just moved to Hawkins, she was small, quiet, and talked differently than everyone else. She was the perfect target.” 

“But she doesn’t talk weird.” Dustin interrupted the tale Eddie was weaving, glancing over at the girl for clarification. 

“Not anymore.” She shrugged. “My family is from Ireland, I still spoke with the accent when I moved here, but the school kept putting me into speech classes so I just started to speak like an American to get them off my back.” 

“That’s not important!” Eddie waved her off, eager to continue the story. “So poor little Mouse is getting bullied and when her brothers hear of this they are not happy. What are two self-respecting older brothers supposed to do? Protect their little sister, of course!” Eddie hopped out of his seat and puffed his chest up, pretending to be one of Minnie’s brothers. 

“They walk down to the middle school after classes end and see their precious, innocent baby sister getting made fun of by some scrawny little shit and decide to make an example of him.” He looms over Dustin, his arms spread wide to describe the scene. “The sky darkens and a hush falls over the crowd of children as the boy so mercilessly teasing Mouse rises into the air.” 

At this point Dustin is leaning forward in his chair eager to hear what happens next as Eddie expertly weaves his story.

“Her brother had grabbed the boy by the back of the shirt and lifted him so they were eye-to-eye, which was about a good foot off the ground for the little sixth grader. ‘That’s my feckin’ sister.’ he growled and gave the boy a shake. ‘You best stay away from her if you’ve got half a brain in that melon you call a head’.”

“Wait!” Minnie interrupted. “How would you know what he said? You weren’t even there.” 

“Your brothers told me.” Eddie said dismissively, wanting to get back to the story. “Your brother Dermot loves this story. Now can I please continue?” 

Minnie waved him on and Eddie got right back into the thick of it, looming over Dustin with one hand clenched in the air, holding up an invisible 6th grade bully.

“The boy promised to never bother anyone ever again, literally pissing himself in fear. And when her brother was finally convinced,” Eddie paused for emphasis, unclenching his hand that was held high in the air, “he dropped him.” 

Dustin gasped and turned to Minnie, who simply shrugged. It was a true story, but Eddie had definitely embellished some elements. 

“Her other brother simply glared at everyone, standing back and being intimidating.” Eddie continued. “Then they grabbed Mouse and left. No one ever bothered her again.” 

“I’ve been bothered since then.” Minnie interjected, breaking Eddie’s storytelling mode and causing him to frown at her.

“Yeah, but we fixed that.” He waved a dismissive hand. “No big deal.” 

“What happened?” Hearing stories of other people dealing with bullying was making Dustin feel a bit less like a loser. Like he wasn’t so alone. 

Minnie sighed, she could tell the boy was almost ready to open up so she decided to be nice and share. Even though she didn’t speak to Eddie’s new recruits too often she could tell that he really cared about them. And if he cared, she cared. “Do you know Ryan Litkowski?” 

Eddie jumped in, unable to stay away from telling a good story. “You may know him as Cryin’ Ryan’.”

Dustin nodded, waiting for them to go on and Eddie grinned, launching into another tale that was not his own. 

“Last year a rumor went around that a certain Mouse was banging young Mr. Ryan.” Eddie began.

Dustin turned to her, his eyes wide as he whispered, “You slept with him?” 

“No.” Minnie rolled her eyes. “I’ve only spoken to him twice in my life. The first time was to ask him why that rumor was going around. He told me his friends had been bugging him and he just said it. Told me to go with it.” 

Eddie jumped up from his position next to Dustin and crouched down next to Minnie. He loved this story and the dungeon master in him needed to make sure it was told correctly. “And the second time?” 

She stole a glance at him, smiling at how excited he was to tell Dustin about some of her most embarrassing moments. “The second time was when he begged me to tell people the rumor wasn’t true.” 

“He wanted you to clear up the rumor he started?” Dustin asked. When Minnie nodded he asked, “How did you manage that?” 

“At first I tried telling people that it wasn’t true, but no one believed me. Everyone loves a juicy rumor.” She slid her arm around Eddie’s shoulders, surprising both boys since the girl wasn’t usually so physically affectionate. “I complained to Eddie about it and he gave me the most brilliant idea.” 

Dustin swung his gaze to Eddie, who was only so happy to relay his part of the story. 

“I told her that no one would believe the truth, so she should embrace it, but add in some stuff to the story that would embarrass Ryan more than her.” 

“After that when anyone would ask I’d tell them that Ryan wore women’s underwear, or he could only have sex while keeping eye contact with a picture of Nancy Reagan that he kept beside his bed.” Minnie smiled at the memory. It was hard at first, but if no one was going to believe the truth anyway she might as well get back at the asshole that put her in that position in the first place.

“And the one that stuck…” Eddie poked Minnie in the side to urge her to continue. 

“I told someone that he cried every time he got an erection.” Minnie admitted shyly. 

Dustin put two and two together. “That’s why everyone calls him that!” 

“An embarrassing nickname lasts forever, young Henderson.” Eddie grinned.

Dustin threw back his head and laughed. Eddie would never say it out loud, but he felt proud that he and Minnie could make the kid feel so much better. Everyone was quiet for a bit, Eddie getting up to start set-up for Hellfire, Minnie going back to her book and Dustin sitting in quiet contemplation. Finally, he spoke up; 

“It was Chuck Halliday.” He said quietly. “He asked me to do his math homework and when I said no he pushed me.” 

Eddie nodded, letting the boy know he was listening without putting too much pressure on him. 

“He made fun of the way I talk,” Dustin continued, “Said if I didn’t do his homework he would pull my tongue out of my head.” 

“What a piece of shit.” Eddie supplied. 

Dustin just sighed. “I appreciate you guys helping me. But, I don’t have any siblings, no way to turn this around on him.” 

The boy busied himself with getting his things ready for Hellfire, completely missing the look that Eddie and Minnie shared over his head. 

—--

“Found you, ya little shit!” Eddie crowed, grabbing Dustin from his locker and pulling him along with him. 

Dustin allowed himself to be dragged behind the force of nature that was known as Eddie Munson, watching as people jumped out of the metalheads way. They stopped where Minnie was already waiting, trying to keep out of the way of the early morning rush of students. 

“What are we doing here?” Dustin asked.

“Just wait.” Eddie commanded, a hand up to halt all further speech. 

Dustin followed his order, keeping quiet, although completely confused until he saw Chuck Halliday walk up to his locker. Dustin was still confused, but continued to watch as his bully opened up his locker. After the second try at the combination the locker finally popped open, Chuck reached to get his books before noticing something on the top shelf. His face twisted in disgust. “What the fuck?” 

Lying on the top shelf on Chucks locker was a bloody cow's tongue. 

“I wonder if it’s still recognizable. Do you think I should have made a fake?” Asked Minnie. “I definitely saw something in one of my books.” 

“Nah,” Eddie shook his head, grin firmly on his face. “A fake wouldn’t have that smell. Wait for it.” 

Almost as if Eddie had timed it Chuck reared back, holding his hand over his nose. 

“What the fuck?” He cried again. 

Later, if you asked who had shouted it first, no one would be able to tell you. The truth gets lost in the chaos of the high school hallway, especially when something extraordinary is going on. As Chuck Halliday took in the bloody mass of flesh in his locker, the stench finally hit him, causing him to vomit down the front of his shirt. Someone in the crowd, someone who sounded suspiciously like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, shouted “Upchuck!” and everyone watching followed suit. 

From that day on Chuck Halliday was haunted by the nickname ‘Upchuck’. The school tried to figure out what happened, but they never did. No one ever connected Chuck bullying Dustin to this incident. And because of that there was no need to connect Dustin to Eddie and Minnie. No need for anyone to report that Eddie Munson knew how to open any locker in Hawkins High. Or that Minnie O’Malley knew exactly where to purchase the less commonly sold parts of livestock. Officially, no one knew what caused this incident. 

But Dustin knew. And that’s all that mattered.

-----

This is going to go into the events of Season 4 eventually. I'm just taking my sweet time. Thank you for reading!

[portaltothevoid]

Foolin’ (4/20) // eddie munson x ofc

Summary: After Kat’s disastrous morning conversation with Eddie, he decided to push her buttons even more leaving her seething and confused. Robin joins her briefly at lunch, followed by another unwanted visitor she has had enough of.

Warnings: the flame is low and the embers are hot (slow burn), angst,

Word count: 1.8k

Kat was fuming. Fuming at the fact Eddie had taken such an interest in her, at the fact he wanted to dig into her past, about how terrified she was, and about how it was looking more and more like she’d have to go to him when her supply runs dry. There had to be another way. She tried as hard as she could to focus on her classes, but their conversation kept replaying over and over. How coy he was with her, how he noticed things about her, didn’t believe her, how he said he trusted her. She couldn’t figure it out. Why? She kept asking herself over and over again, hoping an answer would magically pop into her mind. It wasn’t until the bell rang that she snapped back into reality. Only then she realized her next class, she had to sit right next to the one person she wanted to avoid.

When she got to math, she immediately sat down and stared straight ahead. Her pen was constantly tapping against her notebook. She started doodling little circles in the margins when she got the urge to check to see if he was nearing the door. Then, she heard the chair creek next to her. Stedfast, she refused to look up.

“Those are some…pretty intense circles you got going on there,” she heard him say, but didn’t acknowledge. She could feel him leaning over closer to her, so no one would hear what he was about to say. “I saw you, um, talking to Chrissy. You know, from my vantage point of your locker.” He paused waiting for her to interject. “I couldn’t exactly hear what you said, but from the looks of it, it sorta seemed like you were saying your goodbye to her. Pretty odd thing to do for someone who doesn’t care enough to befriend anyone.”

“If I was saying goodbye, then she’s not a friend,” Kat whispered through gritted teeth. She felt Eddie get closer.

“Not my point. My point is that you do care.” She felt the low timbre of his voice go right through her. Still gritting her teeth, she turned her head slowly to glare at him. “Ah, there she is.” He was smiling at her, gloating, as if he’d won an imaginary argument. Kat’s eyes flared with anger. Her hands tightened into fists. The other students were in their respective groups, catching up with one another before class began. Completely oblivious to what was happening in the corner of the room. Eddie went back over to his desk and took out a pencil from inside his leather jacket. Kat could see it was the one she gave him on her first day, noting the Xs she carved around it out of boredom. He tossed the pencil onto the ground. He dove to grab it only to be inches away from Kat for the second time this morning on his way up. This time, however, she was flooded with the scent of cigarettes, incense, and some kind of knockoff cologne. The fact that she found it all almost intoxicating made her anger burn even hotter. “And if you didn’t care, it wouldn’t…upset you. So. Much.” He smiled at her again, looking her directly in the eyes. She felt like he could see right through her. 

The bell rang, class was about to start. Eddie jolted over to his seat, facing forward, as if nothing ever happened. Kat went numb. She couldn’t even form a thought, let alone an expression. She slowly turned to face the front of the class. As she did, a realization dawned on her.

She wasn’t making it out of Hawkins alone.

As soon as class ended, Eddie jolted up again, tossing a folded piece of paper on Kat’s desk before heading out. He didn’t look back at her so Kat immediately unfolded it this time. There were doodles of circles and a bouquet of flowers. Written in the middle was an address followed by “For when Kat the Uncaring needs to refresh her bouquet. Trust me (or don’t) you won’t find better around here. Business is always open for you.”

“That son of a bitch.” Kat whispered to herself. She put this note with the other one. Trying as hard as she could to block out all the memories and thoughts she had of the morning.

When lunch rolled around, Kat had put her walkman on to help avoid… well, everything pretty much. She opted for Metallica’s Ride the Lightning album. She needed something heavier to funnel her emotions into. It helped keep her nerves at bay. In her own world, she barely noticed Robin slide into the seat across from her. She smiled softly when she noticed. “Oh hey, Robin.” Her headphones were around her neck, the music blaring out of them.

Robin raised her eyebrows. “Uh… h-hi! Hi Kat. That’s some… that’s pretty heavy stuff you got there.” She noticed pointing at Kat’s headphones. Kat hit pause on her walkman, chuckling.

“Yeah. Rough day, I guess.”

“I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know that there’s gonna be a party this weekend. I don’t know if you even like parties. Um, but, I thought it could be fun? I’m going. I’m gonna drag Steve. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going. So he’ll be there too. It’s gonna be at Lisa Larson’s house. I guess her parents are out of town and she’s doing some fall fest party? I don’t get why they even need an excuse for a party. Just have one? Okay. Um, yeah anyway… So like, if you don’t wanna go that’s totally fine. I just thought I would– I wanted to let you know.” Robin took a breath and smiled hesitantly waiting for Kat’s reply.

“Haven’t been one to turn down a party, yet, so why make an exception now?” Kat shrugged.

“Wait really?! Rad. Okay. May I?” Robin asked, grabbing Kat’s pen and her notebook, flipping to a blank page. She wrote down all the information for the party. Yeah so, Steve has to close Friday. So if you want, we could, um, go together? I can have Steve drive me home, so you can leave whenever you want.” She ressaured. 

“Okay, sure. Yeah. I’ll pick you up. Write down your address too.” Kat offered, passing the pen and paper back to Robin.

“I am so glad you offered. I don’t have a license. You know, poor and all. Wait, do you know? I don’t if– Okay what I’m trying to say is thank you. Might have been a little nervous to ask you.”

“Just a little?” Kat asked with a light laugh.

“Oh you noticed it too… I can’t help it. I just talk until someone tells me to shut up, but sometimes people are too nice and they don’t and–”

“Robin. It’s all good.” Kat gave her a warm smile. Probably the warmest one she gave since she arrived at Hawkins. 

“Okay. Great! Alright. I’m gonna go now. Leave you to your…music and work and stuff.”

“Thanks for understanding. And for the invite. It’s nice to have something to look forward to actually.”

“Of course! Hey, maybe you can show me some new music on the way over?” Robin wondered as she got up to go back to her table of friends.

“Definitely. I’ll see you later.”

“See ya! Bye!”

Across the cafeteria, Eddie kept glancing over at Kat. Deciding against bothering her for a third time. He did a double take when he saw Robin go over and Kat looked happy to see her. He watched as Robin wrote something out for her. He heard a snapping by his head that brought him back to his table.

“Yeah, hey, Eddie. Welcome back. So glad you could join us.”

“What is so important right now, Henderson?”

“Oh you know, we were just in the middle of talking about the Hellfire schedule. Unless there’s somewhere else–”

Eddie interrupted his friend by getting up abruptly. “Yeah, hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

“Aaaand we lost him.”

Kat went back to listening to her music. It might have only been two minutes, before she saw ringed fingers tapping away in front of her. Just when she thought she could escape for a few moments. Kat put her headphones around her neck and sighed. “What could you possibly want now, Eddie?”

“Is that– Are you listening to Metallica?” Before Kat could even blink Eddie got up and sat beside her. Taking her phones from around her neck and putting them on his own head. He immediately started drumming with his fingers. He looked at her in shock, while she looked at him with her anger bubbling up again. Noticing, he put her headphones back around her neck and headed back to sit across from her. She paused the music.

“Can you just say what you have to and get it over with? I have work to do.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s real important.” Eddie gave her a look showing that he didn’t believe her. “You looked pretty chummy with Buckley. I just wanted to point that out to you. You know, in case you weren’t aware.”

“Yeah, Robin is one of the few people I can tolerate here. She invited me to some party on Friday.” 

“Do my eyes deceive me? Has Ramsay… Has she made a… a friend?! She cares! She’s aliiiiive!” He said dramatically gesturing with his hands.

“I have nothing else better to do. Might as well leave the house and get some free booze.”

“Wait…so you– you’re actually going?”

Kat sighed loudly. “Yes, Eddie. I am. Will I have to deal with you bothering me if I make small talk with random people?”

“I’ll be there. But I’m not sticking around. Just have some things to drop off.”

“Great. I’ll be sure to avoid you like the plague that you are.”

He put his hands over his heart. Shaking his head, he said “And those are the nicest words anyone has said to me all day. Truly. I’m flattered, Ramsay.” He paused to smile at her. “And flattery works with me,” he said leaning closer to her from across the table. More vivid anger was starting to seep into Kat’s features. Eddie took this as his queue to leave before she threw him a right hook or something. “See you Friday.” He knocked on the table twice with his rings as he got up to go back to his table. 

“You won’t.” She said matter of factly.

“I will. And you know it.” He walked away out of ear shot before Kat even had a chance to continue their bickering. She just shook her head and got lost in the music trying to distract her mind from reeling about what was to come.

[flowersarefreetherapy]

Capture

(a short flashback with Xander) 

CW: suggestive dialogue, creepy whumper, kidnapping, drugging, needles

The wind whistles through a crack in the door, fluttering the edge of his paper. With a sigh, he closes his notebook, resting his chin on his hand. His gaze slides up to the clock on the wall to his left, the two hands showing he has three hours left on the shift that isn’t his.

I told you I couldn’t work today, James. I said I couldn’t. Over and over again and this is how you repay me? Take my shift, I promise I’ll take the next three of yours.

He sighs, thinking about the test he should have been taking. One of the final ones for his classes. Get him a good grade, a good college, and a way off this dump of an island. And James had humiliated him by making him go to his teacher and say that he couldn’t take the test then, would it be possible to make it up on another date? Thank God she agreed, a knowing smile on her face as she gave him permission.

But if he ever does that again . . .

The bell above the door rings as someone steps in. An old lady, who goes right to the section of beer in the back of their little store. She even bypasses the candy section, which he knows is impossible for most people. Hamilton’s Discount has the largest variety of candy at the cheapest prices on the island.

Did. They did. Now, he can barely keep the water on or the electricity running. All of his paychecks for the last year go towards paying those utilities. James’ are the same way. Both of them sleep in the upstairs of the store with no lights or running water to save pennies.

It wasn’t that way when Mama was alive.

The woman comes back and he sits up straight on his small stool, shoving away his textbooks from the register.

“Is there anything more I can get you?” he asks, not blinking when she puts three cases of beer on the counter.

She orders cigarettes too. Pays. Leaves.

The storm howls outside. He taps a finger against the sticky countertop, imagining he can still hear his mother’s humming that used to fill these empty moments. When she would dance with them in the store, or in the trailer they once had. Happier moments, ones that aren’t marred by the arguments he and James seem to have all the time now.

The bell above the door jingles again. He doesn’t look up from his textbooks. This late at night, no one is interested in talking. Heavy footsteps approach the counter and he puts down his book with a smile.

“How can I help you?” he asks.

The smile nearly slips from his face when he sees the man standing across from him. He is wearing a jacket emblazoned with the local sport’s teams logo, nice jeans, and combed hair. The appearance of that of a middle-class father. But he has lived in a rough town all his life and there is something not right in the man’s eyes.

And there are two other men in the shop just like him. Nicely dressed, calmly walking through the store, and making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Can I help you?” he asks again, this time lowering his voice. One of the men turns towards him, a friendly smile on his face. It looks more like a wolf about to pounce.

“Hi, we were just wondering if there are any hotels open nearby?”

There were three. Either way the men came from, they would have to drive past one. He still nods anyway.

“Oh, good, thank you, kid.” The man runs a hand through his hair. It’s black, all black, except for a stripe of blue right down the side. He looks to be mid-twenties, and is watching him with an intensity that makes him want to puke. “I kept telling these guys that would be the case, but I guess it’s true what they say about men and directions.”

He gives a tense smile. The man moves closer and he unconsciously leans back, putting more of the counter between him and the stranger. 

“So, what’s a kid like you doing here this late at night?” the man chuckles, tracing the edge of the counter. Danger clings to him like the cinnamon aftershave he wears. “I thought the islands are famous for their parties.”

“Someone has to run the store,” he manages to say. The other two men fan out, walking through the aisles. They don’t look at the products. 

“Course, course, that makes sense. And I suppose there’s nothing wrong with having a cute face working the register.” 

He recognizes the type of smile on the man’s face. From someone maybe seven years younger, he would have responded in kind, but not with an adult.

“I’m honored.” Somehow he forces a laugh. “But if you aren’t buying anything, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Come on, Simon,” one of the men sighs. “We don’t have all night.”

“Right, of course.”

The man straightens and walks around to the waist-high swinging door that blocks patrons from coming behind the counter. He scrambles away from the man, squawking, “Hey, man, what are you-”

“Oh, why do the pretty ones always run?” the man sighs, pulling free handcuffs from his back pocket.

His blood runs cold and he turns for the other end of the counter, but one of the other men stands there. The last man blocks the front and the cigarette case is at his back. He swallows back fear and plants his feet, preparing to fight.

“He’s a runner,” the man in front of him says. Behind him, the creep laughs.

“Yeah, and how far will he get? Just give up now, darling. That’ll be easier for the rest of us.”

“Don’t scare the acquisition with pet names. Keep it in your pants and professional”

“It helps establish a relationship. After all, we can’t just jump into him getting on his knees for me, can we?”

Said knees go weak and he tries to scream, to yell for help. There’s always someone walking on the streets, even at this time of night. Just scream. That will save you. He opens his mouth and there’s shouting, orders, movement. Someone slams him into the counter, pressing the air from his lungs.

“Oh, if you don’t look like an absolute dream in this position,” the creep chuckles in his ear as hands yank his arms behind his back. His hands slide up under his shirt, sweaty and warm against his skin.

He finally screams, bucking against the men holding him down and fighting back with all the strength his small body can manage. I should have gone to the gym more with James.

“Let me go!”

“Damn, should have brought a gag for this one.”

“Oh, I can gag him, just give me a-”

“Simon, keep it for later. Kid’s panicking enough without you adding to the mess.”

He screams again as a needle slides into his arm, cold liquid pushed in his bloodstream. Instantly, he freezes, trying to slow the spread of whatever they gave him. It doesn’t work. His heart, pounding like waves in a storm, pushes the drug through his body and soon he sags, chin knocking against his chest.

“Good boy, good boy,” the creep whispers in his ear, gently picking him up like a child. A shudder runs down his spine, but he can do nothing to push him away. “You’re everything he wants and damn, if I can’t wait to play with you.”

He opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Words are meaningless, tumbling, in and out and jumbling in a mess he can’t stop, can’t control. The man’s lips are soft against his hair. Rain falls on his face. There’s darkness outside. The store lights turn off. Closed, closed, closed blinks red into the night.

Blinking . . .

Blinking . . .

Darkness.

[immortalecstasy-blog]

You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth 18+

Chapter 15/21 Pairing: Eddie Munson / Chrissy Cunningam Need to catch up? Click Here for Chapter One

When Chrissy finally woke up, she was mute. People are sympathetic at first, but when she doesn’t magically get better, she slowly finds herself as one of the ‘freaks’. Lucky for her, there’s one freak in particular she really doesn’t mind finding herself beside. 

Warnings: Slow Burn, Angst, PTSD, Chrissy still got attacked by Vecna but didn't die, Eddie still got mauled by bats but didn't die, Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Gum Sharing (Gross), I keep adding chapters and you can't stop me because these two are eating my rotten brain.

Hopper kept bringing up that she was legally an adult with no obligation to stay home. That even if she had been a minor still, there was more than enough proof to get her out of that environment. But Chrissy was steadfast. She didn’t want to bother anyone, and was convinced that if anything, she would have more freedom now than she had before. Fair enough, no one had known about her home life before, but really in the grand scheme Chrissy really didn’t understand all their fussing.

In turned out that Chrissy wasn’t actually that far off. In fact, with the cat out of the bag, Laura Cunningham had mellowed out to the point Chrissy genuinely began to wonder if her mother had happened upon the weed stash she’d hidden in one of her old stuffed animals. She suspected this new happy-go-lucky attitude was temporary, but somehow that didn’t scare Chrissy like it used to.

Eddie hadn’t been able to sit still ever since Chrissy had insisted on going back home. He’d returned to the Henderson’s because it was closer if Chrissy needed him.  Dustin’s patience was already wearing thin, and he had left Eddie to his own devices to go to the arcade with Lucas and Will.

His hands were restless, constantly fidgeting with his rings, and for the first time he actually found himself missing his guitar, missing the distraction of both mind and body, the challenge of picking out each chord from a song until he had the whole thing mapped out.

He’d set himself up in the dining room with a pad of paper and all of his and Dustin’s Dungeons & Dragons materials. He returned the adventure guide they’d already played to the box, and then started working on his own adventure, borrowing characters and settings from the various different campaigns, purposefully including some of Gareth’s favourite tropes and puzzle styles. It gave him a worthy distraction and soothed the part of him that still felt guilty about how much Gareth had been affected by Eddie’s apparent personality change. He didn’t know Wills style well enough after only one campaign with him, but also tried to throw some magic-centric sections in to satisfy any wizard.

“You want a Sandwich hon?”

Eddie glanced up to see Mrs Henderson peering in at him.

“Oh, no, I’m okay thank you.” He reassured her, smiling. It still felt really weird being mothered by her. In a nice way.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Are you doing that game?”

“Yeah, I’m, um, I’m writing out a new adventure for the kids.”

“Oh, Dusty loves playing with you all. That’s so nice.”

Eddie scratched the back of his head, feeling awkward. “I… I love it too, so…”

“I’ll make you a sandwich.”

“No, it’s really— you don’t…”

But she’d already bustled off. Grinning, Eddie turned back to his notebook, trying to decide if putting an actual dragon in an actual dungeon was a bit too on the nose. But… ‘human’ enemy who then shape shifts into a dragon? Oh yeah, that’ll work.

He was pulled out of his map planning when a plate appeared at his elbow.

“Thank you.” He said, looking at the impossibly loaded sandwich and then to Mrs Henderson. She pinched his cheek, and he couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped him. She sat down on the other side of the table so as not to upset the mess of books and maps he had strewn across the table.

It was a comfortable silence, but Eddie had always been the type to try and make everyone feel included.

“Do you think you could help me with this?” He asked.

Mrs Henderson laughed self-consciously, her hand on her chest, “oh I don’t know anything about any of this.”

“That’s okay, you can just help me pick some extra characters. I’m stuck between… a big rough fighter who’s secretly a sweetheart, and a beautiful gentile maiden whose secretly out to steal from everyone.”

“Oh, um, well the- the fighter sounds interesting?”

“Okay.” Eddie nodded, writing something down. He was actually going to be using both NPCs anyway.

“What’s he called?”

“I don’t know yet.” He admitted, and then showed her the players companion guide, which listed the various races and some common names, “why don’t you pick one?”

“Really?”

“Uh huh.”

She put her sandwich down, and started looking through the book intently, he could see a pleased blush creeping up her cheeks and felt a rush of warmth.

Just as he put his pencil down and reached for his own lunch, the front door burst open and Dustin tumbled inside, he bounced straight towards his room and then backtracked when he caught them in his peripheral.

“Eddie, we have to go. Come on.”

“What?”

“Now!”

“What’s going— “

Dustin grabbed the sandwich from his hand and put it back on the plate, picking the plate up and taking it with him back towards the front door.

“Dusty, is everything okay?”

“It’s fine mom. Eddie, c’mon.”

Eddie looked from the mess on the dining table to Mrs Henderson.

“Eddie!”

“I’ll clean it up.” He promised, following Dustin out the door and scooping up his van keys. The wheels on Dustin’s bike were still spinning where he’d dropped it outside.

“What’s wrong? Is it Chrissy?” He asked as he unlocked the van and Dustin threw himself into the passenger seat.

“No. She’s fine.”

“Then what’s going on? Where are we going?”

“Ricks.”

“Reefer Ricks?”

“How many other Ricks do we know?” Dustin snapped haughtily, Eddie mimicked him, rolling his eyes as he started the van.

“You know, you don’t have to be such a shit head. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know! I just got told to meet everyone at Ricks.”

“Oh, so you’re not being vague and deceptive on purpose?” Eddie asked, and then laughed, “how’s it feel to be on the other side Henderson?”

“Shut up.”

Eddie managed a few haphazard bits of his sandwich, unable to stop the filling from spilling into his lap with one hand on the wheel. Dustin made a grab for the other half and Eddie slapped his hand away, “mine.”

As they pulled onto the main road towards lovers lake a car fell in behind them, Eddie glanced back and recognised Nancy’s car.

“Hey that’s Nancy!” Dustin told him.

“I know.”

“Chrissy’s with her!”

Eddie did a double take in his mirrors and saw Dustin was right, Chrissy was sat in the passenger seat, chewing on her thumbnail, her shoulders hunched.

“Mike and Eleven are in there too.” He told Dustin, spotting them in the backseats and then turning his eyes back to the road. Wondering what was wrong.

“You said she was fine.” He growled.

“She looks fine!”

“She does not look fine.”

Eddie put his foot down on the accelerator, growing more concerned when Nancy sped up with him.

They pulled into Reefer Ricks almost in sync. Eddie clocked Steve’s car and another car he vaguely recognised as Jonathan’s, but he was more concerned about lunging from his van and flinging Nancy’s passenger side door open. Chrissy looked up at him and he could instantly see she’d been crying.

“Hey sweetie, you okay?”

She nodded and climbed out of the car, wrapping her arms around him, and burying her face in his chest. Eddie met Nancy’s eye as she climbed out.

“It’s Patrick.”

“Patrick?” Eddie repeated, feeling both relieved and confused. “What about him?”

“He, um, he—” Nancy started, then glanced at Chrissy, and switched to mouthing the words “he’s dead.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t miraculously grown to care for Patrick McKinney at any point over the last few months, but with Max still comatose, he was the only other one of Vecna’s victims beside Chrissy who was still kicking. Chrissy had been friends with him. He knew this would be really hard on her. What he didn’t understand was why the entire party had gathered at Rick’s in response.

Around him, everyone else seemed to have something to do, some kind of plan. Mike was talking to a group of them by the boat house, Eleven and Steve already inside.

Eddie kissed the top of Chrissy’s head.

“What happened?” Eddie asked Nancy quietly.

“Apparently he overdosed on his medication.”

“On purpose?” Eddie mouthed

She raised her hands and shrugged, “we don’t know.”

She gave his arm a squeeze with a sympathetic smile and followed after the others.

“Do you know what they’re all up to?” He asked Chrissy gently after a few minutes. Chrissy shook her head.

“Jane - I mean, Eleven - she’s checking a… a theory?” She mumbled into his shirt.

Eddie itched to find out what was going on and get out from beneath the sky. But he waited with Chrissy in his arms, moving them gently from side to side until she sniffled and pulled away.

“You okay?”

She nodded, “I just can’t believe he…” she couldn’t say the words, but she didn’t need to.

It was a huge blow to learn that Patrick was gone. She knew they didn’t know for sure whether he’d overdosed intentionally or accidentally. But Chrissy couldn’t help but think it had been on purpose. That he couldn’t cope with his new life.

He’d been doing well at his physiotherapy, had left Pennhurst to return to his parents. It had helped her to know someone else had had the same awful experience and was putting themselves back together.

What pain had he been hiding? Could she have tried more? She’d been so absorbed with her own life; she really hadn’t made much of an effort. He’d seemed outwardly fine. Everyone knew Chrissy was still broken, unable to speak, showing no improvement to anyone but those closest to her. Patrick had been different. He’d been healing.

Had it simply been a mistake? An accident? Or… on purpose? A bad day with a terrible end? Had he been planning it for a while with no one to reach out to? Could she have reached out to him?

 Eddie could see her spiralling.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t go there. We don’t know anything yet.”

She nodded, letting him kiss away the tension between her brows.

She hadn’t seen it coming with her brother either.

“Chris.”

She shook the thought away and took in a deep breath, breathing out slowly and then nodding.

“Okay. I’m okay. Come on.”

She took his hand and led him to the boat house. Everyone was inside now, and Eddie could hear arguing as he held the door open for her.

“What’s going on?” He asked over the raised voices.

Robin appeared by his side.

“Okay, so, like, Eleven had this theory about the gates, because Fred’s is like totally closed, completely, right? It’s gone. And Max… well, hers is shut too. It’s like it was never there. But Patrick and Chrissy’s are still there. There’s not much of them left but they’re there. Yeah?”

Eddie nodded.

“Well, her theory is that Patrick’s gates…. closed now.”

“Why?”

“She felt it. I don’t really know, but she… she felt something. Will too. So— “she jerked her head out to the lake. “They want to check it.”

“And we need… what, ten? Eleven? of us, to do that?”

Robin shrugged. “Well, Eleven needed a ride and she was at Mikes, and Nancy was already with Chrissy, and then Steve’s the best swimmer, and he was with me, and Will was with Jonathan, and it didn’t seem right to leave you, Dustin or Lucas out.”

“You were with Nance?” Eddie asked Chrissy, who nodded and then flashed him her nails, which were painted a pale blue.

“Very nice.” Eddie said, turning his gaze back to Robin.

“Nothing on the compasses!” Mike yelled out to the room as Eleven and Steve climbed into the boat.

“If the compasses aren’t going haywire, how are they going to find where the gate was to check?” Eddie asked.

Robin opened her mouth to reply, then shut it again, confused. “Hey! Steve!”

“What?”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yeah. of course.  we just follow the — oh…!”

Steve’s face fell and Robin laughed.

“When we found it last time. We anchored a buoy.” El explained. “It took us a while to find it, but… we’ll find it again. It was in the middle.”

“Middle-ish.” Steve amended.

More arguments broke out.

“This lot saved the world. Are you sure?” Chrissy asked.

Eddie cackled, and after a moment of shock (having never heard Chrissy say a word before) Robin laughed with him.

“Yeah, you’d think it would’ve been game over before now, huh?”

The three of them stood watching the rest of them argue, culminating in Steve falling out of the boat and into the water.

Eleven jumped up and dived in with a laugh.

“Cannonball!” Dustin screamed, throwing himself in after them.

Eddie was sorely sorely tempted to throw Chrissy in, but she didn’t have a change of clothes and he was already concerned about the precariousness of her living situation. Instead, he was the grown up that went and stole some of Rick’s towels to throw at the three idiots as they climbed back out of the lake – once Steve had finished trying to drown Dustin, and Eleven had sent an impossibly sized wave crashing down on the boat house and covering them all in a fine mist of splashing water.

Steve and Eleven got back in the boat once Nancy had got them all back on track, and Eddie joined them, kissing Chrissy’s knuckles, and acknowledging her plea to be careful.

Jonathan joined them too.

Apparently all they needed to do was to dive until they found the buoy and follow it down to check on the gate. Unfortunately, the buoy Steve had used as a landmark was only twenty feet from the bottom and the lake was fucking huge.

It took two hours of the four of them diving – the others sat along the shore – until they finally found it. It was El who surfaced and breathlessly gestured that she’d found it, and the three boys followed her back down into the depths to find the eerie orange bulb beneath the surface, grasping onto the chain to follow it down into the darkness.

Jonathan ran out of air and had to head back just as their hands touched the sand at the bottom of the lake. Steve had adopted Eddie’s invention of protecting a torch in a carrier bag and searched and searched.

Eddie too, ran out of air before they’d found anything and pushed for the surface, gasping as he broke out of the water and gulped down oxygen.

Just as his breathing steadied, Eleven surfaced, shaking her head. He took several deep breaths and dived again, passing Steve on his way down who was headed towards the surface, but paused to awkwardly hand Eddie the flashlight, both of them careful to keep the bag secure and watertight.

Eventually they determined there was nothing to find. Steve and El were both adamant the buoy had been planted only inches from the gate, and they had explored forty-odd feet either side.

They returned to the rest of the group in the boathouse. Triumphant.

The upbeat mood didn’t last for long. How could it when they were all gathered there because someone was dead? Because they were checking a portal to a monstrous alternate dimension?

“But the gate at the Creel House… Max’s gate. It’s closed too.” Dustin pointed out, looking from a still-wet Steve to Lucas. “She’s not…?”

“She hasn’t woken up, but… she’s - she’s still breathing. Or… the machine is breathing for her.”

They all fell silent; they had all heard the doctors saying Max was brain dead. Knew that Eleven had tried to search for her in her mind and come up empty. Patrick’s gate closing didn’t just give further proof to Eleven’s theory. It made Max’s prognosis bleaker than ever.

There was a loud clang as Steve kicked out, his foot colliding with one of the metal workbenches.

They all felt guilty about what had happened to Max, even Chrissy. They’d all let her down. But Steve felt it most of all. He was supposed to have taken care of them, looked after them all. He’d failed.

He’d put Eddie with Dustin to make sure he’d be okay. He’d gone with Nancy and Robin to end Vecna and told himself he wanted to look out for them. But he’d also gone because he wanted to be in the hero’s party. On the front line.

He’d left Max, Lucas, and Erika to fend for themselves. Children. Erika the youngest, Max the most vulnerable, Lucas only recently back in the fold, his loyalties only recently undivided once more. The justification that they hadn’t been in the upside down, that they were supposedly the safest did nothing to ease his guilt.

He’d left them just so he could selfishly take a shot at Vecna for himself. He’d let Max be bait. Hell, he’d let Dustin and Eddie be bait and Eddie had nearly died as a result. Dustin traumatised beyond repair having witnessed his friend – his mentor – accept he was a goner. Say goodbye.

Returning to the trailer victorious and laughing, only to find Eddie and Dustin missing, the makeshift rope gone had scared the shit out of him. Hearing Dustin’s voice in the distance, had been a relief at first, until Steve had recognised the anguish.

“Help! Somebody help me! Please!”

They’d run, the three of them. Steve leaving the girls behind as he moved as fast as his legs could take him.

“Dustin?!”

“Steve?! Steve, help!!”

He had fallen on his knees beside them, looked from Dustin’s tear-stained puffy face to Eddie, lifeless and pale, his head cradled in Dustin’s lap.

There had been no victory. Not really. Even when they realised Eddie was still breathing, a death rattle in his lungs.

Steve had still failed them. Every single one of them.

Steve lashed out again, and again. Ignoring the pain in his foot, the soothing ‘hey hey’s and ‘it wasn’t your fault’s.

Chrissy knew she’d been broken by her experience, knew Eddie still had nightmares and flinched at passing shadows. But the rest of them had always seemed to embrace the strange and cope with it. Watching Steve, seeing the anguish on Dustin’s face, Mike’s downcast expression, she realised how selfish she had been to just assume they’d all come out of it unscathed.

If Elevens theory held water, that meant Max wasn’t waking up. It meant she was gone. And it meant that her gate, the one in Eddie trailer, wasn’t going anywhere. Not until…

Eddie came to the same conclusion a heartbeat after she did, and she felt his hand spasm in hers, squeezing it tighter. She glanced at him, into the fathomless eyes staring down at her.

But it didn’t matter. The doe-eyed, adoring eyes on her didn’t change anything. This would never be over until Chrissy Cunningham died, and the final tear between this world and the world of monsters sealed up behind her.

Eddie had already accepted his own death once; she could make him accept hers. She felt another set of eyes on her and looked up, it was Will.

He’d got there too. He shook his head at her, and Chrissy looked away. Was she that transparent? What must he think of her? Or Eddie for that matter? That they would assume her final conclusion would be… what? Self-sacrifice? Or an easy way out? An excuse?

“Stop it.” Eddie whispered, squeezing her hand. Bringing her out of her spiralling thought pattern. “It’s not even worth thinking about, okay?”

Chrissy nodded and could feel the tension leaving Eddie like it was a physical wave.

He gave her hand one last squeeze, and then let go. Crossing over the floor of the boathouse to take hold of Steve’s shoulders, to make him look at him.

“Don’t do it man. Don’t think about all the ways it could’ve been different. You’ll go crazy.”

“She’s not going to wake up man. She’s….”

“We don’t know that.”

Steve snorted, “Be real. We do. We know. We fucking know it.”

Lucas was outright sobbing. Nancy had silent tears dripping down her face. Steve’s face was bright red with shame, anger, something. And Eddie had no way of fixing it. It was definitely too late to throw Chrissy in the lake and have a silly childish afternoon with his friends now.

He’s damn grateful Robin was there, even if she used one hundred words where ten would do, she managed to talk them all down or up. She even had a few dozen soothing words for Eddie that he hadn’t realised he needed. But Chrissy’s expression didn’t change with Robins little pep talk. It was like there was nothing but tv static behind her eyes. Not quite like when she’d been sucked into Vecna’s visions, but close enough that Eddie felt all the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He insisted he be the one who took Chrissy home despite numerous protests, leaving Dustin with Steve. He needed to be able to talk to her about the revelation he knew she’d had about ‘her’ gate.

He had planned on bringing it up gently, but he was jittery and on edge, raw from seeing Steve finally lose his shit.

“Will you stop letting that shit turn around in your head.”

Smooth, Eddie. No, really, good job.

“I’m not.” She lied quietly, pained.

He glanced over at her when they hit the crossroads coming out of the winding road up to lovers lake. Watched as a teardrop hovered on the tip of her nose before dropping onto her lap.

He pulled over.

His brain failed him for a moment. This wasn’t the kind of thing you dealt with everyday. But the anguish on Chrissy’s face trumped whatever rough speech he’d been desperately chopping together.

“C’mere.”

She fell against his side, burying her face against his shoulder, one arm trapped between them, the other clutching desperately at his shirt.

From the hitched in her breathing, he could tell that she tried to speak once or twice, but her voice failed her. Eventually her frustration won out and she pulled away, wiping apologetically at the wet patch on his shirt. She picked up her whiteboard, glaring at it angrily as she uncapped a pen.

‘Why me?’

Eddie swallowed. There were no words to describe how it felt, alone with Chrissy, to see that damn whiteboard in use again. “why you, what?”

She opened her mouth, closed her eyes. And then with a sigh, wiped the board clean ferociously.

‘Only one alive’

He had no idea how he was supposed to answer that, but apparently she didn’t expect him to, wiping the board clean again to write ‘One gate left’

The look she gave him as she watched him read the words absolutely fucking broke his heart. Like he’d swallowed one of those bats and it was clawing and biting its way out of his chest.

She didn’t need to say it, he didn’t need her to write it on that stupid fucking whiteboard. But she did.

‘I can close it’

Eddie snatched the board away from her, wiping it clean with enough force that he bent it out of shape, breaking the outer frame.

“No.”

Chrissy covered her face with her hands, unable to look at him.

“Chrissy, my worst day isn’t the bats, okay? Our worst day is the same. It’s you, in that trailer.” His voice cracked and she looked up to see tears threatening to brim over.

“Whatever is going on in your head right now, I need you to stop. If anything… if anything happened to you, that would be my new worst day. Forever.”

He caught her when she flung her arms around him, holding her as close as he could, the sharp edge of the broken whiteboard digging into his stomach.

“What if Vecna comes back, and the gate is still open?” She whispered into his neck after a long pause, and relief flooded through him that her voice had come back to her.

“Then I’ll go back in there and finish it.”

“Eddie…”

“I mean it Chris. I’d do it all again. Every day if had to.”