#i parked p far in an hallway and I thought if someone try to kill me now or whatever else I'm not gonna move yk i don't care bc I'm a coward

[justaholeinmysoul]

I'm so depressed and stressed I feel like crying the whole day. I swear I speak like gigi Hadid

[wtfsaidthefox]

Can’t sleep?

Duskwood - Jake x MC - 1779 words - Spoilers for Ep7!

Starts out with MC (who I randomly decided to name Sam) struggling after the events of Ep7, and Jake wanting to comfort her. Ends in self-indulgence fluff, because apparently that's the only way I can imagine Jake.

Under „read more" due to length~

Middle of the Night. She could hear rain coming down, beating against the open window of her bedroom. It wasn't all that cold, but she felt cold, even with her blanket pulled up halfway over her head. There was just a shiver going through her she couldn't shake. By now, she must have been lying in bed for a few hours, trying to find some sleep but dreading it all the same.

It had only been yesterday. Someone she had come to call a friend and care about in these last days… killed, right in front of her. It still didn't feel real. Then again, it felt like the only reality she had left. The pictures didn't leave her. Richy, coughing up blood. Richy, his face slowly growing still and lifeless. The panic taking over her, her heartbeat too loud and too fast in her own ears, that one thought hammering in her head, „do something, do something, do something".

If she'd try to recall her own actions right now, she barely could. She told the others. Desperate, incoherent syllabyles and half sentences. They went through disbelief, shock and denial all in a few seconds, but one of them managed to call the police. They had barely spoken since Richy's body was found, and on her end, she couldn't blame anything but guilt. Maybe they had pushed too much. Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she could have done something.

With a small, low groan she reached for her phone. Sleep wouldn’t come, and if, it would come with the same nightmares of last night, so she was tired of fighting for it. Anything else would do.

Opening her phone, she realized that she had an unread message.

Jake.

Between everything falling apart and coming undone, Jake had tried his best to stay calm. But it was even hard for him. ‚He must be so worried‘, she thought, ‚what this could mean for Hannah. Is Hannah dead already too, after all? Will everyone abandon the search for his sister?‘. In truth, he was worried for her.

„Hello Sam. You're probably asleep by now, at least I hope so. I just wanted to ask if you were alright. I mean, whenever you wake up. Please just let me know.“

A slight smile ghosted over her lips. Had someone told her after that first voice distorted phone call that the man under that hoodie would turn out to be such a sweetheart, she'd have laughed at them. But there was really no other word more fitting for Jake. Going through the best, most convincing „I'm all good" standard responses in her head, she noticed the little green dot next to his name. He was online. And just a few seconds later, another message popped up, he had seen her being online too.

„Can't sleep?“

„No. Do you ever sleep?“

„Some times?“

There was a bit of a break. She didn't know what to say, her thoughts a mess and her fingers shaky. Jake started typing. Stopped. Erased the Text. Then again.

„If you can't sleep Sam, I'm here for you.“

„You're sweet Jake.“

This was bittersweet, if she was honest. His care for her made her feel warm for the first time since she crawled under her blanket. But she was also at a loss for words. Shouldn't he focus on Hannah? Did she really deserve his support now? And most of all… how? How could he help her, far way, at some place she didn't even know. But she’d bite her tongue off before admitting to that thought.

„Do you want to talk?“

„You mean Smalltalk? 🤭“

Well, this sounded familiar.

„I would love to Jake, it's just…. I don't even know about what. Anything else would do, but I'm only coming up blank.“

„I'd know something.“

Oh? Now this was new. Curious, she asked him to go ahead.

„While I was in hiding, the only thing I could think of was you. How much I missed you. All the things I wanted to tell you. All the things you didn't know about me yet, but that I wanted to share. Even if I never shared them before, or couldn't even say why it suddenly meant so much to me to tell you. And more then that, all the things I didn‘t yet know about you. All the things I wanted to ask for no other reason then that I want to know you.“

He straightened up in front of his PC. Close to 2 in the night, he hadn't even moved away from his desk yet. Sleep, especially good sleep, had been a stranger to him for so long now, he had given up trying. There was always something on his mind, something to be done, one potential mistake to double check, one preparation more to make. If he was honest, most often, it was pointless. Nothing but his own ghosts from these last months on the run from the governement keeping him awake.

But this time was different. This time, the reason was right.

„You can ask me anything you want Jake“

„What makes you happy?“

Unexpected. Again. She furrowed her brows as she pondered the answer to his question.

„That's a hard one to answer"

„I know. I don't think I could have answered it myself just a short time ago.“

The implication was obvious enough, but still, she needed to hear it. Hear it spelled out.

„But you do now?“

„I do. You. You make me happy.“

She read those words a few times, with a smile on her face, aloud, or in her head in what she imagined his voice to sound like. Jake was normally not too good at reading other peoples emotions, but she couldn't help wondering if he knew how much she had needed to hear that. What those words meant, especially now, when all she was capable of was blaming and doubting herself.

„You make me happy too Jake“

„And that means more to me then I can say. But still, I'd love to hear what else does.“

„Are you planing to use that information against me?“

„Yes. Repeatedly and without fail :)“

How cute could he get? Laughing, she shoke her head and decided to just list everything randomly that would spring to mind.

„Well…. My neighbours, they have this little dog, and every time it sees me in the hallway it's all excited and overjoyed and adorable. That's just infectious. And the first flowers coming out in spring. Every year. Getting to sleep in on Sundays. Getting to hug my friends and family, especially if I haven't seen them for a long time. And seeing them smile. Oh, and you know what? Giving them a present that was just right. You know this horrible feeling of anxiety and impending failure every time you fret over what best to get a loved one for their birthday or on christmas? But then when you hit the nail on the head, and they love it – that has to be one of the best feelings in the world!“

„Of course you would", he answered to the last bit, before she could go on.

„I would what?“

„List giving others presents over receiving them.“

„Well, I'm not complaining about that either 😛 oh, and before I forget to add: parks, forest, beaches – just taking a walk through any of those. Or sitting down for a picnic and just watching the sky. It’s been way too long since I did that last. Have you done that before?“

„No, at least not for a very long time. But I would love to do that with you.“

„As a warning: I will tell you how every single cloud looks like a bunny, or a duck, or my old angry math teacher"

„What if I can identify those clouds first?“

„Then I'm impressed and you get points"

„And what do I get if I have more points then you and win?“

„An actual cloud. So cotton candy.“

She really was the only person that could still make him smile. Just like she was the only one that still made him feel like one day, he could be genuinely happy again himself. That there were people in this world he could trust, no second guessing, no double checking, no constant overthinking every word he said. Talking to her was easy. It made him feel weightless and light-headed, and he had no idea anymore how he had managed to fight those feelings for one second in the beginning.

He had started to tell her, trying to write down just what she meant to him, but in the most unfair contradiction, finding the right words for that was impossibly hard. And given what had just happened, was this really the right time?

Before he could finish debating on hitting send or not, another message popped up.

„Jake…. Is there really a chance for that? Can I really meet you, one day? Because… I wished you were here"

„I know. I wished that too. So I could be with you and support you, more then just with a few words. But I promise you, once this is all over, I'll find a way.“

Yes, he would. He had started to think about how while he had been on the run, and he knew he could make it happen. There was simply no other choice.

Realizing this again, he had deleted his previous attempt at telling her just what exactly she meant to him. Maybe the time wasn't wrong, but the how was. He’d tell her in person. He’d tell her in his own voice, looking into her eyes and seeing her reaction on his face after every single word. And then he‘d tell her again, until she was tired of hearing it.

Which she would probably never be. She felt herself exhaling, letting go of a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding in, as she read his answer to the question she had been so afraid to ask. Which she should have asked sooner, because his answer brought her more relief then she could have hoped. It was exactly how he could help her, more then anyone else, no matter where he was right now.

„Thank you Jake"

„:)“

„I'll reserve all the prettiest picnic places in all the nearby parks 😉“

„Well I hope there are a lot, so we get to spent a lot of time together.“

„There are! Though at some point we will probably also have to think of something else 🤭“

„Looking back at your previous reply, I guess I’d get you flowers next. Or hugs. Or a dog. I'll decide spontaneously :P“

[sunflowercakemix]

Chuuya Nakahara x fem/Reader

/ Part 2

Reader P. O. V

,,..... There's waffles in the air, but flour in my hair.... " I sang softly carrying a large tray of cakes from the oven through the buzz of the bakery kitchen. The warm vanilla scent embraced me from the back as I got further from the oven station just for to quickly be replaced by the crisp air filled with the sound of crackling, wisking and busy foot steps from the main baking area. I change my singing tune happily as I develop a bounce to my step, my happiness blossoming into a little flower in my chest only for it to wither away with a loud yell " OI, L/N MOVE IT OVER THERE! THE CUSTOMERS AIN'T GONNA WAIT THE WHOLE MORNIN'!"

A sour thought and expression follow from me "Wow boss you really know how to motivate, eh?". I wave my boss away placing tray of cakes on a large table and walking out of his sight.

Right as I step back into the main kitchen I go back to tending to my flower of happiness, enjoying the scent playing in my nose. "Back to work Y/N!" I tell myself.

On their own my hands start moving, picking up flower and sugar. Trough my fingertips I let my emotions flow, right into the bowl with the mix. I let the stars of my dreams and lightning of my fear melt away in the bater, just to pour it in the mold to shove it in the oven to settle.

Closing up my first batch of the day I steal a glance at the people at the cash registre. I smile softly wishing I could see their faces or hear their heartbeat when they take the first bite, to see them be engulfed in the world I've baked. A smile tugs on my warm cheek one more time as I go back to baking with a new tune to my lips to my bosses dismay.

Third person P. O. V

Black hallways of the Port Mafia building echoed with the steps of a coat draped ginger wallking through them. The shallow sound following him all the way to large doors to his bosses office.

,,... Boss" the ginger said stepping inside.

,, Ah, Chuuya-kun you're here!".

Chuuya's boss, Mori Ougai, leaned to look at him from his kneeling position from the floor in front of a young blonde girl.

Chuuya quickly bowed ,, My apologies for interrupting you Sir but you quickly requested me to come here"

Mori started getting up from the floor. ,, In fact I did. The situation is rather urgent. Some of our smmuglers have turned out to be in fact another organization stealing from us. They have stolen an impressive amount of our cargo. " He sat at his desk ,, An impressive amount that's worth over 80 000 yen on the black market"

Chuuya nodded to this ,, So what's the plan?"

,, You'll take the Black Lizard on a raid to their hideout, leave the leaders alive and bring them to me. Understood?"

,, Yes boss! "

,, Good."

Chuuya bowed again as he exited the office.

                                 - || -

,, Damn it! The sun is gonna kill me." Chuuya cursed under his breath as he walked in front of a large tunnel. ,, Oya, and underground organization? This just might finnaly become interesting." he thought with a smirk.

Feverish red glow started to appear around him, his footsteps increasing in force 10 times as he started to walk inside of the darkness of the tunel.

,, These fuckers really are about to see what it's like to be crushed by gravity. "

Reader P. O. V

The noons in the bakery were always quiet so it wasn't very surprising to see most of my co-workers lazing around or smoking outside by the park.

These were also the times I used to work on my own recepies and notes since the kitchen was mostly empty.

The soft spikes of silence were scraping on my back as I was measuring honey over a bowl. I was enjoying my peacfull time until an explosion ripped from the park.

Dropping my utencials in shock, I snap my head towards the glass door where I see my co-workers gathering outside. I hurriedly join them, shaking.

They are yelling and pointing to the park near by, all of them soon silenced by another much bigger explosion. This one being followed by a wave of red glow pushing the whole crowd away.

,, Fuck no, I'm not dying today!!" was all my shaken up brain could muster.

My wobbly legs carried me back inside, where it was crammed with people. Both bystanders and workers.

Another explosion roared piercing the glass. ,, GURL get the hell out of here!" my head yelled and I listened. Pushing out through the crowd I found my way to the back ally behind the bakery. Hiding behind old boxes and garbage cans I hugged my knees hoping to calm my heart, wich was about to burst from fear. My hiding spot smelled like shit, but my best hope was that shit was gonna get blown up instead of me.

Third person P. O. V

Chuuya sent another piece of concrete flying ,,Hirotsu, call for back up!! We're losing here!!!".

As he yelled the piece he had sent flying  came back at him full force, followed by a wave of green acid.

,, Damn gifted..." Chuuya wipped the blood of his lip. The boss didn't tell him that the three leaders seem to have very powerful abilities. Two of them being the one he was fighting now.

One of them being able to copy his opponent's attacks the other one being able to control acid. The Black Lizard was currently fighting the third one, who was able to multiply herself.

No wonder they were able to steal so much.

Chuuya kept on attacking trying his best to then dodge his own moves, plus a rain of acid.

,, This is the feared Port Mafia?!?" asked the acid controler mockingly. ,, Im surprised you even figured us out with the weak ass game you showing here!" he yelled walking over to Chuuya who was now laying on the ground. The acid guy smirked and with a whip of his hand sent a hit of acid across Chuuya's chest.

Chuuya yelled from the pain. He tried to attack again, the pain on his chest making him weaker. The acid controler was preparing another hit when a black shadow punched through the air knocking him to the ground.

Chuuya tried lifting his head ,,Aktagawa?". He didn't get an answer just an image of a man in a black coat with a blonde female at his tail shooting.

Explosions different from earlier started forming around, stepped up by gun shots in the back.

Weak from his injuries Chuuya couldn't move until a nasty blast blew him away, knocking him unconscious while the shots contuied in the back.

Reader P. O. V

My knees and my mind kept shaking. I heard screams in the far open. I wanted join them in their demonstration of fear but I also felt like I needed to do something to help. Yet I stayed there quvivering.

I shut my numb eyes, I forgot how to blink in this ruckus, until I heard another blow closer to my hiding spot.

"FUCK I'M GONNA DIE" I thought

A thud followed, I got up ready to run until I saw body of an unconscious man laying in the beging of the ally way.

,, Someone else will help him.... " I looked around for that someone then another explosion came. ,,Aaaand that someone is me!"

I ran over to him and pulled him back to the place where I was hiding.

The bangs and thuds continued to bloom all around us. I looked over at the ginger man I pulled from the street hoping he would wake up so we could run from here.

He was out cold.

I couldn't just leave him there but neither could I run with him like this , so I just hugged my shaking knees again, praying that this would end soon.

Reared P. O. V

The chaos was finnaly cleared when it was deep in the night. The silence following it even harsher then the sounds of explosions before it.

I peeped out of my hidding, I saw police helping the scared or the injured on the streets but avoiding the area of the explosions.

I heard something shuffle next to me I quickly turn to find the ginger man opening his eyes.

With a lot of effort two bule eyes started looking into me.

,, Who the hell are.... You?!?" he snapped through his teeth.

,, Ummm.... Y/N... I'm Y/N!"

He kept panting and staring at me. ,, You better not be... AAGH!!" He yelped mid sentence clutching his chest.

,, Oh my god, are you ok?!?" I ask quickly.

He didn't answer.

,, The police is over there they can help you and.. "

,, NO, not the police! Just..." he went quiet again.

I looked at him worried. "He's not dying. Is he?!" I thought. Back at the street the sight seemed to have cleared. I put his arm over my shoulder.

,, What are you doing?!?" he snaps at me.

,, Sshh I'm gonna help you. Try to stay concious!"

Pulling the man with me through the back door into bakery kitchen I helped him sit on a table and lean against the wall.

,, Where are you hurt?" I ask. He points to his chest. I'm not given a chance to say more because he just started taking of his shirt.

A blush runs to my face. ,,Stop standing there and help me out. Do you have a faucet over here?" he asks. I lead him to the faucet where he washes what I now notice to be a burn. After washing it off he bandages himself up with the first aid kid I dug up from the drawers.

,, How are you feeling now?"

,, It hurts, but I'm better now" he replies. ,,Thank you.... erghh.. "

,, Y/N"

,, Thank you, Y/N"

His head leans against the wall making his hat drape over his eyes. ,, And mind if I ask who are you? " I cautiously break the silence.

He looks back at me,, Im Chuuya. Chuuya Nakahara"

,, Nice to meet you then, and one more thing why did you avoid the police when you clearly need help?" a little bravery awakes in me as I speak.

,, You don't play around, huh? Don't worry about that my boss took care of that" a smirk grows on his lips ,,You should worry about you breaking in here"

,, Hah! Nice try but I work here" I smirk back with pride.

,, What you're a baker?". He winces from pain a little as he speaks.

,, Mhm" I answer ,,Are you sure you are ok?"

A sighs comes out of him ,,I am just... Can you help me with my shirt, I... need to get going"

I sport a faint blush again as I help him with his shirt and coat. ,,You are sure about this? You don't seem ok"

He fixes his hat as he weakly gets off the table ,, I am".

Even with that strong reply I still am not convinced ,, Like 100% sure? "

I hear a light chuckle from him ,, 100% sure, thank you again Y/N" he tips his hat towards me.

,, It's nothing, hope you get back, wherever you came from, safe. Chuuya"

As I watch him leave through the back door with a weak step I try to sink in the strange man I had just met.

Chuuya P. O. V

The plush of the pillow in infirmary supported my head as the doctor tied new bandages to my back. The burn from that acid asshole was sure to leave a scar he said.

,, A-and that should do it" the doctor said. Soon after that we heard the door open.

,, How are you Chuuya-kun?". I recoginsed the voice and got up.

,, Much better Boss"

He nodded his head and as if on que the doctor left the room to us.

,, Im sorry to be the barer of bad news but I have to tell you that the group  got away, and that the most of the cargo was either destroyed or used in the battle"

,, THOSE SONS OF A BITCH" I stumped my fist on the mattress

,, Calm down Chuuya. This is a great loss for the Mafia but if we manage to catch them we will get much more than we have lost"

,, What do you mean?"

,, This organization has been trying to overthrow the Port Mafia by making deals with other groups. If we kill them we will get the money they offered to other groups and get fear in the bones of those who belived they could beat us." he paused to look at me ,, But for that I expect to see you back at work soon"

I nod ,, You will boss"

                               

                                    - || -

I was going back from the head quarters, carrying with me weight of a failed mission. It stung even worse than that burn on my chest.

I started looking around the streets of Yokohama thinking how a nice a bottle of wine will ease my sorrows when I get home.

This was the plan until I noticed a broken glass door. Behind it a familiar sighing sillouet tapping her fingers on the registre.

I decided to drown my troubles with something else.

Reader P. O. V

It's been three days since the bomb attacks and because the bakery was the closest to the scene of crime many people have become scared to come here, and the few gossipers wich did show up were only greeted with broken shop windows.

Guess that was preety flavorless for them since they never stayed long to buy anything.

Ticking of the clock was the only thing keeping me company. For the first time I couldn't wait to get out of here. The closing shifts were never fun.

Ticking then got interrupted by the sound of the bell above the door signaling a customer.

,, Is this still open?" the customer asked.

To my great surprise it was the man I pulled from the street.

,, Oh, it's you!?"

He walked over to the counter. ,, Hello Y/N"

Damn, he even remembers my name. ,,Um, hi! What brings you here?"

I ask.

,, I noticed you on the counter and rembered you work here, so I thought I should try what you gotta offer" he replied now looking at the displayed cakes and sweets.

Light crackles through me. This is my chance. ,,You know these displayed ones aren't the best tasting ones, right?" he raises an eyebrow to this ,,Really?"

,, Yup! Sit over there I'll join you soon". I run towards the kitchen and start cutting up a piece of strawberry cake I baked with my own recepie. The one boss refused to display.

     

                                 - || -

Carrying my pride and joy back I find the man sitting at a table looking around.

,, Heree you go~" I sing placing the cake in front of him. As he examines the piece I sit beside him placing my head on my hands. Heart thumping in wait to see his reaction.

Chuuya P. O. V

I wanted to grab a pastry and leave and yet I ended up here. Sitting in front of a girl with litteral fireworks pouring out of her eyes.

,, You really love your job, eh?" I ask. She laughs ,, My, my what gave it away!"

,, Your eyes and how you litteraly jumped at an opportunity to give me this cake" I honestly reply, turning my eyes back on the cake.

She crooks an eyebrow ,, You really don't miss anything?" she smiles ,, And I gotta say you're absolutely right. But I think it will be even clearer when you try the cake. Now chop, chop!"

I listen to her and place a fork in my mouth.

I feel my eyes go wide. It's like I just swallowed a ball of melted flowers in my mouth.

,, You.. You made this!? " I ask. Her sparkling eyes were on the verge of popping out. ,, I did. Do you like it?!"

,, It's amazing!" I greedily take another bite. A smile rivaling the sun appears on her face. Warming up the room.

The cake soon dissapered from the plate wich her didn't fail to notice.

,, Would you like some more?" she smirks. I cover my half full mouth to answer ,, Yes please!"

A chuckle follows her as she grabs the plate from me.

Soon she comes back. ,, You know I'm really glad you stopped by today! Since that whole bombing incident we haven't had many customers."

Guilt starts to wash over my throat. ,, Really?"

,, Yeah, it's not that fun without customers. Seeing their faces when they eat our treats to me is the greatest charm to baking!" she leans her head back smiling.

I continue to enjoy the cake and Y/N's radiating happiness when she speaks up again.

,, By the way, how did you end up getting caught in that blast back then? If you don't mind me asking."

I choke up a little. ,,I had buissnes there".

Her eyebrow quirks again ,, Some dangerous buissnes, eh? I hope your injury wasn't too bad"

Trying to brush off the conversation I say ,, I'm fine now thank you for asking".

,, You do kinda give me the gangster vibe". I don't think she knew how dangerous those words were.

,, Anyhow, I should get going. How much will this be?" I get up from the table.

,, It's on the house" Y/N says.

,, Hah! Do you do this for all your customers?" I laugh

,, Nah, only for the ones I like and besides" she gets up from her seat ,, You gave me the positive feedback I need to get that cake on the menu so thank you for that!"

The room felt warm again with her words I couldn't help but smile myself

,,In that case I'm glad I stopped by"

I walk over to the door as her voice rings through the room ,, Come again soon!"

[arigatouiris]

daughter of artemis // p.p — [04]

c h a p t e r  f o u r

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Author’s Note: I am so happy that the notes are back~ I was so happy I updated faster than I would have. Anyway, let me know what ya’ll think! It’s slow now, but I assure you, it’ll pick up pace soon! 

Also all of what’s mentioned here (prophecy and deification) are all fictional. I made it up. So, disclaimer alert~

Word count: 3854

04 // θεός god

❅

She wouldn’t deny it, but Marina’s cooking was great. Marina was another woman in the shelter, who had discovered her cooking talents after the decimation. (y/n) wasn't particularly fond of Marina, but had to hand it to her that her cooking was good. (y/n) was having the only meal she’d have at the shelter, dinner, and it was a thick and warm bowl of vegetable stew and bread. People were starting to settle into what had happened, and although people in the shelter did not have strong families, their loss was still palpable.

Swallowing another spoonful of the stew, (y/n) sat by herself, thinking of her mother and the prophecy. On most days, this was perhaps all that she could think about; she wondered if the loss she felt for her mother was a regular feeling any child would feel once they lose a parent. She wondered, as she did so many times before, if this feeling was intense only because she was not completely human.

After finishing the bowl of stew, (y/n) was nowhere close to tired. She had trained hours ago, but her body was still up and running; no lethargy in sight.

    “Might as well have a look around.” She mumbled to herself, before letting her feet drag her around the shelter.

The place was well-built, and looked rather posh for a homeless shelter. The large banquet hall connected to the kitchen, a hallway with several pictures hung on the walls, which connected to the stairway that led to the offices. May Parker had an office there, and so did some other people who were running it before with her, and the new people who were running it now. Heading into the hallway, (y/n) decided to take a look at the pictures.

They were mostly of May and Happy was there too, in some of them. She saw the famous Captain America in one of them, shaking hands with a small girl. Some politicians were in some pictures, but what caused (y/n) to stop dead on her tracks was when her vision replayed in her head.

There was a man, a boy and May Parker. The man with spiky hair, who she had seen first; the boy whose eyes scream to her each night, someone she had learned to grapple onto for strength. Without losing another breath, (y/n) looked for more pictures with the boy, or at least the man, but that was the last of it. The brown eyed boy appeared in another picture, standing beside May—she must be related to him.

Fate had brought her so close to someone linked to her vision; everything was falling into place, everything made sense. She just needed to give it time.

Whoever this boy was, and whoever that man was, she would meet them. And they each had a role to play, just as Natasha was playing hers.

However, there was one more picture that she failed to spot. In the corner, kids grouped together, and Spiderman hung over them—the kids looked happy, cheerful to be around their friendly neighbourhood superhero, but if only (y/n) had seen the picture, she’d know that maybe, even Spiderman had a role to play.

❅

When Natasha took her to the park the next day, (y/n) knew she would ask for answers. However, even before Natasha asked, she had planned on telling her before it was brought up. Leaving Natasha to ask questions would mean there would be more information that could accidentally be revealed. By telling Natasha herself, she’d save herself the trouble of having to explain what Natasha wants to know. This way, she’d be telling her exactly what she wants her to know.

However, that didn’t happen.

    “Let me guess, you’re a mutant.” Natasha’s words were confident.

(y/n) looked at her with wide eyes. This was interpreted differently. While (y/n) was simply just confused as to what a ‘mutant’ was, Natasha assumed (y/n)’s wide eyed expression to be that of shock. Hence, when Natasha said,

    “I’ve seen your kind.”

(y/n) simply added, “I see…”

    “You’re not alone…” Natasha’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. She was thinking of Wanda Maximoff, and how alone the girl must have felt after losing her brother, but Nat was not aware that things were entirely different with this child.

    “I understand why you don’t want to talk about it, too. Your grandfather is using some… means to take care of this. You know something. You know something he doesn’t want you to know, and he’s—”

    “You know too much.” (y/n)’s voice was sharp.

Natasha sighed. Here, Nat thought she had hit the nail where it hurts, but (y/n) was secretly thrilled that Natasha would not inquire further. Perhaps, guessing that one is a mutant is far more believable than guessing one is a demigod.

A second later, the air around them changed; it was quite similar to what had happened days ago, Natasha’s wound had healed but the scar remained. One thing she was not certain about was the truth that (y/n) knew, which her grandfather wanted gone. Sending manmade monstrosities after a child marked that her grandfather was one of a kind, in a bad way, but that wouldn’t stop Nat from trying to help her.

    “Something’s here.”

(y/n) knew it was another henchman. She knew what it was, and she felt her dagger in its pouch; her eyes fell on Natasha’s arm and then back into a stance that went under observation. An aura of murder followed wherever a henchman walked, this was something her mother had told her back when they were created. She never liked them, and somehow, a part of her was happy she could get to kill them.

Natasha quickly pushed (y/n) to the right and pressed her head to the ground. They were behind a tree, crouching by the shrubs. The red haired woman was thoroughly glad that they were in a park, with absolutely no one around—the key feature of the park was that it was almost always empty, and ever since the snap, this park was long forgotten.

    “He has a gun.” Natasha said, trying to find the henchman.

    “We have to find him.” (y/n) whispered back, with Nat nodded.

Natasha knew she had to follow her own tactics here; there was no way a child could spot a sniper. However, what she didn’t know about (y/n), the daughter of Artemis, was that animals were always under her beck and call.

Turning to the top of the tree, (y/n) whistled softly, confusing Natasha who sidestepped behind another tree, aiming to spot the sniper. She couldn’t pay attention to what the girl was doing right then, she was under survival mode; and this meant that she would make sure (y/n) was safe and unharmed.

A small bird sat on the girl’s shoulder, and (y/n) quickly whispered to it. A moment later, the bird flew above the trees, singing loudly. A few more birds followed, and (y/n) grinned. She knew where the henchman was. Running in the opposite direction, she looked behind to see Natasha heading to the back of the park. Confident that the red haired woman would be fine, (y/n) run forward, to the other end of the exit, which lead to a small wilderness. (y/n) continued to whistle softly, gathering birds above her, letting her know exactly what was going on, until she could reach the henchman.

A shot was fired, landing right next to Natasha’s leg. Grunting, she looked back to see (y/n) nowhere in sight, and frowned. What is she up to? Natasha knew the sniper was in the wilderness behind the forest, and judging from where the gunshot came from, this had to be the only explanation. Heading there on her own, she hoped (y/n) knew what she was doing, and whatever it was wasn’t fuelled by impulse.

Going round full circle, (y/n) spotted the sniper, who had lost sight of her, but was carefully trying to aim at Natasha, who was still lurking near the wilderness. Breathing in steadily, (y/n) gripped her dagger strongly, before moving forward slowly. She had a clear shot, and if she had her bow with her, she’d have killed him.

Just when she was ten feet away from the henchman, a twig snapped beneath her feet, causing her eyes to widen, thus giving away her position. The henchman was large, and as he turned around, catching sight of her, (y/n) gasped before collapsing back, falling on her behind; fear consumed her, her lip was now quivering—she had never seen this henchman before. He had the symbol of a sloth on his attire, large physique, black hair and black eyes, dark skin that shone under the light. Uncle, she prayed, shutting her eyes as the henchman neared her. With one last shot of determination, (y/n) grabbed her dagger and threw it at the Sloth, who deflected it with ease.

She let out a squeak in absolute fear, recoiling from where she was. She knew she could not run, the henchman took out a smaller gun and pointed it at her. (y/n) closed her eyes, thinking that she would see her mother’s face, but instead, she thought of Spiderman.

Strange, she thought, as time stilled.

A loud scream could be heard from behind the henchman, as Natasha dug (y/n)’s dagger into the nape of his skull. The large man began to melt a moment later, turning into what smelled and looked like a muddy concoction made with blood. Natasha panted, the dagger soiled and dirty, and threw it back at the girl, who was on the ground.

    “What the hell are these things?” Natasha asked, making a disgusted face, helping (y/n) up on her feet.

She shook her head, “I really don’t know what they are. My grandfather called them the ‘henchmen’.”

Natasha scoffed, “Sounds like he’s a gang leader or something.”

Maybe that’s what he is, (y/n) thought bitterly. She looked up at Natasha, and pressed her lips together. The woman had saved her life, a debt that (y/n) could never return.

    “Thank you.”

    “Don’t thank me, kid. I really wish I understood more.”

There was nothing (y/n) could say to that. Turning to the dagger, Natasha put two and two together.

    “That dagger,” She began, “That’s the key. Or whatever it is that your uncle’s arrow was made from. The same symbol here,” Natasha pointed to the holder of the dagger, “Was on that creature’s gun. It’s weird. But I do know this.”

(y/n) met the woman in the eye, “You’re not entirely human, are you?”

The world stilled. And when Natasha noticed the girl stiffen, she smiled.

    “You don’t have to tell me anything more. Considering all that I’ve seen in my life, this isn’t too weird.”

    “You’re going to leave, aren’t you?”

Natasha smiled softly and placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ve taught you everything that I can, (y/n). Even an idiot can make out that this is your fight. I’m not abandoning you, if you need any sort of help, just come on up to the Stark tower. I’m here. But, I cannot do this for you.”

(y/n) understood. Nodding once, the girl quickly embraced Nat, who hugged her back in return. There was a sort of understanding between them at that second, which prevented her from thanking Natasha. Pulling back, the woman smiled, grazing her hand across the child’s cheek.

    “Something strongly tells me we’ll meet again.”

(y/n) smiled before saying, “Hopefully after I find Pepper.”

Natasha paused, confused. “Pepper?”

(y/n) sighed. “Remember I told you I had one clue about who my father was when I came here? Pepper is that clue. I mean, I don’t know who or what Pepper is, or if he is my father, but I sometimes overheard my mother ask about Pepper. How Pepper is doing or if Pepper is happy, things like that. So I guessed that this Pepper is linked to my father.” (y/n) said, rambling.

Natasha was on guard. There were quite a few mysteries that she had solved in the past, mysteries that made and broke peace; mysteries that perhaps, were far too easy to solve. However, none of those things had actually ever shocked her to the core—her heart did not shake with anticipation, as it did now.

While (y/n) had no idea who or what Pepper was, Natasha knew very well.

    “I wish you luck, (y/n).” She said, and walked off, back to her car. The park was relatively very close to the shelter, so it was not an issue for her to head back on her own; and considering how Natasha knew her uncle was almost always in the area, she knew in her heart that the girl was safe.

Pepper? So, the girl’s from Greece and she’s roughly thirteen years old. Her uncle is her mother’s twin brother. If I think right, then… Natasha couldn’t even complete her thoughts.

Why would her mother ask for Pepper?

On reaching the cabin, which took close to two hours, Natasha didn’t realize that she was standing with a distraught expression on her face when Pepper opened the door. Nat greeted the blonde woman with a smile, and was taken aback when she saw it.

    “Yes, I’m pregnant.” Pepper confirmed, leading the Avenger inside.

    “Where’s Tony?”

    “Asleep. He’s been staying up late, heavy case of insomnia. I made some hot cocoa and he passed out.” Pepper said, smiling.

Natasha let out a breath. “Is something wrong?” Her voice turned low.

Nat shook her head, “No, it’s just… I’m letting things sink in, you know? Steve’s been… He’s trying to cope.” Pepper nodded.

    “How are you, Natasha?”

Nat always adored Pepper’s caring quality. “I’m good, Pep. Say, this is a random question, have you ever been to Greece?”

Pepper chuckled as she said, “That is one hell of a random question.”

Nat rolled her eyes, “Answer it.”

    “Well, long ago, I think? God, I mean… I think it was over ten years ago? There was a gala hosted by one of the national art committee members, I can’t remember… But, he sure was handsome—”

    “He?”

    “Oh yes, brown hair, beautiful features, and a sharp jawline too! He looked like a freaking Greek God to be honest,” Pepper chuckled. “Anyway, it was when Tony and I didn’t get along. He’d have his frivolous paramours following him everywhere. But I do remember him trying very hard to get with that handsome man’s sister. Didn’t work out though.”

    “Sister?” Natasha couldn’t believe how simple this was.

    “He had a sister. Twin. Her name was something… It was funny, I think Tony remembers. What’s this about, though?”

Natasha was quiet.

❅

After dinner, (y/n) went up to the terrace. Not to train, but to revel in the moonlight. A small smile crept up her lips when she realized it was a full moon day; which meant that she could see the moon in all its glory. When she headed up there, she saw that her uncle was already there, looking at the moon.

    “When a God dies, they don’t disappear,” Apollo said, turning to his niece. He was wearing a checkered shirt now, with brown cargo shorts. To anyone, Apollo would appear like a handsome young man, here on a vacation. “They come into life in almost everything that represented them.”

    “So, mom is the moon?”

Apollo smiled a bit, “She can be. She can be in the hearts of the animals you talk to. In women who are kind to you.”

    “What happened? Why are you being nice to me?” (y/n) asked, confused.

Apollo scoffed, before turning away. “I’m a God. I’m nice to everyone.”

    “Go tell that to Hera.” (y/n) grumbled under her breath.

    “The henchmen are born out of Zeus’ blood. He made them using stone, and his blood is what makes them breathe and move around. Ever since there came a revelation that he will be overthrown, which was years before you were born, by the way, he’s been paranoid. And since Hera wants to remain Queen of Olympus, she whispered into his ear and made sure he created them. Three of them, each bearing a symbol. Boar, Hyena and Wolf.”

    “But, the thing that attacked me today had the symbol of a Sloth.”

    “Yes, well, Zeus only made three and they only follow his command. Hera made two. Pigeon and Sloth. You killed them both.”

    “You mean you killed one and Natasha the other.”

Apollo grunted at the mention of the mortal’s name. “Yes. So until Zeus returns, in five years, you have to train. Now that you’ve decided on going down this path.”

    “I didn’t decide anything, uncle! I just want to know who killed—”

    “Don’t you understand that all prophecies begin this way?” Apollo snarled.

(y/n) blinked in surprise, “What do you mean?”

    “There’s always a story that you begin searching. A story that leads you to your destiny. This is the same thing, it’s practically the oldest tale ever told. Be a wit, why don’t you?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes, “You’re saying that if I fulfil the prophecy, I’ll know who killed my mother?”

    “Not only that. See,” Apollo turned to the girl and continued, “Have you ever heard of Dionysus?”

    “I’m not an idiot, he’s right there in the council. Of course, I know.” (y/n) snapped.

Apollo frowned. “He was a demigod, born to Zeus and a mortal woman, Semele.”

(y/n)’s eyes widened. “What?”

Apollo nodded, “Not only her, but you’ve met Harmonia, haven’t you?”

(y/n) nodded. Harmonia is the goddess of harmony and concord. She was good friends with Apollo, but this was all long ago, after which Harmonia decided to leave Olympus.

    “She’s Zeus’s daughter as well. With a mortal named Elektra.”

    “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

    “They became Gods because they fulfilled their destiny.”

(y/n) couldn’t understand. So, if she fulfilled her destiny, would that mean she would become a God? Was she even ready to become a God?

    “That’s why Zeus is worried. It’s not because you shouldn’t become a God, it’s because of the prophecy itself. It stated that you would overthrow him as King. This would either make you the new ruler of Olympus or someone who kills Zeus.”

    “And he wants to protect his seat as King.”

Apollo nods. “Think of how the prophecy ends.”

(y/n) couldn’t forget those golden words. It was as if the words were etched in her skin. She could recollect them in the middle of the night, even if someone woke her up moments before. She could narrate them at any time of any day.

    “It says that Olympus will no longer be a land for the Gods.”

Apollo waited.

    “I won’t be Queen? I just…”

    “Your prophecy ends the reign of Gods in Olympus, (y/n). That’s what Zeus is scared of.”

❅

The world knew of Artemis’ beauty. Hair as wild as her heart, a spirit as free as the earth itself. Everyone in Olympus knew of how much Artemis could love, and how much she could resist. She loved her brother, Apollo, and rode with him on their chariot, sparring and learning, singing songs together. She loved her daughter, taught her how to hunt, how to use the bow and arrow, how to listen.

    “Who’s my father, mom?”

    “He’s a very smart mortal man, darling. I hope you meet him one day.” Artemis said, plucking an apple off a tree.

    “Why are we not with him?”

    “Because he’s mortal, love. And we’re not. He has to live his own life, dear.”

    “He doesn’t know, does he?” (y/n) asked.

She was seven years old at the time. Artemis paused and turned to face her little daughter. Pressing her lips together, she crouched down to (y/n)’s level and kissed her nose.

    “Your father doesn’t know about us and that is why he is safe.”

(y/n) never knew or understood Artemis’ logic behind those words. Whoever her father was, didn’t know about them because Artemis was protecting him. And this only meant that she loved him. That night, (y/n) struggled to remain asleep. Visions of the past, and things that have not happened, people she had not met, scared and tormented her as she slept.

She saw the red and blue flashing through New York, swinging the way he had swung with her all those months ago. He would jump often, mid-air, trying to seem cool. Looking down, she saw her own feet, but shoes she had never worn before. She looked at her hands, they were her own but were longer. There was a bracelet on her left hand, and she seemed to be wearing a black jacket.

Spiderman lands in front of her, takes her hands in his. He’s only inches away from her, she could almost hear his heart beat. He presses his forehead to hers, mask still on, and stayed that way for an entire minute.

    “You can have a life here, with me.” His voice is gentle, almost begging.

Pulling away, his hand reaches the edges of his mask as he takes it off.

Gasping, (y/n) wakes up, breaking a sweat.

❅

series taglist:

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson​, @mscoloneldanvers​, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark​, @spider-mendes​, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames​, @alina-margaret​, @yourwonderbelle​, @viarogers​​, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave​ @oliviaisnotlistening​ @mizpotatobiscuits​ @editsbyjenny​ @abbieroseb​ @justtrynagetthroughlife​ @secretlittlewonders​​ @missmulti​ @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com  @eunoiametonia​ @adistiany​ @justletmesleeptillidie​ @ppunderoos​ @myheartonthemove​ @heir2chaos​ @honeybutterparker @truthdaze 

[oliverwxod]

Bodyguard - Steve Rogers au

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, smut

Summary: I’ve done a whole bodyguard au for Bucky thought It was time to do one for Steve :) hope you like it, comments and reblog and likes always appreciated! Also its not fully edited yet so theres probably some grammar mistakes sorry!! Also let me know if you want a part 2!!!!!!

Main masterlist link in bio xx

Tony was barely around much these days, in fact Y/n can’t remember the last time Tony was around for more than an hour tops. She thinks back to her teenage years and how Tony had started to withdraw from her, maybe he thought it would make her independent? and sure it did. But she often found herself feeling neglected. 

She still needed a figure in her life to look up to. So far she had been left to work out certain meanings of life by herself. It was hard, being exposed to so many things with no one to talk to or confide in. 

She longed for someone to come into her life, she craved a certain form of attention. At this point it could have been anyone, a house keeper who she could talk to during the day, a pool cleaner to chat to and fill the loneliness that overtook her daily routine.

In Y/n’s case, this person came in the form of a 6ft2 man named Steve Rogers, who had the form of a god and muscles that stood out through his tight t-shirt. 

It was a rare moment where she got to see a glimpse of Tony. He had interrupted her daily routine of reading a book to kill some time, with a sharp knock on the door. 

Y/n remembers answering it, slightly taken aback when she opened the door widely to reveal Tony and a taller, intimidatingly handsome man who stood beside him with a polite smile. 

“Y/n.” Tony greeted a small, formal smile on his face that Y/n remembers hating. It wasn’t a smile reserved for loved ones, it was a smile reserved for colleagues and she dreaded receiving it. 

“Dad” She spoke back, making sure her tone matched his. “Whose this?” she asked, smiling politely at Steve.

“Steve Rogers” Tony replied. “The company had been receiving some threats recently and I've been advised to increase security, so Steve here will be your new bodyguard” He stated, meeting her eyes as if knowing she would challenge him about it. 

She met his stare, wanting to prove him wrong by silently nodding in agreement. This was typical Tony, making a couple bad choices without giving a thought to the consequences that followed. 

“Good.” Tony voiced when there was no objection, just a silent stare. “Steve, this is my daughter y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you” Steve said politely and Y/n could tell that although he had manners, he wasn’t overjoyed at having to babysit a 20 something year old, that he probably labeled a rich spoilt kid.

“Y/n, Steve will also be teaching you self defence just as a precaution” 

Y/n huffed at the idea. She had never wanted to be involved in any physical kind of violence so never thought it important to learn self defence skills. She supposed it couldn’t hurt. 

But she was wrong. 

Steve had her up the next day at the crack of dawn. She was woken up by a loud series of knocks on her bedroom door that she couldn’t ignore and go back to sleep. 

She trudged over, ripping the door open angrily to come face to face with Steve. He was dressed in work out gear, a bottle of water hanging loosely form his hand. 

“You ready to go?” he asked, his smile dropping as he took in her angry appearance. “Ah- you're not dressed” he spoke frowning. 

“It’s 6.” He spoke as if it were to mean anything to her. At her confused scowl he clarified. “Tony said he messaged you the time for self defence training, but obviously you didn’t receive that”

“You think?” she glared up at him, wanting to smack the small smirk he now held. 

“Right. Well, meet me in the gym in 10.” He stated rather than asked, before turning around and walking down the hallway leaving Y/n to glare daggers into his back, her eyes tracing over the perfect form of his shoulders and admiring how the tight fitting grey gym shirt clung to every one of his muscles. 

Y/n met him in the gym 15 minutes later having haphazardly throwing on a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra. She had no problem showing some skin to a near stranger. 

“You’re late” he spoke. 

“Yeah? well it’s to early for this shit anyway” she grumbled, causing him to laugh. She stared at him, wanting to see if he would check her out, but Steve seemed to be paying no mind to her. 

“Lets get this over with” she spoke, moving over to the mat in the middle of the deserted gym. 

“we will start with the basics first” Steve spoke following her over. “firstly, the best self defence is prevention...” 

“yeah yeah- I know.. always carry your keys with you, always park in lit areas with CCTV ... blah blah blah” she said rolling her eyes. She had been told it many times. 

“Right, good then.” Steve nodded. “Now where do you think the most effective places to hit an attacker in are?” he asked. 

Y/n smirked slightly, taking two steps towards Steve and invading his personal space. 

“the eyes” she spoke, meeting his stare, he watched her back, waiting for her next move, intrigued. “the nose” she said, lifting a finger to flick him on the nose, laughing as he flinched. 

“The neck” she said, trailing her fingers down the side of his neck, watching as he took a deep breath in, swallowing. “The shins” she said, her foot lifting to brush past his bare shins. 

Steve watched her, waiting to see if she would really go this far. 

“and...” her eyes met his before flicking down his body, trailing down to his crotch where she bit her lip, purposefully. She knew he was watching her. 

“okay yeah-” he spoke, taking a step away from her flustered. “good, so you know the gist” 

Y/n silently laughed to herself. 

“Lets start with how to bring someone down to their knees” Steve spoke, his eyes widening as he realised what he had just said, he didn’t mean for it to sound so dirty.

“don’t need to ask me twice” she spoke smirking. Steve flushed at her comment, turning around to compose himself. She was just teasing; he told himself. She had nothing better to do in her life than try to make someone else hell, it was the same with all rich people he thought. 

“the knee is vulnerable from almost every angle and for everyone.” he spoke, acting as if she had said nothing. “You want to kick with power to injure and incapacitate the attacker. Turn around” he spoke, his voice holding a certain authority to it that Y/n immediately found herself complying to. 

“I’m going to attack from behind” he spoke “then you need to show me how you would fight back, but going for the knees, don’t actually kick though” he instructed. 

Y/n was facing away from him, steadying her breathing as she could hear him moving closer. Suddenly his arms were around her, locking her in a strong grip, she could feel his muscles contract around her, his strength easily holding her. 

Y/n straggled momentarily in his arms before remembering to go for the knees. She managed to release his grip, turning slightly to be able to free a foot and bring it up to push on his knee in what would be a kick if she were actually being attacked. 

“Okay” Steve spoke “that was good. Just don’t kick too high, as the attacker can grab hold of your ankle” he spoke, demonstrating by wrapping one hand around her whole ankle and tugging gently. It was enough to pull her down, finding herself hitting the mat with a small thud. 

He taught her more basic techniques for the next hour until she found herself worn out and wanting nothing more than a cup of iced coffee to drown her thoughts out and boost her motivation. 

--------------------------------------------------------

Steve knocked on her door every morning at 6. At first it had been annoying but now she was up 5 minutes before, already changed and ready for when he knocked. 

“Hi” she spoke. Opening the door to reveal the bodyguard standing tall, a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tight fitting shirt, stretching across his broad shoulders. 

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded, following him down the hallway to the gym. 

Steve had seemingly become quite a challenge. She was persistent in her comments that made him flush red, but he either ignored them or laughed them off. It was becoming frustrating and Y/n was very frustrated. 

She had made it so clear that she wanted him. But she knew Steve saw her as this attention seeking kid who was spoilt and didn’t like not getting her own way. 

It was obvious in one of his comments the other week. Steve had accidentally ripped her favourite gym top while teaching her a move. She had complained, glaring at hime and pouting, and she heard him mumble under his breath that she could afford a hundred more. 

Her work out gear was becoming increasingly less modest, thinking that if she made it clear she wanted him, that he would want her too. A sports bra and a pair of short yoga shorts the only thing cladding her body. Steve knew what she was doing. She wanted his attention, but he wasn't going to give her it, he was keeping this purely professional. 

He got a kick out of how submissive she was to him. Obeying his every rule and listening intently to what he had to say to her to help her improve. 

Steve had Y/n sparring with him, she was intent on bringing him to the ground just to prove that she was strong enough. But it ended up with Steve slamming her into the mat, making her groan heavily while he hovered over her. 

She looked up to meet his eyes, pouting at how unfair it was. 

“that wasn’t fair” she huffed.

“Life isn’t fair sweetheart” he spoke, smirking. 

Y/n shoved him off her, Steve hitting the ground with a small thud beside her as she switched position, straddling Steve now. His hands moved to her waist, squeezing the skin slightly as she leaned down towards him. She was going to kiss him, it was obvious t her and it was obvious to Steve who freaked out and rolled her off him. 

She scrambled up from the mat inn surprise avoiding his eyes, too embarrassed to look at him after the rejection and the literal pushing away. 

After that training session she made it very difficult for Steve. Her comments were becoming increasingly more effective and her small touches and brushes of her hand against some part of his body was becoming parts of his day that he craved the most. 

Steve had pushed her down into an accidentally compromising position, his hands shoving her shoulders so she was on her knees, her face in line with his crotch. She had been particularly infuriating the past few days. Just last night at Tony and Peppers work party, she had spent the night at the bar drinking, Steve beside her doing his job as her bodyguard. She was talking about all the people she had slept with, telling him stories about each one the more she drank. 

Steve wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that information but he didn’t want to upset her so stayed quite, listening to her talk a load of shit that she probably didn’t remember. 

She had asked him questions to; what his first time was like, his best partner in bed; whether he had been in love before. 

All in which he responded to with the same persons names. Peggy. She forced the information out of him and he had told her how Peggy was the true love of his life. Steve though Y/n would tease him about it, bu she surprised him, listening intently and nodding, a sad smile on her face as she told him that his story was beautifully heartbreaking. 

“ you know, if you wanted me to suck your dick you could have just asked” she spoke, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes and smile. 

Steve gritted his teeth as he looked down at her, the sight enough to make all the blood rush to his groin. This was it; he was giving in. 

“Go on then.” he challenged. Steve was curious if she was all talk and no show or if she was serious. 

She looked surprised, hesitant almost as she met his stare back. His expression didn’t falter, his jaw clenched as he waited for her to make a move. 

When she saw he wasn’t joking Steve nearly laughed as her eyes lit up, hands reaching forward to fumble with the drawstrings of his sweats. 

She wasted no time pushing them down past his hips, his boxers along with them, allowing his dick to spring free, her eyes widening at the size. 

“Holyshit” she mumbled, Steve smirking as he watched her curiosity, one of her hands gripping him and causing him to buck his hips forward. 

“Jesus” he mumbled under his breath, staring as her hand moved, tightening before moving up and down in slow strokes. She was teasing him and enjoying every second. 

“don’t tease me” he spoke. 

“Or what?” she challenged. 

“Just get on with it” he moaned as her hand tightened around him again. “ before someone walks in” 

She shrugged, moving closer on her knees as she finally took him into her mouth, humming once she took him all the way down her throat. 

Steve swore several times under his breath, he hadn’t let himself have this kind of relief for months now and this moment of weakness was him giving in. He had told himself after Peggy left him, that there would never be another girl for him. 

Y/n hollowed her cheeks out, her mouth wet and tight around him as his hand found its way to her hair, his grip rough as he held her closer, urging her to take as much of him into her mouth as possible. 

He closed his eyes in pleasure as he hit the back of her throat, the feeling of her gagging around him making him lose control instantly, releasing into her mouth and watching as she took it without complaint. Always the submissive- he thought. 

Y/n pulled away, wiping her mouth with her hand before standing up, meeting his eyes briefly before glancing away as he pulled up his sweats.  

She went to speak but the doors to the gym squeaked open as a couple people walked in. 

They went back to their training session as if nothing had ever happened.

The next day she turned up to training quieter than normal. She silently obeyed every instruction he gave her and she made no comments or extra intentional touches to his body. He had been frowning the whole session trying to work out what was wrong, but she gave absolutely nothing away. Only occasionally giving him a small smile when he praised her for doing something right. 

It was like it the next day and the following after that. She listened to him intently and didn’t make any unnecessary conversations. Her undivided attention solely on learning. 

She had been thinking about everything the past few days. She had gotten what she had wanted, but it felt worse than before. She thought it would fill the loneliness that she held in her heart, but it was only temporary. Y/n had remembered that Steve didn’t actually care about her. He was paid to act like it and babysit her.

Steve hadn’t brought that day in the gym up once and she was glad. She didn’t want him to rub it in her face how it meant nothing, or listen to him tell her it was a mistake and could never happen again. 

“whats up?” Steve asked, holding still the punching bag that Y/n had been hitting before she let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging as she gave up. 

“have no energy left” she spoke. Steve walked over to her, lifting both her wrists up and making her flinch away from the contact of his skin on hers. 

“I'm just taking the gloves off” he said frowning at her reaction. She let him, watching him as he lifted her hands one by one and pulling the gloves off gently. 

“It’s more than that” he spoke knowingly, starting to unravel the wraps around her hands. 

“It’s personal” she said quietly. Steve got the message clear. She was wedging the professionalism between them, as if they hadn’t already crossed that line. 

“You can tell me” he said “I’ll listen” 

“yeah. That’s the thing” she mumbled. 

“what do you mean by that?” he asked, genuinely sounding concerned. She couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. 

“ you’ll listen, but you won’t care” she shrugged.

“I’ll care” he spoke frowning as she turned to walk away towards the gyms exit. Passing along rows of Stark employees on their lunch break work outs.

He followed her out of the gym and into the hallway to her quarters. 

“Y/n” he spoke catching up to her “I will care.” he said softly “I do care. Trust me... please” 

TAGS:

Forever Tags: @dreambigbeawesome @hellosafie @linheliano @thisismysecrethappyplace @mannls @1elboomdemsechevarria @myrabbitholetoneverland @jbarnes87 @permanent-lines @alyssaj23 @piensa-bonito @maresmiley @soldierplum @jjsoccer11 @les-bio-lie @dewy-biitch @despelllestrange @unlikelygalaxygiver @hiddles-rose @httpmcrvel @breezy1415 @artisticlales @imthegirlyourparentswarnedyouof @xinyourdreamsx @stevieboyharrington @maladaptive-ninja-returns @teenwolfbitches2 @harryngtonewithyourshit @strangersstranger @sthorkronstrangy

Steve Rogers: @patzammit

[frightgothcar]

Gayrea 51 Chapter 2: Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard this week.

Hey yall, thanks for the great feedback on chapter 1 of this fic, I’m super motivated and excited to write this for yall!! Thanks to everyone who’s encouraged me to work on this! It’s been a tough couple of weeks with me, so this chapter is a little late, but I hope you enjoy! (You can also read it on ao3 here)

Previous / Next

“Nice to meet ya, Wes. How about you go ahead and pull that lever so I can get out of this hell-hole.” Danny gestured to the control panel Wes was admiring earlier. 

Wes’ hand drifted towards the lever, trembling ever so slightly. “Wait a minute,” He stopped and lowered his eyes at Danny, “How do I know you’re not just trying to trick me?” 

Danny groaned and pressed his face up against the glass. “You have my word as a government experiment?” He fluttered his pure white eyelashes. “What, do you need a please too?”

“... Yes.”

“What?”

“I’ll only let you out if you say please.”

“Aw c’mon, that’s so stupid-”

“Or, I could just alert the guards right now.” He glanced at the control panel again before deciding on a large red button.

Danny snorted and raised an eyebrow, “You realize you’ll be in even worse trouble than I will if you do that.”

“You think I care if I die? Ha! Do you really want to squander your one chance at escape because you didn’t want to say please?”

Danny scowled then grinned, “Damn, Wes, I’m impressed. Alright. May I please be let out?”

Wes pulled down the lever before he had a chance to hesitate. All the lights in the hallway began flashing red. An alarm blared from the intercom. Danny reached through the glass, grabbed his arm and yanked him into a wall. Oh god, was this really how he was gonna go? Beaten to death by an alien? He held his breath and waited for the impact, but it never came. He cracked open an eye and realized they were outside. Danny grinned up at him. 

“Surprise!” he exclaimed before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped against Wes’ chest. 

“Oh, god what just happened?” Wes whispered to himself, his arms instinctively catching Danny and shifting his unconscious form into a bridal carry. The alarm was still blaring, it was only a matter of time before someone realized what was happening and took him out with a well-placed shot. Without giving the situation a second thought he took off, towards the gate. As he got closer to the front of the building he realized something seemed off. The previously endless rain of bullets had stopped, the noise replaced by the triumphant shouts of the mob. The gate was ripped off its hinges as more and more people flooded into the compound, destroying everything that stood in their way with sheer force. 

It was almost beautiful, the chaos of it all. But Wes didn’t have time to admire the sight. He shifted Danny in his arms and began pushing through the mass of people, most of which made way after seeing what (or rather, who) he was carrying. He felt as though he was back in school almost, moving through the desert like pushing through droves of Freshman on his way to class. The crowd finally began to thin out, giving Wes enough space to break into a sprint. His mind was so focused on getting out of there he barely even reacted when he reached his truck, automatically unlocking the doors and settling Danny inside. His door wasn’t even shut all the way when he peeled away from his parking spot, weaving through parked cars and coolers to the main road. He barreled down the stretch of concrete, at least 20 miles over the speed limit. His only thought was to get as far away from there as possible. 

Once he reached the freeway he began to calm down. He turned on the radio and fell into a sort of lull as he drove. His mind remained on autopilot, stopping to get gas once then driving through the night. Every once in awhile a memory of bloodsoaked hands or flashing lights would try to get through but he shut them out, instead focusing on the road and the static-y pop music blaring from the radio. A hand landed on his shoulder and he jerked to the side, almost veering off the side of the road. He pulled into the shoulder and glared at his passenger with bloodshot eyes.

“What?” He hissed.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, his sarcastic demeanor was gone, replaced with genuine worry, “When did you last sleep?”

Wes shrugged and closed his eyes to shut out the rising sun, “Does it matter?”

“Well, duh. You look like shit and I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be driving if you’re… compromised.”

“What do you know, Alien?” 

Danny rolled his eyes, “Clearly more than you, Human. Why don’t we take a break and then you can take us- Where are we going?”

Wes shrugged and dragged a hand across his face, “No fucking clue.”

Danny groaned, “Great. Out of all the people that could’ve busted me out it had to be you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He shot back. 

“It means,” Danny propped his elbows up on the center console and stared into Wes’ eyes, “That you are fucking stupid! What kind of idiot breaks into a highly guarded government facility without a fucking plan?”

Danny collapsed back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring out the window. The sun was just beginning to come up, sending a pale orange light across his face, emphasizing his cheekbones. It was almost enough to make Wes forget about the angry words he’d just said to him. Almost.

“Not very fucking grateful, are we?” He bit back, “ I saved your goddamn skin and I don’t even get a fucking thank you?”

“Considering you’re probably going to get us killed, no.” 

“Great. Fucking great. Well then, what’s your brilliant plan, Mr. Smartass?”

Danny turned back to Wes and shrugged. All the anger drained from his face, leaving him with a more neutral expression. “I dunno, believe it or not, I’m not exactly an expert with the outside world.” 

Wes sighed, “I suppose that makes sense… you’re right. I should get some sleep, I’m sure this whole situation will make more sense in the morning.”

“Afternoon.” Danny corrected.

“Huh?” 

“Well, it’s already morning, so if you sleep the typical 8 hours, you’ll be waking up in the afternoon.”

“Pretty bold of you to assume I have a normal sleeping schedule. See you in the morning.” Wes reclined his seat and turned on his side, facing the door.

“So that's just it? You’re leaving me, a guy you met like 3 hours ago alone in your car for an undetermined amount of time with no guarantee that I’m not gonna just drive off without you?”

“That depends. Can you drive?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Cool. Try not to die without me, see you in the morning.” Wes began fake snoring obnoxiously loud, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Danny rolled his eyes, making a mental note to get back at him for their whole exchange and looked out the window. It had been a while since he’d seen the sun, and he’d really forgotten how beautiful it was. The pictures online never really did it justice. 

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

Wes woke to a knocking on his car window. A police officer stood on the other side of the glass. A scowl painted her face, her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, but if Wes had to guess he’d say they held the same disdain. He sat up his chair and rolled down the window. 

“How can I help you, officer?” He said, anxiety twinging his voice.

“Are you aware that you’re parked illegally?” She looked him up and down, sizing him up.

“Um, well, uh-” He stuttered. 

“Actually, Ma’am, our engine shorted out,” A voice came from behind him. Wes’ eyes went wide. Not only were they parked illegally, but he was harboring an alien prisoner. They were so screwed. “Me and my friend here were on our way to a cosplay contest and got a little lost. We’re waiting on triple-A, but they’re taking a while. W- William decided to take a little nap to keep his energy up while I waited on them.”

Danny handed the Officer Wes’ phone that he had somehow managed to not only steal but unlock in the short time Wes had been asleep. She lowered her glasses to the bridge of her nose and glanced at the screen. 

“Everything seems to be in order,” She nodded begrudgingly, “Do you boys need a lift?”

“No thank you, Ma’am,” Danny smiled warmly, showing off a pair glistening pair of white fangs “We’ll be fine.”

They waited for the officer to get back into her patrol car, talk to her partner, then drive off before talking again.

“What the fuck was that?” Wes glared.

“Gee, thanks for saving our asses, Danny, you’re so brave and handsome-” Danny imitated Wes in a squeaky voice.

“Yeah, sure, thanks for almost getting us killed!” 

“Oh, really, and you had a much better plan than me how?” 

“I dunno! But you didn’t have to talk to her! You should’ve hid, I’m surprised she didn’t kill us! After what happened yesterday we have to be careful, there's probably a fucking SWAT team after you!” Wes shouted.

“As far as I’m concerned, there is no ‘us’.” Danny crossed his arms, “Plus they wouldn’t kill me. I’m too valuable. Maybe you, but not me.”

“How reassuring,” Wes said dryly. 

“Now, let's get out of this godforsaken desert!” He commanded.

“It’s too fucking early for this.” Wes groaned and hit his head against the steering wheel with a soft thunk.

“Oh, no, you are NOT falling asleep on me again!” Danny scolded, “We are going to eat some food and then we’re gonna go our separate ways. Sound good to you?”

Wes nodded, slowly raising his head and starting the car. “But before we go anywhere, you’re gonna need a change of outfits, my friend.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” Danny asked.

Wes drove onto the freeway, “Other than looking like you just escaped space prison, nothing.” 

“Well I don’t see how a costume change will make all of this,” he gestured to himself, “less suspicious, but by all means, try.”

“You really have no faith in me, huh?”

“Nope,” Danny said, popping the p. 

Wes pulled into the next exit, stopping at a Shell station. The neon sign flickered, as if it was winking at them, warmly inviting whatever visitors happened to pass through the abandoned stretch of road. He climbed out of the cab of his truck and stretched, his bones cracking loudly. Danny followed suit, swinging open the passenger door and planting his bare feet on the hot pavement, then immediately yelping and retracting them, opting to instead float a few inches off the ground. 

“What the fuck?” he murmured, staring at the ground.

“Oh, right, shoes. Add that to the list.” Wes remarked, reaching into the bed of his truck and pulling out a black duffel bag. He slung it over his shoulder and walked towards the small convince store. The glass door swung open with a cheery little jingle. Wes held open the door for Danny, placing his arm around his shoulders and gently pushing him so his feet touched the white tile floor.

“Humans don’t float,” he whispered.

Danny shifted uncomfortably, rising onto his tip-toes to regain some of the height he’d lost, “Fine.”

Much to Danny’s annoyance, Wes kept his arm around his shoulders as he guided him effortlessly past the lone employee, who clearly wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with the rather strange pair, and into the bathroom. Once the door was locked, he unceremoniously dropped his bag to the floor. He spent a few minutes scrubbing his hands and arms clean of the blood from the previous day off, which felt almost as good as a shower. Once he had dried himself off he knelt down to go through his clothes.

“I’m kinda broke, so you’ll have to borrow some of my clothes for now,” Wes said, unzipping his bag and pulling out a pair of wrinkled jeans for himself, pulling them over his shorts as he continued talking. “Though, baggy clothes might work better, considering the whole blue skin thing.”

He dug through the bag for a few seconds, then handed Danny a Black hoodie, blue jeans, and a pair of well-worn flipflops. 

“I’m gonna give you some privacy, open the door when you’re done, okay?”

“Huh? What, why?” Danny asked as Wes reached for the door handle.

He turned back toward Danny, “Because you’re changing?”

“Oh, this is a cultural thing, got it.” Danny nodded, grinning like he knew a secret, “I was worried you didn’t want to see me naked there for a minute.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Wes slammed the door shut behind him, his face dusted with a soft pink blush. He didn’t have to wait long, not even 5 minutes had passed when the door cracked open. He walked into the bathroom, the door automatically locking behind him as it shut. 

“Need any help?” he asked, trying his best not to stare at Danny’s bare legs. Apparently the jeans hadn’t been a good fit, hopefully, he was wearing underwear.

“This is stupid.” Danny groaned from under the hood of Wes’ oversized jacket. The garment covered him like a cloak, drooping around his shoulders and falling about to his knees. The heavy black material held a fairly unpleasant smell of Cheeto dust, sweat and an excessive amount of deodorant, as if someone had worn it for a few days without washing it. His antenna were tucked behind his ears, his eyes glowed softly under the hood. Even the way he walked was distinctly non-human, he almost glided across the ground, though a bit more clumsily than he had before in a pair of much too large dollar store flip flops. “Nobody is ever gonna buy this.”

Wes adjusted the hood to cover a bit more of Danny’s face, “Oh, trust me, if they’re as ignorant as the people in my hometown, nobody’ll bat an eyelash.”

He raised an eyebrow, “And if they aren’t?”

Wes shrugged, “That whole cosplay excuse was pretty smart, we could just use that again.” He paused for a minute, “Hey, come to think of it, how’d you even learn about cosplay? Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of Super Solider?”

“I wouldn’t say Super Solider, however flattering that is,” Danny’s eyes seemed to flash a tad brighter when he rolled them, “And, even though it’s none of your business, I have an internet connection. I know things.”

“Huh. Not the weirdest thing I’ve heard this week.” He shrugged. “So, uh, the pants didn’t fit?”

“I think this is as good as it gets. Wanna grab some breakfast?”

“Not until you put on pants.” 

Danny huffed, not in the mood to argue, he grabbed the jeans off the floor and pulled them on roughly, one leg at a time. He was definitely not wearing underwear. He held them up around his hips to stop them from falling down. 

“Ok, I can deal with this.” Wes thought out loud, digging through his bag and pulling out two long ratty shoelaces knotted together. “Alright, so if I just…”

He strung the dirty yellow chord through Danny’s belt loop, pulled it tight and tied it in a bow in front of his stomach. “Here, you can let go now.”

Danny released the faded blue denim, allowing the hoodie to cascade back down to it’s resting place right above his knees. The pants slid down to his hips, but didn’t sag any further. The pant legs ballooned over his feet, making him look vaguely like a toddler in footie pajamas. Wes squatted down and rolled the legs up to Danny’s ankles, leaving them still covering most of his feet, but not as much of a tripping hazard. 

“That's about as good as it gets,” Wes said, standing up and looking Danny up and down. “Ready for some food? Actually... come to think of it, what do you eat, anyway?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. I have pretty large canines, so maybe meat? I doubt nutrition sludge is very popular among the populace.”   

“You’d be surprised,” Wes deadpanned, “Ok, I have…” 

He dug through his pocket, depositing a five-dollar bill, two ones, and six pennies. “Oh, score! I think there’s a McDonalds around the corner, we can get whatever looks good to you, yeah?”

“Sounds fine,” Danny responded, pulling open the door to the single-stall bathroom and stepping back into the gas station convenience store. The attendant didn’t even glance up from her tabloid as the two of them walked out the door, only looking up once they’d left, catching a glimpse of Danny’s feet hovering about a half-inch over the parking lot. 

Wes slung his bag into the back of the truck, got into his car, and put his key into the ignition. 

“Shit!” He swore, “We’re almost out of gas. Shit!” 

Danny’s stomach grumbled loudly, “Can’t it wait? I think my stomach is eating itself from the inside out.”

Wes groaned, but got back out of the car, locking it behind him and taking his duffel from the bed of the trunk. He opened the passenger door for Danny and led him across the street. He didn’t bother to look both ways, a bad habit picked up from growing up in the calm neighborhoods and safe streets of Amity Park. 

Entering the McDonalds was like entering another dimension. Although the sun shone brightly outside, none filtered in through the large windows. The room was lit by yellow LED lights, the ones by the bathrooms flickering menacingly. A chill went down Wes’ spine. Something felt off about this place. Danny pranced inside, seemingly oblivious to the eerie atmosphere in the restaurant. 

“What’s that smell?” Danny asked dreamily, following his nose up to the counter. 

“Uh, food,” Wes answered, shaking his head to snap himself out of his trance. “Go ahead and order, I’m gonna go check something.”

Wes pressed the wadded up bills into Danny’s hand. Danny giggled like a toddler and began muttering to himself while studying the glowing menu above the counter. Wes followed, looking behind the counter suspiciously. Nobody was in the restaurant, the kitchen was completely empty. Actually, he walked towards one of the gaping windows and surveyed the parking lot. Nothing. The only car in sight was his red truck and what he assumed was the gas station attendant’s blue jeep. 

“Hey, Danny,” Wes said, turning around, “I don’t think-”

Danny was sitting on one of the tables in the kitchen, scarfing down a hamburger. He paused mid-bite and looked at Wes. 

“Whha?” His voice was muffled by the food, the action sent soggy morsels flying everywhere. Wes held up a finger, getting ready to tell Danny off when he decided, to hell with it. He had already broken the law once (or twice) today, what could a little food heist hurt? He vaulted over the counter and pulled another cheeseburger from where it had been abandoned. It seemed like the employees had left in a hurry, half-filled out orders sat in rows on the prep table. Some of them were still warm. Wes selected a two double cheeseburger meal and hoisted himself up on the table next to Danny, who had finished his burger and was starting on a large fry. He was eating it like it was all one thing, holding the wrapper and biting all the fries at once. 

“Have at least a little class!” Wes said, grabbing Danny’s wrist, “What kind of sociopath eats fries like that?”

“Me,” Danny answered, spraying flecks of fry all over Wes’s face, “Now hand ‘em over, I’m hungry!”

“Not until you start acting normal!” Wes snorted, plucking one of Danny’s fries from the container and chomping down on it. 

Danny made a screeching noise, not unlike an angry seagull and dove for the food. Despite only weighing somewhere in the low hundreds, Danny was crazy strong, easily pinning Wes to the floor and snatching his meal. He leaned into Wes’ face and hissed, showing off the chunks of food stuck in his teeth. He went back to sitting on the table, his legs crossed and one of his clawed hands clutching Wes’ burger. He stuck his tongue out as Wes got up, dusted himself off, and sat back down on the table, then took another bite of the fries. Wes stuck his tongue out in return and grabbed the second burger, wolfing it down in record time.

A siren shrieked in the distance, Wes flinched. “What the fuck is that?”

Danny shrugged as he ate a chicken nugget, “Who cares?”

Another bout of piercing sounds broke out, louder now.

“I dunno Danny, it sounds like it’s getting closer, I’m getting a bad feeling. Let’s go…” Wes began shoving food into a bag, resisting the urge to cover his ears with his hands.

An impossibly bright light pierced through the window, another siren began, right outside this time. Danny shoved another handful of chicken nuggets and grabbed Wes’ arm, pulling him towards the employee’s entrance. As they stepped back into the heat Danny’s form began to flicker, eventually turning entirely transparent. Wes decided not to ask questions, instead allowing the (invisible) hand to continue pulling him away from the restaurant, looping around about 20 black cars pulled in a circle around the McDonalds. His legs began to falter as he saw armed men climbing out of the cars, surrounding the building. One man began to shout into a megaphone. Wes’ blood rushed in his ears, his vision was blurring in fear. Danny might’ve been see-through, but there was no guarantee Wes would be getting out of this alive. 

“C’mon, Wes, pick it up, do you want to die?” Danny hissed, yanking Wes’ wrist, forcing him to take another step. 

“He’s not in there!” A voice sounded, “The tracker’s pointed over here!”

Wes froze. The man was pointing straight at him. He lifted his gun. It was at that moment he knew, he was going to die.

[taexual]

HOLIC - 7 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: suggestive themes, strong language

words: 2.5k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

          prev / next

When you got home after your lunch with May, it was nearing seven o’clock already. Even though both of you had finished two full bottles of wine, neither of you felt drunk in the slightest, so you stayed together for a little while longer just to complain about life to each other.

You ended up telling May about your roommate situation and, surprisingly, she was very calm and collected about it. You were almost confused when she shrugged her shoulders and went, “so what? You’re both adults, you can live together without dating.” You were sure the rest of your friends – although older than May – weren’t going to be as mature and understanding as she was, so you chose not to tell the rest of them yet.

Right now, you needed May’s indifferent attitude to brace yourself for coming back home and facing Jaebum – and however his date with Lily was going to end. Trying to soak up May’s maturity, you ended up staying with her longer than either of you had intended. You only got home seven hours after you’d left.

Jaebum didn’t appear to be home when you got back and you exhaled in relief. He was either still working or he’d already left for his date. Either way, instead of being upset about the fact that he had a date, you chose to enjoy your night alone and headed for the bathroom.

As soon as you checked the water in the sink and the shower both, however, your irritation from before returned. As expected, Jaebum hadn’t done anything about the water and it was still very much freezing.

Getting your phone out, you quickly texted him, not caring that he might have been on a date.

With every second that passed without his response, you were growing angrier. You were truly on the verge of going on a wild goose chase and just locating him yourself by the time your phone buzzed with his text.

You spent the first minute after you received this texts typing a long, at least, 200-word text that truly demonstrated your vast knowledge of swear words in all the languages that you’ve ever had to study, but then you deleted all of it, deciding against it. He didn’t deserve you wasting your time yelling at him, no matter how much you despised him at that moment.

If you couldn’t even take a proper shower, your whole night was basically ruined. Meanwhile, Jaebum would have a nice time on his date. It wasn’t fair and it pissed you off.

You swore your payback to him for all of this would be changing the locks of the apartment but then, once again, you decided against it. Maybe you were too kind, or maybe you just didn’t want to bother with the hassle. He didn’t deserve all of the money and energy you’d spend on this, either.

Maybe the best choice would be to just give him the cold shoulder – or completely ignore him and live as if he didn’t exist – until he actually fixed the water. Or maybe ignore him indefinitely – that was an option, too.

You threw on a hoodie, putting the hood on your head for more comfort, and then brought your laptop to the kitchen, since it was the only room in your apartment with actual chairs. You didn’t really feel like editing pictures on your bed the whole night. You could already imagine how badly your back would hurt after you did that.

As soon as you sat down, however, you ended up checking every social media you owned, instead of actually doing work. You didn’t have any official deadlines, though, so that was a relief, but you had traveled across the city last week to take pictures at this wonderful park that Hyojin had told you about, and you still haven’t edited any of them. Even if no one – aside from you and your friends – would see these photographs, you still felt like you had to make them a bit more presentable.

Although technically, the art gallery you worked in did exhibit photography, it was also one of the biggest galleries in the city so, naturally, you didn’t even dream of ever getting an exhibition of your work there. You were proud of your work – you truly enjoyed photography and, honestly, after all of these years, you could finally admit that your photographs were truly starting to look decent, for the lack of a better word – but you also had realistic expectations. It would be nice to just be recognized by a professional photographer. Getting your own exhibition was far too ambitious.

When, two hours later, you finally opened up Photoshop and actually started to work, you thought you heard something in the apartment. You figured that had to just be background noise in the song you were listening to on your headphones, but then, as you turned your head slightly, – you caught a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye and had to check if this was just your imagination, – your eyes met two silhouettes, entangled together in the hallway.

You could barely make out who it was since the only source of light in the apartment came from the screen of your laptop, but you didn’t have to think very hard to figure out who the people were.

It was Jaebum and Lily, locked in a tight embrace, their mouths on each other.

Closing your eyes as you turned away from them, you pulled on the strings of your hoodie, tightening the hood around your head, and then turned the music up so you could tune out the sound of them making out barely a few meters away from you. You didn’t really freeze on the spot as you heard them move towards Jaebum’s bedroom because your heart was beating wildly in your chest. You’ve never wished to just disappear before because that wish always seemed stupid, but, God, the things you would have done if you could have just teleported out of your kitchen right then.

Jaebum noticed you, though. He didn’t say anything – thank God for that – but that was probably because, aside from looking horrified, you also looked pissed off. You couldn’t do anything about it. Even if you’d wanted to look neutral, you wouldn’t have been able to. Your roommate was about to have sex with someone right next to your room, there was no way you were going to give him a thumbs-up and yell out encouraging words at him all throughout the night while you spent your evening working.

And then, not really having any bad intentions, Jaebum ended up not pulling Lily into his bedroom. He pulled her into yours.

After gasping quietly once you saw him do that, you tried to rationalize. Jaebum had slept on your mattress the night before, so, maybe the fact that he was willing to sleep there tonight, too – and with a girl, no less – was his way of apologizing in advance about what he was going to do in there. Not that he had to apologize for sleeping with someone. He was free to do whatever he wanted.

There was another part of your mind that considered this to be Jaebum’s way of establishing dominance by basically kicking you out of your room, but you didn’t think that was the case. Jaebum wasn’t eager to give his own room up. He wouldn’t do it just to prove a point to you.

Sighing, you accepted the fact that you’d have to sleep in Jaebum’s room again. You weren’t planning to, but he had made this decision for you. And yet, even with the knowledge that you’d get to sleep on a proper bed again while Jaebum would be stuck spending the night on a mattress on the floor, you were still upset.

Obviously, Jaebum had a successful date – you could hear the praise from Lily’s lips as Jaebum struggled to lock the bedroom. You, on the other hand? The most recent thing that came close to a date for you was a hook-up with a guy you met at a bar. It didn’t exactly end well since you were now stuck listening to him have sex with someone else.

You had no doubt you’d have to endure Jaebum brag about this the next morning, so, as you gathered your laptop and headed to his bedroom, you tried to convince yourself that the boiling rage in your stomach was only caused because he had a more successful love life than you did, and not because of a reason as stupid as jealousy.

Your alarm clock woke you up at six-thirty the next morning and you spent the first five minutes trying to convince yourself not to kill anyone. It’s become a habit by now. You thoroughly hated waking up early.

What made your morning worse – excluding the fact that Tuesdays were your first work day of the week – was the cold shower you ended up having to take because Jaebum broke something when he’d attempted to mess with you by turning the hot water off. You really couldn’t believe you haven’t moved out yet.

And then, as if going out of the bathroom with your teeth chattering wasn’t already bad enough, you walked right into Lily, exiting your bedroom. Jaebum was probably still asleep inside of it.

Before you even said anything, you noticed Lily’s wide and confused eyes. You realized that, although Lily had seen you and Jaebum move in, perhaps she hadn’t really seen you. And, judging from her shocked expression, Jaebum wasn’t very open about his living arrangements on their date, either.

“Hey,” you chose to say to clear the awkward silence. “I rent the apartment here. I live in the room next to Jaebum’s.”

Technically, the Jaebum’s room, as Lily knew it, was, of course, your room. But that was a long story and you weren’t really up for a heart-to-heart with Jaebum’s date this early in the morning.

“Coffee?” you asked from the kitchen after Lily remained frozen in the hallway.

She heard everything you’d just said because she nodded in acknowledgment but that didn’t help her feel less weirded out by this. You could tell by her eyes that if she’d known Jaebum lived with a girl – even if she’s just a roommate – she wouldn’t have gone out with him the night before.

“Uh, no thanks,” she finally spoke. “I have to go to work in a few hours. Do you mind if I just take a shower?”

“Oh, we only have cold water,” you said as you poured water from the sink and into the coffee pot.

You weren’t looking at her, so you didn’t see the way Lily opened and closed her mouth multiple times as if trying to decide what to say. You realized a little too late that you didn’t exactly sound welcoming – but were you supposed to? You’ve never had to deal with any sort of one-night-stands, or whoever Lily was to Jaebum, in the morning, not even your own – so she instantly started to feel like you just wanted her out of here.

“Alright,” she said then, lots of uncomfortable undertones hiding in her voice. “I’m going to go then. It was, um—it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” you called after her as Lily headed for the door of the apartment, not giving you a chance to offer to walk her out. Not that you were going to. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Not having bothered to ask for your name, Lily exited your apartment by herself, shutting the door loudly – by accident, no doubt – and heading to her own apartment as quickly as possible. She’d take a shower at her own place. Why did she even think showering at Jaebum’s apartment was a good idea? She truly should have gotten out of there as soon as she woke up, maybe that way she would have avoided you and your uncomfortable first meeting.

As Lily cherished the peacefulness of her own apartment, she made a promise to herself to never sleep with any of her neighbors again. At least not until she was certain they weren’t living with female roommates who added a new level of awkwardness to the already awkward concept of “the-morning-after.”

When Jaebum walked out of the bedroom, you were already washing the dishes after finishing your breakfast. You glanced at him and noticed the way his wary eyes scanned the apartment.

“She left,” you said helpfully. “I’m sure she thinks I kicked her out, though, so keep in mind to apologize to her on my behalf.”

“Oh, thank God,” Jaebum sighed, walking into the kitchen. You could still smell Lily’s perfume on him from last night and, for some reason, you had to talk yourself out of openly gagging. “I hate having to talk to them the next morning.”

“Huh,” you replied. “Never would have guessed that.”

Jaebum got your not-so-subtle dig. “Ha-ha. I’m not trying to pretend to be someone I’m not. I’m just putting it like it is.”

“A little sugarcoating would actually be nice,” you said, turning around from the sink to see him leisurely leaning against the kitchen island, reading texts on his phone. “So, you’re planning to never talk to her again?”

“Yeah,” he replied nonchalantly. “That’s the plan.”

“You’re disgusting,” you said although you knew your words wouldn’t reach their target. Jaebum merely raised his eyes to look at you.

“We never made any promises to see each other again. She knows that,” he said. “If it’d been long-term, I wouldn’t have taken her back here yet.”

It stung somehow. You had an idea that this was how some guys – if not most – operated: they saw someone they liked, and they checked how easy that someone was by taking them back to their place. In all truth, more than half of those people probably didn’t care about hearing from these guys the next morning, but there was a small number of people who did care. You were among them. Maybe Lily was, too.

“Did she explicitly say she didn’t want this to turn into a relationship?” you asked, doubtful. “I really don’t think she wanted to have a one-night-stand with her neighbor. She had to know she’d end up having to see you again eventually.”

Jaebum shrugged his shoulders. “I told her that. I said to her that I’m not looking for a relationship. She said she wasn’t, either. Don’t bother lecturing me about it.”

You still didn’t like this. But you weren’t sure if you were defending Lily specifically or if you had some sort of a personal motive to accuse him of not being an ideal guy.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you continued, “why are you so—”

“God, look,” he groaned, annoyed by your patronizing tone. “I’m not that big of a douchebag, okay? When I sleep around, I make sure the other party knows about my intentions.”

“Oh, you do?” you scoffed. “I never knew.”

Jaebum frowned. “What?”

“Whatever,” you turned around, not in the mood to get closure about the morning he left your apartment after leaving you a dry thank-you note. You were evidently still very bitter about that and just this memory was enough to make your blood boil. “Fix the fucking water while I’m at work, would you?”

“I have work, too,” he responded, his voice equally as annoyed as yours.

“Tough shit,” you countered, noticing how much you started to swear whenever you were angered. “And change the fucking sheets on the mattress in my room. I’m not fucking sleeping in your room anymore.”

“I gave you the better bed for tonight,” Jaebum said. “And this is how you repay me?”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” you turned around to give him the fakest smile you could manage. “How sweet of you. Roommate of the year!”

He rolled his eyes.

“You’re truly annoying to deal with,” he said and heard your laughter from your room as you went in to gather your essentials. He ignored it and continued, “and here I thought we’d end up bonding.”

You laughed again.

“It’s you who’s annoying. And you’re stupid, too,” you said perhaps a little too childishly and then, after completely disregarding every conversation you had with him when he was still Def – the future, female roommate – to you, you added, “you and I will never bond. We have nothing in common.”

          chapter directory

[1000roughdrafts]

Little Tree (part 2)

Summary: Being a sheriff in a small town, you were surprised when a body was found, making it the first murder in over 50 years. The alarm bells really went off when the FBI showed up as quick as they did. Despite your initial thoughts, you were lucky that they had.

A/N: written for @spnclassicbingo and the final part of this mini series (cause mobile apparently has a limit) and also, I could fill two squares so why not right? Lol. Any mistakes are mostly me, partly my phone :p

Square Filled: silver bullet

Warnings: slight angst, maybe some suspense, talk of dead body, shooting a werewolf, Sam and Dean to the rescue!! some cussing I think. sad,shocked, scared reader. This one has some ups and downs. Oh, and possible OOC Dean and Sam.

Word Count: 3.4k

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and even more so it was never her intention to fall asleep on a stack of reports in the chair of her home office. Nonetheless, she sat up blinking her eyes slowly as she wiped the drool from her chin and cheek.

She could tell by the moonlight that poured into her window that it was somewhere between twelve and three in the morning, just late enough to justify a gin and tonic. Mixing the drink her mind began to wander.

Flashes of the woman that lied on the autopsy table popped into her mind. She used her eyelids as if it were the ‘skip’ button on a VCR, pressing them down violently when the pictures portrayed in her mind, hoping that she could rid herself of the image.

“Who could do something so terrible?” she cried under her breath, taking a long swig of the drink before bowing her head. She slammed the cup into the counter and pressed her palms against it to hold herself up while she allowed herself to cry for the first time.

After a long, nearly sleepless night of deep thought, she wrestled with the blankets in her bed before standing.

Anger flowed through her every time the image of that poor woman filled her mind, and while she knew she couldn’t let her emotions get in the way it was a difficult task to ask if anyone. The more she thought about how quickly the so-called ‘agents’ had arrived, the less it made sense to her. She quickly gathered her items and sped to the station, heading straight for Deputy March’s desk.

“Mornin’ Sheriff,” she chirped.

“Morning. Any word on the press’ knowledge of this case?”

“Yep,” she said, turning the screen of her computer towards Y/N. “This was posted about a couple hours after the body was found,” she said softly. “Sunshine News is notorious around here for being nosy pricks.”

“I’m aware,” Y/N said, slightly agitated.

“I’m just saying that they probably have people spying on the station at all hours to be the first to get a good story.”

“You might be right about that,” Y/N said, heading back to her desk and pulling the phone, dialing the number on the card that remained where they’d placed it.

It rang a few times before anyone picked up.Y/N cleared her throat when she heard the hello on the other end. “Agent Burg? Could you and your partner come over to the precinct? There’s some things I’d like to discuss with y’all,” she tried her best to sound nice and professional despite her plans if they arrived.

When she ended the call, she ran over to Deputy Scholts’ desk. “Hey, get the interrogation room ready,” she whispered. “I need cameras set up, handcuffs available if need be and a couple deputy’s set up outside if I need ‘em.” She spoke so quickly and quietly that the deputy was too shocked to say anything in response. Tapping on the desk a few times, she increased her tone, “now. Come on, let’s go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, scooting the chair back and jogging to the edge of the station to follow orders.

Y/N put the smile back on her face as she awaited for her suspects by the door, tapping her feet as she watched out the window.

Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest, getting louder as the two men parked onto the street. She took a few deep breaths as she watched them walk up the steps.

“Hello gentlemen,” she said, her voice quivering.

“Are you all right, sheriff?” Sam asked, picking up on the shaking in her vocals. It was only clear to her then how much taller and stronger they were than she, but she refused to let on how afraid that made her.

“Yes, thank you. Just want to talk about a few things, if you’ll follow me this way.”

They obliged, which made her feel a tad guilty for not reading them their rights then and there. But with someone as gruesome as this she couldn’t take the chance of them running off to hurt someone else.

She picked up her folder of pictures, documents and reports as she lead them to the interrogation rooms. Splitting them up was the optimal choice, but she struggled in deciding how to do it.

She landed on taking the shorter one, allowing Deputy Scholts to take the other, “Dean, why don’t follow me in here for a moment?” She asked, putting on the brightest smile she could muster up.

The men looked at each other with wide eyes as they realized what was happening.

“Woah, woah, you’re not- you’re not arresting us, are you?” Dean asked, hands up and face cramped.

“No,” she nervously laughed. “Just wanted to chat, like I said. Sam, if you wouldn’t mind following Agent Scholts into the room just over there, I’d greatly appreciate it,” she said, smiling again.

As their breathing picked up, Sam and Dean looked behind them in hope of escaping. But by now, the other deputies in the precinct had blocked the way. Sam’s shoulders dropped down as he sighed and followed Deputy Scholts into the room.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Y/N asked as Dean took a seat across from her.

“Uh, jack and coke if you got it,” he smirked.

Y/N forced out a short laugh, “unfortunately not.” She inhaled a deep breath, “now, Dean. I did some digging on you and your brother. I know what your childhood was like-“

“You don’t know shit about my childhood, my brother or me,” she nearly shouted. “You’re looking in the wrong place, lady,” he said, rolling his eyes as he slouched back in the chair.

Y/N leaned forward slightly to accommodate the difference. “Okay, so help me out. Where should I be looking?”

“Why should I?”

“Well if you don’t want to go to jail, I-“

“You don’t have anything on us,” he sneered. “The only reason I’m sitting right here is that we’re from outta town and you got no one else to blame. Right?”

“Partly true. It’s a little weird that you show up the day of the murder. What is it? You two just peruse around the states, pretending to be agents, looking to fill this sick desire to, I don’t know… study death or something?”

Dean laughed, causing her to sit back a bit. “No, no. Look, lady, I’ve seen it thousands of times by now. Believe me, this isn’t my first time being interrogated and I’m sure it’s not my last,” he chuckled. “Your victim? She wasn’t killed by a human. The things that filled your nightmares when you were a kid? Hate to break it to you, but they’re real, they’re out there and I’m the guy that puts a stop to it.”

He was nearly yelling again, the veins in his neck poking out as he kept his eyes firmly on Y/N’s. She pondered his words for a moment. He was far too emotional to be lying, she thought.

“Why?” she said, trying to refrain from smiling.

“What?” he spat. “You believe me?”

“Not saying I believe you,” she said in a breath, leaning forward and planting her elbows on the table. “Just want to know why.”

“Because no one else will. You think cause you’re the sheriff of this dinky town you could figure out what happened to that poor girl and come out of it alive?” He shook his head, “I’d bet money the DNA you get back from under her nails isn’t human, but I’m not sitting in here, waiting for that day to come.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. Had she not seen the victim herself she wouldn’t believe him, but she knew deep down that something was amidst. Something inside of her told her that there was at least a grain of truth to what she was saying. “Can you prove it to me?”

He shook his head slightly, eyes squinted in disbelief. “What?”

“Prove it to me. Prove that this was some… unnatural being and I’ll let you go.”

He shook his head once more, bringing a hand to scratch just above his eyebrow. “I can’t do that without putting you in danger.”

The laugh that came from her seemed to jump out unexpectedly, “you think I’d be working this job if I was trying to stay out of harm's way?”

Without giving him time to respond, Y/N stood from her chair and walked with her head held high into the other room just in time to see Deputy Scholts standing to Sams side. Y/N decided to watch for a moment, soaking in Sams reaction before requesting the deputy leave the room.

“Why did you kill her?” He shouted, unintentionally spitting at Sam, who remained calm.

“I didn’t,” he said softly yet reassuringly, but the agitation was visible on his face.

“Deputy,” Y/N called, “I’ll take it from here. Go keep an eye on the other for a moment, will you?” She smiled.

“Y/N, I know it all looks but you have to believe me when I say we’re the good guys here,” he stammered, pleasing as if his life depended on it.

Y/N coasted to the chair, waiting for the deputy to vacate before speaking. As soon as the door shut behind him, she focused on Sam, “elaborate.”

Sam let out a long sigh. His eyes scanned around the bland room in annoyance as he sat back in the chair. “Dean and I,” he paused, letting out another frustrated breath. “We’re brothers, and we kind of do what you do, but instead of people committing crimes it’s- its, well in this case a werewolf,” he said, slamming his hands against the table as if to put emphasis on the words.

His eyes went wide after noticing she hadn’t even flinched. She smiled as she stood from the table and called out of the door at the Deputy to release Dean.

“Follow me, gentlemen,” she said, leading them down the hallway and back into the lobby of the office. She turned just slightly to see them in peripheral, making sure they were still behind her as she walked back into the autopsy room.

“Before yesterday,” she whispered, closing the door behind them. “I never would have believed a word out of either of you, and you’d both be thrown into that cell so fast you’d have bruises on your heads,” she said as she walked towards the table to pull out the woman’s body.

“But I’ve done detective work outside of the small town, you see. I’ve had my fair share of homicide cases, and to be honest with you, it’s why I moved here, to get away from the city. These kinds of things…” the volume of voice was diluted by the images of the horror she’d seen in her years working in a big city.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment to regain composure. When she opened them, Sam held a soft gaze on her while Dean stood understandably stoic.

“Those images don’t ever leave your mind,” she said softly. “I’ve never, in my twenty years of police work, seen this kind of case before, which leads me to believe your tellin’ the truth.” She strolled towards the woman, pulling the sheet back carefully. “I was combing through the pictures and files from this case last night and noticed that she’s got hair under her nails, too. Well, more like animal fur. I did some googling and what came up was on par with what y’all are saying.” She shook her head, “there’s claw marks right here around where the creature would have ripped out the heart, and the scratches on her face and body are congruent with an animal attack.”

“So you googled a few things and all of a sudden you’re on board with the werewolves exist train?” Dean asked dubiously raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t say I’m on board, but I’m willing to entertain the idea, yes,” she nodded, blinking slowly.

Dean couldn’t help but to laugh, the whole thing was crazier than he imagined it to be. “I’ll be honest with you, Sheriff, I’m happy we’re not under arrest anymore, but I gotta say - I’m not fully understanding the complete 180 here.”

“I -“ she started, running her hand down her arm. “I saw some things as a kid. Things you don’t forget. I always thought it was just my imagination until this case came in.” She bowed her head down, closing her eyes. “Last night… I, again, thought it was just my imagination or some kids playing a prank, but I saw a... creature outside of my window. The thing was huge, almost looked like how one would imagine Bigfoot to look like.” She sighed, “I’d had a bit to drink, so I just decided to head to bed, but woke up this morning to scratch marks on my back door.”

She glanced out of the window on the door to be sure no one else had eyes on their conversation and stepped a bit closer to the men, “you don’t think this thing is coming after me next, do you?”

Sam and Dean exchanged another glance before Sam spoke out, shaking his head, “not if we can help it,” he said.

—-

Hours after the three had left the station, the sun was setting on Little Tree. The Winchester’s and Y/N set up shop in her two bedroom cabin in the woods, making sure they were fully prepared to stop the werewolf before it could kill again.

Y/N couldn’t help but to pace along her dining room floor, the heels of her shoes clicking with each anxiety fueled step.

“Would you knock it off? You’re blowing my concentration,” Dean gasped, holding a rifle to his side.

“Sorry I’ve never had to deal with this before,” she said sourly, rolling her eyes slightly.

“Well hopefully you will never have to again,” Sam said, rubbing her back softly.

“How do we kill it?”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” Dean said nonchalantly as he peaked through the blinds of the window. As he walked back over to Y/N and Sam he raised his eyebrows, “look, this thing is not gonna just walk straight in here to get killed. Our best bet is to have someone outside, make it think they’re alone,” he said in a matter of fact tone, keeping his eyes glued to Y/N.

“We’re not using her as bait,” Sam said under his breath, taking a step towards Dean.

Dean flopped his hands against his side, “what else are we gonna do? Wait for it to kill again?”

“It’s fine,” Y/N spoke out. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been used as bait,” she chuckled softly, trying to ignore her rapid heartbeat. “I can do this.”

Nodding slowly, Sam pressed his eyebrows together before dumping a few silver bullets into her hand. “We’ll be right behind you,” he said.

Y/N closed her eyes tightly, remembering how horrific the creature had treated the woman. It pained her to even think about, but she knew she needed the anger to help overcome the fear. With a shaking hand she pulled her gun from her belt and inserted the bullets that Sam had given her.

Without so much as a word, she nodded to the men before taking slow steps out of her back door, stowing the gun back into the holster. She focused on her breathing in an effort to slow her heart rate. Saliva was building up in her mouth quicker than she could swallow it causing her anxiety to escalate.

Every movement in the trees from the wind was a threat. Every sway of branches sounded like footsteps. She kept a hand resting on her pistol and the other holding the flashlight.

The seconds we’re moving agonizingly slow, and no matter what she did she couldn’t relax until she knew the creature was dead. Another branch crunched, and that time she knew it wasn’t the wind. She flipped around hastily, drawing her weapon and looking in all directions.

Behind her, another twig snapped and in that moment, so did she. She wasn’t sure what came over her, but she had had enough.

“Come on!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “I know you’re out here. Come and get me!” She screamed again, no longer shaking out of fear but of anger.

Another snap, this one closer. She held tightly onto the gun, flipping around in all directions as her eyes squinted in search for the monster.

In the distance, she heard what sounded like two people running through the crisp leaves left over from fall, assuming that the Winchester’s were following her harrowing screams.

She wanted to curse at them, she wasn’t ready for help, but the distraction of their untiring with her was enough for the monster to take its chance.

As her back was turned to the woods, she felt bristly arms wrap around her torso. They yanked her back swiftly, causing her to drop the gun. She hadn’t a moment to think about anything.

Even in the silence of night, the soft whispers of the wind and creaming is the branches was replaced with a ringing in her ears. It was like time as at a standstill. She could just barely hear herself screaming as her feet dragged in the dirt.

When she caught her senses, she flailed about. If she was going to be taken, much like the victim from before, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. She continued to scream, kicking her legs and wiggling her arms as much as she could to free herself. She figured it must have angered the being, because her dropped her onto the ground but he didn’t leave.

Instead, he stood motionless for a moment and followed by a grunt he fell right on top of her. She hadn’t noticed the blood until the Winchester’s lifted the monster off of her and helped her to her feet. She knew that they were saying things to her, but she couldn’t tell what.

Whether it was adrenaline or fear, the ringing was slowly being overtaken by a tremor. When she was able to hear again, it seemed magnified.

Dean propped her up in a chair on her back porch. She covered her ears as his voice was growing too loud. It all had become too much.

Tears rained down her cheeks as she shook her head, “stop yelling at me,” she cried.

Dean sighed and dropped to her level, taking her hands in his own, “are you okay?” he asked much quieter than before.

She could only nod her head, she would need a moment or a thousand to get over what she just endured. The tears continued to pour as the Winchester’s inspected her body for wounds.

After finding nothing more than a few scratch marks, Sam scurried inside to grab a blanket and find something for her to drink.

She had calmed down quite a bit when he came back to wrap the blanket around her. He knelt down to her level, holding the cup of ice water by her knee.She anxiously chuckled, taking the drink in her hand and setting it on the table beside her.

As she stood, she sluggishly walked towards the door, “I’m gonna need something stronger than this after the hell I just went through.”

Sam laughed sympathetically, following her into the kitchen as she reached into the cupboards for alcohol. Without saying a word she mixed three drinks, handing one to Sam. With a soft smile she handed the other to Dean, “here’s that jack and coke you requested earlier,” chuckling softly.

He cracked a small smile, taking the glass in hand and opening his mouth to speak.

“I appreciate what you guys have done tonight, and I’m sorry for accusing you.”

“Like I said, you wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last,” Dean shrugged taking a sip.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “You know, I don’t know how you guys do this, but… I guess I’m glad you do.”

“Years of practice,” Dean smirked, glancing at Sam.

After a few moments of silence and a couple more drinks, Sam places a hand on her arm. “We’ll stay with you as long as you need to feel safe, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’ll be fine. You guys have lives to save.”

“So do you,” Dean smiled, taking back the rest of his drink.

After double checking the perimeter, the Winchester’s said their goodbyes to the woman whose life will never be the same. Although she vowed to never doubt the existence of the supernatural, she hoped that she’d never have to experience a night like that ever again.

[imjustthemechanic]

Glockenspiel

Part 1/? - Transmission Part 2/? - The Sandhill Hotel Part 3/? - Piccadilly Part 4/? - The Future Part 5/? - Too Late

Peggy did not sleep well that night.  Part of it was simply because her head was still swimming with this entire situation – not only were they in the future, they were in a future in which the sort of thing the SSR dealt with had apparently become commonplace.  Gods walked the street and people from space destroyed ancient monuments, and it was so ordinary that a stranger could tell you they’d traveled in time and it wouldn’t bother you a bit.

The other reason had to do with sleeping arrangements.  Their suite at the Wilton had two beds and a sofa, and Howard had chivalrously announced that he would take the latter.  But as Peggy lay there with her eyes shut, trying to nod off, she heard him get u p and go climb into bed with Toulouse, followed by giggling and creaking.  Peggy groaned and stuck her head under her pillow so she wouldn’t have to listen to any more.  She just knew this was the thing Howard would brag about when they got back.  Yes, he’d seen the future, and he’d gotten laid there, too!  Tosser.

They got up around five AM, to better the chances of getting back to the Sandhill ahead of Toulouse’s brother.  The hotel served them breakfast, and Toulouse talked through a mouthful of waffles – she assured them they were gluten-free, whatever that meant – as she outlined a plan.

“So,” she said, “every Sandhill Hotel built in the last ten years has a special emergency exit.  If there are terrorists or aliens or something, people like Daddy and top executives and important guests can sneak out that way without being seen.  I know where the Piccadilly one is, so I’ll go in first to check, and if Prince is already there I can keep him distracted while you two go for the ballroom and use the time machine.  First, though,” she looked them over critically, “I think you two need to blend in a little better.”

Peggy glanced at Howard.  He was dressed in a shirt and suspenders, with his tie hanging loose around his neck.  He’d had a jacket, but he’d left it draped over a railing in the Sierra bunker. Peggy herself was dressed in her white blouse and burgundy skirt suit, with a blue silk scarf.  By the standards of the 1940s they both looked very ordinary and nobody seemed to have been particularly staring at them last night – although it was entirely possible that Peggy herself had been too busy taking in the changes in London to notice.

Then she looked at Toulouse.  She had, as she’d said, hired someone to bring her luggage over from the Sandhill, and today she was wearing a jacket entirely covered with silver sequins, and a pair of red trousers with laces all the way up the outsides of both legs.  Her lipstick was silver, as well, and her earrings had enormous red fabric tassels hanging from them.  If that were what she called blending in, Peggy wanted no part of it.

“No, we’re not going to be here that long,” she decided.  “Sutcliffe said nobody notices we were gone, so we have to return in the same clothes we left in.”

Toulouse was visibly disappointed.

They were finished breakfast by six, and set off for Piccadilly Circus.  Peggy expected the streets would already be coming to life, but she was not prepared for how busy they actually were.  In 1945, London had been a crowded and dangerous place.  In 2015 it was absolute bedlam.  Cars, lorries, buses, and people on foot and on motorbikes were cheek-to-jowl on the streets and sidewalks, horns honking and voices shouting.  The Uber that dropped them off a block or so from the hotel took twice as long to get there as the one that had taken them in the opposite direction the previous night.

From there, Toulouse led them not towards the Circus, but south, to Jermyn Street.  Around the corner there was a pizzeria with a blue awning, next to the entrance to the Jermyn Street Theatre, and in between the two was a glass door that looked like it probably led to upper-storey flats.  Nobody gave them a second look as Toulouse unlocked the door and let them in, but Peggy was still grateful for the large delivery lorry parked by the curb, blocking the view from the street.  Any HYDRA operatives hiding in the surrounding buildings would be able to guess where they’d gone, but not prove it.

The door did open on a staircase to upper-storey flats – but there was also a flight going down, which the residents probably never thought much about. Toulouse led them down that an unlocked another door at the bottom.  This one had a sign on it that said Custodial, but it actually opened on a dark hallway.  Toulouse flipped a switch, and the ceiling lights came on.

The tunnel was able to take a more direct route to the hotel basement than the tangle of streets on the surface, and was therefore only a couple of hundred yards long.  Their footsteps echoed off the concrete walls, but not so loudly that Peggy couldn’t hear the traffic passing overhead, or the rumble beneath when they came near the tube station.  There was a gentle slope down as they approached the door at the far end – and then they realized it was standing ajar.

Toulouse held a hand out to tell Peggy and Howard to stop, and inched forward.  “That’s not right,” she said.  “Nobody’s supposed to know this is here.  You two wait.”  She carefully opened the door, and slipped through ahead of them.  “Hello!” she called out.

“Ousie?” asked a voice.

“Prince!” Toulouse exclaimed.  “Geeze, you’re here early!”

“Dad said you told him there was a conspiracy in here, and the police said there’s a bomb,” the voice that must belong to Prince Sandhill replied.  “Of course I came early!  You shouldn’t be here.  I thought you’d said you were leaving because it was dangerous.”

“There’s no bomb, just cows,” said Toulouse.  “I didn’t think the police would take me seriously if I said there were cows.”

“You called the police because of a cow?”

“Cows!  Plural! Lots of them!” Toulouse said.  “You see that?  What do you think left that?  People don’t just go around pooping in the hallways!”

“Ousie, Ousie,” Prince said.  “What are you doing here?  Why are you sneaking in?”

“I came to get my laptop.  I was keeping it in the walk-in safe because I was worried the electricians would have a key to the rooms and I didn’t want them stealing my thesis,” she replied.  “The police wouldn’t let me in the front.”  The sound of her voice was growing fainter as she led Prince away from the tunnel.

“Of course they wouldn’t.  You told them there’s a bomb,” said Prince.

Toulouse replied to that, but Peggy couldn’t make out the words.  It seemed Prince Sandhill had been successfully distracted.

Peggy opened the door a little further, and found herself looking at a line of wooden and metal coat hangers on a road.  They were in the downstairs coat check.  She ducked so as not to knock her head, stepped out, and crept across the room.  At the front of it was a counter with a wooden grille pulled down over the opening, and next to that was a door, standing open, with a staff only sign on it.  She poked her head out of that, and saw three sets of frosted glass doors across the hall, with yellow police tape across them.  That had to be the basement ballroom.  They were almost there.

“Shit!” Howard said suddenly.

Peggy whirled around, but found him unhurt and inspecting the bottom of his shoe.  The exclamation had been literal – as Toulouse had pointed out, there was evidence of the cows lying around, and Howard had just stepped in some of it.

“Next time that happens, stay quiet,” Peggy ordered him.  “I thought somebody was pointing a gun at us!”

“You always think somebody’s pointing a gun at us,” Howard replied.  He scraped his shoe off on a piece of moulding.

Peggy carefully peeled away the police tape and, moving very slowly so as to make no noise, opened the door.  The lights were already on inside, so she could see at once that the room was empty.  There was no machine, no people – not even a single cow.

Behind her, Howard leaned to look over her shoulder, and she could hear his sharp intake of breath as he saw the same thing. Peggy stared a moment longer to make absolutely sure she wasn’t seeing things, and then softly closed the door again.

“Let’s get out of here,” she told Howard.

He nodded.  Peggy put the tape back in place, and they slipped back into the secret exit tunnel.  This time they managed not to step in any cow pies on the way.

“They probably started taking it apart the moment they realized we’d escaped,” Howard said as they made their way back.  “They’ve had all night – they’ll have broken it down into parts and gone.”  

In retrospect, Peggy had to agree.  She and Howard might be stranded in another time, but she was sure Zola had some respect for their abilities after they’d already tracked him down once.  If the HYDRA men had made the connection that the hotel owner’s daughter had left at about the same time, they would have every reason to decide to cut and run.

“I wonder if that’s why the passage was already open,” Peggy said.  “It could have been Prince, of course, but being as it’s right across from the ballroom like that, it would be the easiest way to get things in and out.”

“So somebody would have to tell them about it,” said Howard.

“Or they discovered it for themselves, but being told is more likely.”  Peggy’s suspicions went immediately to Prince, which meant that Toulouse couldn’t be trusted, either.  The young woman had been awfully eager to help a pair of complete strangers who were telling an objectively unbelievable story.

Howard was thinking along the same lines.  “That means Toulouse…”

“I’m afraid so,” said Peggy.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d slept with a woman who wanted kill him.  It probably wouldn’t be the last, either.

They climbed the stairs at the other end of the tunnel and rounded the corner – and through the glass doors that led out to the street, Peggy saw the delivery lorry pull away.  A man in a gray uniform was lowering the back grate.

Peggy froze.  Bloody hell – how had she not made the connection?

A half-second later she snapped out of it and threw herself against the outside door, expecting it to open.  It did not – there was an internal latch that had to be turned first.  Swearing under her breath, Peggy opened it and darted out onto the street.  The lorry was still visible, so she ran after it.

The thick morning traffic allowed her to keep it in sight for a block or so, but then it started pulling ahead, and soon got lost among the crowd of other vehicles.  Peggy stopped and leaned on her knees, gasping to catch her breath.

Howard came puffing up behind her and stopped with a hand on her back, whether to comfort her or to keep his own balance she couldn’t tell.  “Lost them?”

“What does it look like?” Peggy demanded – and then a roar of engines directed her attention up.  An airplane was flying over.  Like everything else in this future, it was an unusual shape, longer and thinner in both body and wings than the ones she knew, and with no propellers.  She had no reference for its size, but it looked low and large, as if it were coming in for a landing.

The airport, Peggy thought.  If she were facing west on Jermyn Street, then the Lorry had gone in the right direction for the new London Airport.  Although seventy years in the future it, like so many other things, would no longer be new.

“They’re leaving the country,” she realized.

“And we can’t catch up with them,” Howard said. He was right again – they had nothing but the clothes on their backs and the coins in their pockets.  Peggy had set her purse down on the steps in the Sierra bunker before climbing onto the platform with Howard.  Like his jacket, it could not be retrieved.  Even if they could follow the HYDRA men wherever they were going, Peggy and Howard were unarmed, and there were only the two of them.

“Looks like you may have to build the bloody thing from scratch after all,” she said.

Across the street from the secret tunnel was a Starbucks coffee shop.  Peggy and Howard went back there and sat at a table by the window, hoping to see Toulouse come out.  They still worried she wasn’t trustworthy, but they had nothing else: no money, no identification, no friends or colleagues they could call.  Peggy had never felt quite so underequipped before in her life.

Howard, on the other hand, seemed to be taking up the challenge.  He’d torn a page out of somebody’s discarded book of number puzzles, pulled a pen out of his pocket, and was now making notes.  “Whatever I build is going to have to be compatible with their receiving platform,” he observed.  “Since I don’t just have one I can use in 1948.  And we’ll have to aim for a time when we know it’s still in the bunker, because we don’t know if it’ll get deactivated or taken apart later.  So as soon as possible after we left.  To the hundredth of a second, if we can.”

“Sutcliffe said they won’t even notice we’re gone,” Peggy recalled, “so yes, hopefully history will bear him out on that.”

“What I’m wondering is about their power source,” Howard said.  “Was it those crystals, or was it the power they were sucking out of the grid?  If it’s the grid, what are the crystals for?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Peggy sighed. Though she had to wonder… what had happened to the machine the SSR had found in 1948?  They surely wouldn’t have scrapped it, especially if Peggy and Howard had stepped off of it again with a fantastic story to tell.

“Fortunately,” Howard went on, “I already know some of the component parts.

A flash of silver out the window caught Peggy’s eye.  She stood up. “There’s Toulouse!” she exclaimed, and started waving.  It didn’t take the other woman long to spot her, and a minute later Toulouse had crossed the street and was hurrying into the shop.

“Here you are!” she said, pulling a chair over to join them at their table.  “The time machine’s gone!  I kept Prince distracted for about half an hour and then he got tired of me and went back downstairs.  When I looked in the ballroom you guys were gone, and so was the thing.  At first I thought you took it with you, but from what you said I didn’t think it worked that way.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Peggy said.  The platform they’d arrived on was definitely different than the one that had transmitted them.  “We think they may have taken it to the airport to get it out of the country. However, now that you’re here, I have an idea how we might build our own.”  It didn’t matter if they wanted to trust Toulouse or not.  They were going to need her help with this, because she had money and they did not.

[stopforamoment]

Nothing New Pussycat (See You Next Tuesday)

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks Word Count: 3,571 Rating: R for Language and Adult Situations TRIGGERS: Unwanted sexual contact, discussion of rape, rape culture, male dominance, use of the P and C words for female genitals, C in a derogatory way “Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.” Margaret Atwood

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this. This was inspired by @kennaxval’s story The Queens of Stormholt part 5: Kenna’s Choice (NSFW) and by Hulu/Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale. I’ve been catching up on episodes this past week! This takes place the second week of the school year, in September.

Crackpot Ear Worm: Tom Jones “What’s New Pussycat” 

He was a rich, arrogant, helicopter parent whose son did nothing wrong. He also didn’t give a fuck about his marriage vows, and he thought it would be an interesting challenge to conquer the American widow who wouldn’t take off her wedding ring. At first Rinda was oblivious. She was used to dealing with helicopter parents, and she assumed his false flattery was the first step toward getting his son out of an after-school detention that Rinda gave him. As annoying as that was, Rinda preferred that to what usually came next. The incessant badgering and, eventually, threats. Rinda sighed. Time to draw upon her professionalism and boilerplate commentary to get through this one-on-one meeting that he insisted upon. Rinda had been married, and to a police officer, so she was relatively safe for over 10 years. But she got complacent, thinking she would be respected at least for her status as a mother and widow, with the added bonus that she was in her 40s and past her prime. She honestly thought that sex would no longer be used as a weapon against her. Her gender, yes. Always. But sex? Well, maybe unconsciously. Okay, yes. She knew. But she had hoped that sex couldn’t still be used as a weapon against her. That was a small part of why she still wore her wedding ring and kept her married name. Most people would take the hint and know that she should be left the fuck alone. But she truly wasn’t prepared to deal with all of that bullshit again. . . . . .

Rinda was a warrior preparing for battle. She took the time to move her desk so she could sit behind it. That was a Power Move 101. She preferred to keep her desk against a wall because it took up less space, it was easier to throw her squish ball against the wall, and it was just easier to work with the children who needed to sit next to her when she tutored him. But not for this meeting. Bastien and Julian offered to help her move the desk, but Laura just laughed and told them to get the fuck lost. Rinda was in her woman hear me roar mode, and she didn’t need a man’s help. Although as soon as they left she did need to meekly ask Laura for help. Then she strategically placed chairs on the other side of her desk. Laura had to take her dad to a doctor’s appointment, so she wouldn’t be in the room. But Julian and Bastien would be in their rooms, ready to rescue Rinda if necessary. And Julian and his husband Theo would take her out for a drink afterward so she could defrag and repeat every wicked one-liner that she wanted to say but couldn’t. . . . . . He walked into her room, unannounced and 20 minutes early, which Rinda was expecting. But she was still helping another student. And of course, she was sitting next to the student, in another student desk, so she could help her. Rinda stayed seated in the too-small chair, looking up at the father and calmly asking to come back in 10 minutes, when she was finished helping her student. When it’s actually your appointment time. He informed Rinda that he was a busy man and his time was valuable. Right, so that’s why you’re 20 minutes early and harassing me when you could just wait in the hall and check emails or something. Professional Mrs. Parks nodded and related to that. She was also very busy, especially right now, and the sooner she could get back to helping her student the sooner she could begin their appointment. But he wasn’t leaving. She extricated herself from the student desk as gracefully as possible, calmly walking up to him, trying not to flinch. She hated doing that. Approaching someone simply to assert herself. She was 5’3” and really, if he refused to leave what could she do? Call in Bastien to escort him out? God, how humiliating. Needing help from the freaking head of security because there was a rude asshole who refused to leave her room. A man who was being shitty because she was a woman and there wasn’t much she could do about it. Remember, Rinda. You’re white. You’re cis. You’re straight. You’ve had amazing educational opportunities, and you’re comfortably middle class. Other people who deal with this shit have less privilege than you.

He ogled her. No other word to explain it. She stood and took it, hoping her body language didn’t betray her fear and anger. Even though she wore loose clothing and no makeup, it didn’t matter. Even if he was really thinking about last night’s football game while simply pretending to undress her with his eyes as a way to intimidate her, it didn’t matter. He was sizing her up, sexualizing her, dismissing her as a professional with post-college degrees and years of teaching experience. Every woman, every person who has been de-humanized, denigrated, and disparaged, has a way to cope with it. They have a plan in place to ensure their literal survival. When Rinda was younger she swore that she would go down fighting. That she would rather die than let it happen to her. Again. But now that she was older, a mother with a son who didn’t have a father, it was different. There was a lot more that she was willing to take if it meant she could come home to Henry when it was over. And really, being in your 40s with a wedding ring and a kid did make life easier. You were overlooked a lot. What a blessing. But not now. Now she was targeted. But fortunately he chose to wait in the hallway, and Rinda only hoped the young girl who was patiently waiting for Mrs. Parks wouldn’t subconsciously remember this incident. The time when her female teacher, the adult in charge, was challenged just because a man wanted to. Just because he could. . . . . .

When Rinda invited him in he closed the door after him. Friendly Rinda. “Oh, you can just leave the door open.” Cocky asshole with the smug grin. “Why? You don’t trust yourself to be alone with me in a closed room?” No, I don’t trust you, and you know it, you fucking asshole. How dare you try to spin this, as if I wanted anything from you except some basic fucking respect. Delusional douche canoe prick. Professional Mrs. Parks lying through her teeth. “It’s school policy.” Quickly get behind your desk. It’s a barrier and you’ll be safe. Wait, fuck. Did he open the door? Fuck me. He didn’t. If I let it go, he wins. If I open it for him, he wins. God damn this fucker to hell. Rinda motioned for him to take a seat and she opened the door. Julian was discreetly waiting in the hallway and he gave her an encouraging nod for support. She started to walk back to her desk. That fucker moved the chair so I’m going to have to practically grind him to get around him and retreat behind my desk. Retreat. Fuck this. She channeled an image of Justin Trudeau dealing with Donald Trump’s power play handshake. I’m not backing down from this prick.

She moved the other chair, the one on his side of her desk, further away from the man. She sat down, discreetly moving her legs to the side before crossing them at the ankles so there was no danger of her pulling a Paris Hilton or Sharon Stone. Mom taught Rinda as a very young girl to sit carefully and keep her legs closed so she wouldn’t show her Unaussprechlichen.  Rinda, you know. Rinda laughed to herself, realizing as an adult that the humor of that unspeakable word was lost on her mother. Grandma Lorinda would say vagina. Rinda, it’s a vagina. Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s yours, no one else’s. You can call it your Muschi, your pussy or cunt, if that’s what you want. As long as it’s respected and the words used to describe it are spoken with love. Crossing her legs. That wouldn’t be interpreted as discreet by a man like him. No, it would only draw his eyes there, to the Unaussprechlichen.  Crossing your legs at the knee, more sexual. You’re flirting. Crossing at the ankles, more demure and lady-like. But then you’re a prude. Thank God I wore a long skirt today.

He tried wheedling, he tried flirting. Rinda remained professional. She stood by the detention. He leaned in, but Rinda was far enough away that he would have to move his chair closer to invade her personal space. Ha! Score one for Rinda Parks. Oh, fuck. He really is moving his chair closer. Oh fuck, and he’s owning it, like it’s a welcomed advance, not his weakness. Rinda was sure her eyes were changing colors, that sure tell that she was afraid or upset. Hopefully he didn’t know that about her, even though it was hard to miss. Hopefully he couldn’t see how pale she was and didn’t catch her target glance to the door. God, how many times have women and other victims been in this situation, trying to gauge if they stood a better chance of survival if they tried to run or if they stayed still and took it. Rinda, you’ve got this.

He “accidentally” brushed her knee when he sat back down, his face dangerously close. Do I ignore it? If I call him out, will he laugh? Think I’m a bitch who’s playing hard to get? Tell me I imagined it? Rinda tried to stay focused, but she was livid. What if the roles were reversed? What if I just grabbed his cock and gave it a squeeze to assert my dominance? To get my shits and giggles off seeing another person squirm. How would that make you feel, asshole? Ugh. He’d probably love it. Spread his legs and force me to kneel, mouth open, to give him more.

The meeting ended with the usual threat that he would contact the principal, someone who was more reasonable and had more power than her. Fine. Whatever. Just get the fuck out of my face. At least he didn’t threaten her job or remind her that his tax dollars paid her salary. “I’ll have your job for this.” That one always cracked Rinda up. Bitch, please. You’ll “have” it? You want it? Go for it. You wouldn’t last an hour. Rinda let him stand up first. She was wearing a shirt with a high neckline. Nothing to see there and she’d rather be the one passively sitting, even if he was looking down at her, instead of the one standing and hoping he would get up to leave. He waited until they got into the hallway before overtly asserting his dominance. Maybe that was for the best. She wasn’t trapped behind her desk. She wasn’t trapped in the room. And really, it was comical how he thought he could just finish being an absolute ass, telling her that he would go above her head to get satisfaction, and then suddenly inform Rinda that he would take her out and show her a good time. He’d still get satisfaction from her in one way or another. He knew that she was lonely and needed a man’s company. And he’d give it to her. I’m way too old for this shit. Haven’t I paid my dues, yet? Isn’t that supposed to be a benefit of getting older and losing the bloom off the rose? Rinda laughed to herself. Her middle name was Rose. Damn that was pretty funny, Rinda. Okay, stay with it. You can’t use humor to deflect yourself out of this one. Rinda’s eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings. Julian was staying late for her. His door was open and he moved his work station so he could keep an eye on the hallway. She looked over and saw him watching her. And even though she couldn’t see him, she knew Bastien was near. She always felt his comforting presence when he was near. Maybe he was in the room with Julian, or just around the corner. But she was safe. It would be okay. At least this time. She started by purposely misunderstanding him. Not that anyone could misinterpret that lecherous smirk. Of course she would be happy to meet with him and his wife, at school, if they’d like to further discuss the matter. No? Not at school? But she only met with parents at school. Oh, but this wasn’t a professional matter. And his wife wouldn’t be joining him. And now he was leering, and even though Rinda knew she would be physically safe because Julian and Bastien were there, she wasn’t sure which reaction would be worse for her career. Fight or flight. She was so thankful they were here. Refusing their help to move her desk, feeling embarrassed that the head of security might have to escort this man out. She didn’t care anymore. Her pride was so goddamn trivial right now. She was just so fucking thankful they were here. The reality was that she was a woman who couldn’t handle it by herself. And Julian and Bastien were strong men, good men. She wouldn’t even have to ask. One of them, if not both, would stay to make sure she got into her car safely. Even follow her home if necessary. God I hate being a woman.

And then she felt the nausea. Did men think that women were just playthings? Did he care at all about his wife? His family? Did he even care that she said “no” several times, that he was making her uncomfortable, that she was still in love with Jameson? That this asshole’s very presence was violating her? No. He didn’t care. That was part of his fun. Bastien was in the hallway, gauging the situation. He would be able to step in at any time, but he remembered Rinda’s reaction earlier that day when she was struggling to move the desk by herself. He knew why she refused their help. In any other situation he and Julian would have teased Rinda for being so stubborn. But they knew to let that one go. He knew Rinda could handle herself now, and he wanted to be sure Rinda knew that, but he was right there if she needed any help. The man grabbed Rinda’s arm and Bastien saw the golden topaz in her eyes. The look of controlled fury that shook even him. He thought Rinda was upset that this man touched her. He didn’t realize it was so much more than that. This man was arrogant enough to even think he had a chance to replace Jameson, even if it was for only the few pathetic, unsatisfying minutes he might last if Rinda would allow him to enter her. That’s what it boiled down to, for her. Not his disrespect to her, or to his wife, but to Jameson. Her Jameson was a hero who sacrificed his life to save Cassie. People who didn’t know Jameson only saw the gruff exterior. They couldn’t understand how someone as light-hearted as Rinda could ever see anything in a person who was so serious. But they didn’t know the Jameson that Rinda did. The tender-hearted man who would do anything to make Rinda laugh. The one who adored her. He was her beloved. When Jameson came home after a long day of work she would serenade him with her loudest and most awful rendition of Tom Jones’ “What’s New Pussycat?” just to make him smile And no one else knew that when Officer Parks came home he became Rinda’s sweet and silly Miezekatze as she kissed his nose, those laugh lines around his eyes, that adorable dimple, and his irresistible lips. How dare he think he’s anywhere close to knowing what it means to be a man. To replacing Jameson. . . . . .

Rinda could have extricated herself from his grasp with a basic self defense move. And she could have run away, knowing that Bastien would take care of the rest for her. But she didn’t. Instead she turned his wrist and brought her elbow up to the underside of his elbow. Anger and adrenaline gave her the power to deliver a strong hit to his elbow. There was a sickening crack and the man immediately dropped to the ground, cursing Rinda. Calling her a bitch cunt whore who didn’t know who he was. Who she just messed with. How he would ruin her professionally. How he would find her and make her pay. How he would wrap his fingers around her throat and enjoy watching her eyes bulge as he strangled her. How he would find her and make her pay. Tear her a new asshole. Fuck her until she needed a new asshole. He would destroy her. He would kill her. Rinda didn’t hear most of it. Bastien was already dragging the man away, the man’s rants fading down the hallway. Julian gently pulled Rinda into his room and closed the door while he called the police and paramedics.

Bastien reassured Rinda that it was self defense and he was proud of her for defending herself so well. Bastien truly meant it as a compliment, and he was impressed with her. But Julian and Rinda looked at each other and they both knew it wasn’t that simple, and that Bastien sounded patronizing even though it was unintentional. Rinda also knew that Julian and his husband faced discrimination and hatred far more often than she ever would, and she was so grateful to have him with her that night. Bastien could help explain the factual details of what happened that night. But Julian, Theo,and Laura were the ones to help her navigate the emotional strain of that evening, and they would know the reality of what really happened that night because she was a woman turned down a rich man with on a power trip. To everyone else, Rinda would be seen as unable to handle herself in a situation. She overreacted to a simple misunderstanding. She must have done something to upset that man. She wore a skirt and invited him into her classroom when no one else was there. She sat next to him. She flirted. She encouraged him. And then changed her mind. Like a typical tease. Bitch. She resorted to violence over a simple miscommunication. He’s a married man. Respected in the community. How could anyone trust her with their children? And he was a rich man with power who sometimes donated to the school. Rinda most likely would have to apologize. Best case scenario. The reality was that Rinda most likely lost her job and the safety reform suffered a crushing blow because of her. Even if she were allowed to stay, she would lose all respect from the families, and that attitude would affect the children and how they interacted with her in the classroom. Then she’d lose her job that way. Because she wasn’t able to do her job effectively. Because she was a woman who pissed off a man. . . . . . The night dragged on forever with the police report and statements. Rinda had to call a neighbor to take care of Henry for the rest of the night—feed him and keep him safe—because she had to stay late with something that was school-related. It was true, even though it was a lie of omission. Bastien stayed to deal with the last of the legal issues and some other work matters. He also moved Rinda’s desk back to its original spot and set her squish ball back in its place, where it was easy for her to grab and throw against the wall. He hoped that would make Rinda’s morning a little better. Julian and Theo took Rinda home, and Laura came over too. And once she had Henry safely tucked in his own bed they drank. And commiserated. And cried. . . . . . Rinda didn’t know Bastien was indebted to Queen Riley because of his involvement with the Tariq scandal. She didn’t know that it only took a phone call from Bastien to explain to Queen Riley what happened and why. That Queen Riley was personally involved in speaking to the man and ensuring that the entire incident was taken care of. That what he did to Rinda, he would never do to her—or another person—ever again. Not if he expected to retain his citizenship as a Cordonian. Julian, Theo, Laura, and Rinda never understood how she got so fucking lucky. Why he chose not to press charges. Why she wasn’t fired. Why she never had to see that man ever again. But Bastien knew. He saw what Rinda went through that night. He talked with her, when she was finally ready and trusted him enough. He listened to her explain her feelings about the situation, not just the facts. Then Bastien better understood. He better understood what he did to Riley that night, and he better understood the mantle of responsibility that came with the power of simply being a man.

[masterofmunson]

Care For You (3)

Slight!Steve x Reader, Billy Hargrove x Reader Summary: Every time he takes care of her, she runs away   Warnings: language, angst, mentions of abuse, slut shaming, some teasing, character dynamics change, uh that’s it i think Word Count: 2.1k+ PART 1 PART 2 PART 4 PART 5

The next morning, Y/n decides to walk to school. She was still pissed at Steve and rightfully so, he was acting like an asshole.

She walks quickly through the hallways, avoiding the whispers and stares directed towards her. She tugs on her coat and walks towards her locker.

Her brows quirk in question as a crowd gather around her locker. She shoves through and people whisper and snicker under their breaths. She stands in front of her locker and tears threaten to fall down her cheeks.

On her bland gray locker are copies of the same picture with red spray paint vandalized on it. It’s a picture of her and Billy at Tina’s party. She’s obviously drunk, clinging onto him. Her face is incredibly close to his, almost like she’s about to kiss him. Her hands rest on his chest and his buttons are askew. His hands are around her torso and she’s practically on top of him. The words “THE KING’S SLUT” are spelt in ugly bright red with crowns on all of Billy’s pictures.

A tear slips down her cheek and she angrily tears the pictures down. She shoves past the crowd and hurries towards the main doors. She sees Billy hanging around the front door with his friends and she storms over to him, shoving the torn pieces in his chest.

“It’s funny y’know,” she laughed between tears, “I thought that you were a pretty decent person because of what you did for me on Friday, but I guess seeing the best in people is my fatal flaw, even for someone like you. Guess I was wrong, you’re still a piece of shit.”

He looks at her in utter confusion as he watches her storm out of the front doors. Carol laughs loudly and pops a bubble with the gum that she’s chewing. He looks down at the papers in his hands. He can see the picture as clear as day, even though it’s ripped.

His blood starts to boil and he storms over to her locker. He takes in the words and the pictures tapped onto her locker.

“Awe, poor thing,” Carol sighs behind him.

He turns to face her and his face turns red. “Do you have something to do with this?!”

She shrugs with a smirk. He shoves past her and out the door.

He hurries out the door towards his car and drives out of the parking lot. He drives fast down the streets of Hawkins until he finds her on the main street walking into the records store. He parks quickly before hurrying inside.

The bell chimes loudly against the door and he calls out her name. She shakes her head and starts to retreat to the back of the store. He catches up to her and he grabs her arm. She spins around and rips her arm out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me!” she cried. “The last time you did I was labeled as King’s Slut!”

“Y/n, I—fuck—I’m so sorry. I had no idea. It was Carol and her shitty friends. God, I’m so sorry,” he apologized, running a hand through his hair.

“And I suppose I have to believe you? Carol and her shitty friends are now the reason I’m now your slut by the whole school and another notch in your belt to help boost your reputation when nothing happened!”

“I know my word may mean shit now, but you just have to trust me that I had no idea,” he sighed.

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

He nods.

“Fine. I believe you. Leave,” she snapped, moving to the back room.

A week passes and for the most part, the locker situation blew over. Carol had gotten detention for the next two weeks and Y/n’s locker was cleaned.

Everything’s back to normal for the most part. Her and Billy don’t talk. Steve and her are back to normal. She works, has school work and rehearsals, and she helps take care of the kids.

Saturday night rolls around and she’s exhausted from work. Her tired limbs take her up the stairs slowly and she switches the light on when her phone starts to ring.

“This is Y/n,” she greets into the phone.

“Y/n, it’s Billy,” his voice is rough and it sounds like he’s been hurt.

She stares at the phone and debates hanging up. “Billy? What do you want? How did you—never mind.”

“Can I come over? Something happened. I have nowhere else to go.”

Her breath gets caught in her throat. She was right this whole time. He does have a rough home life. “Yes, of course,” she said without missing a beat. “Do you need me to pick you up somewhere? Where are you?”

“I’m downtown. I have my car. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he rasps.

“Okay,” she whispers into the receiver.

“Thank you.”

The call ends and she puts the phone back into place. She runs a hand through her hair nervously and waits.

Ten minutes pass, and like he said, he arrives. There’s a soft knock on the door and she runs down the stairs and rips the door open. She gasps, throwing a hand over her mouth as if she’s trying to conceal her shock.

Billy’s bruised and beaten—far worse than the last time she'd seen him in a fight, with Steve unfortunately. She steps out into her porch and gingerly wraps an arm around his torso. He winces and she mutters a quiet apology.

“Parents?” he gasped as they stumbled inside.

“Out.”

“Dylan?”

“At Lucas’.”

They struggle up the stairs for a few minutes until the manage to tumble into the bathroom. She hits the lights and the bathroom is full of light. He grunts and sits on the counter. Y/n fishes around for the first aid kit and it falls out of her grasp with  shaky fingers. She curses under her breath.

“I forgot something. Stay right here,” she demands softly—as if he had anywhere else to be.

She rubs out of the bathroom to the towel closet. She grabs a handful of washcloths and towels before running downstairs and grabs two packages of frozen peas and carrots. She runs back upstairs, hurrying into her room. She changed into a t-shirt and quickly fishes for clothes that Steve’s left at her house. She huffs out a breath and trips back into the bathroom.

“Shit,” she curses. “I’m destined to get killed in this house,” she laughs nervously, putting the stuff she grabbed on the toilet seat.

Her eyes scan him carefully. He has scrapes littering his face with blood falling down the side of his face. His jaw is turning a dark blue and she swallows hard. She notices that he’s favoring his left side more than his right.

“Can you take your shirt off?” she murmurs, swallowing hard.

He laughs and winces. “If you wanted to just see me shirtless, you could’ve just asked.”

She glares at him and rolls her eyes. “Stop talking and hold this bag of peas to your face, pretty boy,” she snapped, wrapping it in a hand towel.

Billy smirks smugly and takes the bag from her. “Did you just call me pretty boy?”

She narrows her eyes at him and shakes her head, fiddling with the buttons of his flannel. “N-No I didn’t.”

“I think you did.”

“So?” she squeaks nervously. “I call Steve pretty boy.”

“Mhm, I’m sure you do. He’s your boyfriend after all.”

She sighs rolling her eyes. “At this point I’m not going to even bother correcting you. I’ll just glare at you.”

The rest of the button come undone and Y/n’s careful to take it off him. She gasps and fumbles with the other frozen bag of vegetables. His side is littered in ugly blues and purples.

“B-Billy, does—does your dad do this t-to you?” she asks, gently pressing the bag against his side. He nods his head. “Max?” He shakes his head. She lets out a shaky breath and swallows hard. “Is this why you’re so…”

“Mean?” he questions.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods his head. “Billy—shit—is there anyone you can talk to and I dunno… get him arrested? You don’t deserve this.”

“I’m use to it. Besides, I don’t have anyone else. My mom died when I was 14 and he went crazy. Max’s mom is crazy too. I’d be on my own,” he answers quietly.

“Out of all the people you could’ve called, you called me. Why?”

“You see me. I might be a tool at school, but when I’m not… I’m totally different. I’m powerless at home but I have all the power at school and you just… don’t care about that stuff.”

A silence falls between the pair and she moves the bag of vegetables into his other hand. She takes a washcloth and damps it with water. She steps in between his legs and gently rubs the cloth against his face. He winces here and there and her fingers gently holds his face in her hand. She takes his hand in hers and wipes the blood off of them. She grabs the Neosporin and the cleansing alcohol from beneath the sink. She grabs cotton swabs and twists the cap of the cleansing alcohol open.

“This might sting,” she murmurs, dabbing the cotton swab all around his face. He winces and his hands ball into fists. “Sorry.”

She holds the bag of peas to his face and looks at him. He’s relaxed and the tension in his shoulders falls away. He looks at her and notices the arm with all the tiny scars. Even though they’re all small, they’re incredibly noticeable. He reaches for her arm and she tenses, trying to shy away.  

“Do you harm yourself? Is that why you have these scars?” he asks.  

“No. I don’t cut myself. I got hurt,” she lies through gritted teeth.

“Is that why you have really bad nightmares, because of whatever hurt you?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, feeling the weight on her chest grow heavier. Tears threaten to fall and she blinked them away. “I can’t sleep because of them.”

He nods, running his fingers down her arm. She shivers and steps away, giving herself a little more breathing room.

She fumbles with the Neosporin and gently rubs the cream on his face before putting band aids over them. She exhales a breath and wipes her hand on a towel before washing her hands.

“You’re all done. I have some clothes here that might fit. You can change into them if you like. I’ll wash your other clothes,” she states, taking a deep breath.

He nods and she leaves the room briefly. He opens the door and steps out with his dirty clothes. He peeks his head into her room and she’s nowhere in sight. He walks down the stairs and he hears noises in the kitchen. He sees her putting away the bags of frozen vegetables and he coughs into his arm, alerting her of his presence.

She turns around and a soft smile finds its way onto her face. She quickly averts her gaze from his bare chest and swallows hard.

“Steve’s shirt didn’t fit, but the sweats are fine,” Billy says with a smirk. She nods and shuts the freezer door.

“Daisy, c’mere!” she yelled, and a golden retriever runs into the kitchen from the basement.

She gravitates towards Billy, the new guest and she wags her tail. She nudges her snout against his hand and he laughs, petting behind her ear.

“Aren’t you a pretty dog?” he coos, squatting down to pet her. She licks his face and he laughs.

Y/n whistles by the back door and Daisy trouts over and she sits down obediently, waiting to be let out. She shuts the door and turns back to Billy.

“Follow me,” she said, opening the door to the basement and walking down the steps. She pulls on the strings to all the lights and steps over to the washer and dryer.

She opens the washer and stuff clothes inside of it. She motions for Billy to put his clothes in the dryer and she closes the top.

They head back upstairs and she lets the dog back in before they go up to her bedroom. She locks the door before sitting in her lounge chair.

“You can take my bed,” she said. “I don’t usually sleep much, anyway.”

“What? Are you sure?” he questions, sitting up on the bed.

She nods. “Yup. You’re fine. If I fall asleep I have really bad nightmares so I just take power naps throughout the day. You can take the bed.”

He sighs, rolling over to face her. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“You’re welcome, Billy.”

ok first off thaNK YOU SO MUCH FOR 2K I LOVE YALL!! SECOND, ENJOY AND TELL ME WHAT U THINK

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