ultralightpoe

[ultralightpoe]

Crown And Glory - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: the last part has arrived ladies and gents and nerds all around.

Word Count: 9k+ words

Warnings: Fight scenes, crappy writing

Description: Nancy Drew solves the case

Main Master List - - Stranger Things Master List

Part One: Nancy Drew

Part Two : Cold Cases And So Forth

Part Three: The Hardy Boys

Part Four: Crown And Glory [You Are Here]

[Thank You For The Gif @shedaresthedevil ]

Enjoy!

The Case Of Blending In….. 

Brenda and Trish were an odd pair to go dress shopping with. Though you’re sure they would both probably say the same about you. 

Brenda was a ‘try everything on’ type of girl, she refused to take a chance that something wouldn’t fit, and she inspected the look with a meticulous glare. If there was the slightest bit of room near the shoulders she’d spot it. If there was too much room near the ankle she'd notice it immediately. Clean colors, she liked pastels. A spotless look is what she aimed for. 

Trish liked…. Bows and frills and color. She wanted to make a statement and rather than trying everything on she would use her hands to measure much to your surprise. 

It had been 3 hours of clashing. 

3. Friggin. Hours. 

You were going to die. 

The bruising on your face was more yellow now, still swollen, but at least the lip healed up a bit. Both girls had made sure to comment on it quite a bit. Trish was outright disgusted and Brenda played worried but she mostly loved the drama of it. 

“Where on earth did you find that girl?” Brenda snaps, leaning against a rack of tops as Trish is on the other side of the store trying on shoe after shoe, leaving a massive mess behind her as she decides which one looks better. The store clerk was sending glares from over the counter, obviously torn between getting involved or minding his own business. 

“She’s friends with the DnD group I think….” You answer, running your fingers over the fabric of a dress near you just as an excuse to look away. “One of the boys likes her-”

“But she likes your man.” Brenda interjects, shaking her head. “I thought they were dating. Which is why you were all mopey and miserable a couple weeks ago.”

“I remember.”

“Are you better now? I mean,” She laughs, pushing hangers around aimlessly. “You climbed out of a window to avoid him.”

“I did.” You had. And then days ago you kissed him, a wonderful wonderful kiss that had left you in an awkward state ever since. Not due to either of you not wanting to talk about it but due to the fact that the two of you had yet to be alone since. Between Wayne hovering because you were hurt and Gareth attached to you like a sidekick obsessed with an adrenaline rush and Jeff trying to play Sherlock Holmes you and Eddie had your hands full. 

But Eddie tried. He worked his ass off in attempts to get you alone. None of it seemed to work though. 

But you would get time to talk about it, you would, you had faith in it. 

Today however you were being dragged along shops two towns over from Hawkins, with two females that clashed like no other. 

“So…. I’m not catching on. She likes your man and yet she’s here?” Brenda questions, tilting her head. “I don’t get it.”

“One of the other guys likes her. And…. well I’m not really worried about her liking Eddie not that he would qualify as my man-”

“You made out. You and Eddie made out.”

“And I’m the teen sleuth?” 

“How was it? Did you love it? You must have loved it.” She gushes, nearly dropping the dress she was lugging around. “I mean he’s a fool but damn that boy looks like he was made for kissing.”

“Who was made for kissing?” Trish asks, appearing out of nowhere with one singular shoe in hand and the rest scattered on the floor behind him. The clerk turning red from the counter, a vein popping in his forehead. “Gareth, right? He’s like always following around you.”

“Those shoes are turquoise.” Brenda notes, tilting her head a bit. 

“Yeah? So?” Trish asks, tilting her head the opposite direction, both of them holding terrifyingly similar smiles that were as fake as they came. 

“You chose a red dress.” Brenda huffs, flipping hair over her shoulder before turning to the mess Trish left behind. “You aren’t going to leave that mess are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s his job.” 

You needed out of here, immediately. 

“Did you pick a dress?” Trish asks, that head tilt to you. 

“Yes. Yes I did.” A hell of a lot quicker than they had, that’s for sure. “Are we ready to go?”

“I am still deciding on shoes-”

“Go for silver. Now can we please go?” Brenda hisses, walking to the front to check out. You watch her go, the purple dress in her hands clenching from her tight hold, her ringed hands in fists. For as long as you had known Brenda she had always been a bit of a hothead. She argued with just about every female she could and there had been an insane competition between the two of you in the newspaper club. But lately it has been tenfold. 

“Ready to go?” Trish asks, smiling at you. 

“Yes. Yeah.” You nod, pulling the dress you chose a little closer and heading to the front to pay for it. 

Gareth and Eddie are waiting for the car where Brenda drops you both off at the diner, and at the last moment, just before you slip out of the car while Trish yells out a ‘Hey Eddie!’ you turn to Brenda with a smile. A real one. And apart of your anxiety at everything going on lately eases up when she returns it with an actual smile. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” You mumble. “I…. I enjoyed it.”

“No you didn’t.” She laughs.  “But I….. If you admit it to anyone then I will stab you with a butter knife, but I….. You’re a blast, Nancy Drew.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” You smile, stepping out to see Eddie waiting outside the door for you, holding out his hand. You expect him to grab your hand, but instead he grabs the bag and tries to rifle through it. “Hey, paws off!”

“Don’t I get to see? It’s not like it’s a wedding dress?” He scoffs, whining a bit when you snatch the bag back before you turn to try and invite Brenda into the diner to eat with the group just to see that she was already driving away. Eddie has his hands on you, lightly tugging on the earring you were wearing to pull your attention. “You okay?”

“Yes. I’ll be so much better if you don’t eat all my fries.” 

“Now you’re just aiming low.” He whines, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into the diner and out of the heat. Jeff and Gavin are already at the booth, arguing over a DnD booklet as Eddie guides you to sit with them. They had taken to picking the circular booth so that everyone could fit, no more awkward motions to grab a chair or switch seats. 

You slide in, Eddie quick to follow, grabbing the menu to open it between you two as Gareth and Trish stay outside to talk. You should be looking at the menu, should be talking Eddie down from ordering something stupid, and yet you find yourself staring out the window to watch those two talk. Eddie doing the same. 

“Ah, young love.”

“Poor guy. Struggling.” You note. 

“Like a cat hitting a lake.” Eddie laughs before you slap his shoulder a bit. Both of you jump when you turn to see Gareth glaring at you through the window, turning so quickly you bump foreheads together before gluing your eyes to the menu. 

When you hear the diner bell go off you both stay frozen, listening to the sound of his feet on the tile of the floor before seeing the flannel in edges of your vision. 

“They have cheese fries. We can add chili and jalapeno.” Eddie notes, nodding his head. 

“You both are pains in my ass.”

“Chili is going to make you sick.” You respond, playing along. 

“You’re gonna pretend I’m not here? Really? You two are so childish!” 

“I’ll make you a deal here, split a milkshake and I-”

“I was going to split a milkshake no matter what. Chocolate.”

“Peanut butter.” He challenges.

“Lunatic.” You respond as Gareth groans and sits down with a plop, Trish coming to sit by Jeff. “Fries. Chicken sandwich. Chocolate milkshake…. And then I might share what color the dress is.”

“Deal.” Eddie rushes out, closing the menu quickly. 

- 

The Mirror Effect. 

English class had always been Eddie’s favorite, the only class he never really had to worry about trying in since everything came naturally to him. All the others he spent begging you for help but this one? He enjoyed it. 

Mostly because Mrs. Erickson let him sit in the back and read, knowing he’d attempt to pay attention if they were going over something he didn’t know. And today he had taken full advantage of that, slipping into the fantasy world laid out before him so easily that when the school bell went off he had to blink to snap back into reality. 

Not that it was too much of a drag coming back, this world had you in it and there were no sword fights or dragons that could ever compare to the feeling your smile left him with. He was rushing to pack up, hoping he’d get a moment with you in the halls before your newspaper club, when the teacher called him up. 

“I know this is a weird ask.” She begins, reaching behind her to grab a backpack. “But Joseph Storm left this here the other day and he’s been home sick. If you could drop it off as well as this weeks homework that would be terrific.” 

“Can do.” Eddie nods, pulling the bag to his shoulder. 

“And please tell our little sleuth that I hope she’s feeling better. Quite a nasty bruise I saw on her this week.” 

“Yeah…. Will do….” He nods, moving to head towards the door before stopping, turning back. “Joseph Storm? He’s in…. He has you for English?” 

“Yep. All year..” She answers, moving to sort some stuff in her cabinets as Eddie nods slowly and turns to walk out, his head warping into circles. 

He makes it all of 4 steps before stopping short, turning to head to the journalism room where you would be. 

The room goes silent when he waltzes in, everyone stopping what they were doing to stare as you smile a bit awkwardly and stand to meet him at the door, shutting the door behind you so you could be alone in the hallway. 

“What can I do for ya?” You giggle, and something in his chest tightens at the sound, the urge to touch you a bit too much so he reaches up to trace a thumb along your jaw with his fingers on your neck. He never thought he’d get to hear you giggle for him like that, so free and flirty. Or well…. He guessed you always had but he had talked himself out of believing it was true. Never wanting to risk the friendship. 

All it took was him risking the friendship by chasing you away. 

“I just needed to see you.” He blurts, stepping closer. “You promised me could stitch ourselves together, I wanna see what kind of thread you want.” 

“I get a choice. Lucky me.” You smile, leaning into him and he thinks his knees go weak, nearly falling then and there as he leans in to close the space completely. His lips so close to getting where he wants when someone clears his throat to pull attention. “Sorry Mr. Daniels.” 

“Right.” The teacher nods, rolling his eyes before walking past and Eddie watches him go, something weird in his gut before turning to you. 

“That man is gay.” Eddie notes, watching your face punch in confusion before you actually pinch him. 

“Be nice.” You scoff. 

“No! I’m not being mean. I’m stating a fact.” He laughs. “I’m not saying it as a diss. I would never do that.” 

“But the letter…..” you mumble, watching him closely. 

“All I’m saying is he is wearing the most put together outfit I’ve seen, and walks like he’s about to meet Princess Diana.” 

“Those are mean stereotypes.” 

“No those are high compliments. That man was not into Holly.” He explains, huffing a bit before leaning in to give you a chaste kiss. “We really need alone time. But I gotta go.” 

He doesn’t give you anytime to say anything, dashing to catch up to Mr. Daniels. 

“Wait! Gimme a sec!” He heaves, trying to catch his breath as his pace slows when he catches up to the man, who is raising an eyebrow. “Did….. you…. Holyshit….. Holly….” 

“Oh my god Sherlock Holmes. Take a moment to catch your breath.” He groans, already tired of Eddie’s shit. 

“Okay. Okay. I’m fine. Did you know Holly-“ 

“Yes. Are we done here?” His teacher is already turning to leave before Eddie steps in front of him. 

“You were friends right?” 

He hesitates, looking around quickly, noting the cars in the parking lot before nodding. “We were.” 

“And just to be clear, you didn’t write a love letter to her. Asking her to meet you at lovers lane?” Eddie clarifies, smiling a bit when Daniels gives him an incredulous look. 

“God no. She was my best friend. She knew everything about me and I her but I would never- not to say she was nasty but…..” he shrugs, hands gesturing to himself like the answer should me obvious and to Eddie it was. 

“You know anything about the guy she was seeing?” 

“No? Holly wasn’t seeing anyone. Had an on and off thing with the king of the school but they barely talked by prom.” Daniels sighs. “If you’re interested because of the crown donation then I suggest going to the office.” 

“The office is closed. And they had it under anonymous when we went and checked.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you Munson.” Daniels sighs again, rolling his eyes. “Just …… leave me out of it. I wasted 4 years obsessed with what happened to my friend. I can’t do that anymore.” 

With that he’s off, leaving Eddie standing in the middle of the parking lot with a sneer covering his face. He could see where Daniel’s was coming from, but if you went missing after prom he’d find a way to tear apart the planet piece by piece until they found you. 

He whirls, ready to charge back in and tell you what he found out, until the second backpack he had been carrying swings at the momentum and falls off his arm, slamming onto the concrete below and spewing papers across. 

Cursing under his breath Eddie rushes to snatch the papers, one by one. English homework, science lab work, your homework, an overdue English es- your homework. 

Your homework. 

Shaky hands, he runs his finger over the handwriting he recognizes as yours on the back of the page, willing himself to be wrong before turning it over to reveal your name scrawled across the top. Your science homework. 

The science homework you had gotten an incomplete on because it had been stolen with that damn letter. 

“God damnit.” He seethes, snatching everything else up and rushing to his van. 

- 

“Dad?!” You call, rushing into the house and dropping your bag by the front door. “You home?!” 

He had rushed home from his work trip the second he’d heard about what happened, and had been mother henning you since. Cleaning the wound every night, rubbing lotion on the bruise and even checking your pupils for progress on the concussion you for sure had. 

“I’m here!” He calls back and you follow his voice to the kitchen where he is fixing up some food. “I was trying to make dinner, but I keep burning everything.” 

“How dare you.” You laugh, leaning against the wall. 

“You excited for tomorrow? Spring formal and all that?” He wiggles his eyebrows, shaking his shoulders a bit. To your dad it seemed like his only daughter was finally getting into the girlhood of it all. If only he knew you were laying a trap to catch the janitor in the act. 

“So excited.” You nod. 

“You mind going and grabbing my work pad? I need to head in and take notes on this meeting call. I left it on the table when I left for the trip.” You nod, remembering that he had left it there to make sure you knew where he was, shuffling to grab it. 

Once you spot it in the table you dramatically clap your hand to grab it, sliding it closer as the bottom of the pages catch your eye. A design, logo really, from his company. Brenda Carlton’s dad owned it, one of the richest men in town. 

No wonder she is so picky about her dresses. You think, moving in to pass it to your dad before mumbling out that you were heading to Eddie’s. 

“Hey!” He calls last minute, making you turn. “Be safe!” 

“I will.” You frown, watching him shake his head. 

“Most parents have to worry about their kids having sex. I have to panic about mine busting a meth lab in our neighborhood” he mutters to himself before rushing to answer the phone in his office while you head outside. 

Gareth, after a massive amount of guilt tripping, had bought you a new bike and for a moment you were quite happy with the fact that he hit you with his car. Because your last bike didn’t have a basket or bell. And you used the bell to your advantage when you made it to Eddie’s trailer, ringing it until he came to the front door. 

“I pity the day you get a car with a horn.” He calls, shuffling on the porch steps and opening his arms for you to walk into once you leaned the bike against the walls. 

“You’ll be so excited that you don’t have to cart me around anymore you’ll get me a special horn.” You chuff, moving to hug him as he rolls his eyes. 

“Me? No. Even when you get a car we’ll still be running old Bertha to every crime scene.” Something was off, his demeanor tight and worried. 

“You okay Ed’s?” 

“Yup.” Liar. He was such a liar. You pull back quickly, trying to look into his eyes before he avoids the eye contact, moving to pull you inside. “You hear from that Joseph kid? He’s been sick the past couple days.” 

“No. I hadn’t known.” You hum out, following him to his room. 

“He doesn’t call you? Gareth said that he was into the investigation when we were….. you know?” 

“Fighting? Yeah. But not too invested.” You respond, watching him closely as he toes at his own carpet with his hands on his hips. “What’s going on?” 

“Are we going together?…. Tomorrow?” He finally asks, looking up at you. 

“No. I was going with Jeff. You just bought the same color tie to be cool.” You giggle, watching him roll his eyes at the sarcasm before a smile spreads across his face. “Why are you asking?” 

“I just…….” Once again at a loss for words he tries to come up with one, gesturing between the two of you before giving up, crossing the room to latch his lips onto your own in a passionate kiss. His lips melting against yours as a bit of energy zaps through you both at the contact, stirring you into action enough to wrap your arms around his neck while his hands slide into your hair and onto your back to hold you to him. 

When you part for air he is panting, eyes staring into your own with a spark you had come to recognize as he lunges back in, using his foot to slam his bedroom door and shuffle you both to the bed. Falling onto it with a bit of a bounce as he slots himself between your thighs forming a giggle to pass your lips. 

“What’s so funny?” He breathes out, staring down at you as he hovers so close you can feel his hair on your forehead. 

“My dad said something about other parents having to worry about sex meanwhile he was worried about my sleuthing habits.” You explain, watching his face form a confused stare. “I think he should be worried about the sex part. Our sleepovers are gonna be cut off once they all find out.” 

“I have broken into so many buildings. Your room will be easy work.” He growls. “Cause when you need me I’ll be there.” 

“Promise?” 

“Swear it.” He nods, taking his hand and extending a pinkie to you which you accept. And this time instead of bumping heads you pull him in for a kiss, making quick work of shucking off your jacket. 

- 

12:30. 9 hours before the plan. 

“Alright. You got the plan down?” You ask Gareth, standing with him at the end of the hall, both trying to seem casual as you peer down to where Benson Cane was mopping. 

“Yup.” He nods, casting a glance before turning to you. “Actually no.” 

“I just need a look out. Eddie is in an exam right now, and I need someone to watch the hall while I go into his office. If you see someone that can bust me you hit this button on the walkie twice.” You explain, showing him which to hit. “Got it?” 

“Why hit it twice? Why no code word?” 

“Because then they’d know you’re talking to someone. When you hit it twice I hear-“ 

“Is that a hickey?” He blurts, finger digging into the spit right under your collarbone with a disgusted look. “That’s so gross.” 

“Oh please. You have all people can’t judge. You want to give Trish so many hickeys.” You huff, slapping his hand away. 

“Not true.” He argues, his entire face going red. “Okay. Ready?” 

“Yes.” You nod, taking a couple steps away and then rushing down the hall. 

Bensons office is locked, of course it is, but you were taught by the best so you pick the lock and slide in, turning on your flashlight to take a look around. His office is spotless, not shocking for a janitor. The desk only holds snacks, no papers, and the cork board above it holds school papers. Most of which are about your cases. The chair squeaks and when you sit in it you nearly fall, your knee coming up to hit the desk, sending the corkboard falling between the desk and the wall. 

“Shit-“ And then Holly was smiling at you, through a picture anyways. Many pictures actually. Smiling to the camera in each and every one of them. “Benson…..” 

You take a picture with your camera, hearing the two clicks of the walkie and knowing you had to get out, so you try and fix the pinboard only it won’t go back up. 

“Shit come on.” You panic as the walkie sounds off twice again, adrenaline and fear taking over as you get it to sit and rush for the door, only the second your hand reaches for the knob it turns and you have to rush to hide, sliding the door to the mop closet and hiding in there as Benson Cane heads in. 

Panic covers you as he walks around the room, collecting cleaning supplies, heading straight for the closet you are in before the phone goes off. He groans, moving to pick it up before knocking over some stuff on the desk, bending down to pick it up. 

You had two choices, you could have stayed and grimaced at the half moon he was showing or take this chance to escape. You chose the ladder, nearly running into Gareth in the hall on your way out before you both dash down the hall for cover. 

“You got what you need?” 

“Yeah. He’s scheduled for 9:30 tonight. We confront him then.” You pant, even though you still felt like something was missing. 

-

2:30 7 Hours Before The Plan 

Eddie was a bit pissed at the fact that instead of seeing you one more time before tonight he was forced to take his van to the richest part of Hawkins and park it in front of an idiots house. 

It didn’t take long to waltz up to the front door, knocking on the oak wood a couple times before he was greeted with an older woman. “Hey. Is Joseph home? I’m trying to drop off his homework.” 

“Oh he’s been out. All morning.” The woman smiles, waving her hand. “Had school and then some club. He’s so busy these days.” 

“Yeah I bet.” Eddie laughs, handing her the bag. “Have a nice night.” 

- 

6:30 3 Hours Before The Plan. 

Eddie was punctual when he picked you up, hopping out of his van with an extra jump before fixing the suit he borrowed from Wayne, making sure the tie stayed clipped before heading up to where you stood waiting on the porch. “Sorry I’m late. Had to conceive Gareth to take his own ride.” 

“You’re on time.” You laugh, moving to meet him in the middle, hands sliding up his arms until they make it to his chest the second he’s within reach, allowing him to pull you in and press his hands into your back. 

“No. On time is late.” He argues, leaning forward to kiss you gently, hands rubbing circles onto your back before he pulls back. “Are you ready for a formal, Nancy Drew?” 

“Well that depends…. Am I going with my best friend? My detective partner? Or a boyfriend?” You question, heart thundering a bit as his eyebrows raise. 

“I have just what you need!” He exclaims, clapping a bit to pump you up. “I have a guy that can be all three….. he….. he costs 400 dollars an hour BUT you get a happy ending.” 

“A little out of my price range.” You play along, allowing him to lead you to the van. 

“Okay. I have a guy that can do the last one. But he’s also into guys so it won’t be that believable but he is a blast to hang out with.” Eddie offers. 

“Jeff is a blast but…. He’s got his eye on someone from the swim team.” 

“Damn. Missed that one. I’ll have to ask him. Okay. Final offer. I have one that can be all three….. but he can be an ass sometimes. Talks too much. Spends too much time daydreaming about you so he might be behind in all his classes.” He lists off, turning you to face him as you lean against his car, pushing in until his hands were splayed out and trapping you within his arms. 

“Does he kiss?” 

“Looks for every chance just to kiss you.” 

“Will he dance with me?” 

“Formals aren’t really his scene.” 

“But I want to dance.” 

“I’m sure he’ll make an exception.” He huffs out. 

“Then you have yourself a deal.” You smile, pulling him by the tie to lock lips. He pulls back a little, after a few moments to breathe out “I wasn’t talking about me but I’ll accept it.” 

By the time you both get to the school you’re already nothing but giggling messes, hearing the music filter down the halls as the boys meet you by the front to buy tickets. Eddie keeps a tight grip on your hand as you walk through the endless hall of streamers before making it into the gym that has been completely redecorated for the event. Colored lights hitting the floor being anchored up in the ceiling with rope, a stage with a band currently playing some of the best hits of the 70s near the other side. 

“So this is what they do at dances?” Eddie laughs, looking around. Neither of you had ever been to a school dance before. Cases always managed to get in the way. “Alright. You want to go check out the school? Get ready?” 

“Maybe….. maybe we stay and have fun first?” You offer, a nervous feeling coiling in your gut. “Maybe the mystery comes second and we just….. act like teenagers for 5 minutes.” 

The smile that cracks across his face makes you warm, smiling back at him with a giddy urge to pull him to the dance floor. So you do, and even though he hates school dances he lets you drag him in. 

You dance with him most the time, bumping into Jeff and Simon here and there, avoiding the awkwardness of Gareth and Trish. You’re both flushed panting messes when Eddie leads you from the dance floor to grab some punch, sweat forming at your hairline. 

“We could have been having this much fun.” He laughs, watching Jeff and Gareth break into a mummy dance. “But what’s crazy is I never realized we were missing out because I loved our adventures…… how many of these kids can say they have done any of the stuff we have done?” 

“Like when we dressed as an old couple in the retirement home to catch the thieving nurse!” 

“Or when we ended up on a movie set 4 towns over, being drenched with fake rain all to catch a makeup artist pawning jewelry.” 

“Oh! How about the time you had to climb the tigers gate at that crappy zoo to find the murder weapon the zookeeper had hid.” 

He laughs at the memory, leading you both to the edge of the gym so you didn’t have to yell too loud over the music. “What’s your favorite so far? Out of all our cases? Which one?” 

“My answer is pretty boring.” You shrug, holding the glass punch cup as your eyes trace around the room. 

“Which is?” 

“Way back in the day…. I found this kids lunchbox for him.” You smile, finally turning to him. “That’s my favorite.”!

“Mine too.” He smiles. “I got my lunchbox and my favorite person all in one day. An amazing feat considering I had been crushing on her for weeks before that.” 

“You HATED me! I cleaned your desk and you-“ 

“I’ll have you know I worked so hard to maintain that clean desk after you cleaned it.” He laughs out, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, just grazing his lips onto your skin before pulling back with narrowed eyes. “Hey I’ll be back alright?” 

“Ed’s it’s almost 9:30.” You laugh, watching him with confusion. 

“I just have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in time. Swear it.” He smiles, walking past you to rush out the door. 

“You look great!” Brenda calls, rushing to hug you closely before pulling back to make you spin. “Munson scored out of his league with you.” 

You laugh at her amusement, reaching to keep her steady when she staggers a bit. “You havin fun?” 

“Oh yeah. So much fun.” She huffs, shaking her head. “I should booze this party up. Prove a point to my mom.” 

“Whys that?” 

“She’s here! If you can believe that! Both of them! Cause she used to work here.” Brenda complains, making you stop short. 

“Right. Your mom used to work here…..”  you nod, looking around the room to catch eyes with someone. “Brenda. I’ll be right back.” 

“Love ya.” She makes a kissy sound before you rush to follow the figure escaping. 

- 

9:15 15 Minutes Before The Plan. 

Eddie is quick to keep pace, chasing down a figure about his height that keeps looking back before picking up speed. Turning corners in an attempt to lose him but Eddie wouldn’t let that happen. He had a score to settle. 

“Hey!” He calls, making the figure panic and turn into the woman’s locker room, Eddie quick to follow. 

Once he enters the door there is nothing to be seen, no one in sight. He walks a couple steps to check the stalls, opening door after door before doing the same with the curtains for the showers. Nothing. 

He’s about to admit defeat when he gets a prickly feeling on his spine, turning and kicking at a locker in anger enough to make the door snap open to reveal Joseph Quinn. 

“There you are you little cockroach!” Eddie sneers, reaching to pull him out of the locker and push him to the ground. “I’ve got you all figured out!” 

“Whatever you think I did you’re wrong man! I didn’t do anything!” 

“Yeah? That so?” 

“Yeah man! You touch me and I’ll call hopper. Have you fucking arrested!” Joseph seethes back, scrambling to stand only to realize he’s trapped in a locker alcove. 

“You want me to lay out what you did? Or just confess so I can get back to my girl?” 

“I didn’t do shit.” Joseph spits, eyes widening as Eddie takes a step forward. 

“You attacked her. It was you at her house that night.” He explains, hands sinking into his pockets. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

“Fine. Let me lay it out. You’ve been stalking my girl. I don’t know how long, I’m sure it’s been a minute though. You knew the second we started fighting. You knew the second she was introduced to the Holly case.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Gareth told me a funny story, about how he went to the tutoring center and she was there claiming she wasn’t the tutor but no one else was there so she had to have been lying. He said her performance was terrible. She was lying but she was still right. There was supposed to be someone else there. You were signed up for tutoring hours. You were the missing tutor.” Eddie explains, pointing at Joseph to prove his point. 

“I don’t know what your on -“ 

“You grabbed the yearbook. Even hid it in her next class with a fake love letter from Mr. Daniels so that you could be apart of the investigation. A red herring. Daniels was never in love with Holly, he’s gay.” 

Joseph stays silent, so Eddie continues. “The night she got threatened you broke in to grab the letter. Either second guessing yourself and your plan or you just wanted something of hers cause you grabbed her homework too. I know it was you because whoever was threatening her on the phone couldn’t have broken in without her hearing them and they happened at the same time.” 

“You’re fucking crazy man.” 

“I am. Because you broke into her house and you. Hurt. Her.” Eddie sneers, taking another step forward. “You hurt her. And I am not gonna let that pass you fucking freak.” 

Joseph’s face pulls into one of grief, eyes welling up with tears before his face begins turning red. He goes from fake confusion to devastation and straight into rage within the span of seconds. 

And he lashes out fast enough to hit Eddie hard enough it sends him to the floor. 

“You’re dead, Munson.” Joseph growls, pulling off the tie of his suit and wrapping it around his hands to get ready to choke Eddie out. 

- 

9:21 9 Minutes Before The Plan. 

He was tall, it wasn’t hard to track his figure through the halls even when he walked into the darker section, where all the lights were turned off to prevent kids from coming through. He walked with confidence, hands in his pockets and shoes clacking against the ground with easy steps until he shuffles into a science classroom and you follow. 

He had taken to sitting on the counters by the windows, letting the moonlight illuminate him for perfect viewing as you stared him down and he stared right back. 

“It was you.” You state, standing as straight as you can. “You were the older man Holly was seeing.” 

Brenden Carlton, Brenda’s father, merely chuckles with a smug smile covering his face, his eyes ice cold. “I’ll play along. Tell me how you got to that conclusion, pretty girl.” 

“You met her at the homeless shelter. You take cases there all the time for pro bono work. You started a relationship with one of your wives students and it lasted awhile. Until the night of her prom….. when she revealed she was pregnant. There was a photo in Bensons office, she was wearing a sweater but you could still see a bump.” You begin, watching him closely as you step further into the room. “You guys used to meet at lovers lane, and the night of her prom she did meet you there, told you she wanted to keep the baby. You told her no. You both got into a fight and she threw the ring you gave her at you but it fell to the ground. She went to the prom and you were left panicking about it. Finally you gave up. You ended up at the school and pulled her away from everyone. You attacked her, left her for dead.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smiles. 

“Yeah. Brenda was the one that gave me the photo in the first place, this entire town pretends Holly doesn’t exist and it’s a struggle to find photos of her but your daughter found one just fine. And the ring she wore that day, I didn’t correlate it until now but it’s just like Hollys ring I found by lovers lane. Rose gold in a Celtic knot.” His face is falling a bit, shoulders tensing more and more. “Brenda was the one who mentioned lovers lane to me because she heard it from you. Mostly everyone goes for lovers rock or lovers lake. Lane had been unheard of until Brenda told me. B.C. Carved into the tree. Hopper thought they were Brenda’s initials because they were. She was named after you.” 

“You have no proof here.” 

“My dads legal pads from work held the same initials. B. C. You sent him on that work trip to clear the house, assuming I’d be with Eddie. You tore up my room looking for the evidence. And you’re a fucking failure cause you didn’t find a thing.” He sneers at you, standing up now. 

“You have nothing.” 

“No…… most of what I said wouldn’t hold up in court without dna or a confession.” You nod. “Which is why I was sent to distract you while my two teammates grabbed the crown. Because your dna is on it.” 

It was a bluff. Sure the boys were grabbing the crown, but you didn’t know if there was any dna on it. Didn’t seem to matter though since Brendon believed it, his face morphing into one of devastated rage. 

“I’m gonna kill you like I killed her.” 

And then he lunges. 

-  

9:36 6 Minutes After The Plan Was Supposed To Start. 

“Where are they?!” Gareth snaps, pacing back and forth in the hall as Jeff keeps close to the glass case. “They were supposed to be here….. did you see them leave the gym?” 

“I saw Eddie leave. Last I checked she was talking to Brenda.” Jeff answers, knocking his knuckles against the case gently as he watches the reflection from the hall. “What would they want us to do if they aren’t here?” 

“Grab it probably.” Gareth shrugs. “But they are criminals that know how to pick a lock.” 

“I thought their schtick was goodie two shoes detectives.” Jeff huffs before realizing something. “Dude there is no lock!” 

“What-“ before Gareth could actually finish the question Jeff is sliding the glass to expose the crown to the outside world. “We are idiots.” 

“HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT?!” Benson Cane yells, spotting them from down the hall. 

“Run.” Gareth orders, and Jeff snatches the crown up to dash with his friend down the hall, Benson hot on their heels. 

- 

9:37 7 Minutes After The Plan Was Supposed To Start.

Eddie couldn’t breathe, his fingers were digging to find purchase on the tie around his neck, doing anything he could to try a relieve it as the edges of his vision began spotting. 

Joseph was sitting on his back, choking him out with a silver tie of all things, and Eddie was more so aggravated by the fact that he was about to die in a girls locker room with a TIE for gods sake. That is until he begins pawing around him on the ground and finding a pair of tweezers, reaching behind him to dig them into Joseph’s thigh as hard as he could. 

The boy screams out, letting go of the tie enough for Eddie to crawl out, panting for hair and rubbing the sore skin in effort to ease the wound. He didn’t have time to sit here, so he uses the bench to help him stand, rounding quickly to throw a punch at Joseph cracking him in the face where you must have cracked him before. 

“JESUS FUCK-“ the kid cries, falling to the floor with his hand covering his face and the blood sliding through his fingertips. 

“I’ll give you something to Jesus Fuck about….” Eddie growls, his voice uneven and gravelly from just having been choked out. Only when he steps to the kid he barely manages to see the knife in his other hand, swerving back and narrowly avoiding it as Joseph begins swinging it wildly. “Ahhhh of course!” 

- 

9:40 10 Minutes After The Plan- You get it now.

His first lunge is narrowly avoided with a side step, him swinging his arm is not. He hits your cheek as a perfect angle, sending you staggering back onto the teachers desk with a hand covering your cheek. 

“You think I want to do these things?!” He calls, grabbing at your hair to pull you in, ignoring your hands that claw for freedom. “I love-“ 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You groan, reaching to hit the heel of your shoe and dig it into his foot. He yells out, legging go and you take the second to try running. When he reaches for you he almost gets you, tearing a piece of your dress off. 

You nearly make it to the door, your exit so close, but he lunges over the tables and tackles you. 

Both your bodies go flying into the glass case of beakers, the glass shattering around you as you fall into it. Your arms fly up in attempt to cover your face form all the glass but he is already dragging you back, sliding you across the broken shards on the floor as you cry out. 

-

9:42 12 Minutes After The Plan. 

Jeff and Gareth took a good habit of swinging each other in moments of panic. That meaning they developed a good pattern of pulling each other when they take corners, swinging to keep momentum and pace. 

“Gareth! Science hall is a dead end!” Jeff reminds, choosing to go left instead and dragging Gareth to take that turn. Gareth swings out, tripping up a bit before taking the lead. Dashing down the hall right as the janitor turns the corner with another yell. 

“Why is he so damn worried about this crown. It’s not even that cool!” Gareth yells before tripping over a mop bucket, flying into the floor with Jeff still holding his arm. 

“Stop it!” Benson yells, coming up to grab the back of Jeff’s shirt. “Come on you hooligans!” 

“Hey! Back off my partner man!” Gareth yells, snatching the mop and swinging it around to stave off the other guy. “We know you killed Holly! You were obsessed with her!” 

“What the hell?” He gasps, taking a step back. “Why the hell would I kill my niece?” 

- 

9:45. Honestly the plan is shit, I’m done counting.

They were a mess. Joseph would swing the knife and Eddie would kick him. By the time Eddie got the knife out of his hands they were just a sprawl of limbs fighting over the locker room. 

Shoving each other into the lockers and falling over the bench in the middle. 

Joseph’s blood was getting everywhere. 

He was on top of Eddie now, trying to crawl a little faster as they were both reaching for the knife, cursing each other out until a heel comes into view. Both of them looking up to spit none other than Trish standing there with wide eyes. 

Tommy H at the doorway. 

“Poor Gareth.” Eddie groan, gasping out when Trish kicks the knife close to him and he can snatch it, sending Joseph flying back in panic. 

“Get him freak!” Tommy calls as Eddie looks around for something to tie him up in. 

“Oh! Here!” Trish staggers for some pool rope, pulling it over to help Eddie tie him up. Once Joseph is finished he turns, slightly out of breath to look at Trish then back to Tommy. 

“Trish come on.” He huffs, moving to grab her arm gently. 

“What? Why?” 

“You’re too drunk to leave with him of all people.” Eddie explains, bringing her with him as he leaves the locker room with Tommy yelling something behind them. 

Now he just has to find the rest of the group. 

- 

“So you were related to Holly? Not obsessed with her?” Gareth asks, walking alongside Benson Cane to get to his office. 

“No shit.” The older man snarls, shaking his head. “Her mom was my sister. I fell into some deep shit for awhile and Holly was workin at the homeless shelter. We grew close. She helped me get back on my feet.” 

The man pulls the keys from his belt, unlocking the door. “She….. well she told me about some stuff before that night. I found her bleeding all over the science room floor and helped her get outta here.” 

“So…… Holly is alive?!” 

“Alive as can be.” The man huffs out, moving the pin board to reveal the pictures you had talked about. “We ain’t gotta family picture.” 

“So….. you found Holly but you weren’t the one that attacked her?” 

“Hell no. Cleaned her up, got her on a bus with all the cash I had on me. She told me not to look into it cause the person would be able to find her.”

“So who attacked her?” The voice makes all of them jump, turning with wide eyes to find Eddie in the doorway with Trish smiling beside him even though he was covered in blood. 

“You said you found her in the science hall, right?” Jeff questions, not asking any questions about Eddie’s current state or Trish. 

“That’s right.” 

“I bet you Nancy Drew figured it out.” And with that all 4 of them ran, only Gareth turned back to help Trish sit down before racing after the others. 

- 

What Brenden Carlton didn’t think through about dragging you through shards of glass was that you would end up picking one up, snatching it in a fist as he pulled you to him, trying to get his hands around your neck before you sunk the piece into his shoulder. 

“FUCKK!” He screamed out, keeling over to ease the wound as you pushed him off, scrambling for something else to grab. You ended up snatching a science textbook, swinging it to hit his face. 

By the time the boys all came rushing in Brenden was on the floor a whiny moaning mess as he held his shoulder, curling into a fetal position. 

You drop the book, eyes widening when you see Eddie, trying to pinpoint where he was bleeding as he did the same for you. “Just a couple slashes.” 

“A couple? A couple dozen.” You correct as shakes his head at the amount of cuts you have from the glass. 

“I called the police!” A voice snaps, entering the room. Vivian Carlton, storming in with her daughter hot on her heels. “They will be here any minute.” 

“Vivian!” Mr. Carlton cries out. “Help!” 

“Let’s get you kids cleaned up.” She eases, reaching out for you until Eddie steps in the way. “Easy now. Down boy.” 

“I’m sick of-“ 

“Before you go into a long rant just think about it. Who would donate a prom queen crown right as Nancy Drew was investigating?” Vivian rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “I found the crown and the picture. I gave the picture to Brenda for a news article cause I knew you’d get matched to it.” 

“That’s a lot of work for someone who could have just asked us to look into it.” Eddie snips, arms extending to the mess behind him. “I mean seriously.” 

“It worked didn’t it?” She jabs back, right as police lights began to filter into the room from outside, illuminating you all as the sirens sounded out. 

Eddie turns to you quickly as Benson moves to push Brenda out of the room before she could panic about the state her dad was in, a meanwhile Eddie tilts you to sit on one of the tables until people come in to help. You both stay silent, not bothering to talk, as you run a finger along the fresh bruises on his throat. 

By the time you are both interrogated and cleaned up by the paramedics you find your way to the street outside, sitting on the curb of the sidewalk side by side as arrests and evidence are claimed. 

“So…..” he murmurs, leaning into you a bit. “What now?” 

“Hmmm.” You pretend to contemplate, leaning your head on his shoulder. “There is this huge pumpkin patch conspiracy over in Hutchins.” 

“Yeah?” He chuckles, leaning his head on top of your head while he weaves your fingers together. “Let’s go now.” 

“Or….. we can get some sleep. Sleep until like 2 tomorrow and then go and get some burgers?” You offer, closing your eyes. 

“You had me at or.” He answers back, keeping his eyes closed as Hopper laughs out in the distance while being interviewed. 

- 

“The Cold Case Of Holly Sampers, the prom queen who mysteriously disappeared just 2 hours after being crowned, has finally been solved after over 10 years. By who you might ask? A local teen detective that this town likes to refer to as Nancy Drew. I’m Heather Jasper Howe (if you catch this reference you’re a god) and today I will be interviewing some residents of Hawkins as we follow just how this all came to be.” The news reporter smiles, her teeth flashing from behind the camera as she walks through Hawkins High, allowing them to get a shot of the carnage left in the science room. 

Wayne rolls his eyes before shutting the tv off, turning his head to glare at the two of you from where you sat at the half assed kitchen counter, drinking from the travel mugs the man liked to collect. “You two are pains in my ass, you know that?” 

You and Eddie try to stifle your laughter, both looking a little worse for wear after sleeping in until 2:30 and waking up looking like zombies. Half his hair was at odd angles and he had slashes across his stomach from where he fought Joseph, and he made sure to forgo a shirt so you could see everything last night. 

You were in one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, looking no better from the way Wayne glared. 

“Shouldnt you be at home? Your dad is probably worried sick.” 

“I called him. He’s a bit busy….. considering the ceo of the company he works for just got confirmed as a….. well criminal.” You shrug. Your dad had actually nearly driven over when you called last night, but work had been ringing him a lot and you had promised to go home tomorrow so he could have time to deal with the mess of you ruining his bosses life. 

Eddie didn’t appreciate the wording you chose. “He ruined his own damn life.” 

And he was right. 

But none of that mattered right now, all that really mattered was leaning into Eddie and getting bitched out by Wayne. 

- 

The Case Of The Killer Clown. 

“Need I remind you both that you’re supposed to be playing grandparents?” Jeff groans, walking around the van to spot Gareth and his new girlfriend Gwen in a wet lip lock that has both their wigs tilted. “This is just nasty.” 

“Ah, young love.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he throws hit leather jacket in the back of the van. 

“Wouldn’t this be considered elder love?” You tease, climbing out in your own costume with a cane in hand. “Gareth, don't forget this.”

“Why do WE have to play grandparents?” Gareth groans, stomping his foot a bit. 

“Because YOU fell asleep on the stakeout.” Jeff answers, making Gwen laugh a little bit and high five him. 

“You know this plan would work better if Simon were here.” Gareth growls. “Where is your boyfriend today?”

“Swim meet.” Jeff groans. “I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“You saw him today at school.” You state, helping Eddie with his worker uniform, well less helping and more fixing it while he grins down at you like a lovesick butthead. 

“You don’t want to go there with me little missy. Let’s talk about the open door policy and the no more sleepovers.” Jeff launches back, making your eyes widen. 

It was spring break, just a month after the spring formal, and quite a bit had changed. The first being Gareth accidentally outing you and Eddie as a couple in front of Wayne, which meant you both were cut off from sleepovers…. Which in reality meant he just snuck over to your place and snuck into your room now. It wasn’t like anyone was super surprised by the news, the entire town claimed to have seen it coming. 

Gareth had finally realized just how much he did not like Trish, which worked perfectly because she realized just how much the rest of the group hated her.  He met Gwen at the tutoring center, where she actually tutored. Then he had to get another tutor just to get work done because the two of them quickly realized they got nothing done together. 

Simon and Jeff were a thing, though Simon was a skeptic about the whole mystery thing. He loved hearing about it but he never wanted to do anything that would risk scholarships which you could understand. 

And Holly Sampers was alive, based on the picture she sent you in the mail she was happy as well. She stood with a brunette boy that looked like Brenda, and when you tried to reach out to Brenda about it the girl ignored you completely. But, if rumors were true, she was taking spring break as an escape from her fathers trial and a way to go meet her half brother. 

“Whose fault is that?” Eddie huffs out making Gareth groan and roll his eyes dramatically. 

“Okay enough. Everyone remember the plan?” You interject, watching them all nod. “Great, remember this isn’t our town and their sheriff isn’t as lenient as Hopper is.”

“You mean lazy.” Gwen corrects making you laugh. 

“That’s what I said.” She giggles at your retort, both of you leaning to fix each others costumes as the boys all grab what they needed. “Okay for movie night I vote we convince the boys for Pretty In Pink as a red herring and then when they feel bad about saying no we get them on the new Robert Downey movie.”

“I like the way you think.” You nod. “We can even convince them for our snack choices.”

“Girls get it done.”You slap your hands together twice before snapping, a handshake you had invented after the first time she came with you all to the diner. An actual female friend. 

Gareth and Gwen take to prepping their walks while you do one final check on Eddie who unfortunately got a job at this circus to help the investigation. Though when you try to make sure his recorder is working he wastes time catching your lips to his. 

You melt into it, as you always do, letting his hands cup your jaw as his mouth works against you. Pushing you both to lean against the van as a thigh slots between your own, the taste of spearmint coating your tongue before you bite down on his lip to catch him off guard and make him groan. 

“Ah. Young Love.” Gareth taunts, making you both pull back with dead stares. “Back in my day sunny we took our gals inside before we dry humped em!”

“You tell him honey!” Gwen calls in an old lady voice. 

“Alright. We’re done.” You laugh, pushing Eddie off you as he whines. “Let’s go catch this guy.”

“Fine. But if we are called the scooby gang one more time I’m egging a reporters house.” Eddie huffs, giving you one more kiss before heading in his direction while Jeff and you head the opposite direction. Everyone had a walkie on them, just in case. 

Safe to say things had changed a bit since the two kids found that lunchbox. 

-

Did you catch any of the easter eggs?

TAGLIST::

@lilyglaserpace - @xlostitx - @transparent-enemy - @justalotoffanfiction - @everlove - @dreamerjj - @i-hate-people-1 - @gagasbee - @heavenlyhorrors - @georgeweasleyslostearhq - @introvertedmouse - @cowboylikemunson -

[ultralightpoe]

The Hardy Boys - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Yeahhh boy. Get ready cause action is gonna hit soon. Can you catch my small easter eggs I have laid out?

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: Reader is attacked.

Description: Nancy Drew gets a team

Main Master List - - Stranger Things Master List

Part One: Nancy Drew

Part Two : Cold Cases And So Forth

Part Three: The Hardy Boys [You are here]

Part Four: Crown And Glory

[Thank You For The Gif @multi-fandom-imagine ]

Enjoy!

The Case Of The Early Morning.

It’s easy to wake up before Eddie, since he tended to sleep until noon whenever he could, the struggle came in the fact that you would have to get out of bed without waking him. Which would have been easier if you both hadn’t melded to each other in the middle of the night. 

Legs woven together and his arms tight around you, Eddie Munson had his face shoved into your stomach, pressed in so tight you could feel where his nose was bending a bit, his arms a steel force around you. Almost like he was afraid you’d run off in the middle of the night, and you can’t help but feel guilty on it considering that’s what you had been planning on doing. 

With your face stuck in a grimace you pulled a leg back, freeing it from his own before sliding so both your feet are on the floor of the bedroom, before trying to push yourself into standing only the second you start escaping him he is anchoring you back, stirring to wake up. His hair, a mess in every direction, covers his eyes until a hand pulls from you to all but slap himself, rubbing the hair out and the fogginess from within. “Five more minutes,babe.” 

It’s spoken in a half asleep blur as his other hand stays attached to you, fisted in the shirt you wore, trying to pull you back. You think that the words are meant for someone else, something you weren’t supposed to hear considering you weren’t supposed to be in his bed when the sun rose through his window. “Bathroom.” 

It’s spoken as a croak, your hand reaching down to rub his wrist a bit in effort to ease his hold, it works because soon enough his hand lets go of the fabric and he nods slowly before shoving his face in the pillow. He mumbles out something you can’t hear, but if years knowing him told you anything he was telling you to hurry back or complaining about your childish bladder, pulling the blanket up more until he was tucked in again. You take this as the perfect time to tiptoe away, avoiding the floorboards you know would squeak out before grabbing the shoes you left by the desk. You kept your clothes on, in part of no longer feeling comfortable in this room and in part because you knew it’d make an easier escape. 

The door is easy, something you had learned within the first year of Eddie living under Wayne’s roof, and you even shut the bathroom door on the way past to help make your rouse believable just in case Eddie is listening out. But the second you pass the living room and have your hand on the front door you know there no hiding the sound so you just rip it off like a bandaid and rush out into the morning air. The screen door slams, sending a jolt through you as you head down the minor porch steps and begin your walk out of the trailer park. 

You would have to get your bike back, and fixed, soon. There was no way you’d be able to investigate all this without a mode for transportation. Maybe this time you would try not to get run over. 

A honk pulls your attention as you head to the bottom of the hill, smiling when you see Wayne waving to you and leaning out his window. “Eddie knows you’re leaving so early?” 

“Pretty tired.” You shrug, toeing at the gravel beneath you without looking up to Wayne. You didn’t think you could stomach it really. “I just got some boring stuff to do today.” 

“I’m sure he’d wanna tag along anyways.” Wayne offers, fingers tapping along the door of his car. “He’s been pretty put outta shape about your new schedule. Says you're busy….. you join a club or something?” 

“I gotta go!” You rush, waving at him with a big smile before continuing to walk, ignoring him calling out for you to be careful as you finally reach the exit of the trailer park. 

A rational person would go home, but you were due for a trip to the sheriff station, because as much as you kept denying that this was a case you had been threatened for it. There was a question here that you hadn’t asked yet. Quite ironic being threatened over something you weren’t even actually looking into. 

“There she is! My Nancy Drew!” Hopper calls, clapping his hands before rushing at you with a cheery expression, picking you up to swing you around. “Ah. It’s been too long.”

“Three weeks.”

“I missed you.” 

“It’s been 3 weeks.” You amend, nodding slowly before he gives you a hurt stare. Eddie had a way of cracking the tension in the room like no other, a people person through and through. You always tended to be a little too blunt with things. So you scrounge up something he might say. “3 weeks too long!”

“Aha! Agreed. Come on. What are you working on now?”

“I’m not really working on it….. I’m just…. What do you have on Holly Sampers?”

His smile drops immediately, enough so that you nearly take a step back at the reaction before he nods his head and turns, motioning for you to follow. “Let’s take a look.”

It took him 30 minutes to get the case folder, and he had offered you a cup of coffee every single time he could before he finally hand the file over to you, sitting in his own desk chair watching you. Her file is extremely short. 

No friends or family fighting with her. Nothing out of note. She was on time to prom, got crowned. 30 minutes after her crowning she said she had to go to the bathroom. Only she never came back. People assumed she left, only when her mother reported her missing the next morning it was realized she was gone. 

“Did she have any friends?”

“All her friends are listed. Witnesses. All said the exact same thing.”

“And she just went…. missing ?”

“Must have run away.”

“With no money? No clothes? Her mother wrote that nothing was missing from her room. Why would she run away with nothing? How would that work?”

“Probably stole something. Probably-”

“She was an A student that volunteered at a homeless shelter outside of town-” You stop short of your argument, something clicking into place before nodding and standing up to give him a final hug. He tries to get you to explain but you are already dashing out of the station into the sunny air. 

By the time you make it home Eddie’s van is already in the driveway, the long haired boy sitting on the stairs to your porch with a scowl…. And two people standing near the fence of the porch. 

“Remember that time you snuck away from me at the ice skating rink…” He starts, rings clicking against each other as he points to you. “I specifically said not to and what did you do?”

“I…..”

“Nope. No.” He laughs, standing so quickly that the chain he liked to wear on his belt rattles. “I got locked in that friggin closet and I told you to stay close and you did what?”

“I ran to catch the criminal.”

“You ran to catch the criminal!” 

“Are we going to be caught up here?” Jeff interjects, leaning against the fence still as Eddie shakes his head. 

“Oh I’ll catch you up alright.” Eddie huffs, not looking away from you. “We were investigating something funky going down at the ice skating ring. Some bitchy skater swore that she didn’t mess up and she was perfect. Guilted this one into looking into it.”

“And you did?”

“She was upset-”

“She mocked your weight within the first 5 minutes.” Eddie growls. “We found out that one of the other coaches was messing with the system so that it froze at an angle. Half the ice was uneven. It was causing girls to mess up, even had a couple broken ankles.”

“Holy shit.”

“And we caught him!”

“Yes. You caught him and then by the time I caught up you were bleeding from your forehead so badly you had to get stitches. Guy was terrifying.”

“So how’d you knock him down?” Gareth asks, coming closer with a look on intrigue. 

“Eddie knocked him out with a hockey stick he found in the closet. He actually tore the door-”

“One minute! One minute and you would have been taken out by an ice skate. One minute!” He snaps out, looking stressed beyond compare. “I get that you’re mad. I get it. I said some shit that….. I will not allow you to get hurt over a fucking prom queen. You can be mad. But we are a damn team. Where you go I go. Even if you hate me.”

“What happened to I was always around-”

“I lied! I lied, and now I’m attached to you like velcro. You hear me? Velcro.” He seethes, eyes narrowing enough that you actually don’t know if he’s planning on killing you or if the sun was hurting his eyes. Only when the hue of them hits the sunlight, and you can’t tell if they reminded you of chocolate or honey. Maybe a mix of both. 

“You got attacked with a figure skate?” Jeff asks, coming forward. “Okay. You caught a figure skating scheme. That’s insane.”

“What else have you done?” Gareth jumps in, standing in the semi circle the four of you have formed now. 

“I’ve told you guys about all of them.” Eddie huffs, shrugging like he was looking at two idiots. 

“Well yeah but…..”

“Eddie once dressed as a scarecrow to catch someone using a pumpkin patch as a cut through to steal from the grocery store behind it.”

“She climbed a garden terrace to climb through an attic window of a four story mansion just to catch the grandfather walking. He had pretended to be in a wheelchair to get away with murder.”

“Holy shit. You guys do far more than catch janitors stealing erasers.” Gareth nods. “We want in.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie huffs, and for a moment you realize that you are not on the outside of the group, matter fact they seem to be clustering around you.  “You can’t just say you want in to be in. That’s not how that works.”

“Hey! I already put work in!” Gareth argues, looking completely offended. 

“You hit her with a car.” Eddie snaps. 

“I also got bit! It’s all red and itchy now!” He argues back, shoulders raising. “I should get workmans comp.”

“I don’t even get workmans comp.” 

“Fine. What do you do when Eddie gets hurt?” Gareth asks you, turning with narrowed eyes. “I want it.”

You blink, completely unused to the chaotic energy that they all manage to feed off of, finding yourself stepping closer to Eddie. Sure you had hung out with them before, painstakingly trying to get along with them. Every joke falling flat. Every smile not being matched. But this? You had never seen them like this, with the way they worked around each other so easily. Slapping each others arms, smiling in cue, matching laughs without even realizing. 

You realize that Gareth is still staring at you, waiting, so without thinking you lean up to kiss his cheek as you always did when Eddie got hurt. Only it felt awkward and weird when you pulled back to look at Gareth, both of you staring at eachother. 

“Yeah no. Didn’t like that.” He mumbles. 

“That was weird.” You agree, turning to Eddie. “Sorry, it’s weird that I always do that. Isn’t it?”

“HE complained. Not me!” He is wearing a downright offrented look, but his body seemed a bit frozen in place, one step taken as if he had been preparing to jump between you and Gareth.

“Shouldn’t we be…. Investigating?” Jeff interjects, gesturing between everyone. 

You nod, appreciating the breakaway he just gave and pushing from the group to walk up the stairs and enter your house. The boys follow quickly, with Gareth and Jeff looking around awkwardly and Eddie following behind you already comfortable from all the times he had been here. He is a step behind you when you enter your room, heading straight for your bookshelf while you grab some clothes to change into. 

“Are we allowed to come in?” Jeff asks, his toes barely touching the door barrier. 

“No.” Eddie gruffs the same time you okay it, both turning to each other with accusing looks. 

“Be nice to your friends.”

“Gareth hit you with a car.”

“Love tapped.”

“Buddy tapped.” He corrects, shuffling forward until he was closer to you. “Where’s all your detective gear?”

“Gone.” You shrug, hating the sinking feeling in your stomach as he gives you a saddened look. 

“Cause of what I sai-”

“It was just too crowded in here.” You lie, rushing past him to head to the bathroom to change. Gareth goes to follow, obviously not catching on until Eddie shoves his shoulder with an incredulous look before gesturing to something else. By the time you get back from changing the two boys are on the bed, their shoes by the door as they bicker over something while Eddie is pulling in some familiar objects. 

“I threw those out.”

“Your dad saved them in the garage.” He shrugs, pulling out the sleuth kit. His hair is in a bun now, to try and fight the heat of the day, and there is a chain bracelet around his wrist.  You gravitate towards him, reaching to grab the bag from him but remaining near even after he turns to start stacking books. “What do we know?”

You’re too focused on staring at his arm to realize he had asked you a question, only snapping in when he leans down to catch your eyes, tilting his head like a cat. 

“About?”

“The prom queen. What do you know so far?”

“Oh. Right!” Your skin is hot, the blush taking control. You stutter over your words before you start leading through what you knew. Which wasn’t a lot. “She wasn’t reported missing until the morning after. Her mother said she never came home but everyone at the dance assumed she had since she said she was going to the bathroom only she never came back.”

“What time?”

“10:30. All the witnesses have that same time. Actually they all have the same answers.”

“Sounding rehearsed?” 

“Sort of, but there was nothing too unsettling.” You explain, moving with Eddie without even realizing. Every step has you following, every turn you manage to reposition yourself. “And there aren’t many pictures of her anywhere. Not to mention when I went for the yearbook it had been stolen. Found it behind a file cabinet in Mr. Daniels classroom.”

“Gareth mentioned that the other night.” Eddie nods, moving to your desk to pull out the chair and sit down, spinning on it so that you could stand between his knees. “Joseph helped you….”

“Note the tone change.” Gareth whispers to Jeff, making Eddie cast them a side look. 

“There was a letter in the book. A love letter, dated the day of the prom and asking her to meet him at lovers lane. Only I don’t have it anymore. It was stolen with my science homework.” You huff.

“You sound pretty agitated about the homework. More so than the gutting threat.” Gareth adds, making you cast him a sidelong look. “Damn. Mom and dad are so serious.”

“I got an incomplete on that homework.” You defend with a tight voice that makes Eddie chuckle, placing a hand on your hip to refocus you. “Gareth and I went to check out Lovers Lane. We found a tree with the initials carved in. H.S. and B.C.”

“H.S. could be Holly.”

“But the initials dont match Mr. Daniels. And then there was this ring.” You step away from him to pull the ring out, showing it to him. You hadn’t taken the time to actually look at it, but now that Eddie was grabbing it you could see the rose gold lining of it. Quite pretty. 

“Okay. Missing by 10:30 at the earliest. Love letter. Initials on tree that don’t match anyone. Ring.” He repeats, looking to the boys before back to you. “Anything else?”

“In her file it said she volunteered at a homeless shelter. I was gonna come home to change, then go out and get a picture of the tree. Find a ride to the homeless shelter after.”

“Gareth and Jeff. You’re on the tree.” 

“Aye Aye Captain!” Jeff calls, jumping up to salute you. 

Gareth nods, hopping off the bed to take a couple steps forward and lean on the desk with what you were to guess was a flirty smile, swishing to get some of the hair out of his eyes. “Goodbye kiss before I go?”

“Gareth.” Eddie growls, standing up as Gareth cackles and dashes to the other side. 

“I’m on it bosses.” He smiles, following where Jeff leads. Eddie watches them both go before turning to you, something sitting on his face that you can’t really read. 

You shuffle to sit on the bed, he’s quick to wheel the chair until your knees press only to spread his own and slide closer. 

“You ready to talk?”

“I already told you everything.” You huff, trying to roll your eyes and look away before he leans to follow your sight, keeping the eye contact. 

“I meant about us.”

“What us?”  Your heart is thumping through your chest and your hands begin to shake. He was close enough that you could smell the mint of gum and the weird musk smell of the cologne he always steals from Wayne. You loved the smell, but you would never admit to that. 

“Are you really going to let this fight ruin this? Everything- I-...” He sighs out, eyes closing before they open again, like molten. You lean a little closer when he does. “You’re really gonna ruin all those years over something silly I said-”

“It wasn’t silly to me!” You snap, standing up so quickly that he has to roll back to avoid collision. “It wasn’t silly to me. It hurt. I- Fuck you. You think it’s that easy? That you can slash me in a parking lot and rub salt in the wounds without a hint of hesitation and then blame ME for ruining this?!”

“I didn’t-”

“You said everything you knew would hurt me. I never worried about those things before. I was so comfortable around you- the one person on this earth that I had that with and as it turns out you hated it! You were my friend. You were- I- I-” The words lodge in your throat as you struggle to stop crying. “You were more than my friend. And I spent so long looking for signs that you might feel the same way but as it turned out I was nothing more than a fucking joke. You hated everything, all the cases and all the time. You said it was all about cases but it wasn’t. I spent movie nights with you and we made hellfire shirts. It wasn’t just cases. It was me and you.”

“Please-” He begs, taking a step forward only for you to turn away to grab your bag, stopping short at the sight of Jeff and Gareth in the doorway with wide eyes.

“W-we realized we didn’t have the camera…” Jeff mumbles out, face blank. 

“Let me get it fo-” Eddie begins, moving to grab the bag before you once again shut him down. 

“New plan. Gareth is my ride today.”

“What? No.” Eddie seethes, shaking his head. “We agreed. You and I for the home-”

“I’m with Gareth. You want to help Eddie? Go and find someone else to bother.” You rush out, moving forward to snatch Gareths collar and drag him out of your own house as Eddie follows hot on your heels. He keeps calling your name, not that you bothered to listen since you were already hopping into Gareths car. 

- 

“So what do we do?” Gareth asks, walking alongside you as you make your way back to the spot you had found the tree, brain racking as you tried to retrace your steps because you had been out here for 15 minutes already. 

“It should be right here!” 

“I swear it was.” He agrees, looking around, taking a step forward before tripping over something and sending himself face first into the branches beneath. 

“Jesus, you need to come with your own safety padding.” You gasp out, rushing to help pick him up off the ground, reaching into your kit to grab a cloth to cover the scratch across his cheek that was blushing red as droplets of blood leaked out. 

He looks down, making you seethe at him to stay still when he points out. “That stump is fresh.”

“What?”

“Fresh stump. You are right. The tree was here. But it’s a stump.” He was right, when you looked down you could lay out the entire scene. The bush you hid behind, where you found the ring. The tree was right here. 

“Who the hell cut down our tree?” He blurts, moving a hand to hold the rag to his face as you grab your camera to take a picture. 

“The better question is who the hell managed to get it cut within the night…. And how did they know we were here?” 

- 

The feeling of paranoia had latched onto your spine and had yet to let go. You were beginning to spiral out, eyes going hazy as you looked around everywhere you could in effort to see someone there. 

To see if someone was watching you. 

Gareth, still new to the sleuthing world you had dragged Eddie into, hadn’t seemed to catch on to what the tree being gone meant. To what the threatening phone call and missing letter meant. 

Someone was actively watching you. 

Remain calm. You could hear Eddie muttering to you. If you give in that you know it can escalate it. Let them watch. Prepare for the slip. 

This isn’t the first time you had been watched. But this was the first time you felt nervous, this is the first time you didn’t have Eddie with you to make sure everything was alright. 

“Excuse me.” You bumble over your introduction, trying not to break down in front of the poor woman working at the shelter. “We’re looking for someone who might have been here in 1971. Anyone that could have seen a girl we’re writing a paper on.” 

The woman smiles, her gaze catching in Gareths cut before nodding, seemingly trying to decide if she should trust you. 

“That would be Harold. He has the office down the hall.” She checks you in, checking your ids and making you sign a form before you’re allowed back, and Harold’s office was easy to find. The man seemed almost too large for his chair. A looming presence, large shoulders and big hands making the pen in them comically small. 

“You were here in 1971? Correct?” You ask as soon as he had let you sit down. 

“Yes….. not as a worker. I was…… I usually claimed the bed in the far corner. Had the best sunlight.” He nods, a stiff smile making its way to his face. “You’re here to ask about Holly.” 

“I am. Is there something that gave that away?” 

“What else would pull you both from Hawkins besides the girl from Hawkins. I’m surprised you’re here though, police never bothered to come talk to us.” 

“Before our new Sheriff, Hopper, things were pretty….. lax? Is there anything you can tell me about Holly?”

“There is a lot. Girl couldn’t cook to save her life. Started here as a volunteer cook until she was banished from the kitchens. Then she showed that she was quite good with medicine and medical stuff. Wanted to be a vet I guess. That and how kind she was made her everyone’s favorite. If you’re writing a piece about her make sure to mention that. She just wanted to help people.” 

“She didn’t have any problems?” 

“There was one, he got a little too close sometimes. Managed to get a job about 4 months before she went missing. He used to draw her a lot.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Benson Cane. He was -“

“B.C.” Gareth gasps before you reach over to punch him, making him yelp and glare. 

“Do you know where Benson ended up?” You ask, but it’s obvious it’s already too late. Harold is casting nervous glances between you both, Gareths slip has proven you’re not asking innocent questions, this wasn’t just for a paper. 

He is quick to kick you out, but just before you leave he says one last thing. “She was seeing someone older. Was pretty fond of him.” 

You thank him, leaving quickly and before you know it Gareth is speeding through the streets with an excited buzz. “WE CRACKED THE CASE!” 

“No. We didn’t.” 

“What do you mean?! He just told us-“ 

“We haven’t cracked it until we know where she ended up. It’s all up in the air…..” your words die off as he pulls up to your house, eyes casting to your father packing his case in the car. 

“I’ll see you at school?” Gareth asks, you nod dumbly and hop out, rushing to your dad. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Oh thank goodness.” He smiles. “I thought I’d miss ya. Left a note on the table for you. Boss called me in on this big legal case. Wants me in Miami stat if you can believe it.” 

“You were gonna leave without a goodbye?” You huff, moving to hug him. 

“Have you met the Carltons?” He laughs, kissing your forehead. “Call Eddie. Stay with him if you need but no dangerous cases while I’m gone! You hear me?” 

“None. Cross my heart.” You smile, kissing his cheek before letting him drive off. 

Yes the second his car vanishes from sight you’re left with a sickly feeling. Gareth is gone. Your dad is gone. Eddie is definitely gone and he probably wouldn’t want to talk to you right now anyways. 

You were alone in the house tonight. 

Everything will be fine. You think to yourself. It would. You would make it. 

- 

You know they are there before you see them. 

After not being able to sleep in your room you ended up in your living room on the couch, where you could hear just about anything in the house. Apart of you thought you were being paranoid. But after the last couple days you’d had you didn’t want to take that chance. 

Somehow you managed to fall asleep, only waking up to the sound of footprints in the living room, right near where you were sleeping. And you knew danger was ahead. 

They were trying to be quiet. One foot after the other as if they were in one of Eddie’s cheesy spy films, but they managed to hit every creaky panel of wood as they went around the couch. Four steps and they’d be near you. 

You couldn’t breathe, trying to pretend like you were still sleeping as you panicked on what to do. 

You could wait until they were near, jump out at the last second to attack them. But you didn’t know how big they were or if they had a weapon on them. 

Three steps. 

You could wait until they were close enough and flee, hop over the couch and dash. 

Two steps. 

You could- 

And then they were there, knees aligning with the part of the couch your head was laying on as you felt their presence near you, doing your best to pretend to be sleeping. You almost flinch when a hand comes to push some hair behind your ear, thinking you might have given yourself away. They would surely know you were awake after that. But they didn’t. Just continued to fix your hair. 

You needed Eddie. You needed him right now because you had no clue what to do. 

If this person hurt you right now you’d never get to talk to Eddie again, never get to beat him at scrabble or laugh when he fell. Never get to dance around his room like the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

You’d never get to see him smile again. 

A pathetic reason to live, you note, that the one reason you wanted to remain on this earth hated how much you clung to him. 

But, Eddie lived in a world of fight. 

Eddie would fight. 

You snap out your hand first, hitting them in the knee hard enough to pull a yelp before opening your eyes to grab the lamp from the side table, using our strength the pull it from the socket before hauling it over their head hard enough to knock them down. You dash them, snatching the phone as you crawl to hide dialing the first number that came to mind. 

The figure stands quickly and from where you hid behind the kitchen counter you can see them catch sight of you when you peer around, knowing you couldn’t waste time. You drop the phone, scrambling to get up as they run for you. 

You dash for the garage door as the intruder trips over the phone chord and flies to the ground, reaching out a hand to snatch your ankle and drag you down. 

You hit the ground with a scream, cheek slamming into the wood and teeth biting your own lip as you claw at the floor to not get dragged. Only once you realize it was a must point you allow it, turning a bit to let them drag you before slamming your foot in their face hard enough you hear bone cracking. 

Their hand lets go of you to fly and cover the nose you can’t see through the mask, tilting their head up to staunch the blood as they stagger up. They tumble on their way to the garage door, taking the exit you had just planned on taking to escape as you crawled back to the kitchen, shaking uncontrollably until your back was to the cabinets and your head was tucked into your arms. 

You don’t know how long you were there, couldn’t have been that long if you knew Eddie’s driving, before you heard the front door slam open as he called for you. You hear the pattern of his sneakers on the floor as he checks the house, finding you in mere moments. 

His hands are soft, yet firm, when they trace up your arm and you can’t really hear any of the words he’s mumbling due to the ringing in your ears but your eyes watch his lips move as he keeps trying to get to you. “Let me see. I need to see.” 

You blink, still focusing on reading his lips as he gets closer and attempt to undo your arms. And then it all falls apart, you can’t fight it anymore, launching onto him with a tight hold as you sob uncontrollably. 

He shoves his face in your neck, the wetness from his own tears sliding down your skin as you both cling to one another. 

- 

“I get that you’re doing your job Hopper.” Wayne scoffs, hands on his hips as he stands in front of you protectively. “But three people have already talked to her. It’s 1 am. She needs sleep.” 

“This is a serious thing here, Wayne.” Hopper sigh, taking off his hat. “We just need to make sure these statements are clear. Anything she might be able to note would help us.” 

“She’s done. No more.” Wayne snaps, turning to where Eddie enters the room with a bag packed for you. 

“You see anything out of shape up there?” Hopper asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes. Everything. Everything in her room is out of order.” Eddie nods, hands tightened into fists at his sides, he turns to look at you, noting your gaze on your hands and actively relaxes them, trying to make it seem calm. “Can we go?” 

“Yes. Nancy Drew, you tell me if you hear from your father alright?” 

You swear you mumble out a yes, but nothing sounds out and you just stare blankly ahead, unable to move your body until Wayne and Eddie are on either side of you helping you stand. 

“I drove my car here. You drove the van?” Wayne asks, keeping a hand on your shoulder as they lead you out. The smell of rain is the first thing you notice, the feeling of damp earth beneath your feet in the next. 

“Yeah. Sorry you had to leave work.” Eddie mumbles out, eyes driving to your bare feet in the grass. 

“Don’t be sorry, boy. Family helps family.” Wayne scoffs, grabbing the bag Eddie packed from him before nodding to his car. “She’ll ride home with me.” 

“But-“ Eddie rushes to argue, taking a step closer to you as if he could fight off the separation. 

“We need to restock the first aid kit. And you need to relax a moment. Take the time. Come home when you arent grinding your teeth together.” Wayne supplies, leading you to his car with an apologetic smile. “I don’t have the great tunes he does. You’ll bare with an old man?” 

You try to nod….. you know you don’t. 

- 

Wayne makes quick work of the trailer, not shocking since the man always seemed to know how to put people at ease. You follow behind him with shaky steps as he walks you through to triple check every windows lock, showing that none of them have been touched, before making sure all the curtains are closed. By the time he leads you to Eddie’s room he checks the window, showing you its lock before closing the curtain and even going as far as to snatch a blanket and cover the window with that since the curtains weren’t the strongest. 

The room uses Eddie’s lamp by the door to light it, casting a faint glow around Wayne when he pushes your shoulders for you to sit down and kisses your head before moving to the living room. There must be a million things he wants to do right now, having been pulled away from work, and you half expect him to leave you to it. But when he comes back in with a book and sits on the desk chair you feel a warmth in your heart, watching him act like nothing was happening but still remaining close was doing everything to help ease you from fleeing. 

“I’m sorry.” You croak out, fighting off more tears as your hands reach up to cover your face. “No more. I swear it.” 

“Hey. Now you listen to me.” Wayne mutters, sliding closer to grab your arms. “This ain’t your fault.”

“But I was l-“ 

“This ain’t your fault. This ain’t your mysteries fault. All this tells us it that you’re close to catching someone who is doing something they know ain’t right.” He explains, squeezing your arms gently. “You and Eddie find yourselves in more trouble than any of us could manage to if we looked for it. But that’s just cause you catch them when they are bad people. Whoever broke into your house tonight knows you’re onto them. Bad people do bad things not to get caught.” 

You nod, letting him run circles onto your arm until the familiar sound of the screen door sounds out and you all but jump out of your skin, breathing halting and limbs getting ready to jump before Wayne eases you. “We locked it remember? Only Eddie has the key.” 

And sure enough Eddie came into view, with paper bags in his arms that he hands off to Wayne when the older man stands to meet him. “I picked up some other stuff. Jordan threw in some treats for….. a lot of people know already.” He huffs, wiping his jacket as if the bags were nasty before Wayne nods and heads down the hall leaving Eddie with you. 

He watches you as he shuts the door, almost as if asking if you felt better keeping it open before shucking off his jacket and shoes near his desk, shuffling over to sit on his knees in front of you on the bed, gazing up at you. 

Eddie was many things. Loud, impatient, headstrong. He was more likely to learn everyone’s names first and crack a conversation open with one joke. He laughed like he didn’t care which tended to make others laugh just as hard and he always cheered everyone around him up when he sensed that they were down. You had seen him do it countless times. 

So when he looks to you, with a devastated face, your heart cracks a bit once you realize that he doesn’t know what to do. 

“I tried grabbing some clothes but you’re room wa pretty ransacked. They took your sleuthing kit.” He whispers, gesturing to the bag sitting in the corner that Wayne had brought in for you. “I couldn’t see if any-“ 

He stops short when you hold back a sob, trying to pull himself closer to you as if he could absorb all the pain. Your legs wrap around him as his arms encircle you, pulling you in until you’re both on his floor and he’s just holding you, rocking you back and forth. 

Finally you manage to calm down, closing your eyes a bit before moving to pull away. His grip tightens and he makes a sound of disapproval before you do manage to get out of his arms, struggling to stand so you could walk over to his closet to grab a shirt. It’s quick work changing, shuffling out of your shirt and shorts to put his on before turning back to see him staring at you with wide eyes. A flush travels your skin before you attempt a shrug, moving to sit on his bed. 

He catches on then, shuffling to change out his own shirt, getting rid of the pajama pants he wore outside to just his boxers before following you to the bed. You sit across from eachother, criss cross apple sauce, blinking eachother like you used to as kids. 

“Truth or dare.” He blurts, fingers ghosting over your knee. 

“Dare.” 

“I dare you to go to the hospital tomorrow like you should have tonight.” He smiles and you roll your eyes, nodding. 

“Truth or dare.” 

“Dare of course.” He scoffs which nearly had you smiling. 

“I dare you….i dare you to……” 

“Wasting my time.” 

“Oh fine. I dare you to touch your tongue to an elbow.” You mumble out, shrugging. He of course attempts it immediately, failing. So he tries again, pushing his elbow in to get it closer to his tongue as his neck extends out. No such luck. Then he gives up and reaches for your arm, licking your elbow as you laugh out. 

He smiles back, shrugging. “You didn’t say it had to be my elbow. My turn. Truth or truth.” 

“Oh. Tough options. Hmmmmm.” You tease, pretending to contemplate. “Truth.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is low, guttural even, tilting his head to watch you intently.  “Or you want to get some sleep?” 

“Sleep.” You rush out, watching him nod before throwing himself back on the bed and patting the spot next to him. You push to lay there, letting him pull the blanket to cover you both before you turn your head to the lamp. “Aren’t you gonna turn that off?” 

“No. I think we need it tonight.” He shrugs, and you don’t understand but it’s so late you just breathe in his scent and let sleep claim you. 

It isn’t long before you wake up with a gasp, shooting up in a panic and blinking in your surroundings, the lamp allowing you to see everything you need before laying back down by Eddie. He’s awake, you know it, but he’s pretending to sleep so you don’t worry. 

You don’t. Instead you shove your nose into his side and fall asleep once more. 

- 

“Come on kids.” Wayne calls, knocking on the doorframe to wake you both up. “We gotta stop by the house and see what the damage is.” 

Eddie groans, grabbing a pillow to cover his ears and face before turning over to ignore Wayne. You blink slowly, sitting up to rub your face, gasping in pain when the palm of your hand hits the sore skin. “Shit.” 

This has Eddie shooting to sit up, pulling your hand away to inspect the damage, grimacing a bit. “The black eye formed.” 

“I didn’t hit my eye.” You argue, pulling a finger up to press at the skin. 

“No you just hit half your face. The eye with it.” He huffs, shaking his head. “We’ll be right out Uncle Wayne.” 

The older man nods, shutting the door behind him before heading into the bathroom while Eddie struggles to get off the mattress and reach to finally turn off the light. 

He turns to pick up your bag, digging through it to find you clothes that would match the weather as you turn to lay back down, trying to ignore the world. 

“You gonna sulk in here all day?” He huffs, coming to sit by where you are laying, your body almost curling around him as he reaches a hand to play with your hair. You nearly flinch, but it’s so different when Eddie does it. And you feel like you could breathe once his hands are on you so you sigh out and lean forward to press your forehead into his thigh. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“Right about what?” 

“No more cases. No more mysteries.” You whine, trying to keep your eyes closed, the pain in your face not disappearing. “I mean it this time.”

“No no. We’re in it now.” Eddie argues, tracing his finger on your cheek. “I’ve got a score to settle and you’ve got to figure out what happened to Holly.” 

“But we’re dealing with a crazy-”

“You’re just giving up cause we’ve been fighting and you’re in pain. That’s not fair.” Eddie huffs, pulling his hand away. “I know you. You’re not gonna sleep until you know what happened. You are going to go day by day wondering what the heck happened. Until the bags under your eyes have homes of their own and full time jobs. I have known you for so long that I can read every single look on your face and this defeated look? It’s my least favorite.”

“Half my face is purp-”

“Holly deserved better. And you’re gonna find it.” He snaps back. “This…. This is why I hate the cases.”

“What?”

“You’re hurt, physically and mentally. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. There will always be moments that I am not there because as much as I want to stitch you to me so I can always know you’re safe and always have you near me there will be moments I cannot get to you in time.”

“We could…”

“We could?”

“Stitch ourselves together.”

“Nancy Drew….. I might just take you up on that. But first…..” He tilts his head as he holds up your clothes, shaking them a bit before pushing his hands under your arms and pulling you up and out of the bed. You both stagger a bit before you catch your footing, his face so close to yours you can feel his breath on you. 

“I’m sorry. None of what I said was silly. I shouldn’t have said any of it….. I just…. Can’t have you mad at me anymore because that was terrifying.”

“Me getting attacked?”

“Yes. And the thought of you never forgiving me.” He smiles, leaning forward a bit before his pinkie is extended. “Nancy Drew?”

“You got it.” You latch your pinkie onto his and when you both used to smash your foreheads together today he lays his against yours and closes his eyes, breathing you in for a moment. Then he leans forward, his lips grazing yours for just a split second before he moves to pull back. 

But you were tired, and you just wanted him. 

So you leaned, chasing him to catch your lips onto his. They were warm, plush, and it was awkward for a moment as he froze up before his hands dropped the clothes and came up to weave into your hair as he gave in. The kiss was magnetic, both of you melding together as the heat overtook you. 

And finally you felt like everything was in place. 

“Hey you two!” Wayne calls from down the hall, making you both jump back in shock. “The Hardy Boys are here!”

“The who?” Eddie whispers, face scrunched up in confusion. 

“The Hardy Boys were detectives that teamed up with Nancy Drew in the books.”

“Right…. So who the fuck are the Hardy Boys?”

- 

Wayne had no clue what was about to hit him when he let not only you and Eddie into his car, but Gareth and Jeff as well. 

You had made the way into the backseat and before Eddie could sit by you his two friends slid in from either side, and immediately started asking questions. Eddie glares but gives in, taking a seat in the front and risking a glance back at you. 

His eyes melt the second you make eye contact and your body flushes, staring at each other for a moment. It’s interrupted by Jeff. “I drove down to the station this morning.”

“WE did.” Gareth corrects.

“YOU slept in the back of my car and I went in so check yourself boy.” Jeff snaps back making a smile break onto your face. “I asked for records on Benson Cane-”

“Let me guess. Hopper said no?” Eddie asks, shaking his head a bit while Wayne chuckles under his breath. 

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Rules and crap. Hopper is the worst with it. Unless he trusts you.”

“Let me guess, Nancy Drew here is his favorite?” 

“Eddie is. Eddie always brings treats when we go see him. But he is a lot easier to deal with now.” You correct, shrugging a bit as Wayne pulls up to your house. 

“Alright crew. Try not to be too much in there. Let Nancy Drew here pack what she needs while I border up that window.”

“Wait? Window?” You call as they all rush to exit the car. Eddie waits for you to slide out, pointing up to your window where the window is completely busted. He stays close as you walk through the house, following you to the room where everything is turned upside down. 

“This is wrong.”

“How so?” 

“When….. When the letter was stolen the window was shut but whoever came in to grab it didn’t break the window.” You begin to explain, eyes tracing around your room. “They knew what they wanted and they took it. But this…. They broke the window coming in, they rifled through every little thing.”

“Yeah….” Eddie nods, flicking a feather that had fallen from one of your pillows. 

“They grabbed my sleuthing kit… but nothing was in it. This person didn’t know what they needed. And the person I fought downstairs didn’t have anything on them when they ran out.” You note, both Gareth and Jeff nodding vehemently. “And the one downstairs was comfortable, he walked around like he owned the place and wasn’t worried about making sounds on the floor boards.”

“What does this mean?” 

“It means 2 different people were in her house last night.” Eddie seethes, looking around the room. “One involved with Holly. The other…. Wanting her…..”

Shit. 

- 

“Benson Cane works at the school as a janitor. He would know when she started investigating.” Jeff nods, explaining the rest of his work from this morning. 

“So what do we do now?” Gareth asks, eyes filled with a bit of fear. 

“We set a trap.” Eddie huffs, his hand tracing the edges of your thigh under the table as he glares at the diner menu before him. “It’s what we always do when we have a suspect.”

“There you guys are!” A shrill voice calls making all three of the boys jump a bit and whirl to find Trish walking up. 

“She’s so pretty .” You huff, because watching her walk through the diner felt like watching a slow motion scene from one of Eddie’s films. 

“Wait until you get stuck with her talking about her nails for 40 fucking minutes.” Eddie huffs in your ear, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“She can’t be that bad.” You offer back. 

“Trust me…. She is.” Jeff supplies, and you can’t help but look over to where Gareth tries standing in the booth with moon eyes, hitting his hip on the table so hard all the drinks slosh. 

Eddie curses out, trying to catch the drinks with ringed hands before they spill everywhere while Trish comes up to the table. And it’s awkward because she stands by the table, staring at where you sit with long blinks. 

“Hi… it’s nice to see you ag- Oh! Wait you want to sit here-” You rush to stand up, feeling awkward by her stare before Eddie pulls you back down. 

“We share food, easier if we sit together.”

“Besides, I want to stretch out my legs. Let me grab a chair.” Jeff adds, standing up to let her sit down before sliding a chair over to sit at the end of the table. 

Eddie keeps a hand on you while Trish blinks. “You poor thing.”

What are you supposed to say to that? What is something normal to say? Gareth nods, tapping his fingers on the table before turning to show his cut on his cheek. “Look what happened to me.”

Jeff rolls his eyes, Eddie groans and you try not to smile. Poor Gareth. 

“You guys are gonna be all beat up for the spring formal.” Trish giggles, fixing her hair. 

“The spring formal?” You blink, turning to Eddie. 

“Yeah silly! They moved up the date but they are gonna use the prom queen crown from that missing girl's case.”

“Wait the crown?”

“Yeah! It was left in the glass case on friday! Creepy right?” She smiles as Eddie whips his head to you. 

“I think…. I think I know what happened….” You nod, making him smile. “And I have a plan.”

“What do you need?”

“A dress.” 

You solved the case, and now you just needed to lay a trap.

-

Do you know what happened to Holly? Who do you think did it? Let me know, because the finale is coming soon!

Next Part : The Crown And The Glory.

Taglist :: (Let me know if you want to be added or removed)

@xlostitx - @gagasbee - @heavenlyhorrors - @georgeweasleyslostearhq - @dreamerjj - @justalotoffanfiction - @transparent-enemy - @cowboylikemunson - @introvertedmouse

[ultralightpoe]

Cold Cases And So Forth- Eddie Munson

Authors Note: the second part was so long that I split it into 2. I’m not quite done but this part should be a hoot -Ultralightpoe

Warnings: cursing, slight signs of depression, getting “hit” with a car.

Word Count: 8+K

Description: The reader and Eddie are on a mystery break due to obvious reasons.

Main Master List - - Stranger Things Master List

Previous Part: Nancy Drew

[Thank You For The GIF @dailystrangerthings ]

Enjoy!

Haven’t read the first part? Find it here

The Case Of ….. Nope. No More Cases.

“The piece you did on the bathrooms was…..” Brenda Carlton begins, dark eyebrow raising as she slams the most recent school paper on your makeshift desk, her french tip nail pressing into the words in a three motion tap before dragging it up to point to you. You glare at her hand the entire time, narrowing your eyes at the rose gold ring that glints under the cheap lights of the school. “It was something…”

Boring was the word she was looking for. Utterly boring. You had nearly fallen asleep while writing it. The question was why your rival at the school paper seemed bothered by the fact that you wouldn’t be writing any hard hitting exposes anymore.

“Switching from two ply to one ply was really messed up.” You shrug, turning back to the photos you had in front of you, randomly pushing them around in hopes that if you looked busy enough she would leave you alone and find someone else to bother. But she doesn’t, instead she stays there tapping her nails in an impatient manner as you struggle not to roll your eyes. “Is there something I can do for you Brenda?”

“Yes actually.” She huffs, flicking some hair behind her shoulder as she follows you through the journalism room. “You can tell me what the heck is wrong with you.”

“A lot as I’m told.” You snip, looking for something to do. Anything to do, you needed to look busy to avoid this conversation and to avoid eye contact.

“Does this have something to do with Munsons new girlfriend?” She blurts, and you try not to react, but nothing can fight off the way your body locks up at the mention. And she catches this detail, of course she does. “Oh it so does.”

“Can you fuck off Brenda?” You snap, turning to her with a glare before trying to correct yourself. “I mean, I just meant-”

“Oh I get it now. Eddie dumped you cause he’s got the new girlfriend who is all like hottie with the body. Barf. And now you are all sad and aren’t doing that sleuthing thing.” She yaps, turning to where Nancy Wheeler currently sat staring at you both. “That’s so sad…. Isn’t it Nance?”

“It’s…..”

“Sad. We get it. I get it. Can everyone please just….. find something else to be doing with their time?” It’s another lame attempt, and you were sure your eyes welling with tears would just make it worse, yet when Brenda looked at you something changed on her face. She straightened her posture a bit, fixing her sweater and clearing her throat before pushing out a folder she had been carrying. You grab it quickly, pulling it to you and nearly ripping it up once you see one of the teardrops land in the corner.

“This is your assignment. As much as it pains me I wanted to give it to our best writer, so if you can get your head out of your ass and give me a good expose on the missing prom queen I’d be so grateful.” She huffs, turning in a fluid motion and stomping off while you set the folder down and open it up to a pretty smile looking up at you.

You were assigned a prom queen for your next piece. A prom queen that probably had a line of friends and plans every weekend. A prom queen that wasn’t so odd.

Leave it to Brenda Carlton to kick a girl while she’s down.

“What am I supposed to do with an empty folder that has one photo?” You scoff, slamming a hand down and moving to find a trash can to shove this photo into before Nancy Wheeler interrupts.

“Hawkins tries not to talk about her too much. You should try the library yearbooks.” She supplies, grabbing her bag and hefting it in one fluid motion. “I think people all wrote goodbye messages to her in it.”

“Right.” You nod, shoving the folder in with the rest of your school books in attempt to seem natural. Casting a side glance to the doors you would be exiting from here in a moment.

Call it paranoia but your heartbeat accelerates when you see a figure leaning against the wall next to the door, the longer hair recognizable even through the foggy glass. Stupid.

If routine was followed he still would have had 30 minutes of his meeting, if this was 2 weeks ago you would have walked to the theatre doors and read a bit while you waited for him. But this was not 2 weeks ago and you really wished he wasn’t out there.

“Here.” Brenda hisses, snapping your attention to where she and Nancy currently stood holding up a window by the sink. “Hurry up Nancy Drew.”

And you do, dashing to the window, putting all your work in your bag before tossing it out and looking to see how much of a fall it is. “Just two stories.”

“Is that supposed to help her Nance?” Brenda hisses.

“Why are you helping me?” You blurt, preparing yourself to climb out, tying up your hair as both girls blink at you.

“I would have given anything for someone to save me from the awkward debacle of Tommy and I getting caught at lovers lane in between town borders.” Brenda admits, cringing a bit. “My god. Hopper was so awkward, and then he accused us of carving into the tree right next to Tommys car and by the time we got back to town everyone knew including Carol and-”

“Message received.” You nod, climbing the sink and pushing your legs out the window. “And I really appreciate it.”

And for the first time ever Brenda Carlton helped you, and you closed your eyes to jump.

…

As it turns out jumping from a 2 story building hurts, more so the knee you landed on hurts and the rest of your body was merely a dull ache. But you would take a hurt knee and sore limbs over having another heartbreaking conversation with Eddie Munson any day of the week.

It’s kind of ironic how it all came about, and it’s embarrassing just how right he was. Every single day you have wanted to call him, for two weeks now. You get the urge to pick up the phone, and you always do, but halfway through his number you remember what he said and always end up slamming the phone back down. He was right, if you couldn’t go two damn weeks without going crazy then he was right.

And when the only person you talk to doesn’t want to talk to you anymore it becomes easy to realize just how lonely a person truly is.

You were not ready to have this argument with Eddie again, because he was right. The second he removes himself you are left with nothing, no one. He. Was. Right.

Codependent. Odd. Annoying. Clingy. Obsessive.

“You okay, kiddo?’ Your dad calls, pulling you from your thoughts as you look up in a panic to see him getting out of his car. “Why are you limping?”

“I fell. Why are you home so early?”

“You fell? On one of your cases? I don’t want you doing anything dangerous-”

“I’m not on a case.” You correct, feeling like you just got punched in the gut again. “I don’t do those anymore. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I was worried…. About you.” He admits, reaching in to pull out a bag of fast food. “I brought dinner home. Maybe you can tell me about what’s bugging you.”

And at dinner you find a boring excuse for why he thinks you’re acting weird. Stress from school work, the weather, anything to get him off your back. He eats it all up, smiling in relief that you weren’t involved in anything dangerous before kissing your head and leaving you to clean up the dinner mess.

Once you are in bed he shuffles in with an ice pack for your knee, looking around the room. “Something different in here?”

“Nope,” You lie, shrugging a bit as his eyes narrow before he nods and leaves. But if he really looked he’d have seen the empty bookshelves, void of all your mystery novels. No more nancy drew, goodbye agatha christie, sherlock holmes can rot in the trash. And normally hanging from that bookshelf is another addition that has been thrown away. Your sleuth kit.

You were done with that life. Since it was so…. Odd.

-

The Case Of The Nasty Library.

“I just think that tutoring might be a good use of your freed up time.” Miss Harwood, your science teacher for the semester, had offered and you had stupidly agreed to it. The entire week you had been dreading this moment, sitting in the tutoring center of the library, tapping your pencil and watching the time tick by in a taunting manner.

Because the tutoring center is completely empty, and had been for the past 40 minutes.

You were just about to give up and leave when the door to the library squeals as it’s opened, making you sit up quickly with a smile already plastered on your face in hopes to make a good impression until you spot who had come in. Gareth, the very same Gareth from Eddie’s stupid DnD group.

He seems to realize you’re the only person in the tutoring center, and when you expect him to roll his eyes and leave he instead gives a tense nod and comes to sit at the round table you are currently sitting at. And just when you think it can’t get worse he attempts a smile and a “Howdy Nancy Drew.”

You roll your own eyes, snatching up your bag and pencil to try and make an escape as he stands quickly with extended palms. “Wait okay, wait. I really need help with my math homework and you’re the only tutor her-”

“I’m not a tutor.” You rush out, the lie sticking heavy on your tongue. He blinks at you before a smug expression covers his face.

“You’re not a tutor? Which means you’re here for tutoring?”

“Yup.” You shrug, taking this chance to walk away, only two steps in and your knee is screaming in pain so instead of walking to the doors like you initially planned you divert and walk to the back, hidden behind the shelves as Gareth groans out somewhere near the tables. You loiter for a moment, debating if there was a back door before your eyes flag on the yearbooks on the bottom shelf in the far corner, and since you have time to kill avoiding Eddie’s friends like a coward you might as well look.

You toss your backpack down, pulling out the folder that is a little crinkled now before checking the name and year. “Holly Sampers…. 1971.”

But, just your luck, 1971 seems to be the only yearbook missing….. The slot it was once held is still there.

“What are you looking for?” Gareth asks, scaring you enough that you jump a little, yelling out and hitting your head on the metal of the shelf above you making him curse out and move to help you. “Jesus.”

“Can I help you with something?”

“My homework.” He replies, and you think he is being an ass for a moment until you look up and see an actual smile on his face, not one of those awkward fake smiles.

“I can’t.” You shrug, moving to stand up, ignoring his hands that reach out to help you. “And since a tutor isn’t going to show up I have to go.”

“Is that your new mystery?” Gareth teases, making you turn back. “Holly Sampers and the missing tutor?”

“So funny Gareth.” You smile, this one is all fake and poisonous. “You should tell that to your friends.”

And you feel like you won a bit when his face falls, turning to leave once more, limp and all.

…

The joy of your win doesn’t last long, an entire night to be exact, because come early morning Eddie Munson is standing by your locker with crossed arms and a glare. You spot him from down the hall, turning quickly in an effort to escape before he calls out your name in an aggravated huff.

“I already saw you.” He snaps, hands flying in an aggravated manner as he remains leaning. “And I will chase you but I’m not really in the mood so if you could-”

Knowing he won you turn back, charging for your locker and practically shoving him to the side when he refuses to move. He barely moves, his mouth opening as you get your door open, eyes widening just an inch as you push the door into his face to block him out and grab your books.

“Okay, I’d like to avoid a broken nose today, thank you ve- Hey. Come on.” He snaps, watching you close the door and turn to stomp off, coming to follow you. “Are you really making this a big fight?”

“Shove off.”

“We never fight like this. Come on. And then I gotta hear from Gareth that you’re getting tutored? And you’re limping around?” You nearly laugh at how betrayed he looks, brown eyes wide and lips downturned as he keeps pace with you, hands digging through his bag before a familiar folder is pulled out and you stop in your tracks. “And now you’re looking into Holly Sampers?”

“It’s not-”

“Is that how you got hurt?! You were looking into this bullshit?! Is that why you haven’t called me back?” It’s funny, it really is, that two weeks ago you had walked home sobbing and now Eddie is standing before you acting like HE got his heartbroken.

“Would you cut it out?” You snap, snatching the photo back and trying to smooth out a crease. “This is for the paper, it’s just a memory piece or something.”

“Quit lying-”

“I’m not! I’m not lying.” Your voice is getting louder as you wave the picture around. “This is for the paper. Go run and tell your friends now! You guys can laugh about it all you want. Nancy Drew the boring journalist. Just FUCK OFF!”

You had gone years without cussing, and within the last two weeks you had racked up quite the tally of bad words. Never once in your history had you ever cussed at Eddie let alone yelled at him like you just did. Until now, and the second you both hear it echo in the hallway it’s like a startling realization of what is happening.

You weren’t friends anymore.

You had gone from being head over heels for Eddie to wanting nothing to do with him in the same way he had made it clear he wanted less of you. Less is more. More is less. But in this case, with your heart clenching the way it was and the shaking in your hands you just wanted nothing. Nothing at all.

“Wayne is doing his birthday dinner this we-”

“I’m busy. Plans. You can come up with whatever excuse you want since we both seem to know what a pathetic loser I am.” You smile, but it just feels empty, and you don’t feel like you’ve won when you walk away. You just feel like you’ve been a fool for most of your life. Wondering how long Eddie had been waiting to get rid of you.

…

Lunch hour was spent in your own version of a mental breakdown, which meant smiling at the bored librarian as your brain wrapped around every embarrassing moment you had experienced in the past 14 years, all of which you had never considered embarrassing until recently.

Had he been annoyed when he was the only one at your birthday party 8th grade year? Was he laughing on the way home how it was just your dad and his uncle singing happy birthday?

“I was looking for a yearbook. I’m doing a memory article for- I just need to see who checked out the yearbook for 1971.” You explain, blinking as she blinks back at you.

“Of course dear. Give me a moment.” She stands, brown skirt swishing at her ankles as she steps down from the help desk and heads to the back. You tap your knuckles on the counter and pretend to care about things in the library.

The purple couches looked new.

He probably thought you were clingy when you brought the snacks for an impromptu movie night when he moved into Wayne’s…. And when you stupidly tried cleaning his room.

You nearly groan at the memory, turning until you spot a new poster. Wow. So nice, keep looking at the poster and get out of your head about-

When you went to the trailer park for Halloween, he had never actually asked you to come. Idiot.

Or the spelling bee, every morning you went to sit by him and -

“Dear?” The librarian calls, giving you an odd look. “Are you alright? I’ve been calling you for a moment.”

“I’m fine. Just so much schoolwork.”

“Oh. Well you need to take care of yourself you know? My daughter gets the biggest stress acne, or at least that’s what she claims it is. I think it’s a mix of all that makeup she’s putting on her face. Back in my day-“

“Who checked out the yearbook?” You interrupt, trying to place a smile on your face.

“Oh! Right. My records show that it was never checked out. Should be on the shelf, if not it was stolen.”

“Someone stole a yearbook?”

“Oh! You’re doing one of your little mysteries?! Nancy Drew cracking the case of the-“

“Missing tutor, missing yearbook. Missing the point.” You scoff, walking off without so much as a goodbye. It didn’t make sense, who would steal a yearbook?

It’s not like any of the students here truly cared about those yearbooks, often times they are used as decoration, no one really cared about classes before them. Unless of course it was someone who was in that class.

Which would lead to a teacher.

Which teachers at the school were here in 1971? Only 2 would have been in that class. But there were at least three that have been teaching here since the 70s.

If you had your sleuthing kit you would make a list of names and - no! No. No. No.

This was not a case, merely a book probably used as decoration and thrown out.

No more Nancy Drew. You were sick of being laughed at. And you were going to hold your word on that until you spotted the yearbook. You had taken to sitting in the back row of your English clash, that was currently being taught by Mr. Daniels who HAD gone to school here in the 70s. And when you stretched, a totally normal stretch, you took a brief look around the room just to see. And see you did. The corner of the book was peeking out from behind a file cabinet to the side. Odd.

You stare at the book until the bell rings, making you jump a bit as Mr. Daniels walks to the door to say goodbye to everyone. He had his eyes on the entire room, he would see you reach to grab the book. So you were a bit screwed.

Just as you were beginning to come up with ways you could sneak back in a male voice pulls your attention, and all you can do is blink when Joseph Storm smiles at you. “You need me to distract him?”

“If you wouldn’t mind?” You smile back, already moving closer to the file cabinet as Joseph moves to the front, tripping right in front of Mr. Daniel’s and drawing his attention just long enough you could match the yearbook before rushing out of the classroom.

“Did you get it?” Joseph asks, excitement on his face when he catches up to where you stood by the windows.

“Get what?” Another voice butts in, Gareth moving to stand by you both.

“The yearbook.” Joseph points to it, watching you flip through before coming to stand at your side to peer down with you. “What were you lookin for?”

“Just…. Her.” You explain when the prom page comes up, pointing to her picture before thumbing at the words written beneath her. “Missing. But not dead. What’s that mean?”

“Holly Sampers. She’s the prom queen that went missing AT her prom-“ Joseph begins before Gareth is cutting in, a wild look to his eyes. “Yeah! She told her friend she was going to the bathroom and like vanished without a trace!”

“Right….” Joseph nods. “They searched for weeks. Didn’t find anything connected to the case went cold.”

“Okay…. So why would Mr. Daniels have stolen this yearbook from the library?” You question to yourself, flipping through the pages to see if there are anymore handwritten messages as Gareth nods wildly.

“Good question! You know who might be able to help? Eddie. Eddie comes up with the best ideas-“

His voice cuts off when a letter falls from the pages, dragging all of you to look down to the floor. Gareth and Joseph reach to snatch it at the same time, Joseph just barely making it before he stands up to hand it to you.

“Nancy Drew, got her spark back.” He winks, fixing his backpack on his shoulder. “Let me know if you need a ride after school. I’m dying to see how this mystery unfolds.”

You can’t fight the flush that spreads through you, body heating as your heartbeat accelerates, just barely fighting the urge to cover your mouth as a nervous giggle spills out, watching him walk down the hall with a couple looks back in your direction.

“What the hell?” Gareth blurts, looking offended as you turn to him. “What the hell?”

“Is there a reason you’re here?”

“You told Eddie you’re not investigating!” He blurts, pointing an accusing finger at you as if he’s calling you a witch during the trials. “You lied!”

“I’m not. This is for the memorial piece-“

“Oh don’t you start that spew with me Nancy Drew.” It’s funny how one moment you could be blushing at the nickname and the next feel just as miserable about it as you had days ago. “You got that look in your eye. The look that means Eddie is about to be missing campaign night to run around town with you-“

“I’m not investigating.” You sigh again, moving to walk away, rolling your eyes when he follows. “And you don’t have to worry about your friend missing more campaigns. He and his girlfriend can disappear for all I care. You’ve got him till the end of time.”

“That’s not true. The second you call he’ll rush off-“

“I won’t call.” It was the truth, so when you turn to face him you don’t feel bad about lying. “I’m done with all that. No more clingy freak.”

“No one said clingy or freak.” He grimaces, face getting a little red. “And no one is saying you can’t-“

“I won’t call, Gareth. I swear it.” You even cross your heart, making a motion of locking it up and throwing away the imaginary key before heading off.

And the second you are out of his sight the letter is torn open in your hands, pages unfolding as you walk through the halls.

So here’s a question. Why would Mr. Daniels steal a yearbook? Better yet, why would Mr. Daniels be hiding a love letter written to a missing girl dated the day she disappeared?

-

The Case Of The Threatening Call.

The letter sits on your desk by your science homework, and you are pointedly ignoring both as you fold laundry, yet the small issue with ignoring things is ignoring them never actually works. Instead you just sit there and think about them non stop as you obsess over ignoring them.

It isn’t until you hear the phone ring, folding your last shirt, that you look back to where they sit, debating on if you should at least get the homework out of the way.

“Hey! Phones for you!” Your dad calls from down the stairs.

“I’m busy!” You call back, not bothering to head for the door.

“It’s Eds! Says it’s really important! I’m not taking another message from this damn boy so get down here.” For someone who was claiming you had been clingy a couple weeks ago the tables sure have turned. You are thinking of saying as much when you head down and grab the phone, and you nearly do until the receiver is just to your ear and you panic, slamming it back on the dial quickly before blinking at it. Damn you were brave. Not a coward at all.

That is until the phone rings again and you jump back.

“Dad!”

“I’m not your receptionist!”

With a roll of your eyes you pick it up, dragging it to your ear. “Eddie I’m bus-“

“Quit looking into the prom queen.” A raspy voice sounds out. “Quit while your ahead. Or you’ll be gutted just like her.”

This time when you hang up the phone it is pure panic, shaking hands and shortness of breath, slamming the receiver down so hard it sounds out through the house before you are rushing upstairs to your room again, throwing the door open.

You notice it immediately, the open window and the lack of a familiar envelope on your desk.

Shit….. they even took your science homework.

-

The Case Of The Nap Time.

It had been a long night after that, from checking all the locks 4 times and making up a bed on the couch which confused your father to no end. And even when you were laying on the couch you still jumped and panicked at every slight sound. Every creak, every wind gush hitting the windows.

You had gotten no sleep that night.

Nor the next night.

Or the night after that.

Running on coffee stolen from your dads morning pot and sugary drinks, damn near on a crash but paranoid enough to try and stay awake.

Someone had threatened to gut you, someone was in your house.

What if they did something to Holly? And what if they had done the same to you?

It all came crashing down the night of your prom, you were wearing a peach style dress with tons of frills, a simple scarf tied around your neck that kept snagging on everything as you ran from someone. Someone with wide shoulders and -

The sound of slamming wakes you from a dream you hadn’t even known you were having, and you look around in a panic as you realize that you had fallen asleep in the library of all places.

“We came here to say sorry.” Jeff sighs, giving Doug a glare as the textbook that had just been slammed to wake you up is in his hands. “We weren’t being fair. Eddie just wants us all to-“

“You sound like you rehearsed this.” Gareth interrupts, making Jeff turn his glare to him. “What? You do!”

“Then let’s see what you have!”

“Fine. Eddie is really sorry and we are sorry for being asses too. There, all better! Come on Nancy Drew. Let’s go get Ed-“

“You liked Trish.” You note, blinking at him through the fog of your nap. “You liked Trish and now that I’m not crazy clinger he’s hanging around more and she’s hanging around him most of all.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“You’re wearing her bracelet.” A cute purple and red friendship bracelet. One quite like what Dana Mitchell wore everyday. They must be friends. Gareths hand comes up to cover the bracelet, giving you an odd look. “Don’t bother lying. I can see the puppy dog look on your face. Like recognizes like.”

“Damn Gareth. She got you.” Jeff laughs until Gareth punches his shoulder.

“I gotta get to class..” Doug growls out. “And I don’t want to be on Munsons shit list when this goes sideways.”

With that he is off, rushing out while the other two take a seat across from you.

“We propose to share Eddie 50/50.”

“I’ll pass.”

“40/60.”

“I’m not gonna sit here and bid on someone’s time when they’ve made it clear they don’t want me to.” You scoff, pushing your book forward.

“That’s the thing. He’s miserable now.” Jeff growls, rolling his eyes. “Whiny. You you you. Everything is about you. You like this for breakfast and if the two of you were hanging out right now you would be cracking this joke.”

His words make your heart beat pick up, until you remember just how quick Eddie was to snap at you the other day. Always around me. Always attached. So codependent.

“Can we just save the drama?” You whine, beginning to form a headache.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Gareth blurts, giving you a judgy look before Jeff nods with him.

“I…..” technically they had woken you up, and you could say that. But you’re so tired. “Someone was in my house. I have been struggling to-“

“Someone was in your house?” Gareth snaps, leaning forward.

“It’s no big deal. They just took something small. Nothing else.” You rush out, already regretting this.

“The letter. They took that letter didn’t they?” He rushes out, already beginning to stand. “What else?”

“Nothing-“

“Liar.” Jeff adds.

“Fine. I got a call. It was just a prank- where are you going?”

“To get Eddie?” He says it like it should be obvious, like Eddie was the next choice. You immediately shake your head.

“No. Come on. It’s fine.”

“You know we gotta tell him. Otherwise he’s gonna be pissed off.” Jeff explains.

“You don’t. Really. Come on. Isn’t tonight your campaign stuff? You want him there for that right?” You know you got them the second Jeff narrows his eyes.

“Fine. But we tell him tomorrow morning.” He snaps, grabbing Gareth by the shoulder and hauling him out.

Perfect. You just had until tomorrow morning to solve this cas…… problem. Solve the problem.

Step one. Lovers lane. Which Mr. Daniels had asked Holly to meet him in the letter.

You waited until after school, and after dinner, then you snatched up your bike and got ready to head over there, a shakey feeling in your stomach.

The first two blocks were easy, the third is when you realized you were being followed, so you tried speeding up with the pedals, taking last minute turns as the car following you sped up.

You take a quick cut into the alley, expecting to lose them, only when you come out the other end the car is there, hitting your bike as the brakes squeal out. You go flying over the hood, hands finding purchase on the glass of the front window before before rolling forward at the force of fhe brake, flying off the hood and onto the street below.

“Fuck! Are you crazy?!” Gareth yells, hopping out the driver side to come help pick you up off the street. “Come on. I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No im fine. You barely got me.” You rush out, standing to punch him in the face. He yells out, falling on his ass and holding his nose as you stare down at him. “Why are you following me?!”

“Oh my god-“

“Were you the one that called me?!”

“No! Fuck! No! Don’t hit me again!” He panics, sliding back on the sidewalk to avoid you. “From all the stories- fuck I’m bleeding.”

“Wasting my time!” You warn.

“Fuck! Okay, Eddie is constantly talking about you and from everything he’s said I knew you wouldn’t just let it drop. And so- ugh- I ditched DnD to come find you which wasn’t hard cause you were already sneaking out!”

“So you’re here to what?”

“Help?”

“You’re gonna help me?”

“Just get in the car..” he snaps, standing up to haul your bike, which now has a dented tire. With no other choice to get in, watching him toss the bike into the trunk before getting in the drivers seat, using his flannel to try and stop the nose bleed.

“Who taught you to hit like that?”

“Wayne.” You mumble, looking out the window as you remember the night he taught you and Eddie self defense. It had been right after the Halloween parade when you had been chased by someone in a zombie mask until Eddie hit them with a rake.

“Where were you heading?”

“Lovers lane.”

“I’m not driving you to lovers lake. That’s in the woods-“

“Lane. Lovers Lane. It’s from older times. Where they used to go.” You groan, moving to open the car door before he stops you, starting the car. “Why are you helping me? Shouldnt you be laughing at me?”

“We never meant to…… Eddie is just really cool and we always kinda saw you like a goodie two shoes.” He explains, driving down the road. “We didn’t really want to get along with you. And every time Eddie missed a campaign we always blamed you. But Eddie constantly talks about you, his entire planet orbits around you.”

Yeah, you think. What bullshit.

“I wouldn’t say that.” You huff, trying to ignore the tight feeling forming in your throat or the way your voice breaks a bit. “He was pretty truthful and nasty that day at the diner.”

“Nasty? Maybe. But truthful? Not even close.” Gareth sighs. “We had been bashing on him pretty hard. Had been making fun of him, calling him lovesick and stuff.”

“Is it really that big of a laugh to think me likable?” You snap, trying to swipe away a stray tear quickly. Of course they made fun of him for those things, with you always hanging off of him like a lovesick puppy and all. It was embarrassing. “Was I that easily read?”

“No. We just knew he-“

“Up there. You can drop me off there.” And he is quick to pull over, watching you jump out quickly and move to grab your bike. Only he hops out and goes to help. “What are you doing? I got it from here.”

“Bullshit. I’m not leaving you here alone.” He huffs back, giving you a glare. “Leave the bike. Look at what you came to look at.”

You nod, hating that this is where your night led, turning to go look before stopping short. “I don’t have my bag.”

“So?”

“It has my flashlight. And camera.”

“I….. I might have one.” He walks around the car, digging into the passenger box before pulling one out, handing it to you. It seems natural, and you wait for a snippy response until you realize he is waiting on you to lead the way.

This is when it gets awkward. You’re so used to Eddie, the way he hovers and looks at things over your shoulder. Gareth? Not so much. He’s jumpy, every sound makes him freak, which is making you feed off his energy. He keeps a hand on your jacket, wound tight like a dog on a leash as you look around.

“Why are we here anyways?” He asks, flinching when you step on a twig.

“It was in that letter. Mr. Daniels wrote a love letter to Holly the day she disappeared asking to meet here. I want to see if there is anything saying they might have .”

“Hasn’t it been like 10 years? And no one comes here anymore. We go to lovers lake now.”

“That’s not true. People who are embarrassed or don’t wanna get caught by classmates come here. Like Brenda and Tommy-“ you stop before remembering what Brenda had said to you that day. Her and Tommy had gotten caught and Hopper accused them of carving in the tree. “Look at the trees. For a carving”

It takes a minute before you spot it. H.S. + B.C. Carved into a tree. “That looks fresh.” Gareth notes as you run a hand over it. “And deep. Someone must add to it a lot so it doesn’t disappear.”

“You’d really have to love someone for that.” You ponder, staring at it.

“What the fuck?!” Gareth panics, his entire body moving as he rushes to remove his shirt, turning his back to you. “What just bit me?!”

“I don’t see anything!” You rush back, looking at his back.

“Look harder!” He snaps, and you take to feeling for a bump before a pair of headlights makes you both freeze. “The light. Turn the light off now!”

You do as he says, but not before adding “they are right by your car. They know people are here.”

“I will not be dying with Nancy Drew in the woods. Let’s go.” He snatches your arm, attempting to hide you both further, squatting behind a bush like idiots. The sounds of doors slamming fills the air and Gareth flinches while you paw at the ground beneath you for something to fight with. Your hand ends up finding…. A ring?

“On the count of three we run. Got it?” Gareth whispers and you nod, then the idiot doesn’t even count he just books it. Launching into the night with you trying to keep up.

You break the tree line, and see the freedom of his car before a blur of motion and someone is attacking Gareth. Tackling him to the ground until they both slide and you see Eddie pulling his hand back to punch.

“Wait stop!” You call, rushing to stop his arm as Jeff moves to intervene as well, both of you shoving Eddie off. “It’s Gareth. You’re attacking Gareth.”

“I’m fucking aware.” Eddie barks out as Jeff pushes him back again, his eyes wild and fists still clenched. You move to help Gareth up, turning him to inspect the damage on his back, scraped up pretty bad. Most of them bleeding and “Hey. I see the bite mark.”

A slight laugh pulls from you as you touch the mark a little bit before another blur of motion and Gareth is pushed from you with Eddie’s back in your face.

“I should break your jaw.”

“What did I do?” Gareth questions, face pinched with confusion.

“You ditch DnD after giving me shit for weeks, Jeff here tells me that you came to find her and-“

“You’re attacking me cause I missed DnD?!”

“I’m attacking you cause you’re at Lovers lane with your SHIRT OFF!” Eddie exclaims, the zipper of his leather jacket catching in the light. “And you obviously know you’re doing wrong with the way you were trying not to get caught!”

“His shirts off cause he was bit by something.” You interject, pointing over Eddie’s shoulder until he slaps your hand away and turns a slight glare at you. “And he only brought me cause he hit me with his car.”

“Hit you with a car?!” Eddie exclaims, a vein popping in his forehead before his gaze travels across you looking for something. His hands fly to your jaw, thumbs rubbing softly as he inspects. “Are you hurt? Anything hurt? Your eyes are dilated- her eyes are dilated Gareth-“

“Her eyes are not- she hit me in the face!” Gareth protests before Eddie spots your bike.

“How hard did you hit her?!” He lets go of you to pull at the bent tire, turning and all but growling at Gareth.

“She was sneaking out after being threatened!”

And just like that Eddie’s glare is turned to you. “Threatened?!”

“Oh barely.”

“Someone broke into her house-“ Jeff adds, and Eddie looks damn near ready to shoot himself as his eyes close and hands come up to rub his head.

“Someone. Broke. Into. Your. House. And you were threatened? Yet you’re still out biking around town? Why didn’t you call me…….. or- you could have called me.” His eyes open as he glares at you, and you hate the twisted feeling forming in your gut at the look, beginning to make you feel guilty.

“You made it clear you didn’t want me to-“ you start, even though the argument feels useless in this moment. It’s especially useless when Eddie rushes you, pushing your back into what you now recognize as his van as his face comes level with yours. “Enough.”

“You’re the one that-“

“Enough.” He repeats, glaring. “You’ve made your point. We will sort it out later. Right now you tell me everything.”

“I already told you-“

“She was looking into Holly Scampers. Realized the yearbook from that year was stolen and then found it in Mr. Daniel’s room. Then that Joseph kid distracted him so she could steal it and then he flirted with her like an ass and was all ‘Nancy Drew got her spark back’. -bleh- you know? And then she found a letter and that Joseph kid asked if she needed help -bleh- and then the letter got stolen and now she’s here and we just found a carving in a tree.” Gareth explains, making Jeff laugh with the impersonations of Joseph. Eddie? He didn’t laugh, in fact he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Anything else you wanna add?” He mutters, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Nope.”

“She fell asleep during study hall today-“

“Gareth!” You groan. “Apart of sleuthing is shutting your damn mouth!”

“How was I supposed to know that? No one gave me a rulebook and you hit me in the face!”

“After you hit me with your car!” You argue, moving to push past Eddie though he doesn’t allow you, casting a side glance at the boys before turning to glare at you.

“We’re done. Get in.”

“No. I’ll go with Gareth.” You argue, only to see Jeff already hopping in his car. “Fucking traitor.”

“Just get in. I’ll take you home.” He repeats, opening the passenger door for you with a tense smile.

“Right home?”

“Yup.”

“No detours?”

“None.”

“You promise?”

“Swear it, Nancy Drew.”

“Don’t call me that.” You snap, taking a deep breath in before moving past him to get in the car without glancing back. He, aggravatingly so, waits until your buckled and even stops to inspect a cut on your knee before slamming the door and rounding the car.

“It smells terrible in here.” You scoff, leaning as far away from him as possible and rolling down your window.

“I need to get a new air freshener.” He explains, fingers reaching up to flick the old one. “Had other things on my mind recently. Believe it or not.”

Yeah, a gorgeous girlfriend that your best friend is in love with you think bitterly before leaning your head against the door frame and letting the night air hit you.

Your eyes snap awake when the door moves open, looking around in a panic before they land on where Eddie stands with a grimace, hand extended to help you out of the van. “Come on. Let’s go.”

You ignore his hand, hopping down on your own before stopping short. “You said no detours. Right home.”

“I did.” He smiles innocently, closing the door and locking it before walking up casually, his feet crunching on the gravel beneath him.

“This isn’t my home.”

“Ah, see there’s the problem. I said home. I never said which home.” He fakes a grimace, snapping in an “aw shucks” manner before heading to his porch with a bounce in his step. You, with no bike and no car, are doomed to follow. He makes a show of unlocking the door, bowing as you pass him to get in with a “milady”.

You don’t laugh or smile, simply walking in and spotting Wayne’s empty chair.

“Already at work.” Eddie explains, making a show of locking the door before moving to check all the windows. “Come on.”

“We can stay out here.” You snap.

“Or we can go to my room where I have the bandaids.”

“Or you can grab the bandaids and bring them out here.” The thought of entering his space, the space you were once comfortable in and the space that he probably spends with his girlfriend, sounded like the last thing you wanted to do. Your chest felt tight and your eyes burned with tears as you turned away to pretend and look around even though nothing had actually changed in the three weeks since you’d been here last.

Right before the last day of the burglary case when you had eaten cereal with Eddie on the living room floor while Wayne sang off tune in the shower.

“I don’t wanna fight with you.” Eddie sighs. “I hate fighting with you.”

“I don’t really need the bandaid.” You shrug, hands melting into your pockets. “It’s just a simple cut.”

“Please.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear before moving closer to herd you in. “Just come get a bandaid.”

And so you follow, trudging through the hall to his room and shuffling in before him, noting the lack of any messes. And then you realize just how spotless his room was. Eddie Munson cleaned his room.

Of course he did. He had a girlfriend now, he’d want his rook to be clean. The realization hits you like a freight train, imagining Trish looking around the room in her own eyes. Getting to see Eddie and getting to see his Knick knacks.

“If you want to sit-“

“I’m good.” You rush out, cheeks heating up as you refuse to look at the bed he had been gesturing to before he gives you an odd look and pulls out the desk chair. You don’t say anything as you sit down, letting the wood dig into your back while he sits at the end of the bed and pulls your leg to him.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He breathes out, letting his fingers roam around your knee near where the cut ended up, like he was trying to x ray with just his vision. “You got hit with a car.”

“A love tap. I think Gareth and I bonded from it. We’ll share fond memories one day. Remember that time you love tapped me by lovers lane?”

“Can you please stop referring to it like that? How about buddy tap? He- no that doesn’t sound better.”

“Gareth love tapped me hard. So hard my knees shook.” You tease, a smile cracking your face, only for it to die out when Eddie doesn’t bother laughing. His jaw is tight, and he’s inspecting your knee like it’s the last thing on this earth before reaching to grab a bandaid and cover the cut, fingers ghosting your skin before you pull back.

“You done? I’m all patched up?”

“What’d they say?” His voice is croaky, but his gaze is intent. “On the phone?”

“Nothing much. Wanted to chat about the weather.”

“Come on.”

“They said they were you. They called and my dad picked up, they said it was an emergency and that it was you but when I came down I hung up. So they called again, and said to stop digging or…. They’d gut me.” You finish admitting it all in a rush, but he’s heard it based on the way he hisses.

“It was me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. The call before them. It was me. I called. I said there was an emergency. You hung up on me.” You shrug, and a smile nearly makes it onto his face before he’s back to glaring. “They threatened to gut you? And you’re still out looking into it?”

“Well not really. Gareth and Jeff threatened to tell you and gave me until tomorrow so I went to find whoever did it tonight.” You explain, looking down to your hands to pick around your nail.

“Whyd you tell them and not me?” His voice is strained, and you can tell he’s struggling to make eye contact where you keep avoiding it.

“They cornered me at study hall. Woke me up and-“

“They should have told me.” Eddie growls, and you huff at it. “You should be nice to Gareth. He saved my life tonight.”

“He hit you with a car.”

“Love tapped.” You correct.

“Buddy tapped.” He seethes, reaching up to flick your nose. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Study hall.” You smile, leaning back in the chair. “You?”

As if noticing your glances around the room he turns to look around himself, scratching at the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Ah well. I’ve- I cleaned it for-“

“You know Gareth likes her, right?”

“Who?” He blurts, eyes laced with confusion.

“That Trish girl. He likes her. So you should be careful about rubbing it in his face.”

“Trish? Rubbing what in his face? That she’s annoying?”

“Gareth thinks you’re dating her.”

“Gareth hit you with a ca-“

“Love tapped.”

“Buddy tap- enough. No more talking about Gareth. You’re stalling sleeping.” He huffs, pointing a finger at you. “I see it.”

“I’m not sleeping here. You can take me home.”

“What? So you can not sleep there? Come on. I’m not stupid.” He argues, eyes narrowing. “You saw me lock all the windows. You know that any cars are gonna be heard on the gravel outside and anyone coming from the back has to go through Lenny.” He lists, making you smile at the mention of the dog that lives with his neighbor. “You need sleep.”

“Fine. I’ll take the couch.” You snap, moving to stand before he rolls his eyes.

“I’m not making up the couch for you princess. Wayne will be back by 5. You can sleep on the bed. I’ll stay above covers.” He offers, moving to his closet to toss you a shirt which you blatantly ignore and let fall to the ground as you take off your boots and move to his bed.

You had given easily. Far too easily. If the edges of your vision weren’t beginning to blacken you’d have put up more of a fight.

Tomorrow. You promise. Tomorrow you’d yell at him.

And it’s easy to fall asleep, under his covers with your face shoved in one of his pillows, knowing he was near and someone would have your back if anything went wrong.

That was so damn tragic about the whole thing.

-

I ended up splitting io the second part into multiple cause it was so dang long yall.

Want more?

FIND PART 3 here

[ultralightpoe]

Nancy Drew - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS guys. And the sequel is only half done. But it needed to be freed, those drafts are piling up baddddddddd -Ultralightpoe

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Um none?

Description: Eddie and reader are a sleuthing teammmm

Main Master List - - Stranger Things Master List

[Thank You For The Gif @eashmo ]

-

The Case Of The Missing Lunch Box. 

“She’s an…. Odd one. But there is nothing wrong with that.”

Odd one. 

Odd. 

It was the term most used to describe you, always had been so long as you could remember. It was the word your aunt used to explain to your mom about what it had been like babysitting you. It had been the word your kindergarten teacher used when she explained your behaviour during free time. 

Your principal had called you an ‘oddity’ the year you solved the swing case, the year you figured out that the 5th graders had been taking the screws off the swing set before school so that no one would be able to steal them before them at recess. You had spent far too much time trying to figure it out before your teacher told your principal to have a meeting. 

Oddity. Which… did in fact have the word odd so you liked to think it still counted. 

Odd, is the first word the doctor used to describe the symptoms your mother was having when she got sick. Odd was the first word your grandmother used to your father when she didn’t like how you were acting at the funeral, focusing on fixing the plates and cleaning the vases that held the flowers rather than crying in front of strangers that had a habit of touching you. 

Odd. It was the word you would have used to describe the deep gashing feeling in your chest as you stared at your mothers photo that day instead of listening to the sermon. You knew her survival rate wasn’t high, she had told you herself. You knew she would pass and you had spent every second you could with her until it happened. And yet you felt like nothing would ever be fine again. Odd. 

Odd that you cried while packing your room. You didn’t have friends here and it was better to leave the house your mother died in, and yet you couldn’t stop the feelings that destroyed you. 

And odd had been the word your own father had used while describing you to your new teacher. He had held the strap of your backpack as if you would run away, and forced an awkward smile on his face as you blatantly refused to shake her hand. He took the time to describe your…. Oddness… while you organized the random desk they sat you at. Taking the time to clean up all the pencil shavings and neatly stack the papers, using a tissue to scrub off the drawings on the desk while the adults talked. 

“My biggest hope for her here is to make friends. She struggled with it at the other school, and after the loss of her mother…. I am just worried.”

“She is at the perfect place.” The teacher smiled, making sure to smile in your direction as well to try and make you comfortable, but you merely saw the lipstick on her front tooth. And as if your father could read your thoughts he reached over to flick your ear with a knowing look while you tried to smile back. 

And then he left, and the teacher showed you the desk that would be yours, muttering a “I just know you will fit in well here.” 

But once the bell rang and all the students came running in you could merely watch as they all ignored you and kept to their own groups. 

And when the kid sat in the desk you had sat in he let out an angry groan, looking around the room in accusation. “Which dipshit cleaned my desk?”

“Edward Wayne Munson!” The teacher snapped, right as he made eye contact with you. 

So much for fitting in, not that you ever thought you would. 

Being odd and all. 

- 

Two weeks, it merely took two weeks for you to earn the odd status you seemed to carry with you everywhere you went. 

Carol Perkins said that you were a freak for how clean you kept your desk, and Tommy Hagan said you must be a robot clone, which started an entire chain of rumors and left your classmates beeping whenever you tried to speak with them. 

And your teacher, Mrs. Stason had seemed to forget her promise of you fitting in. Or maybe she just truly didn’t see how much you were resented with how busy she was trying to maintain the classroom. 

But it wasn’t truly upsetting. Not really. It meant that people left you alone. Especially at lunch, which gives you time to watch everyone. 

You often watched Carol show her friends something from her mothers makeup collection that had been stolen, and Jamie liked to race back and forth in the cafeteria before he was yelled at by the aid. Tommy would brag about his lunch, always store bought, and he would almost always complain about his little brother's peanut allergy when any of his friends brought in pb&j sandwiches. 

Eddie Munson, the boy that hated you for cleaning his desk, was the only one that seemed to be left out of the camaraderie of the classmates, in fact it seemed his lunch was always packed with cartoon comics that he read during lunch. With his Beatles lunch box, that had a bandaid working as tape in the corner. 

But things got interesting when Tommy Hagan brought in his own Beatles lunch box and claimed that Eddie had been copying him the whole time. And all you could think was how silly it all was as Tommy threw a fit about it. 

It was a Wednesday that the pattern was disrupted. 

The routine was natural at this point. Mrs. Stason would let them have 10 minutes of reading time before she took them through the words of the day, in which she would use one of those words to announce lunch time. 

“And today we will all SCAMPER to grab our lunches and make our way to the lunch room.” And that would cue the scraping of chairs as everyone rushed to their cubbies. But today, when Eddie normally rushed out of the room first to get his favorite spot in the cafeteria, he merely blinked at his cubby before digging around once more and gasping in anger as the room cleared out. 

You slowly grabbed your own lunch as you watched the boy tear out his backpack and dig through it before flipping it up and down to dump out its contents as the teacher gasped out and moved to stop him. But he didn’t seem to notice her, instead he looked into the empty cubby once more. 

“MY LUNCHBOX IS GONE!”

“Edward, please.”

“It’s gone!” 

“This isn’t the time for dramatics. Let’s walk to the office and see if anything was put in lost and fo-“ He doesn’t wait until she finishes her sentence, storming off and leaving her to follow. And you are left in the classroom by yourself, staring at the open door before something catches your eye. 

There was a smudge in Eddie’s cubby. This wasn’t uncommon for the boy, considering you had cleaned his desk that first day, but this smudge? Pink. 

Without thinking you swiped a finger through it, rubbing it between your fingers as it spreads softly before you looked to see that it had gotten on his backpack as well. It was recognizable and yet you couldn’t place where you had seen that shade of pink or what it was exactly. So you grabbed a tissue from the box and swiped some more of it in the tissue, making sure to fold it before tucking it in your desk and walking to the lunchroom. 

When Eddie returns with the teacher he seems twice as aggravated. You offer him half your sandwich, he pushes it away and throws your muffin in the trash before storming off with heavy stomps. 

Fair enough. 

But it stuck with you, even as you walked home. It wasn’t until you saw your neighbor, Sandra, watering her plants that you recognized the shade of pink adorning her lips. 

“Ms. Parsen?” You call, walking up to her as she turns to give you her full attention. She takes a minute to compliment your outfit and exclaim about how happy she was to see you since you had moved in. You allowed her to babble for a second before pulling out the tissue. 

“Do you know this color?” 

“It’s pink.” She smiles. 

“Well yes. But would you recognize if it’s makeup?” 

“Dearie, it doesn’t take the brightest pear on the tree to see that it’s lipstick.” She huffs, and though you don’t understand her reference you don’t bother arguing. 

The next day at school when the teacher uses the word rogue to introduce lunch you decide to go on a little rogue mission of your own. Pretending to tie your shoe as the rest of the class leaves, before heading over to Carol's desk and flipping it open. 

“What are you doing?” A voice asks, making you jump so hard the desk slams loudly, whirling to find Eddie Munson standing in the doorway. 

His eyes widen at the sound before he shuts the door so no teachers will come and yell at you, turning back to watch you. 

“What are you doing?”  You parrot back, panicking that you had just been caught breaking the rules. 

“I came….” His neck grows red as he looks around the room in an attempt to avoid your gaze. “I came to apologize. I packed an extra brownie for lunch….. cause I messed up your muffin.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Nah. It wasn’t. You were being nice in offering me half your lunch. I was upset that I lost my uncle's lunch box. I knew my pa was gonna be mad.” At the mention of the missing lunch box you look to see his grip on a paper sack, and notice the welt on his hand. But Eddie didn’t seem like the type to answer questions freely. So you turned back to Carol's desk. “You shouldn’t do that. She gets real upset about people touching her stuff.” 

“She won’t have to know.” You respond, reaching for her pencil case and opening it up to reveal a lipstick tube. Without bothering to look back to Eddie you lose the cap of it and match it to the tissue before rushing to his cubby and matching it to the stain on his backpack. 

“The hell is that?” He asks, peering over your shoulder. 

“That is my first clue.” 

And so he follows you to the lunchroom, and sits with you while you question Carol, only she doesn’t break. And by the time the bell rings you are left with no answers. 

Eddie, with his mouth stuffed with brownie, offers you the second by sliding it closer to you on a napkin. “Not right now.” You mumble, standing to follow the class back to your room. 

And it’s there you stare at Carol….. Well, glare is the better term. 

Eddie keeps turning around in his desk to watch you narrow your eyes at the girl, watching as she begins to fidget in her seat before recess is called. And you waste no time cornering her. 

“I’ll tell the teacher about the makeup.” You threaten, folding your arms. “Tell me what you know.” 

“I caught Tommy taking it!” She snitches, stomping her foot. “I was going to apply the lipstick that morning, only when I walked into the class I caught Tommy at the cubbies while Eddie was in the bathroom. We heard the warning bell so I rushed to help him put Eddie’s backpack back in the cubby before anyone saw.” 

She rushes off after that, and Eddie is excited as ever. “Come on! Let’s go corner Tommy!” 

“No. Follow me.” You order; turning to walk into the classroom with Eddie hot on your heels. 

“Oh, dearies, it’s recess time-“ your teacher tries to explain before you stomp to Tommy’s cubby and tear it out. 

“Now what do you think you are doing young lady?!” 

“Here!” You smile, showing the lunchbox.  “This is Eddie’s!” 

“No dear. That’s Tommy’s. Eddie, it’s not fair to blame Tommy for losing your belongings.” 

“No! Look. It’s got the bandaid on the corner- AND-“ you open it up to reveal day old comics that were meant to be read yesterday. 

“What does that prove?” 

You hand the tin off to Eddie before rushing to his desk, flipping it open and digging through the stack of papers you organized on the first day. “Here!” 

In your hand you showed the rest of the comics Eddie kept, more proof. 

“Oh. Well I best be getting Tommy. wait here you two.” She sighs, rushing down the hall to get to the playground doors while Eddie smiles at you clutching his lunchbox.

“He’s gonna be in so much trouble!” 

You merely shrug, moving to organize the papers in your hand as you wait. 10 minutes later Tommy is explaining that he broke his biking home and hadn’t wanted to get into trouble so he took Eddie’s. 

By the time you are all dismissed back to recess Eddie is wound up in excitement. “You solved the case! My pa can’t be mad at me anymore.” 

And you can’t help the smile that makes its way across your face before you reach the doors. 

Normally you sit by yourself at one of the tables, reading until the period is over. And so you move to do just that, only for Eddie to follow you. 

“Aren’t you going to swing?” Just as he always did at recess. 

“They are already full. No use.” He shrugs, following you to the table. “Whatcha reading?” 

“Nancy drew.” You shrug back, showing him. He’s smiling from ear to ear as you blink back. 

“You’re an odd one. Aren’t ya?” And for the first time, the word actually sounded like a compliment. 

-

The Case Of The Vanishing Homework.

“Quit wasting my time.” Eddie Munson growls as his eyebrows pinch together and his lips twitch as he holds back a frown at the scene before him. “You’re playing with me, right?”

It was lunch time, and the rest of your class was rushing around where the two of you sat at the worn down picnic tables off to the side while Eddie seemed dead set on throwing a fit. The worn wood was warm under your thighs and the sun was currently beating down on you, forming a flush to your cheeks and sweat to the back of your neck. 

It never made sense to you why they couldn’t add any shade to the playground. 

“It’s what my dad packed.” You shrug, pushing your sandwich towards him. “Half or not.”

“Not.” Eddie snaps back, giving your turkey swiss sandwich a firm glare as he pulls his pb&j back to his side of the table. 

“I think you are being a bit dramati-” You don’t get a chance to finish your complaint before you see his eyebrow raise a bit as he stares at your side of the lunch, eyes holding a curious glint as they narrow in on the bread. “Eddie just try it.”

“But the cheese has holes.”

“And all cheese is technically mold. We are middle schoolers now, grow up.” You scoff, pushing half the sandwich to him and snatching half of his before you split your carrots and he splits his brownie. A nice routine the two of you built up, since his lunchbox had yet to go missing again.  

It was your 7th grade year, or the beginning of it really. Since you had met Eddie Munson 2 years ago it was safe to say you both had been attached at the hip. You shared lunch, and you did homework together. He came over to your house for weekly dinners and you spent hours in the library halls. 

43 Cases solved within your friendship as well. Missing halloween candy, a broken window, a lost dog which led to a lost cat, and Eddie’s favorite was the case of the flaming bag bandit. Which ended up being some nerdy kid trying to get payback on his brother's bullies. [Eddie ended up leaving a couple more to help the cause, you never asked where he got all the dog feces]

There was a term in the dictionary your teacher had you going through everyday to pick a word of the day, and your word today just so happened to be ‘codependent’.  And you would use that word to describe your friendship with Eddie. And you didn’t know if that was a good thing. 

“Hey Eds.” You start, tilting your head a bit as he looks up at you with his mouth full of the sandwich he had been hating on a mere minute ago. “Do you think it’s bad that we are so codependent?”

“Cowendats?” He parrots with his mouth still full as he struggles to chew, covering his mouth when you show your outward disgust before finally clearing his throat and stealing your water bottle to drink from. 

“Smaller bites unless you want to choke.”

“Codependent?”

“Yes. It means-”

“I know what it means, Who said we are codependent? They can mind their own business. We are the two most dependent people I know.”

“I just think-”

“There you two are.” A sharp voice interrupts you both, making you jump in your skin as Eddie visibly flinches, and then you both are scrambling for coverage. He’s snatching up the food as you grab both your bags, tripping over yourselves as you both try to escape the approaching hag.

Hag…… or better known as the 8th grade teacher, Mrs. Bradford. She had a reputation at the school for being a cruel cruel beast. Overdoing homework. Detention nearly everyday. Her classroom was spoken to be an absolute drab of grey.  And the rumors of her shoving kids in closets did nothing to actually help her reputation. 

“‘I’ve already seen you. No point in running.” She huffs, head tilting up to the sky in aggravation as you and Eddie freeze in your positions, slowly turning to look at where she currently stood. With hands on her hips and a heavy gaze she looks to the both of you, sweat beginning to form on her forehead. “I hear you like to solve cases. I have come to collect you.”

“Oh!” You nod, your spine far too tight for the movement to seem natural. “The only problem is we are on lunch and it’s almost over. We have math class-”

“Really important class.” Eddie rushes out, snapping his fingers in a ‘dang it’ motion before his jaw tightens while a grimace coats his features and he inhales in fake frustration. “And we were so willing to help…… come on let’s go.”

Within a split second his fake grimace is dropped and he’s grabbing your elbow to lead you away in a hurry, but not before Mrs. Bradford steps in front of you both with a bored expression. Eddie nearly runs face first into her chest, stopping so quickly that you run into his back.

“I have hall passes for your next class.” Mrs. Bradford explains, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits as she motions with a finger for you both to follow. “Come on now. Before I change my mind.”

She walks away then, assuming you both would follow, but instead you merely stand next to Eddie near the table watching her go. 

“What do we do?” 

“I don’t think we have a choice….” He answers, shrugging a bit. “And anything beats missing math class.”

“You NEED math class ,may I remind you.” You seethe, shaking your head. “You got a 2 on the last assignment.”

“I don’t remember that.” 

“Well I do an-”

“Are you two coming?!” Mrs. Bradford snaps out, giving you both an angry look that has the two of you scrambling to catch up with her from down the hall. Your backpack slips from your shoulder a bit, Eddie is quick to help you place it back while shoving the rest of the swiss sandwich in his mouth. He smiles a bit when he hears you mutter about it under your breath, flicking your nose before taking the lead in following the teacher. 

“Alright, come on. This is my classroom.” She grumbles out, opening the door to reveal a bland but clean room. “I had booklets due yesterday, they were given two weeks ago and today one of these delinquents stole them all.”

“Stole them?” 

“They were sitting on this corner last night. By this morning they were all gone and the only one left is the one I use to grade everyone else’s work. My own packet.” She explains, picking up her own packet before tossing it on one of the desks by where you stood. Eddie watches the packet slide before stopping it with a finger and swooping it up to hand to you. 

“I’m a bit confused on why you need our help?” 

“I need to know who took them. They were a part of the final grade in this class, I was planning on presenting them at the parent teacher conferences tonight. But I guess that plan is mute. Just….. I don’t really know what I am expecting here. Principal Beltz told me to find you.”

“Any suspects?” You ask, watching her closely.

“Dana Mitchell was quite snippy when I was collecting them, told me she hoped I lost them. Trevor….. Well he had detention and left after me because I had a class to attend and he was taking forever to pack up his bag. And Jesse didn’t even do his. So I’m sure this is just a pathetic attempt to ruin everyone else's grades.”

“Alright.” Eddie nods, watching you trace along the edges of the booklet before flipping it open. “Give us a few to look around.”

“If you think I’m leaving a Munson in this room without supervision then you are completely mistaken.” 

“I have supervision.” He argues, gesturing to you. Her eyes flicker back and forth before she sighs out and nods, grabbing her keys and heading to the door. She makes sure it doesn’t slam, heading down the hall and leaving you two in the room. Eddie is quick, jumping to sit on a desk as you reach into your backpack and grab the notebook your father had given you. 

“Alright, what do we know?”

“The packets are 40 pages long- jeez I hope I don’t get her class next year- and there are at least 17 kids in her class. That would be a pretty heavy stack to steal.”

“What else?”

“Jessie didn’t do his. Trevor had detention and was the last person in the room. Dana Mitchell was pretty mad about it as well.” He lists before looking offended. “Why is it Dana Mitchell? She’s the only Dana we have.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Why do they say her last name?”

“I…. I don’t know.” You shrug, bending down to check under the desk. “Green gum. It looks like it has a piece of torn paper connected to it.”

“So trash?” It was a question meant to piss you off with the way he is already smiling when you turn to glare. “Also, Mrs. Bradford doesn’t know how to spell.”

“What?”

“Half these words are misspelled.”  In two easy steps you are right beside him, snatching the book and flipping through it. 

“It doesn’t have a name, but this is for sure not Mrs. Bradfords.” You note, trying to find something to work with. “Wait. There.” 

He peers down to where you point, where Jesse has been practicing his signature like a celebrity. “This is Jesse’s booklet. The only reason it’s here is cause he turned it in today.” 

“Which means that Mrs. Bradfords is with the rest.” 

“Alright. Look around for clues.”  And he does, hopping down from a desk, only Eddie’s version of looking for clues is following behind you as you look at things. 

“Boot print near the door.” 

“Why does that matter?”

“Because the rest of the floors are completely clean. But the gum and the bootprint are both right here.” 

“Nice. Nice.” 

“And…. look!” You reach to snatch the earring that had fallen under the desk, showing him what you found, a blue hoop. 

“Dana Mit- Dana wears those. They are so ra ra cheerleader but she seems to like em.” 

“Seems like we have a primary suspect.” You nod, moving to stand up, allowing him to reach to help you up before patting yourself down. 

“They are all on lunch. Let’s go.” He leads the way through the halls, smiling to the janitor and giving him a big wave. Paul notes this, stopping his work of trying to lift the can off his car to wave back. His stops chewing his gum to mutter out a brief hello before Eddie helps haul the can for him. 

By the time you both make it to the cafeteria the hall is backed. 

Dana seems to pinpoint you the second you walk into the cafeteria, rolling her eyes when you both sit across from her and pushing her tray away with a freshly manicured hand. “Nancy Drew and her boy toy.”

“She’s got an actual name you know?” Eddie snips out, eyes narrowed as his neck extends in a peckish manner. 

“It’s worthy to note that it was her name that you corrected and not me calling you her boy toy.” Dana huffs out, chewing on her gum obnoxiously. “I didn’t steal the friggin homework.”

“How did you know we were here about the homework?” 

“Because it’s in your hand dipshit.”

“Right.” Eddie nods, his neck tinging with a bit of red before he looks at you and you try not to laugh at his face. The weirdest thing about Eddie was his lack of care for embarrassment, it could take him less than 2 seconds to wipe something off and find the humor of it all.  

You are about to make a joke for him until Dana pops her gum and pulls your attention back to her, noting when it gets stuck to her lip. 

“Well thank you for your time.” You smile, standing up quickly and leading Eddie out of the hall. He sputters on his words, trying to figure out why you ended that so early but you were already walking ahead. 

“Why did you end that? We had her nervous, ready to confess.” He grunts, struggling to keep up. “Let’s go back and get her to confess.”

“She didn’t do it.” 

“How do you know that?”

“Why do you bother questioning me after all this time?”

“Not a clue actually.”

He waits while you take pictures before walking you back to class, bumping his shoulder with yours every time he gets bored, making you roll your eyes a bit until he decides to dead weight on you last minute, sending you both sliding across the floor in fits of laughter before a teacher yells at you to get to class. 

By the time school is out for the day you have a plan, you just know Eddie isn’t gonna love it. “Tonight, at the parent teacher conferences we meet up by our classroom. Deal?” 

He extends his pinkie out to you, which you grasp in your own before leaning forward to butt your foreheads together in your signature handshake. Groaning out and rubbing the sore spots when the hit hurts. 

“That was a good one-”

“You get a metal plate installed?” You blurt out before laughing, leaning up to kiss his cheek and rush to your bike to get home. 

By the time you get home your dad is back from work, struggling to remove his tie as you rush to grab your detective bag. He spots it sitting by the front door while you both eat dinner, narrowing his eyes at you in a protective manner. “Why do you have your sleuth kit out?”

“Oh no reason.” You shrug, moving to make a plate for Eddie since the mac n cheese was always one of his favorites. 

“Right. Make sure to grab Eddie some broccoli too. And make sure he actually eats it this time please!” His voice grows louder when he makes it to the kitchen to clean up, and you grab Eddie exactly three pieces, already knowing you’ll struggle to get him to eat them. 

By the time you make it to the school the plate is covered with a wrap and Eddie is nowhere to be seen, though you weren’t too worried about it yet while your dad began looking around. “Alright, who do you and Eddie hang out with?”

“What?”

“Your friends. You and Eddie. Where are your friends?” He asks, wiping dust off his jacket while you blink at him like he’s grown a third head. 

“Eddie isn’t here yet.” You explain. 

“I realize that. But where are the rest of your friends?”  

You gape at him, embarrassment beginning to claim you as you realize that you don’t have any other friends and he expected you to, and right as you were beginning to mouth the lame excuse Eddie Munson showed up to save you. An arm wrapping around your shoulders easily as your fathers eyes widen. 

You realize why your father looked so shocked the second you turn to your friend, who was smiling even though a dark bruise and a split lip covered half his face. “What? Am I so beautiful you are at a loss for words?”

“I made you a plate. Dad says you have to eat the brocc-”

“This must be the famous Nancy Drew.” Someone calls out, walking up to where the three of you had been standing. Your father stands straight, already glaring, before the man in the jean jacket grabs Eddie’s shoulder with a comforting squeeze and extends his hand. “I’m his Uncle Wayne. His father couldn’t make it tonight.”

“Oh. Right.” Your father nods, before hearing something clatter behind him and clearing his throat. “Shall we go in, Wayne? I’m sure we can get some good seats in the far back.”

“I like the way you think.” 

“You. Do not wander off too far. You hear me?” Your dad asks, giving a fake glare which you nod to before leading Wayne into the classroom. 

“Alright, what’s this plan of yours?”

“What happened to your face?” You blurt, unable to stop the question as Eddie removes his arm from your shoulder and pulls out his flashlight. 

“Just a run in with a wall.” He shrugs, not looking at you as his hand swipes across the buzz cut on his head, scratching a bit which is a sign he is nervous or lying. Both, from what you can tell. 

“Alright. You’re lying but I’ll allow it.” You huff, pulling out your sleuthing kit, snatching the camera from the sleeve and zipping it back up. “Follow me.”

He does, flicking his flashlight on once you get to the section of the school where the lights are already turned off for the night, going down the stairs into the basement. 

“It was weird to me that the rest of the floors were clean, but not around the desk. There was even the boot mark  by it as if someone had tripped.” You begin to explain, keeping pace with him as he leads you through the mechanical room. “And when Mrs. Bradford sat in her chair it groaned, and a screw had been sitting by a leg of the chair but it was full of new screws.”

“Which means?”

“That someone had messed with her chair. I think it was Trevor, he waited until she left after the detention to mess with her chair, a harmless prank.”

“Then how did it get fixed?”

“Thursdays are mopping and wax nights, Paul always wears his grey uniform on thursdays because of the wax ruining fabric and he hates that one. On Fridays he wears his blue, which he wore yesterday.”

“And he looked great.”

“Right, anyways, the boots he wore match the markings. Here’s what I think happened. Paul had back surgery 2 months ago, this is his second week back which means he’s bound to take lots of breaks especially since he hauls things with his back everyday-”

“Poor guy.”

“I think he went to sit in Mrs. Bradfords chair and because of Trevors prank he ended up falling. Which made him panic, he’s too nice, and he was worried about the chair so he took the time to fix it.”

“Got it.” 

“I think when he fell he kicked the stack and they landed in his bin, which is why he struggled to lift it today.”

“But what about the gum? Dana chewed gum.”

“So did Paul. Dana’s was pink, bubblegum, it got stuck to her lip today at lunch. Pauls is spearmint. I guarantee it.” You finish explaining, leading him to the janitors closet. “I just need you to pick the lock so we can see in.”

“Anything you need.” He smiles, bending to make quick work of the lock before the door swings open and he smiles up at you at his work. “You and me against the world.”

You smile back before rushing past to dig through the bins before stopping at the one with a blue mark, pulling forward to look inside. “FOUND EM!”

He laughs, pulling forward to help you snatch them up in a pile, helping you carry them out until you make it back to Mrs. Bradfords class and setting them on her desk right as she finishes up her speech to the parents within the class. Eddie smiles at her, she rolls her eyes, and just like that another mystery solved. 

By the next morning you manage  to make it to class with a little extra time, stopping by the janitors closet to find Paul. 

“What can I do for ya?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay after your fall. And to bring you some fruit.” You extend the basket out, handing it to him as he laughs before setting it down to a stack of comics. “Munson already stopped by. You both make quite the pair.”

Yes. Co-dependent? Sure. But that didn’t matter at all.

- 

The Case Of The Missing Hours. 

Freshman year and not much had changed in the life of crime fighting. Case after case. Test after test. And you could handle it all, at least that’s what you told yourself. 

Eddie had been removed from his dads custody though he hated talking about it, and had since moved in with his Uncle Wayne in the 1 bedroom trailer home near the edge of town. Wayne had allowed him to take the room, and at first you had HATED it. He never kept his room clean, and it was a new territory to you that broke your everyday pattern. 

But over time that began to change. 

Your father began working morning noon and night, which often times left you alone at the house. For some this seemed to be the perfect way to spend their time, for you it just left time to overthink. You couldn’t sleep lately, with so much to do and anytime you nearly got to sleep something woke you up. A tree hitting a window. A car alarm from down the street. A creak in your house that had you assuming the worst. 

And if it wasn’t something keeping you up then it was your brain. The way Tammys zipper was down after lunch, the one pencil missing in a case. One thing out of place and you were in for a long night. 

But with Eddie you could just breathe. There was a comfort in knowing you could spend time with someone who didn’t care if everything was out of place. Where you got the urge to right everything you had somehow learned to coast in the way he lived. 

So time at his trailer became natural. Though it never helped you catch up on your sleep. Which he was beginning to notice, had even rubbed eyeliner under his own eyes to imitate your eyebags one day, laughing his butt off until you hit him with a pillow. 

Until it all changed. 

You had at least 50 assignments due, and 20 million cases to solve. Which in regular math meant you had 7 assignments and 2 cases. But all that on top of lack of sleep in the past 7 days was beginning to drag you down, words were hard to read and you couldn’t concentrate. So you packed your backpack ans headed to Eddie’s. 

It took 2 knocks until he was there, swinging the door so hard that he swishes on his own feet, the hair he had been growing out now swishing a bit with him at his ears before his smile lands on you. Immediately you are basked in what you could only describe as sunlight. 

Because that’s how it felt. When Eddie had his attention on you it felt like sunlight. Warm, welcoming, chasing all your shadows away and making you nearly melt under his gaze. The newest change had been when your heart began speeding up everytime he smiled at you, the way the back of your neck warmed with the flush that spread through you and you hoped to god he didn’t see the blush traveling your cheeks. 

Oh right, the biggest change of all, you were painfully in love with Eddie Munson. 

How utterly screwed you were.

“Let me guess. You need my help with the math homework?”

“Oh how smart you are.” You smile, pushing your feet to move forwards when he moves to the side to let you in, pulling a bit of your hair as you pass to make you laugh while Wayne stands from his chair to give you a hug. 

“Don’t be letting my boy distract you now, one of you has to keep up the good grades.” Wayne teases, moving to sit back down. You knew that here in 30 minutes he would be heading to work. 

“Oh real funny.” Eddie huffs, leading you to his room. When he opens his door he has to shove a little harder to move the pile of clothes that had built up from his closet, giving you a guilty look but not before showing off the shirt he was wearing. “Couldn’t find this badboy.”

“Your plain baseball tee?”

“Yah! I was thinking of making it into a band tee or somethin’.” He explains, kicking a pillow up into the air so he could catch it before smashing it onto the bed and falling into it like a wrestler would, kickign his feet to banish his backpack from the top so that you could take up your normal place to study. “Milady…”

“How generous.” You smile, falling into the bed and moving to grab your textbook out before opening it to the page you had left off on as Eddie snatches his guitar from the wall and begins messing with the chords. 

It had been a christmas gift from Wayne, you had gotten him the books to go along with learning and you had made a bet that he wouldn’t practice everyday for a year. You knew he would, Eddie lived for music, you also knew he had better chances of doing so if he was gonna win 50 bucks at the end of it. You had the 50 stored in your jewelry box, ready for when the time came. 

“What ya workin’ on?” He asks, not looking up from the guitar but pushing his foot out to tap the book with a socked toe. You push his foot away and mumble out a simple “Science homework.”

He scoffs, mimicking your voice before using his toe to poke you. “You’d be more comfortable against the pillows. You’d concentrate more.”  

“What happened to not leaking all my brain juice onto your pillows?”

“That was when you were sick and had the ear infection. How was I supposed to know you weren’t going to drain onto the pil-”

“Drainage happens within the canal-”

“Just come sit. I want you to sit by me.” He sighs, scooching over a bit so you would have room, and you didn’t bother arguing more, already moving until you were sitting side by side so you could keep reading. Only he was right, it was really comfortable, and he smelled great and it was so warm. 

Before you could really stop it you sunk down further and further. 

No. You told yourself. You will not fall asleep. You have so much homework to do. And you still need to go out and check Harrisons garage door….. 

You wouldn’t fall asleep. You would not fall asleep. 

… 

You wake to the sound of music from Eddie’s radio playing softly, normally it was filled with rock music but today it’s a tune you immediately recognize. Fur Elise, Beethoven. It takes you a moment to blink, waking up from a sleep so deep you struggled to get any of your limbs to move. Or maybe that was because you were attached so closely to Eddie. Your legs woven with his as you hugged him close, one of his arms wrapped around you and the other holding the pillow up so you both remained comfortable as he snored. 

It takes a moment to fully register everything. You had fallen asleep, last time you checked it was still sunny outside and yet now it was pitch black. And you were wrapped up in Eddie's arms. Your science book sat neatly on the nightstand. 

Eddie must feel you stir, because in a moment he is inhaling and his eyes shoot open as he looks around the room for a problem, narrowing his eyes at you. “Why youf wake upn?” 

You shrug, the only answer you think you can get out with how heavy your tongue is and dry your mouth is, blinking slowly as you struggle to sit up. 

“No.” Eddie whines out, shoving his face into the pillow while you reach for his alarm clock. 

“2 am. Eddie!” You accuse, standing quickly. 

“What? Where are you going?”

“I had so much to do! Homework and case work and we were supposed to go look at Harrisons garage.”

“Screw the harrisons.” Eddie huffs, slapping the pillow before sitting up. “Listen. You have bags under your bags. You need sleep. I called and let your dad know you were here and we have all weekend to do the homework. The cases can wait.  If Harrison is mad because someone broke into his garage and wrecked his car then he can go to the police.”

“But-”

“No. Come on. You are still tired and I did not waste 3 dollars on this Bach cassette-”

“Beethoven.” You correct, already shuffling back to the bed, stopping just short of climbing in which makes him glare and reach out an arm like he was preparing to catch you if you tried to leave once more. But you weren’t looking to escape, you were thinking of how uncomfortable your jeans were. “Do you have a shirt I can wear?”

“Does it have to be clean?” 

“Eddie.”

“I know I know.” He huffs, jumping up to open a drawer and throw a tee at you, before slamming his body back down with enough force that he bounces a bit on the mattress. You struggle to take your jeans off, even hitting your head on the door enough to make Eddie flinch before you find yourself on the bed. Locking pinkies, hitting foreheads and laying side by side before you both pass out. 

He was right, you had all weekend to catch up. For now you were fine with Eddie snoring in your ear. 

- 

The Case Of The Lovesick Fool. 

“Welp.” Eddie smiles from ear to ear, watching the police haul off one of the perps you had just caught. A string of home burglaries that had led to a stalker situation. It had taken you all but 2 weeks to figure it out. “That’s a wrap on the burglar case.”

His hand comes up to flick your nose, but once he’s done with that me makes sure to take a moment to brush the hair out of your face. His smile is tense but he’s doing his best to seem calm and at ease, even after being shoved off the second story balcony of the Tarney home. 

“What do we do now?” You ask, stepping closer to him as someone pushes past you on the sidewalk. His hands shoot out to catch you, keeping you in place, while sending a glare to the guy passing. And while his hand rubs your arms up and down you can’t help but stare at him intently. “Maybe burgers.”

“Woah….” He gasps, reaching out a ringed hand to check your forehead for a fever in a way that makes you scoff and pull back, fixing your hair at the motion as he shakes his head. “I never thought we’d see the day that you suggest something other than finding another mystery.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Did you hit your head? Catch the plague while you were crawling through tunnels? No! Don’t tell me! A serial killer cut your skin off and has been wearing it around pretending to be you!”

“Are you done? My stomach is rumbling.” You groan, moving to walk in front of him. He whirls, catching up with you in a moment, keeping your pace as he continues to list off reasons you’d want to go get food. 

“You think Benny is killing people and hoarding their bodies in the basement?” He asks while opening your door to his van, extending a hand to help you in and making sure you are comfortable before slamming it shut and rushing to his side. It takes two turns to start, and once it does he hits the wheel in excitement before kissing the wheel and muttering a thank you under his breath. 

It was junior year now, and things with Eddie had changed quite a bit. 

His hair was longer now, much much longer. His fingers adorned with rings, nearly every outfit was worn with a leather jacket and a jean vest, even when it was far too hot out. Under Wayne’s care he had managed to pick up his life a bit. His smiles were all for the most part real and you never saw him with bruises anymore….. Okay unless he got a little too real in the mystery world which you always felt guilty over. 

Another thing that had changed? Eddie managed to make friends. 

You had taken up journalism at school for some extra credit points, and while you had that after school he decided DnD would be how he spent time. And there he was introduced to Gareth, Jeff and Doug. They grew close pretty quickly, which you would have thought to be great, only they didn’t seem too crazy about you. 

You tried, you swear it. You attempted to go to their game nights, you tried to watch them play in the bad they had been forming and when Eddie insisted you sit with them at lunch you tried to bring out some of your best jokes. But everything you said fell flat, every joke met with pity chuckles that made it all the worse and every question was answered with a bored expression or attitude at you not knowing. 

But the worst thing was the way they made fun of the mysteries. 

But Eddie loved them, and you loved Eddie. 

So it was no surprise that when you both entered Benny’s burger house the DnD group was there calling for him to come sit in the back booth. 

Eddie casts an excited glance your way before grabbing your arm and leading you to where they all sat, talking in your ear about how exciting it was that they were here. And you tried to place a smile on, even though you had wanted it to be just the two of you. 

“Eds! We thought she’d be dragging you around on that mystery all day!” Gareth laughs, pulling an extra chair over with his leg for Eddie to sit in while you get the final spot in the booth by Jeff. You attempt a smile, which is sadly returned with a terse nod in return. 

“Well Nancy Drew here managed to solve it in record time…. Only after I was pushed out a window.” Eddie teases, bumping his shoulder into yours before snatching a menu to look at. 

“Nancy Drew.” Doug scoffs, chuckling a bit. “Are you like best friends with the cops?”

“Dude, I bet Nancy Drew has Hopper on speed dial.” Gareth cackles, clapping hands with Jeff when he starts laughing too, and you attempt to laugh like it’s so funny but really you just feel like some sort of cheap joke. The wound digs even deeper when you turn to find Eddie laughing with them, covering his face and keeling over from how funny he thought it was. 

“I have a name you know.” Even your voice comes out tense, though you wanted it to sound like you were having fun. 

“There you guys are!” A female voice calls out, pulling all their attention to where the prettiest girl you’d ever seen is currently walking up, smiling from ear to ear. Her hair is teased, perfectly so, in the way that you could never actually figure out and she is wearing one of those hellfire tees that Eddie and you had made during a sleepover, only hers is tied into a shorter version that ends at her ribcage. “Ugh the traffic was terrible.”

“You say that every time you run late, Trish. Just admit you took too long with your makeup.” Gareth teases, a large smile forming on his face. 

A wave of excitement passes through you when you realize she was coming to hang out, and you might get a chance to have another female around in this ragtag group. You can feel a smile break out as you stand and extend a hand out, introducing yourself. 

She blinks at the hand before her lipstick covered lips tilt up in a smirk that has your hackles rising. Before she gets the next words out you know how this will play out, you had dealt with plenty of girls who hated you enough to know.  

“I didn’t realize this was a business meeting.” She giggles, walking past you to get into the booth where you had just been sitting, leaning forward to grab Eddie’s jaw like she had been doing it forever. “What happened to you? Oh you look miserable, baby.”

Baby. 

“Nancy Drew dragged him on another mystery,” Doug grumbles, gesturing his thumb to you with a sneer and a roll of his eyes. 

“I have to go.” You blurt, body completely frozen with your heart beating through your chest as you take in the scene before you, at just how comfortable they all seemed together. You were the odd man out here, and you had places to be. “Bye.”

You turn on your heels, rushing for the door as a wave of exhaustion hits you all at once, blinking back tears from that encounter as you hear Eddie rush out an apology before the sound of his feet chase after you on the diner tile. 

“Hey Nancy Drew!” Benny calls out, and it feels like a punch to the gut when the rest of the booth starts laughing out while you make work to push the front door open and escape. 

“Wait. Hang on.” Eddie huffs, grabbing your arm in the parking lot before you can make your escape. “What’s going on? I thought you were hungry?”

“I just have to go.” You rush out. “I remembered I have a paper due for class and I promised my dad I’d be home soon-”

“Why don’t you worry about that after you eat? Come on, our friends are here-”

“Your friends.” You correct with a shake of your head while he stops short. You can see in the moment that you shouldn’t have, because his shoulder drop and his eyes close, reaching a hand up to rub at them in annoyance. “They aren-”

“I know! I know!” He snaps, eyes opening to glare at you now. “They aren’t your friends. You’ve made that clear. But it’s not shocking because you could probably list all of your friends on one fucking hand.”

“Well I-” You attempt to argue, shocked by this outburst, but he beats you to the punch. 

“Me. That’s it. That’s your only friend.” He growls out. “I am working in overtime trying to get you to hang out with more people. I am wasting so much energy trying to help you get along with everyone.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” You snap back, voice tight. 

“No you didn’t because you seem to think I’m the only friend you need. Always around me. Always attached. So co dependent.”

“You haven’t said anything about it before.” He hadn’t, and you were trying really hard not to let your eyes water in this moment. 

“Because I felt bad! You’re so odd, I didn’t want to hurt your feelings about it. I love hanging out with you but just maybe not…. So much.”

“That Trish girl, you hadn’t even mentioned her before. How long has she been in DnD?” You ask, hating the way he seems to blush at the mention of her name. 

“She’s not technically. She hangs out with us when we practice for gigs an-”

“But you said that only the people in Hellfire got the shirts!” What a lame argument, you think to yourself. 

“That’s cause the boys- they just-”

“It’s fine.” You snap out, turning to walk away, tears running down your face causing a hot sticky feeling to follow under the dense heat. “I get it.”

“This didn’t have to be such a problem.” He calls after you, following a few steps behind. “Come on, don’t make this a fight. We can work-”

“It’s fine. I have another case I can work o-”

“Of course you do.” He laughs, and you turn back to see him whirl around with his hands up in a dramatic motion before slamming them to his hips. “Of course you have another case. That’s all you ever have.”

“It was fine for me.” You seethe, embarrassed at the fact that he was seeing you cry in a burger joint parking lot. “I like the cases, and I like not having a ton of friends. If you told me that you felt like I was too attached I would have pulled back.”

He gapes at you, his neck going a little red as he openly stares before taking a step forward in attempt to wipe some of the tears off your face only you pull back and slap his hand away. “I didn’t mean it…. It’s just been a long day and I’m sor-”

“I have to go.” You don’t risk another look back, even when he calls out your name. 

And once you get home, sobbing now, you make quick work of throwing away all the Nancy Drew books you had collected over the years.

-

Want a part 2 with an epic nancy drew mystery?

Find it HERE

[ultralightpoe]

What Is This Feeling? -Yelena Belova

Authors Note: Hate this but it's gotta escape my Drafts. I wrote this back in November when the soundtrack was released, and I hated it. Such a great concept I just couldn't make it work -Ultralightpoe

Warnings: Red room, torture, death.

Word Count: 5k words

Description: You and Yelena could never agree on anything while sharing a room in the red rooms.

Main Master List - - Marvel Master List

[Thank You For The Gif @ahumannamedmaddison ]

Enjoy!

x Song Inspo x

Dearest, darlingest Momsie and Popsical

My dear Father

There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz

But of course, I'll care for Nessa

But of course, I'll rise above it

For I know that's how you'd want me to respond

Yes

- 

“Dear father,” The words are scribbled in a haste, just as they had always been since Yelena had been brought back, torn between anger and a friend that a girl of her age wasn’t yet meant to feel. A few months ago she would never have had to have written these letters at all, a few months ago she would just now be waking up to the sound of her sister getting ready for school and their mother scrambling to collect their schoolwork. “There has been a bit of a change in my rooms.  I had been hoping they would send Nat in to be rooming with me, but that does not seem to be the case. I will keep my eye out for her though, I swear is papa. I know you would want us to keep an eye on each other and I will not let you down.”

She takes a deep breath in, trying to ignore the tight feeling in her throat as her hand shakes a bit, willing herself to calm down and try not to get too worked up. Once she is sure she would not ruin the page she pressed the pencil down once more. “My first test comes in less than a month. And even with the changes I will make sure to do good. I’m sure that this obstacle they have presented me is just another one of their hidden tests. I will not let her win.”

“Is Yelena writing to her papa again?” A teasing voice sounds out, drawing Yelena's attention to behind her where you currently stood, leaning on the doorframe of her room. Correction, your new shared room.  “Has he answered a single one of your letters so far?” 

“They said you would be coming in tomorrow morning.” She snipped out, eyes narrowing as she stood, her chair screeching against the floor of the room. 

“Had to move it up. Slight issues.” You huff, stepping into the room and pretending to look around, using this move to show the bruised knuckles you were holding. ‘Slight issues’ when spoken about you meant that you had taken the time to attack your former room mate. It was commonly known you enjoyed attacking your sisters. “You never answered my question. How is your papa these days, Lena?”

“Eat shit.” She responds, deciding she won’t feed into your current instigation, choosing to turn back to her desk and take her spot on the page once more. 

As she writes she can hear you toss your bag down before making a scene about moving your desk chair out and taking a spot yourself. Making sure she hears you open your own desk, slapping your paper upon the surface of the wood with a mocking whiny face. 

Don’t let her get to you, Lena. She could practically hear Tasha telling her. Be the bigger person. 

“DEAR PAPA,” You read out loud as your write, making your voice as whiny as possible. Yelena grips her pencil tight to keep calm. “PLEASE COME BACK AND SAVE ME! NO ONE LIKES ME AND I AM TERRIBLE AT ALL MY LESSONS! WAH WAH WAH-”

“Cука!” Yelena screams out, throwing her chair back to use it as a stepping stone in a higher launch at you. You catch her easily before knocking out her feet and trapping her in a head lock. 

The fight is messy, your are both all over the room throwing weak and chaotic punches that never hit their mark properly. By the time the guards manage to separate you the room is a disaster and there are bruises and scratches covering both your faces. 

You both get punished that night. Not for the fight or the room. But for not winning. 

Yelena vows she will never lose to you again. 

- 

There's been some confusion for, you see, my roommate is

Unusually and exceedingly peculiar

And altogether quite impossible to describe

Blonde

- 

It took 2 months to break the great Yelena Belova. Just 2 months before the two of you were standing before your instructor trying to bare out your sides of the story. Well….. She was. You couldn’t seem to give two shits which only seemed to aggravate her even more. 

“She is a reckless waste of space!” Yelena scoffs, eyes swinging to where you stood with your arms placed behind your back waiting for this to be over. “She ruins everything she touches-”

True, you had taken just about everything that crossed the border into your shared room and destroyed it. Soaking books, ripping blankets, breaking glass. This was a great way to build up her anger. 

“-She has no respect for my studies-” Once again true. But Yelena was insane with how much she worked. You would hear her wake up at 3 am just to stretch and workout before your morning lessons at 5. A fucking teachers pet. 

“-She is the worst. She has no cares of her grades or her standing in class. She is impossible. Impossible to describe. Impossible to deal with. IMPOSSIBLE.” Her words brought a smirk to your face as your shoulders lifted a bit more. True, true, true , true TRUE. Yelena was hitting every point. But she was missing the bigger picture. 

“She will never be able to work with another Widow.” And ring a ding ding. The Russian doll finally hit the nail on the head, hard enough that even your instructor's eyes seemed to widen. 

You would never be able to work well with anyone. You were a waste of potential. A future threat. Because as much as Yelena liked to talk about you not caring for your courses she couldn’t claim you weren’t a natural talent. Which you knew was a sore wound for the teacher's pet. 

But you also knew a bigger sore wound of hers. Alexei…. Natasha….. The good American family. 

You had a wound to match, not that anyone had ever bothered to ask or care. Not that anyone could see. You just moved on a little better then Yelena had. You swore to yourself the day you were hauled back that they would never want to send you out on another mission again. 

“What do you have to say to her words?” Your instructor asks, turning to you. “What do you think of her?”

You kept a bored look placed onto your face., turning to look at her with a light shrug. “Blonde.”

She yelled out “CYKA!” Once more, a word you now knew meant bitch in russian, before launching to attack you on the mat. You dodged easily, only to get struck down by your masters cane. 

“You will learn.” He seethes, some spit flying from his lip as he lifts the cane. 

By the time you got back to your room Yelena was in far less of a mood then when you both had been called in, choosing to organize her side of the room while you babied your broken bone on your side. 

“These things would not happen if you cared.” She mumbled out, tearing an eye roll from you. 

“Alexei would have come back for you if he cared.” You sneer out, turning to keep your back to her so that you wouldn’t have to see the look of devastation she was never able to hide. Yelena bared all her emotions on her face, she had yet to learn the trick of hiding them. And you had yet to learn not to react to tears springing from others eyes. 

These were not your sisters. You were taken from your sisters back in France, dragged into a van screaming and crying. You would not treat anyone in here as if they were your family. 

Your main mission was to be killed before you had to kill them. 

Before that the only thing that kept you from giving up was the thought of your family, that they would put up missing posters of you and go out searching. That they would find you one day and you would be able to go back home and this was all a bad dream. 5 years, and you had given that up. Now you kept the one goal. Be killed before you kill. 

If that meant Yelena was pissed about you ripping up her blanket then so be it. She would be real angry tomorrow when she found her pillow torn to shreds, broken wrist or not. 

- 

What is this feeling, so sudden and new

I felt the moment I laid eyes on you?

My pulse is rushing

My head is reeling

Yeah, well, my face is flushing

- 

“Yelena, you are taking well to your lessons.” Mistress Kusnetsov compliments, clapping her hands happily as her gaze follows Yelena across the room. She looked almost gleeful in watching the younger girl perform. Maybe it was because one of her students was learning so well, or maybe it was because she enjoyed watching people live a dream she was never able to after her ankle was snapped. 

You try not to flinch as you watch her limp to where Yelena now stood in her final pose from the dance, running a hand across her hair before clapping once more. Yelena turns to look at you, a gloating sort of look spread across her stupid face that sent you into a rage you never quite understood. You just wanted to do something to wipe that look off of her smug  face, something to ruin her mood like she always managed to ruin yours these days. 

A year, it had been a year since you became Yelena Belova’s roommate. The star pupil. Perfect marks in all her lessons, the grace of a gazelle when she danced. She had passed every single test she was given and her mission marks never went down. Blah blah blah fucking blah. 

She was a thorn in your side that was beginning to fester. 

You enjoyed it when she was out on missions because that meant the room to yourself, but everytime she came back you found yourself suffocating in that damn room. Every move she made had your pulse rushing. Every word sent your head reeling. 

She was a constant pain. 

And she was beginning to aggravate you more and more. 

“Find yourself a partner everyone. Run through your stretches.” Mistress calls out, clapping her hands together before moving to take her natural spot in the front of the room. You waste time watching her walk, nearly jumping forward to help her when she flinches a bit and you can see her leg shake a bit, the urge to help hitting you harder than you thought was normal. 

She turns once making it to her podium, narrowing her eyes when she catches you already looking before a slight gleam fills them when she takes in the room. “Yelena, you. Partners.”

“Shit.” You mumble as Yelena whirls on you. 

“No.” Yelena groans, but it was no use because while you wasted time seeing if the mistress needed help everyone else has paired up. 

“BEGIN!” She calls out and the room immediately fills with chatter as everyone begins working on their stretches. 

“Shall we actually work or are we going to waste time with you pretending you suck at everything?” She asks, circling around you as her accent sinks into your skin. 

“I just wouldn’t want to step into your spotlight.” You huff out, eyes tracking her as she glares, allowing her to circle so that you could try and trip her up. “Oh Yelena aren’t you so perfect. Yelena please sit by me at lunch-”

Your foot snaps out to catch her ankle, kicking her off balance with a swift move that makes her gasp out before stepping to the bar to begin your stretches. 

“You wouldn’t be so bad if you tried, no?” She asks, moving to stand behind you and follow your pattern. “Maybe you be worth something?”

“What is the big deal about being worth something?” You laugh. “So I can end up torturing girls when I grow up, limping on a hobbled foot and watching them like hawks for any mistake?”

“I’m sure Mistress had a wonderful career-”

“You’re a fool. Always have been Yelena.” You snap, turning to face her. “You feed into the propaganda, always so desperate to be needed-”

“You ruin everything, because deep down you know you can’t keep up.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You snip, shoving her back before turning to the front. “Mistress, might I give my presentation now?”

It was a foolish thing, to let one teacher see you exel. To let her know that you were excellent in what you were being taught. But you would do anything to wipe the smug look off of Yelena’s face. And so you do, once everyone goes along the sides to watch and Mistress plays the music you allow yourself to blend with it the way your mind always loved to do. 

One Prose, a quad pirouette, ballotte on pointe. You manage all the moves as easily as the wind catching by a river. 

And when you hit the final pose you don’t bother to look to where your mistress is clapping ecstatically, you look right to where Yelena stood on the sidelines, the smug grin of hers now set into a scowl. 

And the feeling of pride from that look is far too addicting to never see again. 

- 

What is this feeling, fervid as a flame?

Does it have a name?

Yes

- 

The competition takes form then, catching like a flame on wick. Before you never played along, sure you did things to get yourself in trouble but that never worked anymore, you were just littered with scars that never got you anywhere. 

But pissing Yelena off? That made everything worth it. 

Sharp shooting? Yelena scored well, you scored better when you managed to shoot within the same wound 4 times. 

Sambo? You both made it to the final mat, which is when you brought her to the bat with a swift 3 moves. 

Over and over, every lesson, non stop. Everytime Yelena gave you that smug smile thinking she had won, you found ways to ruin it. 

- 

Loathing

Unadulterated loathing

For your face, your voice, your clothing

Let's just say, I loathe it all

Every little trait, however small

Makes my very flesh begin to crawl

- 

You know Yelena is up to something the second she enters your shared room without muttering any of her Russian curse words out, choosing to head to her side and begin organizing everything. You watch for a moment, trying to figure out her game before giving up and turning back to keep memorizing the words from your novel as she begins to hum out a tune you didn’t recognize. 

She begins getting louder and louder until you can’t even pretend to ignore her, slamming your book shut and turning to her with a sigh. “Why so cheery, Yelena?”

“Oh no reason.” She smiles, shrugging her shoulders, turning to look at you with yet another famed smug expression. “I was just packing for another mission.”

A thrill shoots through you for a moment at the idea of her not being in the room for a minute before you stop short, eyes narrowing as you try to figure out her game. “And why is that cause for gloating?”

Something in her expression snaps as her head tilts, and you realize that she was trying to figure out your game the same way you were trying to figure out hers. “I just figured you would be interested to know, even with all your brilliant marks you still weren’t chosen for the mission.”

“Good for you Yelena.” You had no want or need to ever go on a mission. None. 

“You’re not at all upset?” You loathed the way her head tilted like a cat when she was targeting you, the way your face would flush as you tried to think through arguments. 

“Not at all.”

“You’ve never wanted to go to Peru?” 

“Is that where they are sending you? How exciting.” You smile, moving back to pick up your book, showing that you didn’t care.

“America, Ireland, Romania?”

“This is going to be a long mission, would you mind if I pushed your bed over here to make a larger one?” 

“I’m only getting sent to France.” She bites out, shoulders dropping as she realized she had lost the fight, only hitting the mark at the very end. 

Your shoulders tighten and you sit up straight, by the time you realize you were showing all your emotion it was too late because she had already seen it and that gloating smile was back once more. 

“You wanted to go to France?”

“I’ve already been.”

“You’ve never been on a mission.”

“I’m from there.” You snip, the tears welling into your eyes as you shove past her, slamming the door shut loud enough the decoy frames in the hall rattle as you storm down to the training center. 

- 

With simple, utter loathing

There's a strange exhilaration

In such total detestation

It's so pure, so strong

Though I do admit it came on fast

Still I do believe that it can last

And I will be loathing, loathing you my whole life long

- 

The pain in your shoulder was extreme, every move sent a sharp pain up your arm that was harsh enough it had you seeing blind spots, knees nearly caving in as you struggled to keep upright. Blood was pouring from your nose and you were struggling to keep up with your partner on the mat today. 

“PAY ATTENTION!” Your master shouts, slapping the mat as he watches you both circle each other for the third time. She was going easy on you, she was babying you during a punishment. This was the perfect time to knock you out and take her prize but Malyra had always been a bit too into the sisterhood, always wanting to protect each other.

“Just do it.” You sneer, trying to crack your neck only to get another twinge of pain that had you gasping out. Her face morphs into guilt, but then she jumps out like a viper, wrapping around you and slipping you both enough to send you to the mat. 

You managed to pass out from the pain, the black void greeting you like an old friend. 

And you were at peace….. Until you woke up to the sight of Yelena Belova above you. 

“Hello old friend.” She smiles, tilting her head in that catlike way that had you groaning out. “Now now, is that anyway to greet your friend who moved you from the infirmary to our room?” “Eat shit, Lena.” You snap, closing your eyes. 

“You know, it was odd when I came back.” She begins, making herself comfortable by sitting by your thigh, patting you in what some would think was comforting and you knew to be condescending. “I come home from mission and no one greets me and I think maybe I did something wrong. Then I remember that I am Yelena and I do no wrong.”

“Lena please.”

“Then I find out that you try to escape and they break your shoulder. Cyka, stupid.” She snaps, growling out that last word. “You have gone months without punishment and you choose while I am gone to do so?” 

“Eat shit, Lena.” You sigh again, trying to turn away from her as she begins ranting all about how aggravating you were.  “Enough. ENOUGH. Okay.”

“No not enough. You let Malrya beat you.” She growls. “You beat me last mat and if she beat you then that puts her on top. Stupid!” “So let me get this straight….. You come back to find out I had been punished and lost a fight but you’re not mad cause I put myself in danger but you’re upset that I ruined a standing?”

“Yes.” She nods, yet when you look at her something in it just seems so…. Off. 

“Welcome back, Lena.” You sigh out, struggling to sit up. 

“Cyka.” She mutters, allowing you to pass by her with a brush of your shoulder before you stop and turn back. 

“How did the mission go?” You asked because something felt off, you asked because this wasn’t Yelena staring at you now. 

“It went fine.” And she tried to smile, and for the first time in a long time you felt a little bad for Yelena. 

- 

Dear Galinda, you are just too good

How do you stand it? I don't think I could

She's a terror, she's a tartar

We don't mean to show a bias

But, Galinda, you're a martyr

Well, these things are sent to try us

- 

“You don’t understand Yelena.” Someone whispers. “She never listens to orders.”

“She isn’t loyal to Hydra.”

“She will get you in trouble.” Over and over they all seem to whisper, and you try not to think too hard into it as you scarf food down, casting your eyes across the room anywhere you could. Something was off today and you were trying to figure it out. 

The headcount for lunch was off, at least 24 girls are not here when they should be, and the guard to girl ratio was off as well, 1 guard to every 5 girls when normally those numbers were reversed. Odd. 

Your thought process is cut off by Yelena plopping in the seat right in front of you. 

“Before you start I am only sitting here so I don’t have to talk about my mission, so do me a favor and eat shit. Yeah?” She snaps out, raising a hand to stop you from talking even though you hadn’t even opened your mouth. “Be grateful I am here. People are beginning to talk about you like you are a sore thumb.”

“A sore thumb?”

“You are danger. Risk. No good.”

“Is it me or is the accent getting thicker?” 

“Maybe. Maybe I push it more cause I know it annoys you.” She smiles and you roll your eyes, pretending like she wasn’t sitting right in front of you and choosing to look past to keep watching the guards pass back and forth.  “You need to actually eat, you just shovel it down and you never actually chew-”

“Do you see what I see?” 

“I’m not a lunatic,” She scoffs. “So no. I do n-”

“Look. The way the guards are moving around and the way there are less of them. And look how many grades we are missing.”  

“Grades?” 

“Other years. I need you to keep up.” You sigh, trying not to roll your eyes as she pulls a judgemental face. “Older years. Natashas age. They are all missing today.”

That seems to snap her to attention, the fork in her hand falling with a clatter against her tray. She looks around the room quickly, noting everything you just mentioned before turning back and looking at you intently. “How you see that?”

“Not all of us are pompous.” You mumble back, standing up with your tray when you see you only have about 3 minutes left for lunch.  You had a routine, get out before anyone else so that you could make it to your dorms without too much ridicule these days. 

But today  would not seem to work in your favor. 

A shout at  the end of the hall pulls your attention, and Yelena stops beside you to turn and see right as one of the guards summons you. 

“I think he means me.” Lena sighs out, moving to walk in front of you before the guard snaps out, “Not Belova. Just the other one.”

For the first time since you had moved into the same room Yelena looks downright shocked, and not in the competitive way she normally carried, but this time in a panicked sort of fear.  “Will you be alright?”

It’s spoken in a whisper, and you almost hadn’t heard it, but confusion takes hold because why would Yelena ever be worried about you? 

Choosing not to answer, instead walking past to follow the guard. Though if you knew that you would be getting your first mission you never would have followed. 

- 

Poor Galinda, forced to reside

With someone so disgusticified

We just want to tell you, we're all on your side!

We share your loathing

- 

There was blood on your hands now, you would never be able to go back. 

There was blood on your hands and no matter how hard you scrubbed it wouldn’t wash off. 

There was blood everywhere… everywhere…. Blood…. Blood…. Blood…. 

“She killed Malrya.” Someone whispers, catching your attention to the shadows that took place under the door of your rooms, feet that belonged to people trying to get a glimpse in the room to see the widow that had killed another. 

“Oh Yelena. You need to request a move -” The door swings open, the blonde that you had known for 5 years now coming into view before slamming it quickly.  Her glare is quick, immediately finding you in the room as she crosses it to stand at the edge of your bed. 

“You want to talk about it?”

“Red.” You blurt, keeping your gaze on your hands rather than looking at her. Looking at the wrapping that had been placed from the welts and sores you had formed with the amount of times you washed your hands. You had just wanted to get the blood off your hands, you just wanted to clean the stains off. 

“What’s red?” She asks, and you were going to be sick based on the way her tone softened in a way she had never used with you before. She reaches a hand out, grabbing one of yours to turn up and inspect your palms, thumbing at the wrapping.  

“That’s…. That’s all I saw.” You explain, pulling your hand away. “Lena, i’ve never had that happen before.”

“I don’t understand….”

“It was like a fog. Mentally I was begging her to kill me to just get it done and over with but I couldn’t say the words. It wasn’t me moving my body, I was merely watching from behind a red fog.” You sob, standing up to escape where Yelena was standing. “Everything I worked for. All the punishments and ways out of missions- I never w-wanted…..”

Any attempts of escape were mute because within a moment Yelena had you wrapped in her arms, pulling you in until you were both sitting on the floor, allowing you to cry as she held you close.  

- 

What is this feeling, so sudden and new (unadulterated loathing)

I felt the moment I laid eyes on you? (For her face, her voice, her clothing)

My pulse is rushing (let's just say)

My head is reeling (we loathe it all)

- 

“Tasha is gone.” Yelena whispers the next morning, laying beside you in your bed, staring up at the ceiling with her hand woven in between yours. She had kept a tight grip since you both landed in the bed last night, refusing to let go even when you got silent. Firmer in those moments actually. 

“What do you mean?’

“Dreykov. His daughter was killed and Tasha was a part of it. She got out. She escaped.” 

“What does this mean now?” Your voice doesn’t break over a whisper as you turn your head from the ceiling to look at her, feeling more broken than you ever have before. 

“I think it means you… have been right. And I hate to say it.” And damn it if that didn’t make you laugh even in the worst moment. 

- 

Oh, what is this feeling? (Every little trait, however small)

Does it have a name? (Makes our very flesh begin to crawl)

Yes, ah, ah

- 

You were out of breath as you hit the mat, back hitting with an extra thud as the pain laced through your body, Yelena standing above you with a quizzical look as she tries to process what exactly had gone wrong. 

The mat room was empty at this time of night, which is why Yelena and you always found yourselves here. Where no one could see you both and what you were trying to do. Trying to see what the red fog was, and every time you got your ass kicked without a hint of it coming out you found a festered sort of anger building up. 

Over and over, Yelena beating you to a pulp and you trying to see what you had seen the day of Malrya…. Malrya with her devastated look when you-

“Get up.” Yelena breathes out, stepping back. “We try again.”

“No. No more.” You complain, closing your eyes as your turn over to your side in attempt to lift yourself up, climbing to stand up.  “It’s useless and you know it.”

“No it isn’t. Let’s go again.” 

“What if I lied? Or what if I made something up to make myself feel better?”

“You didn’t.” She seethes. “You didn’t and we both know you didn’t. You used to instigate fights all the time, I always hit first and no matter what you said you did because you wanted to take the blame. You used to rip apart everything I owned but you never once touched my letters to Alexei.”

“Lena-”

“You would never kill Malrya. You gave Malrya extra biscuits at lunch when you thought no one noticed.”

“But on the mission-”

“I believe you.”  She seethes. “I know you. And I believe you.”

“Aren’t you afraid I might do the same thing to you one day?” It’s a question that has been heavy on your mind for a minute, a haunting presence looming behind your neck. 

“You want to know what I am afraid of?” Eyes filled with tears Yelena moves closer to you, hands coming up to your arms to keep you in place. “I’m scared that one day you will be sent out and I will never see you again.”

“But we hate each other.”

“We do.” Her hair bounces a bit as she nods, but then she leans forward and allows her lips to press into yours, the two of you melting into each other. And maybe the way you melted into each other so perfectly was the scariest thing of all. 

-

[Never finished this…… whoops?]

[ultralightpoe]

I'm Confessin' That I Love You - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: This has many parts already written but I was always scared to release it. Now or never y'all.. Next part queued up soon. -Ultralightpoe

Word Count: Over 5k

Warnings: Mind control.

Description: Bucky and You find yourself trapped in the hex. 50s start.

Main Masterlist Here - - Marvel Masterlist Here

[Thank You For The Gif @whimsicalrogers ]

Enjoy!

“You don’t understand-” The words are rushed out between sobs, your throat squeezing in on itself as you push to speak. Pushing the rain out of your eyes is no easy task, with the way your hands were shaking and the wind was making the weather beat down harder. It was even more of a struggle to see through it all, and yet the eyes you stared into were magnetic enough that you’d probably be able to find them in even the darkest nights. “I n-need Steve. Something is wrong.”

“I get that.” His voice soothes you, reaching a hand out before something shudders across his face and he draws a hand back with a flinch. “But he’s not here. And he left you my information for a reason….”

He was right, you knew he was right. But a part of you was breaking, something in your chest caving in. Thunder cracked behind you loud enough to make you shudder as the ground beneath you shook, and you could see the man before you move as if he was preparing to block you from whatever threat was coming. 

“You can trust me here….”

“Something is wrong and I think-” Another sob racked through your body, making your ribs ache a bit. “Steve would know how to talk to her.”

“We can go together, just take a look.” He offers, bending a little to catch your eye. “Once we see where the problem is we can come up with a plan. Yeah?”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother to me.” Bucky whispers, shaking his head. “And if you think something is wrong then something is wrong.”

- 

The clock at the bottom of the stairs rang out just as the sun was beginning to climb its way up the sky, stretching the light across half the bedroom in a villainous motion that had Bucky Barnes turning for cover, using the pillow to cover his eyes before he reached his hand across the bed in effort to grab you, only to feel the chill of your side empty. With a betrayed sort of look he manages to hoist himself into sitting up, eyes still closed and leaning all his weight on his left arm as he calls out, “Doll?”

He waits a moment, then another, and once he realizes there would be no answer a small groan escapes him knowing there was no way he’d get back to sleep if you weren’t there with him. So he shifts his weight, hauling himself out of the bed and finally managing to crack his eyes open to the new light of the day. 

Your bed sits untouched in the side of the room, not surprising since the second you both moved in here it became useless. Two newlyweds who refused to sleep apart, many said it would pass, and yet you were still going strong. Instead you both slept in his, and he took care to at least somewhat make his side so you would have less to do today before he shuffles his feet down the hall and down the steps, breathing in the smell of your cooking. 

“Please tell me you did not abandon me to make breakfast.” He whines, leaning on the doorway of the kitchen as he takes you in, chest tightening at the way the early morning sunlight seems to wrap around you like a glow. 

“Of course I did.” You huff back, a smile cracking across your face that makes one slide across his own in response as you move gracefully to his side of the room to try and kiss his cheek in a greeting. Ever the greedy husband he moves until your lips land on his, and it doesn’t take you long to melt into it. 

And just like that, all his dreams came true. The way your body seemed to melt into his own as his arms wrapped around you to pull you in as close as possible, lips glued together as if both think if you separated now you would never be able to kiss again. And Bucky just wasn’t willing to risk that.

Ever since your first kiss, which was….. 

As if you could hear how fast his head was moving you pulled back, pulling a slight whine from him until you looked up at him with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen and all worries seemed to vanish from him immediately. 

“I've been dreamin’ about you since the moment I met ya.” He drawls out, leaning his forehead to touch yours, and nothing could fight off the smile that spreads across his face when he feels you hug him. 

That was before the smell of burning filled the kitchen and you gasped out, pushing away from him with enough force he let out an “oomph” before you dash to the stove and try to pull the bacon off the stove. 

“Damn you and your magnetic eyes.” You huff, whirling around with an accusatory look. “You better shake a leg, dreamboat. Or else you’re gonna be late again.”

“Or we can turn everything off and head up for another couple hours of sleep?” He counters, attempting to grab you into his arms again before you stop him with a shake of your head. “You have work. Now go.”

He does what you tell him, rushing up the stairs to find something to wear only to see that you had already laid out clothes for him on the bed….. Only…. Had they been there when he woke up? Why would you have laid them on the bed and not hanging on the wardrobe door if he was still in the bed earlier? And he swore he hadn’t seen the suit….. 

A pulsing fills his ears as he stares down at the fabric before moving to slide a finger over the left sleeve, until his gaze rips from the jacket to his arm where flesh now sat. 

Something felt odd. 

There was a feeling sitting on the back of his spine as he whirled to take in the room, but he recognized everything. Your hairbrush on the dresser, his dog tags hanging on your lamp where you insisted you keep them. Your honeymoon photos decorating any open space he could find when you moved in…. Only…. 

This didn’t feel right. 

Where had you both gone for your honeymoon? Sure the photos showed you both in some suits at a beach, you on his shoulders posing with the sun behind you both, but he couldn’t remember the day at all. 

And when he wracked his brain he couldn’t remember your wedding, or your first date or first kiss. 

“James!” Your voice calls up the stairs, snapping his attention to the door. He hadn’t even realized it but he had walked until he was right in front of the pictures on the nightstand, and his heart was thundering.

“Be right down.” He calls back, casting one more look to the photo before rushing to get dressed as he had promised you. 

His chest felt tight, and he kept casting paranoid looks around the room until he was back down the stairs with you waiting for him with a plate, and when you kissed him all his worries vanished. “You took too long. It’s a little cold.” 

“And I’m sure it will still be delicious, Doll.” 

“Come sit, let me get you some orange juice.” You boss him around, leading him to the table before moving to grab the glass pitcher. 

“Hey Doll, you remember our honeymoon?” He blurts, eyes watching you with nothing but adoration as you cross the room to sit by him at the table. 

“Of course! We had the best time in……” Your smile remains wide but he notes something flashing in your eyes as your eyebrows pinch in. 

“But not as much fun as our first date I’m sure.” He supplies, watching your face pinch up even more. 

“Oh, our first date… when we…”

A moment of silence hits the table, both of you staring at each other with round eyes before a laugh escapes you. “I’m having such a frazzled morning. Please ignore me darling.”

“Me? Ignore you?” He laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think I could if I tried, Angel.” 

And just like that the morning was fixed, you made sure he ate, and he put up a fit until ate with him, before grabbing the lunch you packed and walking him to his car. 

“Have a wonderful day.” 

And it feels like heaven when he gets to lean in and kiss you goodbye before getting into his car and heading off to work, but the second you vanish from his sight that tight feeling in his chest returns once more. 

He was being absurd, and a terrible husband. Oh how his Ma’ would kill him if she found out he had forgotten these things. 

The wedding had been in… 

“Watch out!” Someone calls out, a moment too late for the metal arm that had already wrapped the hand around the agents neck, squeezing tightly as panic filled her eyes, her nails clawing in a desperate attempt to get some air. 

You had forgotten to pack a swimsuit and you dragged him to go buy a new one when you were on your honeymoon out in….. 

The Soldat was so intent on watching the woman choke that he missed the shield thrown at him, the metal throwing him back, and since he had a firm grip the agent came with him. Only he let go at the last second to try and catch himself. And once he had his footing he moved to reach her only to realize she was already gone. 

Oh golly, he was being a terrible husband. He should know these things. And frustration was beginning to claim him as he tried to think of anything at all. 

Tension rose on the back of the Soldats neck, and he turned just in time for the agent to attack him, her legs wrapping around his shoulders as she used the momentum and her own body weight to lay them both out. Both of you managed to catch yourselves at the same time and he was quick to try and punch you only for you to block once more. A field hits him, and it takes a moment to realize the agent had shielded themselves with an energy barrier he had never seen before, and the second her hand touches his now exposed cheek he collapses with exhaustion. 

“James? Are you alright?” Someone asks, snapping Bucky out of his…. Dream? Drawing his attention to where his coworker now stood. 

“How…. When did I get to work?”

“You parked a couple minutes ago pal. You have been standing here since.” 

“Right…. “ He nods, clearing his throat before a calm ease overtakes him. “Let’s get a move on. The quicker I get this day over the quicker I get back to my best gal.”

“No need to rub it in hotshot.” 

- 

The conversation between you and Bucky from the morning had stuck with you for some reason, and it was all you could think about as you watched him drive down the street on his way to work. 

Oh what a terrible wife you were. 

What kind of wife forgot her wedding?! Or her honeymoon?! Even the first kiss! 

“Is everything all right?” Someone asks, pulling your attention to a woman with black hair and an oddly knowing smile, her plaid dress swishing at her calves as she took you in. “You look like you’ve lost the plot of this whole show!”

“I…. I’m sorry?” 

“Agatha. Friends call me Aggy, you can call me Agatha.” She teases, holding out her hand for you to shake, only the second your skin touches hers she jumps a bit in surprise. “Oh golly, aren’t you just a ball of energy? Even I could feel it.”

“The study is showing great signs, no one has fed off the energy the way this subject has.” Your father explains, not quite managing to look at where you stood behind him, his entire body tense. “The mutant blood mixed with the dna from the-”

“I understand, but it doesn’t make a difference. Hydra does not want…. Energy… they want super soldiers.”

“She can supply or take energy in just a second with just a simple touch, Ray. She can make plants grow without so much as breaking a sweat. You have to show them. I wouldn’t have put my own daughter down as a subject if I didn’t believe it.” 

“Your daughter is the only one to come out alive. And you’re lucky she had. I recommend you grab her and get as far away from here as possible. They are sending…..” The words muffle out for a moment as you look around the room but you pay attention once more when your father grabs your arm. 

“The Winter Soldier is a myth.” 

“You need to run. There is no way out. Hydra does not forgive easily.”

“Hellooooo?” Polished nails snap in front of your face, pulling your attention back to Agatha. “I was asking you questions, dear. Where are you from? Are you married? Are you single? Not for me of course, maybe for my husband if it gets him out of my hair.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.” You laugh, casting your eyes down to the empty garden plot behind her before looking back at her, or more specifically the broach on the collar of her dress. “Isn’t that nice? Family heirloom?”

For some reason you could feel nothing but energy coming off of it, almost like if you touched it then you’d see something, and without even fully knowing what you were doing you reached a hand out to try. 

The woman in front of you stepped back sharply, eyes slashing a moment of fury before her face fixed back to the smiling happy look she started with. “Look at the time, I gotta run. And I don’t want to be a wet rag on your morning now. Have a good day!” 

And with that she is off, walking down the street in a hurry before you look down to the garden plot once more and lean forward. You really should plant something, it would be perfect weather for it. 

You allow your hands to get a feel of the dirt, breathing in the smell before looking up at the house with narrowed eyes as you try to decide. Maybe roses, though you wanted something with a bit more of a pop. And Bucky worked so hard to find a house you wanted to make it look good. Bushes were boring, maybe some poppies? But those were so closely related to the military you didn’t want them to upset your husband. 

Maybe Catmint or Azaleas? Both of those had a brilliant color and you were sure Bucky would-

You felt the shift in the air, and the moment a zing passed through your ribs in a way that made your breath hitch, looking down just in time to see both Catmint and Azaleas begin to grow at a rapid pace from the once barron dirt. 

Panic claws through you as you jump away, landing in the grass beneath you as you continue to stare at the flowers with wild eyes. 

“What are your seduction techniques?” A familiar voice calls out and you turn to find Wanda standing by your fence- Wanda! 

“Oh Wanda! I was looking for you!” You exclaim, jumping up to rush and hug her. 

“Whatever for?” 

“I….. well I have no…..” Why had you been looking for Wanda? “Oh enough about me. Why are you asking about seduction techniques?”

“Oh you will never believe the mess I’m in.” She begins, and you link arms with her to lead her inside, casting one last look at the flower bed before shutting the door behind you. 

- 

The screen flickers to life in black and white, framed with soft static. A cheerful jingle trills in the background, all xylophones and harmony that you could hum along to.  The camera pans over a pristine kitchen: floral curtains, sparkling countertops, and a smiling housewife. Her hair is curled to perfection and her dress moves at her calves with every slight move she makes.  She’s humming as she waters a potted plant, which droops sadly.

The narrator's voice is chipper and crisp, unmistakably male:

“Feeling a little wilted, darling? Has your energy been drained by the day-to-day grind?”

The housewife pauses, a perfect housewife smile frozen in place as she glances at the drooping leaves. Her brows pinch together, just a touch. Then she reaches out. As her fingers brush the plant, something pulses. The leaves twitch. Then swell. The entire flower perks up, too fast, too bright, glowing faintly at the edges.

She smiles again, but the corners of her eyes don't join in.

“Introducing VitaRays! The only household tonic that gives and takes, with just a touch!”

Cut to animated line art of a flower smiling wide, then cut again to the same flower draining the sun dry like a straw.

“Infused with the latest in scientific innovation, and thoroughly family-tested!”

A black-and-white photo fades in: the housewife as a young girl, standing beside a man in a lab coat. Her smile is small. His hand rests heavy on her shoulder. Behind his glasses, his eyes are unreadable.

“Why, with VitaRays, you’ll be the brightest bloom on the block! Whether you’re tending your garden, keeping your husband happy, or bringing back what ought to stay gone…”

The audio warps the slightest notch, pausing on the word gone before stopping.  A breath of static follows, ringing in your ears. But before anyone could realize a jingle takes its place, the harmony once again keeping beat. But there is something there…. A voice under the jingle, too low to make out but almost familiar. The screen skips.

The housewife stares into the camera now. Just for a second. Too long. Her smile doesn't change, but her eyes are pleading.

Then the screen cuts to a bright, spinning logo: “VitaRays It’s not magic. It’s inheritance.”

A final chime plays. High-pitched and grating, like the ringing in your ears after a bomb.

Then black.

- 

“She was found by shield as a kid, in the laboratory her father worked in. Hydra owned, they were paying for everything in his experiments. Intel says that they… “ Natasha starts, a look of guilt passing over her face as she takes in Steve’s angry face.

“Got tired of waiting?”

“No one ever saw him go in and out, it just fed into the Winter Soldier myth all the more. But he was definitely there. Killed them all.”

“Then who is that standing over Fury?”

“The lead scientist was…… using his daughter as a trial. She was found in the lab, unharmed but a bit confused. Fury said that she didn’t have a scratch on her but she swore she had been shot. And her father had been shot as well but he was walking around the lab with her.”

“She brought him back?” 

“Not fully. He was like a walking zombie.”

“And we are bringing her in to heal him?”

“He’s not dead and she’s not a scared five year old. He was shot and she can help.”

“I figure there are more important things for you both to be doing than hiding in this snack room gossiping about me.” You sigh, leaning on the doorframe as they both whip around to spot you. “Aren’t you both supposed to have heightened senses? Couldn’t hear me standing here the whole time?”

“What do you know about the winter soldier?” Steve asks, something a lot more gentle in his voice than he had a minute ago. 

“I know he’s dangerous, and broken.” You shrug. “But we all have been at some point, right?”

You leave them there, walking back to Fury’s room as you try to forget everything. 

- 

“Oh honey,” Bucky trills as he swings in at the door, a large smile plastered on his face as he takes you in. “I’m home.”

“You’re late.” You huff, turning your chin just the slightest bit to perform a fake dramatic moment that has him chuckling. “I have been waiting far too long.”

“Oh don’t I know it. Every moment from you feels like torture.” He moves closer with an easy stride until he is kneeling in front of where you sit, pulling your chin until you look at him. “How about we make up for lost time with some backseat bingo?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, you are fast!” 

“Can you be fast when you’re married? Or is it just following your vows?” 

“Yes! Our….Vows…..” You nod, a fog in your eyes making his chest ache with nerves. 

“Which…. Were….” He continues, leaning up a bit to press his nose into yours as his brain racks. 

“Absolutely wonderful!” You rush, leaning forward to press your lips into his before he can object, allowing a small moan to slip out when he immediately kisses back which just makes his arms wrap a little tighter around you as your legs wrap around him to pull him in. 

It deepens more and more, almost like both of you are desperate for this, like you need it to breathe. But just your luck the phone shrills out, making you both jump and pull apart before he moves to answer it. 

“Barnes residence.” He sighs, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you giggle. “Well ain’t that a bite….. Uh huh…. Alright now, easy…. No need to flip your lid now. You know the Mrs. and I will be right over.” 

He hangs up quickly before standing up and extending a hand to you, which you gladly accept. “Wanda needs us.” 

“Something is wrong with Wanda.” You gasp out the second Bucky Barnes opens his door, the rain pelting on you as he took in your appearance with wild eyes. “S-Steve promised and he’s not here and I can’t find Sam or Clint or- And Steve told me where to find you when I saw him at the home- I don’t-”

“Easy now.” He tries, reaching his arms out to try and touch you only for you to flinch away. He feels like he has just been stabbed as he watches you, but it’s not entirely surprising considering everything he has done. “Tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything. That’s the problem! I can’t feel her! All I feel is this odd shifted energy but none of Wandas…. It’s just….. Chaos.”

- 

“Alright goose it.” You laugh, watching Bucky dramatically hit the gas before guiding the car down the street in the direction Wanda lives. “Remind me again why we drove?”

“To make it seem like we are not last minute invites, Doll.”

“But we are?”

“Optical illusion I believe.”

“I won’t question your judgement.”

“And yet I think you will.” He laughs, hopping out of the car before dashing to open your door. “Milady’.”

“Oh what a gentlemen.” You laugh, allowing him to help you out before grabbing the bowl of fruit you had rushed to cut.

“Say, Doll, where’d you get all this fruit anyways?” “I…. went to the garden?” The garden in the backyard, that had been empty before you touched it.

“You’ve really been working hard while I’m at work.” He smiles, grabbing your hand and letting you lead him up to the door. “Is that a lobster?”

“It’s Wanda and Visions home, are you surprised?” He shrugs at your words, reaching to use the lobster as a door knock before Vision opens the door with a wild look. 

“Oh! Look dear, another couple!” An older woman yells, pushing past Vision to greet you both at the door. 

“Aren’t you two just the apple of ones eye. Oh my.”

“I’m James and this is my wife.” Bucky greets, allowing her to pull him but not before giving you a helpless look. 

“I do believe that Wanda might need a bit of help if you would.” Vision mumbles under his breath, pushing you to the door gently. You reach up to pat his hand in comfort, and the second your skin touches his something feels funky. 

The energy is not…. Human? It feels…. Like a machine. 

“Are you alright dear?” The older woman calls and you place a smile on your face before exclaiming some excuse about hating running late before pushing into the kitchen to find Wanda. 

“Oh don’t you look dolly!” You smile, rushing to hug her tightly. “I brought fruit!” 

“You are my saviour. Let’s get to work.”

- 

Bucky was placed besides Mrs. Hart at the table, across from you which he could not complain about. Who could complain when they were staring at an angel? No matter how weird the night had been so far. 

A weird night indeed. Between Vision breaking out into the song yakety yak, and Mrs. Hart claimed she was beginning to feel woozy due to lack of food. 

But it was all done, and they were seated at a the dinner table in front of a brilliant spread of breakfast for dinner. 

“Very european.” Mrs. Hart compliments, giving Bucky a little giggle as he smiles at her. 

“So where did both of you couples move from? What brought you here? How long have you been married? Why don’t you have any ankle biters yet?” She asks, her cheeks tinted with a blush that could be seen through the black and white film. 

“Oh! We moved from….” Wanda starts, fixing up her napkin nervously. 

“Yes! We moved from….” Vision continues for her. 

“We got married in…..” Bucky starts, his head spinning a little as he looks to you for an answer. 

“Yes! Way back in…..”

“Well?” Mr. Hart asks, his voice layered in aggravation. “Moved from where? Married when?”

“Oh easy now, they are just building up the story for us!” Mrs. Hart defends, reaching forward to pat your hand across the table before moving to pat Vis’ arm right next to her. 

But when no one could think of a thing to say Mr. Hart could only get more aggravated, looking at Wanda as he began to ask. “Why did you come here? Why?”

Wanda was frozen, her eyes holding a glassy look that had you freezing as well as that feeling of Deja Vu pushed in a bit. 

Mr. Hart slams his hands on the table, and Bucky snaps straight with a firm look in his eyes as he assesses any threat and how quickly he could get to you. He notes the exits and anything he can use as a weapon before looking at you. 

“Damn it, why?! Why did you…” And just like that Mr. Hart begins to huff for air, his eyes growing panicky. 

“Oh Arthur, stop it!” Mrs. Hart giggles, but the energy coming off of her was nothing but fear as he continued to struggle for breath. “Stop it. Stop it. STOP IT. PLEASE STOP IT!”

Each time she said it the words turned more and more into a plea as she looked at Wanda, tears beginning to slip from her eyes while Arthur Hart continued to choke right beside you and yet you were frozen to your seat. You wanted to reach for him, but a red haze blocked your mind's decision as you merely watched it all. 

Bucky was in the same boat, fighting to get any piece of his body to move but being stuck in the motion. 

It isn’t until he collapses to the ground that the spell breaks and Wanda looks to Vision, finally ordering him to do something. 

And he does, phasing his hand through to grab the sausage that had lodged in Mr. Harts throat. 

And then the room shifts completely, no more clock chiming, nothing but a happy serene moment. 

“Well, would you look at the time?” Mr. Hart chuckles, without a single hint that he had just been choking. “We best be off.”

“What?” Bucky asks, blinking at them as they both rush to leave, giggling and jolly once more. 

He makes it to your side of the table, a hand on your back rubbing up and down to comfort you before you both head to grab your jackets. 

“I’m glad you came.” Wanda hums, hugging you a bit before pulling back. Bucky moves to lead you away, face strung up in confusion before Wanda calls your name once more. His hand clenches where it sits on your back, gripping at your dress like he is afraid she’ll snatch you away and his energy looms over you like a comforting blanket. 

“Do you mind?” She asks, using her finger to gesture around the room where each and every plant is wilted and dying. 

“Oh….” You gape, blinking slowly at them before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in. You hear Bucky’s breath hitch and by the time you open your eyes the plants are blooming beautifully. 

He pushes you out quickly, casting a quick goodnight before gripping his hand in yours. 

“That was….”

“It was.” You agree, nodding blankly as he watches the sidewalk before you both as you walk home. 

“I don’t remember seeing Mr. Hart take a bite of food.” You hum, head spinning a little. 

“I don’t either.” Bucky nods before stopping in front of your shared home. “Do you remember when we moved in?”

A part of you wanted to rush out a lie, not ready to be caught for the terrible wife you were, but you were so tired. “Not a bit.”

“Odd.” He comments, leading you in. He stays close, a panicky feel to him and you can see him studying every angle, every door and window like he was waiting for a threat. But then a pulse of chaotic energy fills the air, and an easy smile fills his face as he turns to you. 

“Come on snake, let’s rattle.” He offers out a hand, which you gladly accept as he leads you to the middle of the living room as music from your records begins to play. 

“I’m confessin’ that I love you. One of my favorites.” He sighs, keeping his forehead pressed to yours as the song plays out. 

“I must confess, Buck, I don’t seem to remember anything about our romance. The years must have gotten to me.” You mumble, eyes watering a bit as you wait for his reaction only for him to laugh out. 

“Doll, I can’t remember a damn thing myself. We must be too stressed.” 

“Then we need to make a deal to stop being so stressed. I waited too long for you not to remember.” You smile, gazing up at him as he gazes back down at you. 

“I don’t remember, but I know that I have waited far too long for you as well.”

And when he leans down to kiss you it feels like home. If only you could figure out why it was wrong. 

- 

The next morning you wake up wrapped in your husband's arms, only something has shifted. The first thing you notice is his arm, the metal humming under your hand as you trace a finger up until you get to the shirt sleeve. The next thing you notice is that the room has shifted ever so slightly. A 60s look now. 

And when you gaze out the window you see that a car is parked in the driveway, even though you were sure you and Bucky had walked home. 

“What is going on here…..?”

- 

You had met Bucky Barnes three times in your life. 

The first being as a child, stuck in your fathers lab the night the winter soldier had been sent to kill you all. And he had. You remember the taste of iron, the way your throat burned from screaming so much, slipping in the blood spilling from your father as the Soldat followed you easily. 

He completed his mission of course. But how was he supposed to know that the girl would come back to life after draining all the plants in the room? How was he supposed to know she would try to bring her dad back?

The next time you met him was right on the edge of Bucky and the soldat. Brought in to heal Fury, and Steve had thought that maybe you would be able to help heal his friend once it was confirmed that the soldat was his friend. 

But you had felt so guilty, in a moment of panic you had drained the energy from him and made him pass out. It had been years since you had lost control so blindly and as you gazed down at him, sleeping at your feet, you will yourself not to get sick. 

You were a monster. Your father had made a monster. 

And you had promised to keep your distance from him at that point on, not willing to accept the look of fear that would surely meet his eyes when he saw you next. Only he never did. 

The next time you saw him he was Bucky Barnes, not the winter soldier. And he was a broken man. 

“We were hoping you could help him.” Steve mumbles, a guilty look in his eyes. You were friends now, after Ultron and the mess of that war. He hated asking this of you, but Bucky needed help. 

Bucky refused to meet your eyes, caving in on himself a bit and flinching whenever someone came near. 

“I can try….” 

If only you had known it would all go wrong.

Next Part : Something [Out SOON]

[ultralightpoe]

Past Sorrows - Bucky Barnes

Authors Notes: Y'all I have a HUGE folder of works that I haven't published because I feel like they suck and I just sit in this never ending battle of rewriting and rewriting and.... Okay y'all get it. -Ultralightpoe

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: None> Maybe a bad word.

Description: Inspired by Meet The Robinsons

Main Masterlist - - Marvel Masterlist

Past Sorrows - - Next part SOON

[Thank You For The Gif @sniktya ]

Enjoy! [I HATE THIS BUT IT'S GOTTA ESCAPE MY DRAFTS Y'ALL]

“I've about had it with this same conversation over and over young man.” 

The words probably would have held a better punch if James Buchanan Barnes hadn’t heard them nearly every week since the school year had begun, they probably woulda stung a bit more if he had actually liked the person that was currently speaking those recurring words. But truth be told he was tired, and bored, of sitting in the wooden chair across from the principal of his school. He was tired of getting crammed into detention nearly everyday in punishment. 

Bucky Barnes was tired. 

It wasn’t even his fault, none of this was, not that any adult around him actually seemed to give a damn about his predicament. 

It had been a year since his father died, a year since his mother had forced herself to go back to work so that her and her children could afford food and clothes. A year since Bucky had picked up morning duty for his sisters in order for his Mother to make it to the job that fed them on time. The only problem was….. well his sisters ran on their own time. They acted as if the clock on the wall was non-existent when it came to their mornings. 

Rebecca loved to wait until the last minute for her homework, somehow managing to just get it done by the time he drags her to the door. And June Bug could never make up her mind on what to wear, anything he offered was taken as an insult and any help not given was an abandonment in her eyes. The oatmeal he made was always just a little burnt and the arguing was always just a little bitter. 

But it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. They were family and these were his baby sisters. They needed him, his man needed him. And their needs trump all. 

The school? They did not agree with this argument. 

Matter of fact they seemed to think they were the most important thing in this damned universe. 

“I already told ya’,” he snaps, trying not to show too much attitude, choosing to grip the sides of his chair instead. “My ma’s job puts us on a late start.” 

“James.” Principal Figs sighs, shaking his head in the slow condescending way that sets a flush of anger through Bucky’s skin. “I’ve tried talking to you about better options. The bus. A shared ride. Calling your mother about your attendance. We need to figure out, you cannot keep missing half your English class. You hear me boy?” 

Loud. And. Clear. 

But it’s not like Bucky could argue, what was he supposed to say that would ease this situation? The truth? 

“I can not come in early cause my Ma’ leaves 2 hours earlier than we wake up and my sisters get a later start in school.” Next thing you know the adults at the school begin to get suspicious and look into the family. Or as Garrett Figs liked to explain it, they want to see if your parents are fit to keep you. 

And Bucky refused for there to be pressure on his Ma, refused for anyone to look in at the picture they didn’t understand and judge their family. He refused the risk of someone tearing them apart, putting his sisters in one of those overcrowded foster homes that ran with diseases. Serving the kids broth soup every night just to make ends meet. 

It’s not like their family had done much better, no one had anything in this depression, but they had family and he would be damned if that was taken from him. 

“I’ll look into it.” He amended, his voice straining at the lie as his eyes seemed to burn while he forced himself to make eye contact, wanting nothing more than to look for the exit. Wanting nothing more than to just be free of this damn office. “After losing Pa we just have struggled to find a schedule that works. I’ll see if I can share Stevie’s ride. I promise.”

And with that simple lie he was released from this damn office. His shoes hitting the wooden floors beneath him with sharp thuds as he snatched up his school books, keeping them on his hip to maintain an unbothered strut as the bells above rang out sharply and bodies filled the hallways with a speed of desperation. 

It was always really easy to spot Steve Rogers in a crowd, like a flock of birds gathered around the chick. People tended to split in order to avoid damaging the smaller body. 

“Stevie!” He called out, sending an awkward half smile to Tracey Potts, whose cheeks were tinged with red as she tried to step up to Bucky, her plaid blue skirt swishing a bit. Something about Tracey Potts? She always looked her best, from the perfectly bouncy hair that reached her shoulders always paired with a perfectly tied bow. 

She was a real pretty dame. Only problem? Her older brother was a real scary guy. 

“I’m in just a bit of a rush Doll-” He chuckles lightly, swerving a bit to avoid the hand that reaches for him right as Steve snatches his shoulder in what Bucky was sure was meant to be an annoyed grip. 

“Buck. You missed half of class.” His pal scolds, moving to the side for him to follow and leave Potts behind while they walk to the exit. “Again.”

“It was important. Principal Figs was not to keen on me missing class this morning.” 

“So in being mad about you missing class he pulled you out of a class you actually need to pay attention to?” Steve raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “You wanna borrow my notes?” “This is why we were put together pal.” Bucky smiles, stopping his pace to allow Steve to pull the notes. “As my old man always says, Keep Moving Forward.” 

It isn’t until Steve gives him a look of devastation that he realizes his slip up, when his friends blue eyes cloud with a sad sort of gaze and his eyebrows pinch together as his mouth twitches into a frown. 

“Said…..” His voice is hoarse, which he quickly clears before standing a little straighter and swiping a hand over his gelled hair. “My old man always said.”

“Here you go, Buck.” Steve hands off the journal, buckling the book strap to keep everything together and placing his pencil above his ear. 

“Means a lot, Pal.” Bucky smiles, nodding. “I’ll try not to let Junie Bug stain these ones.”

He had felt so guilty about the last packet of notes Steve let him borrow, after they had been put through the ringer by Junie and the tomato juice left in front of her. After an overdramatic bit of yelling and fighting with his ma, and a nice slamming of his bedroom door he was left to try and fix the notes only to make em worse. He had felt guilty for losing his temper on Junie, for leaving the tomato sauce on the table and for yelling at his ma. He felt guilty about Steve’s notes and being late for school and…. 

Bucky was just so tired. 

“You know, I think the world of Junie and her art.” Steve laughs before he is roughly shoved, his chin meeting Bucky’s shoulder as they both do an awkward shuffle to catch themselves. Steve was of course the better person, mumbling out an apology while Bucky took the lead and stepped in front of his friend. 

“Watch where you’re going!” 

The group pays him no mind, charging ahead while Steve merely shakes his head. “You feelin alright Buck? You’ve been…. I’m just worried about ya pal.”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Was he okay?

“Do…. Stevie, you ever feel like….” The words die out, his throat tightening as he tries to form the question on his tongue. Maybe he is worried that the second the words come out then the entire world might fall apart around him? Maybe he just isn’t quite ready to admit it yet. “Do you ever feel like there is nothing worth fighting for? Just a never ending life of struggling to make ends meet with nothing to really show for it? Stuck.”

Steve had a habit of seeing too much and seeing nothing at all. He could take a look at you and see all your insecurities and everything you could be. And in the same hand he could also be staring down the barrel of a gun and not see doom in it. He was a fighter. 

And Bucky didn’t think he was. 

Because….. Bucky was just so damn tired. 

His friend struggles for a response, but the shame and dread had already claimed Bucky’s movements. “Nevermind pal. I just think I’m in desperate need for a nap.”

It’s rough to force a laugh out, slightly pathetic how much energy it takes, and yet when he pulls his hand up to check his watch, shock and panic is all he finds himself swimming in. “Is it really 3:30. Damn it all-”

He gives Steve one last smile before sprinting off, taking the streets of brooklyn as fast as he could to get to his sisters school. 

He would never make it on time, always late. Late to school, late to work, late to pick up his sisters. It seemed he’d never have enough time these days. 

All he could do was run, and hope Junie Bug didn’t get too impatient by the time he arrived. 

- 

Junie Bug HAD gotten a little impatient waiting for Bucky. He managed to make it at only 5 minutes late, but she was already glaring when he came running up, completely out of breath and red in the face. 

“Sorry Junie. Sorry Becca.” He panted out, hands on his knees. The apologies had fallen on empty ears, both sisters walking ahead to ignore him, just as they did the entire walk home. They ignored him while walking up the stairs to the apartment and they ignored him when they rushed to their shared bedroom and slammed the door in his face. 

It stung, he hated being outcasted by his best girls, and even though he hated when they forced him to play dolls he could hear them in their room giggling over it all and suddenly that’s all he wanted to do. 

But at the moment he would use their anger to complete some work, the best idea he could. So, with them giggling down the hall, he took to mopping the kitchen floor. Dusting the living room, making sure his room was picked up before doing his homework at the table. But the entire time he copied Steve’s notes all he could think of was just how…. Lost he was. 

He couldn’t seem to win anything. They couldn’t afford anything, he was less brother and more a half assed parent figure to his sisters, no dames in his future and Stevie’s heart risked his health. It felt like there was just this black cloud that had clung to his shoulders and was pushing him down. 

“Oh come on Buck.” He grumbles to himself, shaking his head and slapping at his cheek a bit. “Snap out of it.”

He was just being dramatic, that’s all. A bad day in a bad week. Once he got some rest it would all be better and ma would be home soon. 

Keep moving forward. 

The sharp trill of the phone went off, and he could hear his sisters door open down the hall, and once he picked up the handle of the phone and placed it to his ear he already knew just what he would hear. 

“Buck. Baby.” His mother greets, sounding so tired even through the phone. “I gotta stay late. You think you can feed the girls and get them to bed?”

A moment of silence passes as he fights off the disappointment, closing his eyes and leaning his head on the wall of the apartment. “No problem ma.”

The words rang empty, missing the usual tone of life he tended to carry. “I’m so sorry bubs. This is the last time, I swear it.”

She had said that every day this week, but he couldn’t blame her. They were all struggling, right?

“It’s no problem, ma.” He tries to sound happier again. “Just…. Keep moving forward.”

“Thank you Bubs.” She sighs, making a kissing sound before hanging up and leaving him to turn to his sisters, both watching them from their doorway. 

“Pasta?”

He would have laughed at the way they groaned simultaneously if he wasn’t so sick to his stomach. 

- 

“I just need you to be quiet.” Someone seethes, the sound waking Bucky up from a deep sleep, forcing him to blink quickly as he struggles to push the fog from his brain. Reaching a hand up to rub at his eyes, while he tries to pick up on what exactly is wrong. 

Nothing is out of place in his room, he can see everything by the light of the streetlamp outside the window, and the only thing out of normal was that he almost always shut the blinds before he hit the bed. But he had barely managed to make it to his room before he passed out sprawled across the sheets. Drool stained his pillow and he was still in his school clothes. 

But something was off. Really really off. 

“Shhhh!” The voice rang out again, and he must have woken up to the sound of Becca and June sneaking in for snacks past their bedtime, trying not to wake up Ma. Nothing but little trouble makes, and with a shake of his head she struggles to lift himself out of the bed, heading to catch them in their act before he stops short once more. “You’re gonna wake them. Can you stop?”

There was in fact a problem after all, because that was a male voice and Bucky only lived with females. Someone was in his home. 

The first thing he could think of was to grab the bat that sat in his closet, keeping a firm grip on it as he reached for the door handle, only to see that it was already twisting on its own. With his heart racing he managed to stumble back, nearly cursing himself out for the sound as the handle paused and he forced himself to hold his breath, shaking as he stared at it so hard his eyes began to water. 

A pause, the handle stuck in it’s half twisted motion, and all Bucky could do was worry about his sisters. Had his Ma made it home? What if something happened to her? What if these guys already stopped in his sisters rooms? What if what if what if…..

But the moment of anxiety and stillness passed, and whoever was on the otherside must have deemed him silent enough to continue. Turning the handle and pushing the door open slowly as if afraid it might creak. Bucky knew it would creak once it passed the 8th floor board past where his rug ended, and he knew if he stayed behind the door he would be able to catch whoever it was by surprise. 

And within moments the intruder took a step into his room, casting a look in the direction of the bed before going still once he saw that it was empty, only there was no time for reaction before Bucky was upon him. He swung the bat, enjoying the sound of the thud and the cry of pain that came from the intruder as they stepped back holding their side and managing to just barely dodge the second swing. By the third Bucky was beginning to lose balance, and the intruder had managed to catch theirs, snatching the bat and holding it tight and twisting until Bucky had tripped over his own rug and hit the ground. 

“Oh, I’m in so much trouble.” The voice rang out, and Bucky couldn’t fight off the anger anymore. 

“Hell yeah you are!” He yells, kicking at the figure's leg to trip them before launching to sprawl over them and try and get the advantage. It was a struggle, once Bucky got a hit in so did the intruder. “Who the hell are you-”

A fist comes up to meet his face, instant pain spreading through as Bucky throws his weight back and tastes the iron. 

“You’re in danger- You have to listen to me here!”

“You came into the wrong house pal-” He spits out some of the blood, launching back into the figure with all his weight until they hit the bookshelf on the wall, managing to break it all. 

“Damn da- dude.” The figure coughs, kicking him back and pulling out something Bucky didn’t recognize. “I don’t want to have to do this.”

“Oh buck up.” And he swings his fist, hitting them square on before rushing to grab his bat once more. 

“It’s flesh….. Your hand is flesh….”

An odd thing to say, and Bucky would have had a great comeback if he wasn’t thrown back by a crazy explosion, knocking him into his bedroom wall and effectively hitting his head. And he must have hit it hard…. Because there was a green creature staring down at him with a terrifying smile. Sharp teeth and drool hanging down from his jaw as his taloned hands reach to grab something at his hip. Pulling out a jagged glowing blade. 

“Doom denies this line.” 

“WATCH OUT!” And just as the blade was pushed down and about to pierce into Bucky’s chest the figure managed to stop it, hand shooting out until blood was dripping down onto Bucky’s face and a cry of pain shot out in the dark of the room. But another blast of light and it all went wrong. 

- 

“You’re in so much trouble when they find out.” A voice bites out as Bucky is once again forced awake, this time nearly being blinded by a light as he covers his eyes with a hand. “Oh great. He’s awake.”

“I can see that Franklin. Thank you.” The voice from earlier quips, and Bucky manages to adjust to the light in time to see a young boy around his age slap the shoulder of the one next to him. “Okay, don’t panic.”

Panic. 

“Where the hell am I?!” Bucky cries out, jumping up from where he had been laid out and pushing to run for an exit, only to realize that there were no exits. He was fully trapped in…. What the hell was this place? 

“Okay da-dude. Bucky, James, sir.” The figure from earlier rushes out, moving to step in front of Bucky, which just makes him step back and trip over a chair in order to avoid him. His back hits the floor and before he knows it a black haired boy is staring down at him. 

“I don’t know about you but he doesn’t seem to be enjoying this.”

“Franklin, back off.”

“Oh come on.” The kid huffs, reaching a hand out and extending it down. “Franklin Richards. And I’m assuming you are Bucky Barnes.”

“Assuming?”

“More than that. We were sent out to… This is my companion Beck Ba-”

“Barton! Beck Barton.”

“He thinks he’s cool.”

“Kiss my ass Franklin.”

“Ohhhhh I’m telling your dad you just cussed.”

“Yeah and I’ll tell your mom you stole the ship!”

“Then I’ll tell your mom you hacked into a Latverian tech-”

“And then I’ll tell her you broke the memory scanner.”

“YOU BROKE THE MEMORY SCANNER!”

“NO YOU DID!”

“LIAR! I WENT TO USE IT AND YOU SLAPPED IT OUT OF MY HAND!” Franklin yells, his hands moving with the yell. “I told you Beck, he needs his memory wiped or going back and saving him won’t matter.”

“He… he just almost died.” 

“And you think your mom and dad are going to be happy about you nearly getting gutted over this.” 

“What do you propose now? We don’t have your dads tech and it’s not like we can bring him back to…..”

“We have to, we can’t leave back in his time without wiping what happe-”

“Can someone tell me…” Bucky tries to intervene. 

“Not now.” Franklin snaps while Beck merely turns to him slowly, a guilty look on his face. It’s then that Bucky sees his left arm is bandaged and the shirt he currently wore, far too tight and must be an undershirt for a button up, was covered in blood. 

“Well…. We are from another time…..” He begins, blinking slowly. “A futuristic time. And we got… intel- which means intelligence-”

“I know what it means.”

“On a man we call Dr. Doom sending out some agents- which are people that work under him-”

“I gathered that, thank you.”

“Anyways, he sent them out to ruin the timeline of our earth. You were one of the targets.”

“Why was I a target? What do you mean our earth?”

“He was aiming to split the timeline before the war hit.” 

“Let me go home. My ma…. My sisters and stevie.” Bucky pleads, trying to stand up, slapping Franklin's still outstretched hand away and trying to find an exit again. But it was terrifying, there were screens lighting up just about every surface. Cushions that not even the president could afford on the chairs, and the finest metal holding it all together. And the one opening there was held…. Space beyond it. Nothing but space. 

And it took all of two seconds for Bucky to get sick, leaning over to puke onto the floor as both boys stepped back. 

“Okay let’s try this again.” Franklin groaned. “Here is the thing, you were targeted by Doom. He wanted to break a timeline, you don’t need to know why. All you need to know is that Beck and I saved you and our time machine is…. A bit on the fritz so we have to wait before we can travel home to get you all fixed up and this can be right as rain. You understand?”

“What’s home?” 

“Home is…. 90 years…. Give or take.”

“2029.” Beck answers, shaking his head. 

“I’m sorry?” Bucky was going to be sick again, he just knew it. “It’s 1938.”

“Oh….. I’m in so much trouble.” Beck sighs, closing his eyes before opening them to glare. And it’s an odd thought that Bucky gets when he stares at the boy in front of him, who should be around his age, that he was just a child. Like his little sisters. He could see the fear and the guilt eating away at every expression. Like he knew him already. 

“Alright Beck Barton….. What do you need from me?”

- 

“I just need you to know that when our parents kill us that I am gonna blame you the entire time.” Franklin seethes as he turns to look over his shoulder to where Bucky Barnes was currently staring out the window in pure shock. “Your dad more so. Oh your dad is going to be so pissed.”

“The plan is neither of our parents finds out.” Beck groans. “They can not see him, you understand?” 

“Got it. Operation keep Bucky Barnes hidden from the Barnes Family is underway.” 

-

[Oh I am already regretting this but like I said it needed to be free from the drafts. My draft folder is way too packed of stuff I keep rewriting. Someone save me pls. -Ultralightpoe]

[ultralightpoe]

Judge The Cover - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Me????? Writing something and then disappearing for months at a time??? WhaAaaTtt? Never. This is the second part to Buy The Book, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3272

Warnings: Concussions?

Requests: OPEN (Working on them. I swear)

Main Masterlist

Previous Chapter : Buy The Book

Next Chapter: ~~

[Thank you for the gif @starscreamloki ]

Enjoy!

The first year you had been published had been a bit of….. Well a mind fuck. There was no other way of describing it. 

Your agent had told you not to expect much from it. “These things take time. Try not to get ahead of yourself. It doesn’t mean you failed.” And you had taken those words to heart, you had kept your part time job in the mornings so that you would still have income as you continued to write. But there was no time taken. 

Within a week of being publicly released it seemed to launch quicker than anyone thought it would. It took less than 2 weeks of it being out before you realized that the stares you were getting at the supermarket were from readers, all excited to meet you. Face after face, book after book being signed. It was…. Not what you had pictured. 

It’s safe to say that you had always thought you would publish something more serious when the time came, nothing with a 6 pack on the cover…..and yet….. The Frost Soldier had his 6 pack on every cover and it was taking the world by storm. 

But it was the dreams that came with your writing that drove you nuts. So realistic that you would have to check every window 6 times before going to bed and adding three new deadbolts to your door like you were waiting for him to come get you. 

Because for some delusional reason there were moments you swore that he was real…. And there was a part of you that was terrified that you were feeding into the delusions of the man with the sign and it wouldn’t be long until you became the man with the sign…. Or a version of him anyways. The vivid image of you covered in grime and filth as you warned the world of the dangers ahead, beer bottles from your long night littering the sidewalk. 

But the realistic dreams fed into the books, and you kept publishing. Every mean glare was written to an ounce of perfection as you recalled his stormy eyes. Every gentle touch was portrayed with a thunderous heartbeat. And people ate it up. 

You regret that.

You regret everything.

But anyone who is tied up in the back of a warehouse would tend to regret every single thing they had done so it wasn’t like you were defying cliches here. In fact you were going through the motions of every single stage of grief. 

Stage One. Denial. 

You had taken to blinking slowly at the figure before you, trying to wake yourself up from the dream you were having so that you could rush to your computer and type it all out. When he didn’t vanish with the slow blinks you simply sped them up, resisting the urge to tap your feet together like you were Dorothy in the wizard of oz.

“You’re not real.” You mutter, throat raw and head pounding as he tilts his head with a raised eyebrow. As if he were judging you. Maybe he was, for how bad your voice sounded or maybe because your first words spoken were challenging his existence. “I must have inhaled drugs. I’m hallucinating. Which is the cause of the headache.”

“I think the cause of the headache would be the concrete you slammed into.” He huffs, crossing his arms over each other and letting the metal one glint in the light above both of you, eyebrows pulling in for a look you can’t recognize. “With the way your skull snapped against the concrete I was worried you wouldn’t even be able to remember your own name.”

There is a spark that immediately lights up in your mind at his words, hearing them move you can practically imagine the way the scene would play out. You’d have him in a set up just like this one with his leading la-

“You’re already thinking of quoting me for that next book, huh?”

That excited spark dies into a bitter taste of wanting to punch him, and your hands pull a bit until they catch at the plastic zip tie he had used to keep you there, biting into the skin as you sneer. “You’re not real.”

A gasp draws from his lips, he stands straight up and begins frantically patting himself down. “I’m not?! Oh my god. I must be a ghost.”

“You’re mocking me.” You laugh, it sounds bitter and cold. “My own dream is mocking me.”

“Am I what you dream about?” The smirk that slides itself across his face makes you blush and sneer in the same go, wanting nothing more than to turn away but not willing to break eye contact before him. When you don’t answer he places a mocking look of hurt on his face, eyebrows pinching together and his eyes full of light. “I’m not?”

“Nope.”

“No?” He chuckles, walking closer a bit and crouching down so that he could look up at you rather than the reverse, the blue of his eyes practically making you shiver. His smirk grows as if he can sense the change in you, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead you get a simple, “Do you know your name, Doll?”

The nickname sent a stutter through your heart and almost caused your skin to heat up, the anger that began to process managed to speed up that heat until your entire body was flush with it and you bite out “Do you?”

“Do I know your name or do I know my name?”

“You pick.”

“Well… thanks to you oddly enough, I managed to find my name. Which means I know yours.” He smiles, all toothy and proud of himself. “Yes to both.”

“You’re not real.”

“You keep saying that, it’s getting tedious at this point.” 

“Fuck. You.”

“I’m sure you would.” His smile widens as he stands back up and strides to the table in the corner where an array of weapons currently sat. “And thanks to you I’m sure half the world would too.” 

“No-”

“No? A very quick no at that?” He turns, pretending to look shocked. “Oh my, you might not remember who you are. You don’t remember the novels you’ve written? With my 8 pack on the covers?”

“It was a 6 pack and they weren’t yours.”

“An imitation of mine and they were definitely 8 packs.” He argues back, tilting his head as your mouth opens for the rebuttal until he shrugs and speaks before you get the chance. “Doesn’t matter though, because I’m not real….. Right?”

A slow blink, you can’t seem to look anywhere else as he awaits his answer. 

Stage Two. Anger. 

“I’M SICK OF THIS!” You yell out, pulling at the ties on your wrists frantically as you scramble to get up. “LET ME OUT!”

“And now she’s mad.”

“YOU DUMB FUCKER! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL TEAR YOU APART WITH MY BARE TEETH-” Yelling doesn’t seem to be convincing him to let you out, but it feels great, like some of the tension in your body is releasing. “You stupid fuck.”

“Brilliant. Any more words you got for me?”

“Shithead.”

“Coming from the author that managed to find 13 different variations for my pulsating member I expected…..a little more.”

“People are going to be looking for me.”

“You’ve written so many books about me and you think I haven’t already thought of that?” He huffs, looking almost offended as he easily picks up one of the knives on the table, twirling it through his fingers. “Here’s the thing, doll-”

“I’ll break your fucking nose.” You sneer out, the threat empty but the scorn in the tone enough to make him nod slowly. 

“I believe that you think you can. And I’m proud of you.”

“Oh you’re such a-”

“But I have a slight problem. You see I didn’t want to do this either…. But your novels have become a thorn in my side.” He pauses then, waiting for you to argue once more, when you don’t he clears his throat and continues. “You see for some reason you have been writing about me….. And your accuracy has hit every nerve of mine that I didn’t even know I had.”

“Including the 6 pack?” You snipe, the thumping in your head fighting off any embarrassment you might have felt, and the annoyed look he gives you as he narrows his eyes has you fighting off a laugh. 

“I just need to know where you are getting your information from.”

“My information?” He nods. 

“On you?” Another nod. 

“You think I’m being fed information on you?”

“How else would you know my every move and all the details of my missions?” You have no clue how to answer any of this. Are you supposed to admit that you have been dreaming of this guy for years? That you see him every night and that’s why you managed to write his every move? Would he even believe you?

“I’m waiting.”

“I have no answer. I haven’t been fed information.” It should be a given, and you were pretty sure you were having a stroke at this entire interaction. “I didn’t know you existed at all. Jameson Boone is a figment of my imagination built off a poster of-”

His eyes spark a bit when you stop short, memory flashing to Redmayne with his detailed drawing as he scared people walking to their classes. Campus Crazy, that was what people had always called him, and yet he had managed to get nearly every detail of Jameson's face down. Not the eyes though. Those were far more striking than anyone could have drawn. 

“Poster of? I’m waiting here Edgar Allen Poe.”

“There was a poster, back in college. This guy claimed that his family had been killed by this random person- well you- and he was warning us. Government assassin or something. He called you-”

“The Frost Warrior?” 

“No. Jackass.” You snap, narrowing your eyes. “Copyright and all that.”

“Oh?”

“It was….” God your head was pounding, were the lights really that bright? You close your eyes for a second, trying to relieve the pressure from the pounding in your head, cringing a bit. 

“You can’t sleep.”

“I’m not trying to sleep.” 

“You are.” 

“You’re not real.”

“And we are right back to where we started. Sadly.”

Stage Three. Bargaining. 

Your head was pounding, your back and wrists beginning to hurt from the chair you were in. You had no clue where your shoes were and honestly you had hated the outfit picked out for you this morning. 

Honestly? You were surprised you had fought the waterworks as long as you did. 

“Please.” You start, a couple droplets falling from your eyes as your face screws up before you finally give in to the onslaught of tears, tasting the salt of them as your body begins to rock with the sobs. “Please please please.”

“Okay, just take a breath-”

“I’ll do anything. Just please let me go.” You beg, opening your eyes to let the tears fall as he watches you. A mix of disgust and unease written on his face. “Please. Don’t do this.”

“I don’t want to do this.” He murmurs out, and the disgust seems to heighten as his eyes flick to where your wrists are bound to the chair by zip ties, a cringe making it’s way to his face. “But I need to know.”

“I’ll give you anything you want. Please.”

“I just need to know who your informant is, doll.” He sighs out, squatting down so that he is looking up at you and you can no longer avoid his eyes, and then he surprises you by reaching a flesh hand up to wipe his thumb across your cheek. “Is your head hurting?”

You were a wimp to nod your head as more tears fell, so pathetic and yet the second the words passed his lips you found yourself doing just that. Letting his hand rub at your cheek while you try to close your eyes once more. 

“Tell ya what…” He starts, making you open your eyes once more. “You tell me what ya know, and I’ll let you go.”

“I don’t have an informant.” You cry out. “Before today this was all fake. I wrote books inspired by the Campus Crazy!”

“The campus crazy?”

“He had a sign, he drew himself of this Winter Soldier character and I was struggling to write this stupid project for school and-” And before you know it the room spins, the lights hurting your head far too much as you lean forward. 

The man before you seems to know what’s about to happen as he stands to take a step back right before you empty your stomach on the floor before you. 

Stage Four. Depression. 

Fine. 

You will die here. It would be fine. 

Either the frost warrior - no, the winter soldier- would kill you for what you apparently knew, or the embarrassment would take you. 

“Sorry.” You blurt, still crying, then in a weird whiplash of anger you follow it with a “Fuck you. Let me go.” 

“Oh, she’s feeling it now.” 

“I’ll bite your face off.” Truth was you were doing your best to fight another wave of nausea. And the small childish part of you wanted to aim for his boots this time. “I don’t know anything. You are not real.”

“Then we have a slight problem, considering I am very much real and you have the accuracy of a gypsy fortune teller in your writing.”  

“You’re not supposed to say gypsy anymore. That’s not cool.”

“Noted. No more gypsy jokes.” He nods, toeing at the concrete beneath him. “Y’know, Stevie once got us tickets to this circus in town and when we went I coughed up 2 dollars for a fortune teller.”

“2 whole american dollars?”

“I’m ignoring that.” He huffs. “But you know what she told me?”

“That you would one day kidnap a poor helpless yet beautiful author who really wants some headache medicine and a donut.” 

“She said I would live a long happy life.” 

It's quiet for a moment while you blink at him before nodding slowly. “If…. If what I wrote in those books to be true-”

His head tilts, like a cat watching a mouse play before striking. 

“Then you would be…. 104 years old…..”

“103.”

“Well….. At least she got the long part right.”

He laughs a bit, his eyes sparking with something as you fight off a giggle yourself before closing your eyes to fight off another wave of nausea. 

“Alright. Alright. We have to figure out something here.” 

Stage Five. Acceptance.

“We have an issue here.” He huffs out. “Because you claim to not have an informant, but you have managed to out every move and tantrum I have pulled. And I can’t have that if I’m going to continue my task here.”

“I won’t write.” You gasp out, eyes widening at your own words before nodding. “I swear it. I won’t write again. I was already planning on not writing. I won’t.”

He narrows his eyes, watching you. 

“I’ll never write. I won’t.” 

“That seems like an empty promise.”

“It isn’t.” You shake your head. “I’ll farm in Alaska.” 

“Ignoring you being so willing to give up your career, it wasn’t your writing I was worried about.” He huffs. “I mean that was gonna be easy. I’d have just taken part of your ear and promised to come back for the rest if you ever wrote anything else about me.”

“Dick.”

“The problem is, other people want you-”

“Not to brag but I get a lot of swipes on tinder.”

“-For information.” 

“That too…. I guess.”

“I was hoping with all the things you’d written that you would have some sort of survival instinct. But instead I found a death prone squirrel.” 

“Oh bite me you two pack wannabe.”

“8 pack.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” You sigh. “You’re gonna kill me? You were planning on killing me this entire time, right? But you wanted to find out if you had a mole first!”

“Wasn’t my plan.”

“You are such a bitch. Just do it. Just kill me bro.”

“Bro?”

“And right after you can go fuck yourself.”

“I could just get one of your many fans to do that instead.” He smiles. “You really talk me up.”

“Just. Kill. Me.” You seethe.

“I don’t want to do that. If you shut your trap for a second and let me explain-”

“Blah blah blah blah-”

“Do you know how many government officials are hunting me? How many assassins will be coming for you for information?”

“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”

“You do!” He snaps. “You do. And I don’t know what to do with you now. I have things I need to do and you’re a risk.”

“So…..”

“What do we do here?”

Silence fills the room for a moment before a bitter laugh slips past your lips as you blink at him. “You’re asking me?”

“You’re the one with all the answers. What would the frost soldier and his little flame do?”

“Team up to take everyone down.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Are you saying you want to team up with me?”

“No.” 

“No?” 

“No.”

“No?”

“God my head hurts.” You whine, turning away from him. “I want to sleep.”

“Okay. What did you have the winter- Sorry- Frost Warrior. What was he gonna do next?”

“I….. I wasn’t gonna write anything next.”  You admit. “Everything I wrote didn’t work, and I couldn’t fall asleep without seeing… you and I was so tired of facing you in my dreams. Because you weren’t real.”

“You have no clue where I was going next.” And when the word no nearly passes your lips you stop because you knew it was a lie. 

You knew his every move, and you hadn’t even known he was real. 

“Alaska.” You sigh. “Jameson Boone was heading to Alaska to find a witness with a lead.”

“And you wanted to go be a farmer…. Let’s make it happen, yeah?”

- 

The email is sent from a library computer that took so long to load you might as well have just sent a letter. 

Santana. 

Sorry for being MIA, I was thinking about our last conversation and the books. I have a lead on an idea. Have been following it, but I am sure you are going to love the next Frost Warrior novel. This lead makes him feel like he’s come to life. 

Lost my phone. Luv u.

And even lying to Santana in the email felt wrong, because you knew you would never write another frost warrior novel, BUT you were following a lead in Alaska, even if it was slightly against your will. “If she doesn’t read how fake that sounds she’s stupid.” Jameson Boone huffs, taking the seat next to you with a hat on his head while he glares at the computer. “What is it that made you hate the books you wrote?”

“You?” You smile, knowing he would take the bait and glare. He does, which pleases you to no end when his eyes narrow and he glares. 

“Is this how it’s gonna be this entire trip?” 

“Probably.” 

And you preen at the way his glare deepens before he rattles headache medicine in the bottle before setting it in front of you with a bottle of water and a white container of food from the breakfast restaurant across the library. 

“Eat up. We have a bus to Alaska waiting for us, Tolkien.”

-

TAGLIST:::

@vicmc624 @scott-loki-barnes @fanfictionreaderfan @ada728 @queergalpal97 @knowingnothingnoel @maxine-marigold

[ultralightpoe]

Dumb And Poetic - Art Donaldson

Authors Note: Ayyyyy, posting this draft to get it out of my way.

Warnings: Terrible Written? Yes

Word Count: 2341

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist

[Thank You For The Gif @roranicuspond ]

Enjoy!

“You're so dumb and poetic

It's just what I fall for, I like the aesthetic

Every self-help book, you've already read it

Cherry-pick lines like they're words you invented”

-

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.” Your roommate mumbles one morning while she gets ready for school, looking up from the awkward dorm mirror her parents had given her once she complained how much she hated the shared bathrooms. Ever since it had been lit up every morning at god knows what hour. 

This morning it had been lit up at 6 am by the looks of your alarm clock, and you were just now getting home after a long night of partying. 

“If you are about to complain about the leftover spaghetti that stunk up the dorm last week-” You start, staggering to your bed to kick off your heels and jump up into the cozy sheets. 

“We all warned you about him.” The second the words leave her mouth your spine tightens, anger filling you as you whirl to glare at her. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoff, trying to play nonchalant as your roommate gives you a knowing look which was a little funny considering the fact that she only has one eyebrow. 

“He stopped by the dorm today, he who shall not be named. Wanted to know why you haven’t been answering his calls.” She explains, turning back to work on her makeup while she talks. “And then I realized that he was the reason you had been moping all week and why you decided to waste your time tonight… or well last night.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining when you were inviting your boyfriend over to spend the night.”

“I’m not complaining.” She laughs, giving you a look through the mirror. “I’m just checking to make sure you are okay.”

“I’m okay.” You lie. “I just realized what a fake fucking phony Art Donaldson is.”

“And why is that?”

“Ugh he’s the worst.” And suddenly you find yourself sitting up, almost excited to finally be able to get to rant about this. “He’s Mr. Perfect, right? He’s been in all those stupid photoshoots, and interviews. He reads those self help books and talks about ways he wants to make his life better?”

“Uh huh….” Your roommate starts, turning to you with excitement on her features, ready for you to shittalk the guy she’s been warning you about for months. 

“But you know what I caught Mr. Perfect doing?” 

“Oh please make this juicy gossip that I can go to my grave happily with.” 

“I caught him jerking it to Ms. Perfect Fucking Duncans photoshoot.” The gasp that tears from her is sharp, she stands so quickly that her desk chair flips to the floor as she clamors to climb onto your bed with you. 

“You can’t be serious!” 

“I’m being so serious.” You nod back, sliding to give her some room. “He had invited me over for a dinner date that night, right?”

“Yeah, I remember when you were telling me. It was one of the first he had asked you to since you guys came up with that silly friends with benefits situation.” 

“Yup. Well I got dressed up and went to meet him at the restaurant.” You explain. “And I waited. And waited. And waited.”

“You’re kidding.” 

“Nope. 40 minutes and now I’m feeling like a fool so I march my sorry ass over to his dorm and the asshat couldn’t even bother to lock the door.” You snipe and she gasps even louder than the first time. 

“God I HATE her!” She groans.

“Me too!” You groan back before shaking your head. “But I actually don’t because she’s-”

“Tashi Duncan. Girl I get it.” 

“Well anyways, Mr. Asshat can stay far away from me.” 

“I have been WAITING FOR THIS DAY!” She cheers and kisses your cheek before hopping off the bed and grabbing her bag. “Celebratory cheap dinner tonight! You and me!”

With that she leaves the room, allowing you to sit in silence for a moment before leaning over to open your nightstand drawer and pull out the nike shoe box you had shoved in there. 

The lid had stickers and nail polish all over it that you had decorated since the start of the friends with benefits situation you had agreed to with Art. 

Inside held a framed photo of the two of you that you had taken on one of the best evenings with him, when you both snuck onto the tennis court for him to teach you a midnight game of his sport. 

And something pinches in your chest as you see the smile you once had before you slam the cover back down and shove it back in the drawer, taking a peak at the phone you had locked up for the past few days. 

‘20 Missed Calls From Art’

The phone gets locked back into the drawer, slammed shut before you turn to close your eyes after a long night. 

-

“Gold star for highbrow manipulation

And "love everyone" is your favorite quotation

Try to come off like you're soft and well-spoken

Jack off to lyrics by Leonard Cohen”

-

It’s ironic the way he could so easily smile for a camera, how easily he could talk to people and make it look like he was straight from a Captain America comic. Watching him surrounded by all his fans could make you vomit. 

You ponder what would happen if you outed his little secret, if you told the sponsor agent that Art Donaldson had been strung up on his best friends girlfriend, so strung up that he would rub one out to her stupid magazine shoot of her playing tennis. You could imagine his face as they all laughed at him. 

Maybe then he would feel the same embarrassment you felt when you realized that he had just been using you. 

Honestly if you didn’t have to walk by the sports campus to get to the dorms you’d probably never have to see him, but unless you wanted to sleep on a bench outside of your lit class you needed to go home. And that meant passing by Arts' never ending parade of niceties and fakeness.

As if he could feel your presence he looks up from the reporter he had just been talking to and spots where you stood at the top of the stairs. For a second you are trapped by his classic red shirt and backwards cap, but then that image shatters when you see Tashi warming up on the second court and you remember your anger. 

The second you move to walk away you hear him yell your name, yelling for you to wait so you risk a look back to see him hopping over the net on the court with ease before dashing for the gate.  You speed up your walk as he takes the stares two at a time just to reach you. 

“Wait, please just-” He starts, moving to walk in front of you with his hands in front of you to try and get you to stop, like he was easing a wounded deer. “Can you just give me a minute here?”

“Just a minute? You got plans in your dorm later or something?” You scoff, moving to walk past him but he slides to stay in front of you. 

“What’s going on here? I’ve called and called, your roommate always answers your door saying you’re out. Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Oh nothing really.” You start, watching his face relax with a little relief. “I just figured out that you were hopelessly in love with Tashi Duncan.”

And just like that his look of relief falls into one of pure shock.  

-

“Don't think you understand

Just 'cause you talk like one doesn't make you a man”

-

You take his surprise as an escape, shoving past him to keep walking as he struggles to put together a full sentence, it doesn’t take him long before he manages to catch up. His hand grabs at the arm of your backpack as he lets out a small ‘Wait’ before you whirl on him with a sneer. 

“I feel so stupid. Don’t you realize that?”

“Why would you feel stupid?”

“Because all I could think when you offered up that stupid friends with benefits thing was ‘The guy I like is paying attention to me’ and ‘I can make this work because at least he’s paying attention to me’. I thought it would be so easy.” You rant, stepping into his bubble which makes him step back. “And after MONTHS of his stupid rules he invited me out on a date and I thought I had a chance. Only to get stood up and find him-”

“Oh my god.” He mumbles, hand coming up to cover his eyes as he finally realizes what had happened. “Oh my god.”

“Jesus, I had this image of you in my head as some cool guy. A man, really.” You snap. “But you’re just a lying boy.”

And even after that entire rant you still feel like a fool when you walk away.

-

“You're so sad there's no communication

But, baby, you put us in this situation

You're running so fast from the hearts that you're breakin'

Save all your breath for your floor meditation”

-

It’s the knock on the door at 2 pm that you know the fight is coming. 

It was the regular time that you and Art had decided on, between his practice and class schedule mixed with your own hectic schedule. So when you walk to the door to swing it open you’re not at all shocked to see him standing there, what you are surprised about is the puppy dog look of relief that crosses his face when you do answer it. 

“Please don’t slam the door in my face.” He starts, folding his hands together in a begging motion as you roll your eyes, opening the door a little wider so you can turn yout back to him and go sit at your desk once more. 

“Oh don’t be so freaking dramatic.” You snap out, opening your textbook so you can start doing the homework due in class rather than look at his fake mopey face. 

“I just feel like there is no communication here.” He starts, flinching a little when you whirl to sneer at him. “I just think that you haven’t given me any room to defend myself here. Okay?”

“Defend yourself?” You ask, blinking at him as you process what he just said. “Defend yourself?! You stood me up and then-”

“I know what I did! Okay I am aware, it’s not my best and shining moment but in my defense you went completely awol on me!”

“You’re going to blame this ON ME?! Are you kidding me?!” 

“No, that’s not what I am saying! You’re twisting my words! You can’t do that!”

“YOU ARE BEING RIDICULOUS! DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?!”

“I CAME HERE TO FIX THE COMMUNICATION BUT YOU OBVIOUSLY DON’T WANT TO FIX THIS!” He yells back, throwing his hands up in a ‘I give up’ gesture before storming to the door and slamming it on his way out. 

“FINE!” You yell back, kicking the nightstand before yelping from the pain of it. 

-

“You're so empathetic, you'd make a great wife

And I promise the mushrooms aren't changing your life

Well, you crashed the car and abandoned the wreckage

Fuck with my head like it's some kind of fetish”

-

“Don’t do this.” You snap, slamming the college newspaper on the table in front of him as he sets down his pencil he had been using for his work with a heavy sigh as if he was just waiting for this reaction. “This pity parade to make me look bad-”

“That wasn’t my intention,” He starts, moving to stand up. “Let me just explain.”

“This is completely ridiculous, you realize that right? You barely pay me any attention besides our agreed meet up for months, and all that time you were pining after your best-”

“SHHHH!” He grunts out, slapping his hand over your mouth as he looks around the room and that’s when you realize that sitting four tables down was the very same couple you were about to speak on. “Please-”

You roll your eyes, slapping his hand away to drag him out of the study hall. 

-

“Don't think you understand

Just 'cause you act like one doesn't make you a man

Don't think you understand

Just 'cause you leave like one doesn't make you a man”

-

“You obviously don’t understand” You start as soon as you exit the building, making him follow behind you as you talk. “Figuring out that you had been being used for months hurts. And I’ve been unfair because I haven’t thought about your situation with Tashi, that must suck. But I can’t keep getting used to make someone jealous.”

“That isn’t what it all was.” 

“And I think it’s better that we both walk away.”

“No.” He snaps out making you turn to look at him in shock. “No, because it might have started that way but that’s not what the entire thing was. And if I have to prove it to you then I will.”

“Art-”

“And what you caught is not only embarrassing for me but it was inevitable since I have been in love with her for awhile now. But I can’t lie when I say that I’ve been falling for you.”

“Funny way of showing it.” You mock, even though your skin was hot with the blush. 

“I know. But I’m learning. And I’ll work on it.”

You watch him for a moment, shaking your head before turning it to a nod slowly. 

“We’ll see about that.”

“I always love a good challenge,” He smiles, nodding his head. “Match, set, go.”

And you can’t help but smile as you roll your eyes, turning to walk away from the dumb and poetic hero.

[Thank You For The Gif @gifsbyharley ]

[ultralightpoe]

Buy The Book - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: I got inspired by that movie, idk what to say

Warnings: Kidnapped

Word Count: 2393

Requests:OPEN

[Thank you for the gif @bill-weasley ]

Enjoy!

Something was off about the day and no one believed you. 

Maybe it was the morose hotel room your agent had put you in for the week, or maybe it was just the gray foggy weather. Either way out you felt like something was wrong, you felt like you were being watched. 

“Honey, I needed you ready like 30 minutes ago.” Your agent, Santana, stresses the second she enters the hotel room with her own key copy. She attacks you quickly, pulling you from the bed and pulling you to where you had laid out your shoes the night before. “This is ridiculous and you know it.”

“I just have a bad feeling.” You mumble, letting her slip the heels on you as if you were a child. She pats your calf solemnly before standing to fix your hair and check your makeup one more time. 

“I know, you’ve told me all of this before. . You feel as though you are being watched, Michael Jackson style. You don’t feel good. You forgot to eat breakfast. You forgot to wash your laptop.” She rants, snatching both your ids for the event before grabbing both your bags and leading you out of the room. 

You turn at the least second, needing to see the door shut for your own sanity before you allow her to lead the way. 

“I think you are just stressed. You have always hated large crowds and you hate talking in front of people but this is a necessity. You have a terrific book out and you need to own it.” Terrific is definitely not how you would describe the book. Not in the slightest. But Santana had always admired your books far too much. 

It had started years ago, 8 books exactly, and you had been up on an all nighter the day the original project came to mind. 

You had been taking a publishing class and among 24 other aspiring authors you were sure the dream wasn’t worth it anymore. Especially after you had all received the project for the next month, write your own novel. 

There were hundreds of ideas that came to mind for you, heroes and villains alike, and you were sure that no matter what genre you picked from the suspense bucket your professor carried around you would have it down. Then you unrolled it you saw in the neatest handwriting you had ever seen….ROMANCE. 

And you knew you were screwed. 

Up all night, page after page of ideas you can do, all of which you hated. You hated the genre, the least romantic person alive and of course fate would have you be the one to choose the subject. You had always wanted to do fantasy, with epic battles or sci fi. 

Anything but romance. 

You were just about to give up, hyping yourself up to march to your professors class and demand a new one, but then on the way out of the library in an attempt to hide from the sun like a forgotten demon you ended up running into the campus crazy. 

Redmayne, an old man that swears his family was murdered one night by a man with a metal arm, that he had stolen something from his family. “THE WINTER SOLDIER! HE’S COMING FOR US ALL!”

And he had sketched the face onto the sign he carried around. 

You remember stopping short, nearly stumbling from the sudden stop as your bag swung around and you took in the sketch. You were a terrible person to say that the sketch was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. 

Just a black and white coal sketch and your heart was beating through your chest. 

“Sir,” You called, already feeling like a fool. “I have 40 dollars in my pocket and I’ll give it all to you for that sign.”

And thus your new world was created. 

‘The Frost Warrior’ was born, weeks of pouring over your laptop as you created the story of a man named Jameson Boone, a man who once fought for his country and now served as a brainwashed assassin. And no one could forget the leading lady, the spy that met him on a mission and have continued to work together since, with tension and heat keeping them close. 

Your teacher had loved it so much she recommended it, and you received an agent. And the series became real. 

Soon enough the ‘Frost Warrior’ and his true love were being snatched from every bookshelf as people followed along with their journey. 

“I think it was the last book.” You mumble, watching the elevator doors close you both in as she whips her head to glare. 

“What? What do you mean?” She snaps out. “Jameson just got freed from their captors!” 

“So? Now what will he do?” You laugh bitterly, pulling at the awkward outfit you were wearing. “The Frost Soldier is out in the real world. There is no more story.”

“Bitch, revenge.” Your publicist snaps, hands out in the hair from shock. “I want him to get his revenge. To…… to find that person. The head of it all. I want Jameson to come back and prove himself. Last book? We have built an empire off these novels and you want it to be the last book?”

“I don’t know. It seems weird. With all the fighting on the news, did you see that captain america footage? It just feels like there are more serious things to-”

“We will talk about this later.” She snaps once the doors open, pulling you with her to meet your awaiting fans. 

Minutes go by and soon enough you're blinking to try and see through the amount of flash photography there was, smiling a tight smile as it all begins to die down and the questions start coming in. 

“What was your inspiration?” 

“A sign, years ago, with a drawing on it.” You smile. 

“Did you inspire Stephen off of Steve Rogers?” 

“No. I actually have no clue where he came from.”

“You mentioned on your last tour that the rare amulet the Frost Warrior had gone to find was inspired by the ‘Amulet of Ronav’ which was just recently given to a museum after being missing since your book. Were you excited about the news?”

“Yes.” You admit, nodding. “Though I am so curious as to who randomly decided to return that.” 

“Do you think the ‘Frost Warrior’ will try and find some of the weapons that ‘Baskilisk’ was making him hunt down? Maybe assassinate the monsters that hurt him?”

And you drew blank on that question because truth was you could see it, you could see the man of your imagination crawling through vents and tunnels to find the weapons before they could. You could see him growing his relationship with his old best friend and joining the new world with his leading lady. 

But you didn’t want to anymore. 

“If you’ll excuse me.” You rush out, standing quickly to walk out of the conference and rush to the bathrooms. Nauseated and tired. 

This was never what you had imagined. 

In your rush to run some cold water and pour it on your face you missed the man coming into the bathroom right behind you until you stood at full height to look in the mirror. Jumping quite a bit when you see him. 

“OH MY-�� You whirl, kicking out and managing to hit his thigh before his own hand reaches out to grab your throat, pushing you into the wall beside the sink and cutting off your circulation as you scratch and claw at his hands. 

His eyes were red, not bloodshot but the pupils of them were red, like a demon and by the way he didn’t even flinch when you scratched across his face you were sure he was. 

“Easy now pet.” He mumbles, pushing you up by your throat until your feet were no longer on the floor. “I ain’t gonna kill ya. I just need you to…..”

And the words were missed by the way your vision blacked out, body going limp. 

- 

“Oh, can we get the bag off her head please?” A voice breaks out, sounding a bit slow as you blink in a pitch black nothing, until someone roughly pulls the bag over your head and you are forced into a new light. “Oh, she does not look well.”

“They drugged her in the car.” Someone behind you mumbles as your head sinks forward, trying to close your eyes again. 

You must have passed out for a couple more minutes before a bucket of freezing cold water is splashed over you, snapping you awake in a panic. You struggle to catch your breath as you fight against the restraints on your wrists and ankles. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?” You manage to scream out, your voice scratchy and dry as the bondages scratch and pull at the skin. But you can’t stop the panic, can’t stop the way your body struggles and your breaths shorten, can’t stop the tears from falling down until you can taste the salt of them. “What. The. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry, really, about all of this.” Someone sighs out, wearing an overly expensive tux and far too much gel in his hair. “I’m a big fan and it was never meant to get this far.”

“What the fuck.?” You gasp out, looking around you in attempt to process what was going on. Every wall was gray and metal, with what looked to be bolts sticking out, the floor concrete. Nothing to recognize. 

The men standing around you all stood with guns at their hips wearing black on black, all looking a bit bored at the moment which was a complete contrast to how you were feeling. 

“Am I in a warehouse?”

“GOOD EYE!” The gel hair laughs out, clapping his hands together. “You are just absolutely marvelous.Didn’t I tell you guys?”

“You’re going to kill me!” You cry out, fighting against the restraints a little more. “Please please please, don’t! I’ll give you anything!”

“We don’t want to kill you lovey.” He sighs out, coming to pull a bit of your hair between his fingertips. “We just need some information.” 

You stay silent in hopes that he will explain more, closing your eyes to try and even out your breathing, making your body go still to try and ease some of the burn you had given yourself from fighting against the zip tie. Only he doesn’t keep talking, instead he watches you as if you were stupid. 

“Information….on?” It felt silly, pulling an attitude while being tied up to the chair. 

“The Winter Soldier.” The man smiles, still looking confused that you didn’t already know, tilting his head as he awaited your answer. “Oh. right. I apologize, you probably prefer to call him that code name….. The Frost Warrior.”

It’s silent for a moment while you blink at him, finally coming to terms with what he was saying before you burst out into laughter so hard that your ribs started aching. You couldn’t stop laughing, the tears less of panic and more so of humor now as you tried to calm down. 

“Excuse me-” Gel hair tries to interrupt before you shake your head. 

“Okay, where are the damn cameras?” You blurt, laughing as you turn to look for them. “This is a prank, right?”

“I can assure you-”

“Honestly Santana did too much this time.” You laugh. “You want to know about the Frost Warrior, well hate to break it to you bud, that was my last book.”

“Last book?”

“Yes, Last one.” Your laugh dies down a bit. “No more Jameson Boone, no more searching for lost and ancient weapons. Or being an assassin.”

“Well….Jameson Boone has stolen something from me. And I think he needs to be handled. So I would disagree.” Gel hair bites out, taking a couple steps forward in anger, and you begin to realize that he was being completely serious. 

“You have been publishing stories that have actual information in them for years and now I;m currently being HUNTED by that fool and I know you know his next move so you NEED TO TELL ME!”

“Wait-” You gasp as you catch the glint of a knife right before his body slumps down quickly, everyone not tied to a chair moving forward to see what might have happened. You angle your body to look to see what happened and you notice the bullet hole the same time they do. 

A scream tears through your throat as the men around you all raise their guns in their own panic. 

More pops ring out and more bodies slump before a hooded figure marches into the room. Every move is one done in grace, when they smash their foot in someone's face they don’t miss a second before throwing someone over their shoulder and smashing a gun. 

You take this opportunity to try and escape, throwing your body in an attempt to get rid of the zip ties only for the chair to fall back, your body with it, both landing with a heavy thud as your head cracks into the concrete. 

“Oh…” You whine out in pain, wanting nothing more than to hold your head as the hooded figure comes to stand over you. “Wait, please I beg you-”

“Don’t.” The figure grunts out, reaching up to remove the hood, the face from the sign years ago. The same jaw and the same eyebrows pinched together in anger. “And maybe next time you’re kidnapped you shouldn’t offer to give them everything.”

“Oh my god.” You gasp out, blinking twice as much to erase the image. “This isn’t real. I’m dreaming.”

“Come on.” He grunts, lifting the chair to slice the zip ties with his knife easily, hauling you over his shoulder. 

“You’re not real.” You mumble, feeling something warm leak down your face. “Oh my god I hit my head and I’m bleeding out. I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.” 

“I am. Because I’m talking to a fictional character right now.” You’re set down then, on your feet so the man before you can assess the damage with an angry glare. 

“We haven’t been formally introduced, I’m Bucky Barnes…. I think…. And you’ve been writing novels about me.”

-

Part 2?

[ultralightpoe]

Venomous- Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gahhhhhh, enjoy. Part 2 soon

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 7566

Requests: OPEN! [This work is a request]

[Thank you for the gif @another-nerdy-blog ]

Enjoy!

Inland Taipan 

Scientific Name: Oxyuranus microlepidotus

- 

“Despair is the price one pays when they set an impossible aim.” Dreykov murmurs, his voice sending a chill down your spy as he circles you slowly. His footsteps fall into a pattern your brain can’t help but follow, a constant thud like a war drum. 

And though he claimed to be checking you for your next mission you couldn’t help but feel as though he was circling you like a predator would it’s prey. 

‘He needed you’, you tried to remind yourself, doing your best to ease yourself and hide the fear from him. Because the truth was he didn’t need you. You might be his top assassin in this moment but you were easily replaceable. 

Natasha herself had warned you before she escaped. 

“We are nothing but weapons here.” She had whispered to you one night, huddled together to keep warmth on the mission, arms wound tightly around each other. Your sister in arms, your sister in life since you didn’t know your own family. 

You had known she wanted out, you wanted the same thing, and though you weren’t mad she had made it out you were upset that she had done it without you. 

Countless times dreaming of a life beyond all of this. 

Lies. 

“Do you understand what this means, pretty girl?” Dreykov asks, pulling your attention away from your memories back to where he know stood behind you, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror while you shake your head. 

You were nervous he had caught you, that he knew you had hacked into his system three days ago to find your birth name, and so when you had been ordered down you were sure he was going to kill you. 

But instead he had you prep for an upcoming mission. 

“It means not to set yourself up for failure. You know your skill, and you know your limitations. You are my top weapon.” He explains, not breaking eye contact as you bite back your tongue to make a snide comment. “The mission I am about to send you on is long and I trust no one but you.”

“Thank you.” You mutter, nodding your head. 

“I’d like to introduce you to the key of this mission, a vital part.” The door opens a couple feet away, and a strong figure was soon led into the room, the second you spot him your entire body tightens in discomfort. 

Right, Natalia Romanov was gone and you had taken her place. Which meant you would now do duo missions with the Winter Soldier himself. 

And you knew the moment your eyes traced over his body that he would ruin everything. By the way his eyes traced over your own before his fists tightened you knew he was thinking the same about you. 

- 

Dr. Aquinos always had a noticeable look of pity that, no matter how many times you saw it, always set your stomach twisting in a mix of anger and embarrassment. But you were sure if you were to bring this up she would simply tell you that you were over reading, trying to find an excuse not to trust her. 

‘By the sounds of it you weren’t always this distrusting, why don’t we try to go back and think about when that began to change’. Blah blah blah. 

The clock on the wall was the only sound that could be heard in the room, with you sitting completely still in an effort to wait out this hour until you could leave, and her across from you sitting patiently with her classic notepad and pen. She often twirled it between her fingers when she was getting impatient, and you tried not to smirk at the sight of her doing it now. 

“I thought we had moved past this waiting game routine.”

“I thought you were over that sweater,” You huff, shrugging your shoulder a bit and giving her an empty glare, only to find that she narrows her eyes. Like a lion reading the challenge. 

“You look sick.” There it is again, that damn pity that made you want to scratch out her eyes, and maybe your own. You always hated her pity, or maybe you hated the ‘serene’ paintings around the room or the happy family photo that proudly hung from the wall next to the office door. The same photo that always dug a hole in your chest whenever you spotted it. 

It was a reminder and a slap in the face at the same time. Dr. Aquinos kids will never know that pain or suffering which isn’t their fault and yet you couldn’t stop the resentment that filled you whenever you saw that damn photo. The smile that reminded you of so many… so many children that deserved better. 

You hated this office, and yet you found yourself here once a damn week. 

“I believe the term you are looking for is sickening.” You flash her a wide smile, crossing your legs to seem more confident in this moment, trying not to seem like that movement alone caused you pain. 

“I mean sick.” She states, her tone still holding that fucking pity. “Was it a long night for you?”

Yes. It had been an extremely long night for you. The first half of the night had been spent on top of a roof in the freezing cold for surveillance, only the target had shown up 40 minutes later than he normally did which meant you had an extra 40 minutes of the winter air making you shiver and tightening your bones. Which made the hip injury you tried to avoid all the worse, hard to move around. 

By the time you managed to limp your way home, scarfing down  the small rations of food into your mouth before shoving a pain pill down and diving into the cot you kept in the closet for safety. 

You had gotten maybe an hour worth of sleep before the terrors dragged you awake in a pool of your own sweat, panic clinging to your every move. 

Your hip still hurt, the throbbing beginning to work it’s way into your spine, but you had a performance to play here. “Not really, I slept through the night and woke up in my soft warm bed.”

“You’re not still sleeping on the military cot in the closet then?”

“No,” You lie, enjoying the way it slips past your lips without a notch. “I’ve got a queen size bed now.”

Yet another lie, your apartment held a duffel bag of your mission gear and suit. One dresser of normal clothes, the cot in the closet. That was all you needed. 

And it’s pathetic, the way you once dreamed of this for so long just to be living this miserable existence. 

“It’s common to miss it, you know, there is no shame in that. It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” She mumbles softly, and you hate the way she can read you that easily. 

It was true, you missed the red room. You missed your sisters and you missed the routine. You never needed to be someone in the rooms, out here in the world? A new story completely. 

You were nothing, no one. 

All you had was a name and even that didn’t seem like it belonged to you. 

“Why don’t we keep expanding on your years in the rooms….” She switches the conversation, knowing you both had hit a dead end, choosing a new route. “You told me a little about it before and I noticed that most widows have specialty names built off of that name itself. But you didn’t, can you explain why you were named….the ‘viper’ was it?”

“Yes.” Ironically the way you bite this out makes the ending sound like your very own hiss, all you needed now was a rattle and black eyes. 

“Can you explain to me how you got that name?”

“Because of…. Him.” Even referencing him left a sore spot in your chest, sweat beading the back of your neck. 

“Ah, Bucky Barnes.” She hums, and you hated that people called him that. You hated that he got his name and his recovery. He was the Soldat, he would never change and of course people were falling for his trap. 

You had long ago. 

“The SOLDAT gave me the name on our mission.” You sneer, “What time is it?”

The clock had stuck, you were sure of it. And when she reached to check the time on her watch you caught sight of her notes with the words HEALTH RISK circled and underlined, her family photo once again making you a bit nauseous as she hums out and nods to the door to let you know the time was up. 

“I look forward to our next session.”

“I don’t.” It was the truth, and you enjoyed the fact that you could speak the truth with her even if she got a little too close. “But I wish you a good week, I hope your family is okay.”

The smile that spreads across her face as you leave makes you angry, but not at her, at yourself. 

She was right, you were a health risk. To yourself and to others, but that wouldn’t matter soon, the second you completed your final task you wouldn’t have to worry anymore. 

The list of names you had made for yourself, your last mission on this miserable life would be to take out the people that hurt you. 23 names total, and at the very end of the list in the neatest handwriting you could muster was ‘The Soldat’. 

You would leave this earth, but he would leave it first. 

- 

Alternative name/s:

Fierce Snake, Small-scaled Snake, Lignum Snake 

-

It was easy to ignore the widow,  she liked to keep to herself in the corner of the small safe house they were keeping in on the first part of the mission. 

A list of names, 118 total, that Hydra and the Red Room needed gone as soon as possible. Risks that needed to be handled. And the Soldat was used to doing missions on his own but they paired him with the Widow to help. 

And at first he was sure she would be trouble, but he was proven to be wrong since the Widow seemed just as sure as him that she didn’t want to be near him. 

Right now she sat in the corner, crisscrossing, taking time to clean all her knives with the polishing kit that most of the Hydra safe houses had to keep their gear clean. Her hands worked seamlessly, making sure that the knife shown under the light, and he couldn’t seem to look at anything else but her. 

Maybe the Soldat was annoyed that she had used the polishing kit before he could. Maybe he just liked seeing that someone else had the same routine he did on these missions. Or maybe he was interested in the vials sitting beside her. 

As if she could read his thoughts she reached for one, keeping the knives before her on the ground as she twisted the cap to the vial and moved to pour the liquid over each weapon before taking what was left and he was confused by the fact that she was putting on her suit.

He looked closer, realizing that there were vials hidden within her sleeve. He wanted to know what they were for until she looked up to give him a knowing smile, teeth flashing in a way that pissed him off. 

He turned away again, so she can go back to doing her hair and looking at her reflection. 

But it all made sense the night of the first hunt. She had started at the other end of the house and planned to make their way through to find their target, and by the time he did find her she already had the target within her clutch. 

His arm twisted within her legs to keep him in place with one hand pushing his head so his neck was exposed while her other wrist snaps to reveal two puncture points at the knuckles of her suit made to look like fangs. Only a flash of those before they reach his neck. 

She removes herself immediately and he rushes to get the target, worried that he would fight back and wondering what would make the widow so stupid to let him go before he realizes that the Target wasn’t moving at all. Instead he seems paralyzed as he died slowly. 

When he whirls back to the Widow she is once again facing a mirror, fixing her hair and lipstick before turning to him with a smile that twisted his chest. “Are there any more loose ends?” 

The russian falls off his tongue with ease and she narrows her eyes at him to tilt her head. 

“Tous les détails sont pris en charge,” [All the loose ends are taken care of.] She shrugs, twirling her hair before spinning on her toes and swaying her hips to walk away. His brain racks for a moment, never great at French which she had realized on the first day, and followed the brat down the hall. 

He risks a look down the hall where Marvin Montys child slept and spots the blood splatter on the wall, before following her. 

At least the widow could do her job. 

- 

“You’re making a lot of progress, Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums out, nodding her head as she watches him from her regular spot. She hasn’t scribbled on her notepad in the past 30 minutes of their hour-long session, and he hopes that’s a good sign. “But I’d like to dive a bit deeper for a moment, cut to the harsh point if you don’t mind.”

“Not like I have a choice here Doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny,” She smirks for a second before sitting up a bit. “There’s a patch of memories that you said helped you break from the Soldier with Steve. Made it easier, your own words.” 

“There was. About a month before I was sent out to get Steve….. I had just gotten back from another mission.”

“The one with the ‘Viper’ is that correct?”

He has to clear his throat in attempt to fight off the tightness, feeling his chest constrict in pain as he nods. 

“It was a long mission. I hadn’t been away from the chair for that long before and she managed to break through every crack formed. Or at least we thought she did.”

“Have you tried to find her? Since you have come back?” 

“I started trying to find her the second Steve found me.” He explains, thinking back to when he first started tracking her down. But there was nothing, even going through all the programs he could within the Red Rooms files, he couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere after him. 

He was terrified, because if he couldn’t find a single trace of you that might have meant you were gone and he didn’t think he could survive in a world that he knew didn’t have you in it. 

But then Natasha freed the Red Room while he was ‘snapped’ and the world he came back to was a world with the Widows and all their secrets revealed. And that’s when he found Yelena….. Well Yelena had found him. 

She had been suffering from the loss of her sister, and had taken to finding all the widows herself to make sure they were fine. She was the one person in this world that had the information he needed. 

Sam, the new captain america, had poured over the intel with him. Your intel, the trail to find you. 

“You sound as if you have.”

“Not yet, but I’m close.” He nods. “I have this feeling in my chest, that I’m almost there. That I’ve almost got her. And I can give her what she’s always wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

“A candle that smells like orchids by a front door where you can hang your keys. A door mat decorated to invite kids to trick or treat on Halloween. Curtains that catch the light in the morning.” None of the things he mentioned were his dreams, not until she had mentioned them. 

“I hope you get those things.” He does too. And he was close, matter fact he only had 3 more days before Sam and himself went to find you. 

- 

The inland taipan's venom is the most potent of any snake in the world. A single bite contains enough venom to kill around 100 adult humans. The venom is a cocktail of enzymes that paralyze nerve endings, destroy muscle tissue, and cause severe bleeding

- 

A month with the Soldat had been easy keeping to yourself, 2 months had shown you so much more. 

The first being he was extremely grumpy in the mornings, no matter what. Even before you both had begun getting along you had noticed that he hated them. Every move he made was tight, He would rip open the ration packets and stomp his feet just about anywhere. He would do weapons checks so that all you would hear were the clicks and twists of his gun and the metal hand grabbing everything. 

Then he would do bed checks, coming over to the cot you had claimed as your own to throw you off it and search through your stuff. 

Month three, 3 targets in, you had completely learned his morning routine. And since you had been on watch last night you got the gift of seeing it in real time. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning in his sleep and mumbling something about a Steve he sat up right at 5am, launching himself out of his cot and taking in his surroundings. He glared at you, which made you smirk as he passed to head to the bathroom. He stretched in there, too proud to admit that even the Soldat needed to loosen his muscles. You heard the water run telling you he was right on schedule with cleaning himself up and you took the chance to rest your head on the small pillow to close your eyes before he stomps back. 

You know he is reaching for the ration packets without even opening your eyes, and you know he uses his teeth to tear it open in hopes to release some of the tension he had built up. You know he is already snatching your own ration packet to prepare it, moving to start the kettle and prepare the bowls. 

You have another 15 minutes of him checking his weapons, hearing him grunt with every weapon cleaned and polished before making sure they were all strapped into their holsters. The kettle starts ringing and he has the habit of rushing to grab it before it bothered you, and you always thought it was the most human thing to do, like a glimpse into who he would have been if he hadn’t become this monster. 

The smell of cream of wheat fills the air, and you hear his steps come to your cot, right on time. 

In the beginning he used to snatch you up to fling you, now he merely reached out a hand to guide you up without an ounce of aggression before he searched through your stuff. And normally you would go grab the rationed breakfast and get ready but today you chose to head to his own cot, sliding into it. 

You were just tired, and you really didn’t care as he turned to glare at you while you curled up, pretending that you weren’t basking in the smell of the leather and soap he wore, pressing your face into the cloth of the cot. A small ounce of fear fills you when he marches forward, only for him to pull the blanket up and cover your shoulders. 

And the warmth fills your body, black filling your vision as you fall asleep once more, this time in the Soldats bed. 

You wake a little later, eyes snapping around the room to check everything, finding the Soldat sitting over his tech to watch your next target. He snaps his head to you the second you sit up, eyes tracing over you before nodding in contempt and turning back to the task at hand. 

When you stand from the cot to grab your gear you are shocked to find that he had already prepared it for you. 

Not only had the Soldat let you sleep, but he had helped you prepare. 

And that small tug in your chest is a weakness, you know it, but that doesn’t stop you from turning to watch him work. 

If he wasn’t in this life you were sure he would have been a good man. 

You felt bad lying to him,  but you had to because good man or not he was a soldier first. And a good soldier would take you out for your weakness, a good soldier would kill you for what you were doing. 

- 

The worst part of waking up was the fact that you couldn’t escape the dreams and memories even with your eyes open. Most think that it’s over once you wake, but for you? Never. Every move is haunted by the past, every breath another painful punishment, and everywhere you look is just another reminder. There was nowhere you could escape. 

So when you manage to pull yourself from the nightmare, sitting up with your clothes drenched in a cold sweat, the darkness of the closet surrounding you like a blanket of protection. 

You’re not there….You remind yourself. If it’s dark then they are leaving you alone. 

And when you sit up, pain shoots through your hip at every single move, letting yourself out of the closet you begin your routine. 

3 am, a slight shower. Not long in fear you would be caught and in part you didn’t want to run too much water. Brush teeth, dress in suit. 

3:15, limp to the kitchen and start boiling water before you reach into your duffel to grab the pain pills you kept hidden away. The prescription written in your name feels wrong, like aren’t actually yours, like you are living the life of a stranger. But you remind yourself it doesn’t matter anyways as you shove it in your mouth, going back to scarf the cream of wheat down and then you head out for an intel session. 

You never take the door, instead you snatch your duffel and remove a little of the newspaper to slide out and climb down the fire escape. 

You take back roads, your static sounder messing up any footage of yourself the cameras might have caught. And soon enough you were prepping yourself to watch your target, venom sitting in the wrists of your suit, a little bit of that past routine giving you something to focus on. 

20 more names on the list until you would go after the Soldat, 21 more names total. 21 names until you are finished with it all. 

All you had to do was wait for the perfect time to kill this one. 

- 

The bite of the Inland Taipan with envenomation can be rapidly fatal, it can take as early as 30 minutes

- 

The Widow had worn on the Soldat, a shame to admit. 

A routine had built where it shouldn't have and now instead of working around each other they worked with each other. They made the rations together, ate together, cleaned their weapons and reloaded them together. 

When he would sit to watch the intel she began coming to sit with him, if not to watch it herself she would lean her head against him and find something to busy herself with while he worked. 

But the biggest change was the banter. 

Gone were the days of him grunting and glaring, she would refuse that now. Instead they found themselves going back and forth, but it was never serious, mostly teasing. 

She would speak in French to piss him off because she knew the Soldat struggled to keep up with it. He would come out of the shower and lean over where she slept to make the water drip down on her while she tried to sleep. She would trip him as he tried to get dressed and he would pull out strands of hair while she did it. 

Back and forth, push and pull. 

Today, when they were planning to start the intel stage on the next target it had turned out to be a downpour of rain, and normally he would go anyway. And yet, when you went to grab your suit he reached out his flesh hand to stop you, pulling you to sit back down. 

“Today, we rest.” He orders, watching your eyes narrow at the russian before you nod and stand, keeping ahold of his hand as you head to where you both keep the stash of rations. 

This safe house was freezing, and it made him miss the last one, not to mention this safe house only held one cot. The best part about this safe house? 

It had amazing rationing food. 

So when you shook the pack to heat it up he made sure to stay close and start the kettle. Keeping so close that he could always feel your arm against him. 

And once the rations were ready you both huddled together against the counters for cover so you could let your walls down a bit, sitting side by side. You shared your beef and potatoes, he shared his spaghetti, eating out of the portion packs and drinking the tea. But his favorite part about this new routine was when the conversation turned to dreams. 

“If I wasn’t in this program……” You hum, and he can’t help but watch your every movement, the way you lick your hips and scratch your forehead in contemplation. “I would have a big house.” 

He huffs out a laugh, shoving the last of his food in mouth as you shrug. “Yes, a big house. And…… and I would have a candle that smells like orchids so whenever people enter they think it smells nice….. And maybe a rug outside the door so they can see it when the kids trick or treat.”

He can’t help the smile that forms from listening about your dream, grabbing your trash to throw away before cleaning out the mugs you both used. 

“Oh! I’d have kids. At least 7!” You continue, following him before shuffling to tech case to find your camera set up. He knows you’re going to triple check that everything is working to busy yourself, something you often did whenever you brought up the idea of kids. 

Widows couldn’t have kids, this he knew. They all received the procedure. To stop periods, to keep their bodies from transforming too much and too prevent pregnancies whenever Dreykov sent them on seduction missions. And before the Soldat had met you none of that had really mattered to him. 

But now, the thought of you being used like that, it made him furious. And he tried to figure out ways to prevent it, ways to stay attached to you as a mission partner forever. 

But that would never happen, they would never allow that. So he tries not to think about it, instead he moves forward to pull you away from the tech, pulling you to the cot so you both can lay down, pulling the blanket up and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Goodnight,” You whisper in french, and pinches your arm to make you laugh before letting himself fall asleep. \

- 

Bucky had the defense of saying that they had tried knocking first, and that was a lame defense at that. But he thought about his arguments as he picked the lock with ease, pushing the door open and letting Sam take the lead. 

At the last second his flesh hand grabs at the Captain America suit, pulling his friend back to warn him. “A quick heads up, she doesn’t fight like the others.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, don’t let her wrap her legs around you and don’t let her knives come into contact, small slash or not they are all laced in venom. And above all avoid getting punctured by any of her weapons.” He explains. 

“I thought we were going in to reason with her.”

“We are.” Bucky sighs, his chest constricting in pain. “She’s just a little lost. We’ve all been there.”

The need for revenge was strong. He had been there himself, Yelena had been there. Many widows have been there. And you were currently handling that yourself, handling all the trauma yourself. And that thought hurt him. 

Sam had agreed to help, to come with him and find you, talk you down from this path Captain America style. 

So they stood together as they pushed the door in, searching every inch of the apartment for you until they realized you weren’t here. So instead they looked around for where you might be. 

“I thought all the Hydra Safe Houses had been torn apart.” Sam mutters, admiring the work you did on the windows, newspaper covering nearly every inch while Bucky moves to the closet where he had seen the bed in their search for you. 

He could imagine you nestled up in the cot, surrounded in the dark. The way you used to pull the covers completely over your head to hide from the sun and use your feet to pull the blanket in so you were fully cocooned. 

But this….. None of this was you. Countless times talking about your dreams and this was the outcome? You deserved better. 

“Everything you told me about her just doesn’t seem right here.” Sam mutters once more moving to the kitchens and digging through the cabinets. “Military rations and tea. That’s all.”

“She was so full of life, used to dream of her freedom. She needs help.” Bucky snaps, anger beginning to course through him as he heads to the kitchen. One of your biggest things when you were paired was hiding the tech when you left so no one would have access. 

Your favorite spot was always the bottom left cabinet and sure enough it all sat there. 

“Brilliant.” Sam smiles, leaning over the laptop as Bucky hacks his way in to see what you have been watching. It takes a moment for the footage to load, and once it does he finds video footage of a man walking around his apartment in a towel. 

“Live feed.” Bucky mumbles. 

“That’s Eaiton,” Sam sighs, leaning forward as the man walks down a hall and heads into what looks to be a master bedroom. The footage follows the movement and when the feed changes to another camera you had hidden Sam whistles. “And that is NOT Eaitons wife.”

“Course not.” Bucky chuckles, pulling out his phone to enter in the address on the intel. “What do you know about him?”

“Nothing much. Was on Congress, just got removed but they didn’t announce it. Kept the whole thing hush hush. Last I talked to Yelena she was looking into his name, it’s why I recognized him so quickly.”

“The address isn’t far off, if we take the back roads we can avoid traffic.” Bucky explains, beginning to lead the way out of the apartment while already dialing on his phone. It rings and rings and rings.  Once the call fails he tries again and again and again. 

Finally it’s picked up, a brash voice filling his ears, out of breath. “Who the fuck keeps calling?!”

“Jared Eaiton, I’m calling to inform you that your life is in danger. I advise you to not hang up.” Bucky starts, watching Sams wings expand so he can take off as he straddles his bike. “I need you to do a couple things for me, starting with having you and the women you are with get dressed as normally as possible. I need you to act natural.”

“Why? For what?”

“Sir, there is a Widow somewhere near your apartment,” He explains, though part of him wants to let you get your revenge he knew you were better than this. You were more than a widow. “Step two, are you ready?”

- 

Inland taipans are generally calm and reclusive, preferring to escape from trouble. However, they will defend themselves and strike if provoked, mishandled, or prevented from escaping

- 

The Soldat moved easily with you, striding side by side as you prepared to take out the target. And normally you loved his proximity, but today it did nothing but give you anxiety. 

Something he seemed to be picking up on. 

Before you could split from him to follow the plan he grabs your elbow slowly, making sure to not trigger the fang puncture on your wrist, pulling you close to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t like this plan.”

“It’s a plan we have done many times.” You try to laugh, giving him your best pretty smile to push him off the track. It only makes it worse. 

“There is something wrong with you today.” He grunts out, keeping you close. “I don’t want to separate.”

“We do this, this is the plan.” You huff, “Don’t stress grumpy man.” 

You lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, watching his eyes narrow at you a little more, but you smile like nothing is wrong once more. Leaving his arms and heading off. 

You didn’t have time, he had been a little grumpy this morning which meant he will work faster on the mission, and you had two kids to smuggle out before he caught you. 

You had made sure to take the side closest to their room for this mission, climbing up to the second story window and sliding in like a shadow. It takes 5 steps until you are in their room, and your heart expands the second you see them. 

They slept so soundly, looking so peaceful that you knew you were a villain just for having to wake them up. But you do, keeping a hand over their mouths to keep them calm as you order them in english. 

“I need you to listen.” You order, as they both try to move away. “Follow me. Now.” 

The boy jumps to do so, the girl however holds her ground until you get on her level. “Listen to me, you and your brother are in danger here. And unless you want him to be hurt you will follow me.”

And so they do. 

You work quickly, breaking a vase as you pass, spraying a bottle of fake blood to make it look like splatter before you have them hold onto you as you crawl out the same way you entered. 

The Agent you worked with most the time was already standing in the streetlight waiting for you to deliver them. “Go with him, he will keep you safe.”

The boy, once again, does not wait to run and you’re sure he is still half asleep. The girl keeps a firm clutch on your hand, forcing you to kneel as a loud bang sounds out, letting you know the Soldat is nearly done. 

“I need you to go.” You whisper, pushing some of the hair from her face and tracing her cheek with your fingers. “He’ll take care of you ….. I promise.”

She nods, crying, but runs off. 

And you don’t have time, but you watch anyways. The way the agent scoops them up and hugs them close, both their arms wrapped tightly around him. You envy it, and you hate it all in the same go. 

They will never see their parents again, they will never know the safety of their home. After today they are ruined. 

But you could at least make sure they get into the car safely before heading back, out of breath with tears falling down your face. 

You’re so panicked about time that you slip on your way in, slipping in the fake blood and slamming into the broken glass of the vase right as the Soldat comes around the corner in a fury. 

You panic, the rage written on his face makes you think he knows. He must know. This was the end and he would go back and find the kids, This will all be ruined. 

But the second he kneels in front of you the rage disappears, instead he is pulling at your limbs so he can look you over, checking you for any injuries you realize. 

“It’s not my blood.” You try to explain. 

“It is.” He snaps, eyes narrowing as he pulls a piece of glass from your hip. “You’re hurt.”

And when you look down you realize it is in fact some of your blood, since you had fallen on the vase. He pulls you to look back at him, keeping his hand on your jaw. “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t check for the kids, he merely drags you away. 

- 

The target was acting weird, both him and his prostitute were. You knew better than that, and you refused to let this one slip away today, you were so sick of watching him and his hookers. 

So you grabbed your gear, and went to work. 

Never take the front door, that was the first rule. So you climbed onto the roof of his apartment building, finding the skylight and carving your way in, sliding down on a rope to land on your feet and pull out your knife prematurely. 

Immediately you know something is off, the sharp feeling in your spine makes you feel like there is a predator near. 

A predator you know all too well by the smell of leather. 

You can’t help the hiss that passes your lips as you whirl to find him, kicking out to knock him off his feet as soon as you can. Only he was prepared for that, catching your foot with his metal, pulling you close only to barely dodge the knife you slash at him, his eyes wide. 

You take his shock to your favor, slashing at him again, his metal arm coming up to protect him. The clash rings out and you hiss again, making him grunt out as you distribute the weight. Only to get knocked off your ass by another figure. 

You had been so distracted with your hate for the Soldat that you missed the red white and blue suit.

You waste no time to twist and attack at them, turning feral with the need to kill.  

And then the fight turns 2 against one. Every slash you make is dodged by a metal shield or a metal arm, every kick is met with one of their own, every punch is caught and pushed away. They both track your movements well, easily even. 

You kick the chest of the Captain, sending him reeling back, throwing a knife to trap his sleeve to the ground as you turn back to the Soldat and move to stab the knife down, he catches it between the crook of his metal arm, grunting out to keep you further back. 

“I don’t want to do this.” He grunts out as you push down with the knife, hissing. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Need?” You laugh bitterly. “I want to do this.”

And you almost got it until he kicked out your feet and sent you reeling back. 

You were getting desperate, panicked, and though you knew better than to let yourself get this way you couldn’t help it. So with no true aim you threw the knife, the Soldat catching it with one hand as you charge at him, triggering the fangs as you use his own knee to launch up, your knee pressing on his shoulder with your right hand pulling his hair to expose his neck while he drops the knife. 

Instead of pulling you off his arms come up to catch you, like natural instinct. And you are pathetic because you hesitate, this is your chance to get him and yet you feel tears in your eyes as you can’t even push your hand to get him. 

And then you’re being thrown as something hits your back, air leaving your lungs. 

Pain laces through you as you fly off him, the shield flying back to the Captain while you fall to the ground. 

Not only do you feel the pain in your back but your hip hits the floor and you cry out, struggling to get back to your feet to keep fighting. 

“Hey! Don’t you dare!” The man in the USA suit orders, pointing at you like you are a dog. “Stop.”

You hiss while the Soldat chuckles, wiping some of the blood from his lip. “Listen-”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging out to attack but it’s no use as you crumble to the ground, your hip giving out. He’s quick to go to help you, only to be pushed back as you reach to snatch another knife only for his boot to step on it. 

“You used to be better at this.” He huffs out, still breathing heavily as the other one comes closer. 

You want to kill him, to yell at him and hit him. You want to tell him that he’s the reason for all of this. But the tears are falling and your hip is throbbing. 

You’re useless. 

“Kill me.” You snap. “Just do it. Get it over with.”

You watch as his face crumbles, pain lacing his features while his partner takes charge. 

“We are here to help you, that is all.” He starts. “You want revenge, that’s understandable. But there are better ways, I promise you.”

“Better ways?” You hiss out a laugh through the tears. “You’re kidding me.”

“You want to ruin these men, and I understand.” He leans down, and you risk a look to the Soldat, who is watching you with a devastating look, you are forced to turn back to the other to avoid getting sick. “You have information on them, you can testify-”

“What? So they can get out of it?” 

“No, they could serve time in-”

“COULD. They could.”

“Then we get revenge.” It’s the Soldat that says this, his voice tight. “We will, I promise. You work with Sam and I and we will get intel on them all, enough so that they don’t have a chance. But no killing.”

You look back and forth between them, watching as they have a silent conversation between them, before the captain finally nods with a deep sigh. 

Soldat turns back to you, kicking the knife to you gently. “Come on.”

“I can get you a full pardon.” His partner offers. “Full pardon of all crimes within the red room to now. So long as the three of us work together.”

“My entire list?” You sneer, risking a look to the Soldat one more time. 

“Entire list.” He nods, watching you closely. 

And then it clicks for you. You’re trapped here, there is no doubt. But if you could get closer, to trap him in, you could finish your promise to yourself. 

You can kill him. 

So, with a final hiss and tears falling down your face you nod slowly, clutching your hands into fists as you answer with a ‘deal.’

- 

The inland taipan is a specialist hunter of mammals, and its venom is adapted to kill warm-blooded species. The venom acts quickly to kill the prey before they can bite back or escape

- 

The Soldat helps you the entire way, even though you weren’t actually hurt, which you tried to tell him. But the arguments were no use, he would hear none of it, instead he pushed to carry you until you both made it home. 

He hauls you to the bathroom, setting you down to start the water and let it heat up before removing your suit as slowly as possible. Once the suit of off he helps you sit down so the cut is exposed and he can clean it. 

The fact that such a small cut would bother him so much nearly makes you laugh, but it also gives you butterflies, and you wonder if this is how normal people feel. So you lean forward, grabbing his attention. And without thinking you kiss him, your lips meeting his as you melt into him. 

This would change everything, and you know it, but you don’t care. And he didn’t either by the way his arms wrap around you, melting into the kiss just as you had. 

- 

You were going to kill the Soldat, it was something you had promised yourself long ago. In the darkened cell they had kept you in, near dead, the only thing keeping you from giving up was that promise. 

‘I will not leave this earth unless he is gone from it’ 

You would kill him, this was fact, no matter what you had to do. Once you did that you could kill yourself.  This final mission was yours.

-

[ultralightpoe]

that one you did for the midnights event with bucky????? oh my god. Vigilante Shit where she was the ex widow. I love the way you write Bucky with the widows and you mentioned maybe wanting to expand on them a bit but maybe with the reader dealing a little more with her ptsd. I found that I struggled quite a bit before I got to the anger part of it al. i'm biting at the walls of my enclosure, begging for that lore. BEGGING.

BEGGINNGGGG.

I love the angst you write <3 8>

Okay wait because I have a bit of a funny story to tell about 'the angst I write', and I have never been able to stop laughing about it.

I had another account years ago when I first started, back when Clint was in the vents and Thor only had pop tarts and the Avengers all lived together happily and whereas I had fluff fics, I always did a little better with my sad/angst fics.

But that was because I had always channeled my own experience in my writing and I often struggled with depression and some things that had happened to me. Well one day I wrote a, you guessed it, Bucky fic and I had used it as a vent for myself in a tough spot and channeled that feeling into a story. I posted it to Tumblr, I believe this was in 2015 maybe 2 months after Ultron, and it did well.

Except I remember very vividly the very first comment under the fic read 'Reader stronger than me because I would have killed myself if that happened to me'.

At first I was so shocked because the fic was in fact my situation, then I took it as a compliment because I am pretty strong. reader or not. I laugh about it now, but whenever someone complements how I write 'Angst' my thought always goes back to that first comment. Lmao.

Anyways I look forward to working on this request and I appreciate the love and support.

-Ultralight

[ultralightpoe]

Slim Pickens - Tyler Owens

Authors Note: Not me writing this smut on election day..... anyways enjoy! Cause I have no clue what happened to me.

Word Count: 5080

Warnings: SMUT, stranger tryna get laid and Tyler not having it.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @chrishemsworthsbitch ]

Enjoy!

“Guess I'll end this life alone

I am not dramatic

These are just the thoughts that pass right through me”

-

There was a simple saying that been passed down from generation to generation, and you knew it all too well. 

‘No use crying over spilt milk’. 

Your grandma used to say it whenever you had boy problems back in middle school and your mother took up the saying when you went on to middle school and in both of these stages in your life you hadn’t quite understood what they meant. 

Now, sitting cross legged on Tyler Owens hotel floor as he repeated those very words to you, you knew them all too well. And by the look of his smug smile in your direction as he got ready for the day you knew he knew his words struck a nerve. 

“Now don’t get cranky at me, sweetheart.” He warns, pointing at you as he kicks his boots closer to the bed so he can sit on the end of it to put them on. “I warned you he wouldn’t be worth it last night when you left.”

The ‘he’ in mention was some guy named Jake that you had matched with on Tinder last night, and who you had dumbly agreed to meet up with. It had been a long week of storm chasing and dealing with Tylers crappy music in the truck and you just wanted to relieve some pressure. 

“He quoted shakespeare.” You try to defend only for him to laugh at you. 

“You sleep with every guy that quotes shakespeare?”

“Guys who quote Shakespeare are hotter than guys who haven’t touched a book in their life!” You snap back. “And-”

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He interrupts, shoving his feet into the boots with a small look in your direction. But you were too focused on staring at the floor from exhaustion. 

“Mkay Yoda.” You sigh and his hands fly up in the air from lack of belief. 

“Seriously?”

“And I mean he was hot.” You continue, falling back to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling as he finishes with the boots and moves to get his bag together. “Honestly he kind of reminded me of you. But then he had to talk. And he just kept ruining it.”

“How so?”

“He was all ‘You ever seen a jet, Sugar’? And can’t forget ‘There is almost nothing better than the high feeling of flying through the air….almost.’ And it was-” You finish off the sentence with a loud groan as you slap your forehead making him laugh. 

“Did he not know what you do for a living?”

“Oh, you mean chase storms and kill them? No. Why would he? That would involve him asking me a question.” You seethe before Tyler comes into view, standing over you with that smug smile you hated and loved so much. 

“Alright, come on Sugar. It’s time to go.”

“Tyler, I’m gonna die alone.” You groan, closing your eyes before covering your face. He is having none of it though, reaching down to grab at your forearms, hauling you up with an ease that makes your skin flush. His hands are warm on your skin and the way his thumbs circle your flesh has images of your nasty daydreams flashing through your mind. 

“Enough of that mopin’. We got storms to chase and I ain’t got time to tell you that you’re never gonna die alone.” 

“Cause you don’t believe it?”

“No, cause the chances of us dyin’ in a tornado together are far more likely.” He laughs, deep and throaty as he leans down to scoop you up by the waist, taking a second to slap at your back thigh before exiting the hotel. “Cate will also kill us if we’re late again.”

-

“All the douchebags in my phone

Play 'em like a slot machine

If they're winnin', I'm just losin'”

-

“Not to be that guy…” Tyler starts, his voice already filled with annoyance. “But is now the time to be checking your phone?”

His hands were tight on the wheel as the truck raced through the fields, efficiently tracking down the storm that had caught Cate’s eye. And while you normally took the passenger seat next to Tyler after fighting with Boone for it so that Cate could take her own ford with Javi, today she had taken the seat and you were in the back with Boone who was just as upset by losing his special spot next to Tyler. 

It had been a rough day, between realizing one of the cars were completely broken down in the hotel parking lot and Boone nearly breaking his pinkie while trying to fix it. Let’s just say the hood of the truck came down a little too fast. Not only that but you had gotten stuck in the bathroom of your room until Tyler had to come save you in your towel, treating you like you were plague victim number one ever since. 

But the best part of the day so far? The introduction to Scott loservains new team, conning poor victims one at a time. 

“Hey man, I’m tracking our filming.” Boone argues, already offended.

“I’m making sure Javi has the same stats as us.” Cate argues. 

“Not talking to either of you. I’m talking to little miss lovestruck in the back.” 

“Hey!” You snap, immediately closing your phone. “Mind your business Tyler.”

“You’re in my truck. My truck is my business and everyone in the truck is my business.” He snaps back, shrugging his shoulders. “And besides, the more you let those fools win the more you lose.”

“How do you even know I was texting a guy?” 

“Because Sugar, I know you.” He snaps, casting you a quick look from his spot at the wheel before turning back to the road. 

“I think if you focused less on me then you would be able to drive better.” 

“I think if you focused less on the boys in your phone you wouldn’t be bitchin’ and moanin’ at me all the time!” He snaps back making you gasp as Cate and Boone switch their attention back and forth between you both. 

“Should we be worried?” Cate blurts, landing her gaze on you with her eyebrows pinched together in worry. 

“Not unless Tyler can’t learn to mind his own damn business!” 

“I’ll mind my business when you stop makin’ it my business!” 

“FINE!”

“FINE!”

-

“A boy who's jacked and kind

Can't find his ass to save my life”

-

The bar that sat 3 blocks away from the current hotel the team was staying at could only be described as a dingy cowboy bar, and considering you were mad at a certain cowboy this was the perfect place.  Surrounded by dozens of cowboy hats, none of them belonging to ‘Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business’. 

He currently stood at the other end of the bar, closer to the live band as the dance floor began to fill with line dancers. Even that far away he was still being a pain in your ass with the way he glared across the floor every time you looked over. 

“You two don’t fight a lot. This is weird for you.” Cate chuckles, spinning her bottle of beer on the counter sat in front of you both, hearing the glass ring on the wood of the counter. “It sends the entire vibe of the group off.”

“It’s his fault.” You huff, scratching at the label of your own bottle as you avoided looking in his direction again. “I honestly don’t know where his freakout came from.”

“You don’t?” 

“No!” You huff, slapping your hands on the counter. “We were fine yesterday, I told him about that date with the aviator-”

“Oh that Jake guy. He was kind of cute.”

“Thank you. Anyways-” You take a quick inhale of air before looking at her. “We were fine and then today he was fine when he came to help me out of the bathroom but the second the door to the bathroom opened he got pissy.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, I assumed he had been getting hounded by everyone all day. He must have been stressed.” 

“Hmm.” She hums out, taking a look around the bar as you sit and mope. “I’m sure you both will get over it soon enough.”

“Slim chance. I am gonna ignore him forever now.”  It’s obviously just you being over dramatic but you were angry and embarrassed that he would call you out like that in front of the group. “Besides, if he didn’t want me talking to him about all that boy stuff he should have just told me. I don't know where his boundaries lie unless he sets them.”

“Damn, that’s deep.” She nods before tilting her head. “They should have put you on the shirt.”

“That’s what I said.” 

“And yet they-”

“Excuse me for interrupting ladies…” A new voice joins the group, making you both turn to the figure. A tall man with bruises along his jaw and a scratch right above his eyebrow. A black cowboy hat paired with a black shirt.  A fine specimen if you could say so. “I just saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and I had to come say hello.”

“Well would you be pickin’ here?” Cate smiles. 

“There is no wrong answer.” You hum out, tilting your head like a cat assessing prey. 

“Then can I say both?” 

“Oh, look at that. Even with a map leading to the answer he still managed to mess it up.” You snipe, giving Cate a knowing look as you both grab at your bottles of beer and move to make your exit. 

“Wait wait.” He reaches a hand in front of you to try and stop you from passing. “Not a great start. I know that. So let me just start over, yeah?”

“Oh… I didn’t realize I did do overs.” 

“Then what can I do to be granted one?”

“Is there a problem here?” Leave it to Tyler Owens to enter this scene, giving his best glare as he inserts himself between you both with his back to you so he can glare down the cowboy.

“There is no problem here.” The cowboy smirks, and you are shocked to see just how brave he was. Then it clicks, the bruises and the hat. This was a bull rider. “You got a problem, bud?”

“Oh yeah I have-”

“LET’S DANCE!” You interrupt, sending a glare to Tyler before pulling the bullrider to the floor as Tyler rolls his eyes. 

Before you can make it too far his hand reaches out to grab your elbow with a knowing look, and even when he is mad he still holds your arm with a gentle ease and traces the skin with his thumb. “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Well that’s interesting…. Cause it’s MY business!” You scoff, pushing his arm back and moving to the dance floor with the stranger. 

-

“Oh, it's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

It was only fair, since there weren’t many options of men you would just lower your standards and have fun with this idiot for the night. 

He had two left feet, and was pressed against you the entire time but not in a hot way, more so a sweaty mess kinda way. And you would have abandoned him already but every time you looked for an escape you saw Tyler and his glare, there was too much at stake here. You could never admit Tyler was right. In YOUR business. 

So you ignored him and turned back to the stranger, just in time for this waste of space to press his lips to yours. It was awkward, the way your noses pressed together and how hard he smashed his lips to yours. There was no rhythm, no preparation or molding together. It was just his lips devouring your face as you tried to lean back. But the further you tried to get away the more he leaned with you. 

When he pulls back he keeps his hands on you with a sharp smile. “Wanna go back to your place?”

There wasn’t many options, and the one option you truly wanted would never happen let alone the fact that you were fighting with him so you would make do with what you had. “Sure, let’s go.”

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

Telling Cate that you were heading out with him was easy, she made you promise to update her that you were okay, which was easy to do.  You managed to avoid any conversation about Tyler in his truck, which was hard because Mr. Bull Rider was dead set on asking about him. 

“What was that guy with white hats problem?” He asked, and you changed the conversation to the music he was playing. Then he tried the “You guys ever date or somethin’?” 

That one was harder to change since your throat got clogged up thinking of the answer. It’s not like you never wanted to date Tyler, in fact he was all you dreamed of. But it wasn’t meant to happen. Tyler wasn’t yours. 

So you simply started giving him directions to the motel like he hadn’t asked. And by the time you made it to the destination you had hoped that the conversation had passed as you unlocked the door. 

“This is it. Home sweet home….. For a little.” You smile, allowing him to look around while you take your shoes off. 

“So you live in a motel?” 

“When it’s tornado season, yes. We travel around but when he find a specific spot we try to stay.”

“You follow tornadoes?”

“Yes, and we chase them. And if there is destruction we try to help out the communities.” You explain, picking up the tornado shirt with Tylers face on it so you can show him then debate it at the last second you drop it down. “It’s fun.”

“I’ll bet.” He nods before allowing himself to sit on your bed. “We doing this?”

“Oh. Straight to the business.” You mumble, a little shocked as he begins unbuttoning the black top. 

“Sorry, did you want to talk or something?” 

“Well no- I just-” You couldn’t tell if you were thankful that the door opened in that second or absolutely furious as Tyler appeared with that fake innocent smile. 

“Hey Sugar,” He starts, letting himself in fully and shutting the door. “I just wanted to come make sure that bathroom door was all taken care of for ya’.” 

“Tyler, is now the time?”

“Oh, please. It’ll only take a minute.” He chuckles, walking past you both to get to the door. “Wouldn’t want you getting stuck in there again.”

“Tyler, what on eart-”

“Hey man, we were kinda in the middle of something here.” Stranger boy snaps out, scooting so he was right on the edge of the bed, his face pinched between confusion and anger. 

“Hey, safety first.” Tyler laughs, the sound fake and bitter as he leans down to check the hinges of the door while you just blink in shock. “Ah I see the problem here.”

“Tyler.” You hiss. 

“Just give me a moment.” He murmurs, working on the hinge of the door while you glare. “Just a minute……”

“Dude.” Stranger boy sighs and you are wound between shock, anger and embarrassment. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,.”

“There she is. Good as new.” Tyler smiles, standing to swing the door. “Look at that. Bet you’re glad I did it.”

“Tyler. Out.” You snap, moving forward to grab parts of his shirt to drag him out the door and slam it on him. “Now where were we?”

But it’s no use, since the door reopens with Tyler giving yet another innocent look. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I forgot my screwdriver here.” 

“Tyler, grab it and then leave. And leave the key.” The fact that you were even in this moment was so bizarre. 

“Actually, I think I’m gonna get going… but let me write my information for when you get rid of dumbass barbie over here.” Stranger cowboy mutter, grabbing the pad of paper from the desk and writing his stuff down before moving forward to attempt to kiss you but Tyler is there, patting him on the back aggressively with a slight shove. 

“Sorry to see you go bud.” He smiles, a tense and angry smile before throwing an arm around your shoulder. “But we’ll be fine here.”

And you watch the bullrider leave, the door shutting before you whirl on him. 

-

“Jesus, what's a girl to do?

This boy doesn't even know

The difference between "there," "their" and "they are".”

-

“I can murder you.” You seethe, shoving his arm off of you and taking a couple steps away from him. “Matter of fact, what’s stopping me from doing so?”

“I just figured you might want help with the door-”

“Enough with the bullshit Tyler Owens!” You yell, whirling on him with your hands on your hips and a heavy glare. “What on earth were you thinking? After your fit today and that scene I’m starting to think you have lost your damn mind!”

“Hang on now-”

“And what on earth-” You take a moment to snatch up the pillow from the motel bed to swing it at him. “WOULD MAKE YOU INTERUPT-”

“HE WAS TERRIBLE!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” You yell. “Look around for a second Owens! There aren’t many options. The ones that are worth it are already taken, the one that I want would never go for me. I don’t have many options!”

“AND WHEN AM I GONNA BE AN OPTION?!” He yells out, grabbing your wrists before you can hit him with the pillow again. “When do I get the chance to prove myself?”

“Oh stop.” You snap, moving to walk away. “Don’t mess with me about this.”

“Why would I be messing with you? Is it so hard to believe that I want you?” He follows, making sure to keep a hand on you. “Time and time again you rant to me about these men, how they suck and you hate them. And I keep waiting for you to notice me, to give me a chance. Cate tells me that you might just be nervous, or that our time will come but Sugar I don’t think I can survive this much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Your tone is gentle and you’ve given up walking away, choosing to turn to him and allow him a chance to talk. Your heart was thumping through your chest and you were struggling to catch your breath. 

“Sweetheart, from the moment I met you I’ve been stuck. Comin’ in with all that attitude like you owned the world, which if you ask me you do, and you didn’t hesitate to put me in my place.” He continues, moving closer to set his hands on your hips. “And I just kept begging the winds to give me a chance. To give me a single shot with you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“Why would you give me a chance?” He laughs, pulling you in. “But I need one now. I’m begging you for a chance here.”

And though no words are spoken you both know the answer, especially when you pull him in with your hands on the back of his neck to attach your lips to his. And unlike the kiss in the bar this one felt perfect. 

There was awkwardness. He tilted his head perfectly, pulling you chest to chest as his hat covers both your heads while his lips melt against yours. He takes his time learning the kiss, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you deepen the kiss some more. This is what was meant to be and you both knew it at that moment. 

There is no objection when you begin unbuttoning his flannel, one at a time, never breaking the kiss as you push it off his shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor before he reaches a hand up to throw the hat closer to the nightstand. He doesn’t waste time after he hears the thump of it landing to reach and lift his undershirt off, throwing it somewhere else as he makes eye contact. 

“Please tell me I ain’t dreamin’ right now.” He whispers out as you begin to undo your own shirt to slip off before leaning up. 

“I can’t tell.” You whisper back, leaning on your tiptoes to attach your lips once more, his arms wrapping around you to undo the back of your bra. 

Normally when a man removes the bra it is thrown away and he doesn’t focus too much on any of it, but Tyler? He kisses around your jaw as he undoes the buckle of it before his kisses move down your neck while he drags the bra down until he can drop it, allowing his hands to roam. The feel of his hands sends shivers throughout you and yet they keep you warm as you try to back him to the bed. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure.” You whisper back, undoing his belt as he kicks off his boots. “I want you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you.” He grunts out, pulling you closer before falling back onto the bed and dragging you with him. 

-

“Yet he's naked in my room

Missin' all the things he's missin'

God knows that he isn't livin' large”

-

It doesn’t take long for you both to strip, slowly and gently, until you are both bare. He doesn’t waste time kissing you gently before guiding you up the bed until you’re leaning on the pillow you hadn’t dragged away, kissing along jaw as you sigh out in relief. 

He takes his time kissing down your neck, nipping a bit to pull out a breathy moan from your lips before moving further down to kiss and suck at your breasts. He grunts out at the way you wiggle, a breathy giggle passing your lips until a moan passes them the moment his tongue circles one of your nipples. The sound draws his eyes to yours and that sweet lovestruck look falls into one of ferocity, the heated light within them as your lower stomach tightening and your hands rushing to get some contact. 

Once your hands find purchase he abandons your breasts, leaving them cold to the air, as he makes his way further down. Every kiss is followed by a lick, every nip is given a bushel of kisses to make up for it. He works your body until he makes it to your thighs, spreading them open for him to view, sending a shiver across your body. 

“Tyler, please.” You gasp out, that tight feeling in your stomach begging for relief as your thighs beg to shut, but he is having none of it. Keeping them forced open so that he may give your inner thighs the same treatment he had given the rest of your body. 

He gives up his torture with a growl before diving straight in to lick right between your folds. He keeps his hands around your hips to keep you pinned to him when your back arches as you moan out loud. He devours you, licking and sucking over and over with grunts and growls to match your moans. 

He doesn’t relent until your moan hits near scream and your hands grip at the pillow, dragging it to your face to bite into as you reach your peak, entire body shuddering as you moan out. 

He continues until you come down, pulling away to give you the smuggest smile you had ever seen from him, your entire body ablaze as you sit up to reach for him. 

The other kisses were sweet and gentle, this one was two animals claiming each other. And he let you take charge, your speed and your lead. Tasting your own juices as you dragged him back down to lay over you. 

-

“A boy who's nice that breathes

I swear he's nowhere to be seen”

-

He’s quick to flip you both over so that he’s beneath you and you are on top, a wave of panic filling you. 

“Tyler….I’ve never-” You begin, hands landing on his chest as he gazes up at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen from him. 

“If you don’t want to then that’s fine, Sweetheart.” He mutters, reaching over to grab where his hat landed and bringing it to set on your head. “But you might just need a little confidence.” 

And he was right, with the way he was looking at you and the way the hat felt, suddenly you believed you could rule the world. So you lifted yourself a bit, keeping the gaze as you reached down to line yourself up to him, and with a loud moan you sunk yourself down. 

-

“It's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

-

His grunts were easily replaced by moans as you sunk down, his hands digging into your hips, letting you take a moment to adjust before guiding your hips slowly. You tilt your hips with each guide, struggling to catch the proper rhythm and getting pleasure nonetheless. 

A moan escapes you as he guides you down at the same time he thrusts up and it’s like something clicks as you begin to find your own rhythm. Using your hands on his chest to keep yourself stable as you begin to speed up your movements. 

Tyler gives in, enjoying your new pace, thrusting up into every bounce. Grunting and growling as his nails dig into your hips and he closes his eyes to enjoy the pleasure while you lean down to nip at his chest which makes him groan. “Darlin’...”

And that makes something inside of you burn, a feral moan passing your lips as you speed up, nails digging into his chest before he sits up to kiss you, helping you bounce on his cock with ease. 

“Y-you’re…” He groans. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, and he readjusts so that he was on his knees to thrust into you, pulling you down to meet him. The sound of skin slapping is alluring and your thighs clench to cage him in as you lose your breath and shut your eyes. 

“Tyler.” You whine, nails digging into his back as something in you begins coiling, tighter and tighter until he bites down between your neck and shoulder and it all falls in an instant. All you can see is white as you bite down on your own lip, holding him tight to you as the waves of pleasure subside. 

He continues to thrust before falling under the same spell that had you, keeping his forehead pressed into your collarbone as he spills his cum into you. 

You both fall into the cushion of the bed, shuddering as he pulls out before closing your eyes to catch your breath from that experience. And when he wraps his arms around you it’s far too easy to fall asleep from his warmth surrounding you like a blanket of it’s own.

-

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

-

It’s the feeling of him moving that wakes you a couple hours later, when the bed dips as he stands, making you blink in the dark to see what he is doing. Apart of you panics that he might be leaving, and this was just going to be a one night stand until he pulls on his boxers and turns back to come lift you. 

“Why are we awake?” You croak, already feeling cranky at the fact that you had been woken up. 

“I figured you’d want to shower, and this is when I normally do.”

“You shower at 4am?” You scoff, clinging to him as he sets you down so your feet touch the cold bathroom floor. 

“Yeah. I figured out that no one else showers at this time-”

“Because it’s crazy.”

“Well since no one else showers at this time the water is always at its best pressure and warmth.” He explains, reaching in to turn it on. “Then I can get another hour or so of sleep.”

“Oddly genius.” You giggle, laughing when he shucks the boxers off as a pretend strip tease before hauling you into the shower with him. 

-

“Moanin' and bitchin'”

-

He takes his time washing your body, lathering the soap over your body with gentle hands as his eyes traced over you over and over again like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. 

He let you do the same, the only words spoken never went above a whisper so you didn’t break the bubble and shampooed eachother before shutting the water off and using the towel. 

When he swings the door open he makes sure to raise his eyebrows, a look of pride covering his face that makes you scoff. 

“You cannot be serious.”

“I wonder what hot scoundrel fixed that for you…”

“Hmmm. I wish I knew.” You tease, “I might have rewarded him.”

A small growl leaves his lips as he scoops you up and hauls you to the bed once more. 

-

“Since the good ones call their exes wasted

And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin'

Then I'll just be here in the kitchen

Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'”

-

You sit on the motel floor as Tyler works around you to get ready for the day, listening to you bitch and moan as he struggles to put his boots on. 

“I’m so sore.” You whine, falling flat on the floor to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah? At least you never have to worry about dying alone.”

“No,” You huff out a laugh. “Now I just have to worry about you killing me.” 

“Never.” He smiles, coming to haul you off the floor just to throw you over his shoulder and head for the door.

-

[Thank you for the gif @sabrinasgifs ]

[ultralightpoe]

JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

-

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain. 

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person. 

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. 

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare. 

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said. 

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’.  But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink. 

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention.  Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat. 

This could be fun. 

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it. 

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh. 

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic. 

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

-

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin. 

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?” 

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost. 

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door. 

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you. 

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.” 

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.” 

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress. 

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath. 

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms. 

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining. 

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him. 

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence. 

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark. 

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster. 

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

-

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about. 

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill. 

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person. 

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors. 

-

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

-

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan. 

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn. 

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back. 

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off. 

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to. 

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap. 

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm. 

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home. 

-

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

-

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check. 

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement. 

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you. 

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.” 

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

-

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

-

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt. 

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center. 

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own. 

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair. 

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan. 

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him. 

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up. 

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze. 

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point 

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them. 

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

-

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time. 

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back. 

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure. 

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off. 

-

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

-

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild. 

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump. 

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher. 

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets. 

-

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

-

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was  empty. 

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs. 

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin. 

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you. 

“Goodnight.” You whisper. 

“Goodnight, Doll.”

-

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

-

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling. 

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door. 

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look. 

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

-

[Thank you for the gif @weekdaygladers ]

[ultralightpoe]

Sticky - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Yeah the fandom is EATING with this song and that trailer so I figured I might as well feed into my own obsessions. -Ultralight

Song Inspo - Sticky from Tyler The Creator

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: Fighting, reference to smexy times

Requests: OPEN [working on the first round now]

MAIN MASTER LIST

[Thank you for the gif @unearthlydust ]

Enjoy!

It’s the bitter laugh that no one wants to hear, that’s the moment when the realization begins setting in. The chill down his spine, locking in the fear as the cold sweat begins to form, knuckles tightening around his glass of whiskey. 

The room wasn’t cold, with the fire crackling just a few feet away, so there wasn’t really a reason for him to be shivering. But that cold embrace of fear was wrapping Declan Morarie like a blanket. He was a man coming to the realization he was about to die. 

It was Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, sat at the end of the long table she hadn’t been invited to, in a home she hadn’t been welcome in but still sat in nevertheless. In the beginning of Declans career he always wondered how people remembered her full name, but watching the women now he understood. She was completely untouchable. 

“Oh come on now,” She teases, clapping her hands together in excitement as that same bitter laugh passes her lips. “I’m excited for the show.” 

“You think this is funny?” He bites out.

“Well from my seat I think it’s pretty great. I, however, would never want to be the one getting hunted down by Bucky Barnes and his fucking wife.” She chuckles, pulling a piece of lint off her dress. 

“And how….” He has to take a breath in to compose himself, slamming the glass on the table before him. “How did they get to me?”

“You tortured her for years, your very own project….. Well her and 20 others. Honestly it was only a matter of time before they tracked you down.” She explains, standing up and walking herself to the bartop. 

“And you didn’t happen to put my name in their ear?”

“Barnes will be my problem….. On another day.” She nods, pouring herself a shot and turning to him to cheers before downing it. “But today, he’s yours.” 

She slams the glass down until it splatters across the entire floor, her heels crunching into it as she waltzes to grab her coat. “I do apologize old friend, and I am….. Hopeful? Yes, that seems like a decent word, I’m hopeful you will succeed surviving.”

“I will.” He sneers, but even the words fall flat.

“Oh I’m sure you will.” She laughs, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Though I do hear things get a bit sticky when those two decide they want someone dead.”

- 

“Who would have thought that this… hunting down the bad guys of the world could be soooo… hmmm.” You tilt your chin up in a quiet contemplation as your husband frets over your suit. He busies himself with checking all the safety measures you both had designed for the suits when you decided they would be worn again. 

“Tiring.”

“Cathartic,” You hum back, sliding your hands down to snatch onto his own and bring them up so he can stop fretting. “You’re grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You are.” You argue, kissing the knuckles of his metal hand before doing the same to his flesh hand. “You didn’t get much sleep and now you’re tired and grumpy. I don’t like when you do this grumpy.”

“No more with the word grumpy. You have overused it.” He huffs, leaning to kiss your forehead. 

“Fine, ill-tempered.”

“Hardly,”

“Testy.” 

“Not even close.”

“Crotchety.”

“Really? We’re going that far?”

“Hmmmm. Waspish. How about that?”

“I….. will allow it if it means we can just get this over with.” He kisses around your face, using his metal hand to tilt your face for easier access while you fight off a smile and push him back. 

“You know what to do.”

“Straight to business then.” And though he turns his back to you he keeps you close while using the tech pad to monitor the halls of the building you both were about to enter. 

“He doubled up on guards. Someone warned him.” He analyzes, shifting a bit to show you the footage. “Valentina.”

“Hmmm.” You choose not to actually respond, allowing your husband to work through his own anger and suspicion while you watch the guards to begin learning the patterns. 

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” You defend, passing the tech back. “But I don’t want you getting ahead of yourself. That is a hunt for another day.” 

“You ready?”

“Of course.” And it’s easy, the way you two fall to the plan so naturally, having worked together for years now. He lets you pass by him, his flesh hand catching a strand of your hair as you strut past, casting him one more glance before disappearing to find your entrance. 

Once you are at your mark you place the comm in, tapping it twice to make sure it works as you begin slicing the door with the silent laser. 

“Placed?” Bucky asks after a moment, meaning he had made it to his own mark. 

“You know it.” You mutter, pushing the door open in the small place you had cut before easily sliding in, your feet near silent on the ground as you watch the hall and begin trekking through. 

Moving like a shadow should never have been this easy, and yet it was, all thanks to the man you were here to kill. 

“будь в безопасности.” He mutters in your ear, his voice a soft caress in the first moment you hear steps approaching. ‘Be Safe’, his favorite thing to say since he knew you didn’t need luck. 

“être en sécurité,” You repeat his saying back to him, this time in french just to bother him since he could never speak it fluently. 

And then you finally meet the person walking closer, but before he can even prepare himself you are already sliding across the floor to kick out his legs before you swipe the overly large gun from his hip and knock him out with it, sliding on your knees to face forward with the stolen gun and raise yourself back to your feet. 

Each movement is a simple glide, one in front of the other as you trace the hall for movement. The plan was simple, meet in the middle and make your way up. You just had to shut down all the exits first. 

You started with the elevators, opening the first and shooting the controls until the light within it flickers and marking it useless and moving to the second one. When the doors slide open a guard moves to rush out, and you use his outstretched arm to heft him over your shoulder until you are throwing him to the floor and twisting until you hear a snap. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, kicking him away as you hear Bucky grunt within the comms as he finds his own issues. You mimic the movements you had used on the other elevator before rushing to the front entrance and using their own night time security gates against them. Locking anyone from leaving and keeping anyone from entering. 

And now that you were finished with that you began you started your way to meet your husband. 

It only took 15 minutes and by the time you do find him he’s leaning on the wall like nothing else mattered, tilting his metal hand under the light above him to admire the etching done for your wedding. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” You murmur, your tone seductive as you lean next to him. “What’s a place like this doing in a guy like you? …….Wait, don’t I have that backward?” 

“Keep looking at me like that and I’m sure we’ll find a lot of things backwards.”

“Oh,” You blink, staring at him. “I honestly can’t tell if that was sexual or a threat.”

“Then why can I practically hear your heart beating through your chest?”

“I never said I wouldn’t like it as either.” You huff, turning on your toes and signaling him to follow you. “You’re very beguiling.”

“Another big word. Should I be worried?”

“You got me the dictionary. Which I was slightly offended by.” You huff, twisting your body up the stairs as you see a figure in the corner of your vision, working with grace to pull him down and over the railing. “Stop flirting with me Barnes.”

“You stop flirting with me, Barnes.” He snaps back, making sure that guard stays down before using his gun and following you as back up. “Almost there.”

“Noted.” You murmur, shooting the tech pad to enter the door from the stairwell. The second the door swings open there are guards swarming you both, but it is lightwork when you both work together. 

The man that went to punch you met Bucky's metal fist before he could even make contact, the knife that almost hits Bucky’s mid section is easily lost the second you kick the wrist holding it. Like a bloody tango, every motion has a repercussion. 

“Любовь [love],” You huff, spinning to take out two men while facing Bucky. He reads your idea the second you make eye contact, allowing you to use his thigh as a stepping stool and throw one leg over his shoulder. 

He shoots the men in front of you both as he makes his way down the hall, you taking out the men coming up to flank you. 

By the time you reach the double doors holding the enemy within,  you swing off his shoulder with ease before an unknown figure rushes you both. 

You are thrown back, back meeting the floor as you slide while Bucky is thrown into the wall. 

“What the…..” He starts. 

“Fuck.” You finish, upon seeing who just hit you both. 

He was tall, with red eyes and a sneer on his face, yet another over drugged super soldier. 

Bucky is the first to regain himself, standing quickly and pushing himself into the soldier to knock the weight off and send him down. Only he pushes back, both men stuck in the hold, so you launch up. 

Your hands hit your husbands shoulders and you vault over him to lock your thighs around the neck of the soldier and twisting your body to send him flying back with you. 

Unlike you, however, he doesn’t manage to catch himself and falls on his back. Bucky is there, foot on his neck as you pull the gun and finish him off before moving to kick in the door and find Declan Morarie.

He doesn’t say anything, merely turning to the door with a bottle in hand as he staggers for balance. 

“Fuck.” 

“Fuck.” Bucky mocks, giving you a look before you both rush at him. 

-

“I think you need to go to bed.” You huff, watching your husband pull out the paperwork the second you both got home, after dropping your duffel bags by the doors. “No work.”

“I need to review her bills, she’s hiding something in plain sight-” His conspiracy theories about Valentina were interrupted by you slipping your shirt off and throwing it at him. 

“A hunt for another day then.” He amends, following you into the bedroom as quickly as he can.

[ultralightpoe]

Pots and Potions - Steve Rogers

Authors Note: Part 16? Maybe? Sounds right, and it'll be obvious that I just finished Agatha All Along. My poor babies

Warnings: none {Agatha depicted as a villian}

Word Count: 685

Requests: OPEN

~2024 Halloween Event Masterlist

[Thank you for the gif @likamartini ]

ENJOY!

There was a time where mentioning a witch could get you killed, and back when Steve Rogers was still in school they went through an entire session on the Salem Witch Trials. There were still rules back then, rules that you followed to avoid such scandalous things and one of those rules was no speaking of witchcraft.  But it was no secret that he came back to an entirely new world, and this new world was…. Filled with witches. 

During her short explanation one of the assistants had explained some of the dos and don'ts of witchcraft… or better said, How Not To Piss Of A Practicing Witch. Some of these rules ran through his head as he headed to one of the local shops she had recommended. 

Don’t call her a witch. It could be derogatory. 

Never tease the magic. It would be like teasing someones religion. 

And the last but not least never under ANY circumstances mention Agatha Harkness. 

Though he had no clue who that last one was referencing he made sure to remember the name to avoid an accidental slip. 

That didn’t seem to matter because the second he made it to the front door of the building all rules were forgotten. The colorful stained glass of the doors depicting a woman dancing under the phases of the moon was alluring enough as he traced the silver lines holding the stained glass together. 

But it was the woman inside that really drew him in. 

She was stocking the shelves of different colored candles and when he pushed the door open the small jingle of the bell drew her attention quick enough that he felt like even with the super strength it was her that could win the fight. 

“Hello,” He starts, panicking a little as he looks around the room at everything there was to see. From candles to a wall of Tarot cards, oils, crystals, and a very large sign reading ‘AVOID THE WITCHES ROAD’. 

“What’s the witches road?” 

“A curse. Or a prize.” You explain, turning from him to look at the poster before whipping your gaze back. “Honestly I’m not quite sure. My boss put it up. It’s built off this old myth and there is a really cool song. What can I do for you today?”

“Oh, right to the chase.”

“It’s almost like I work here.” You huff a laugh, setting down the last candle before turning to the counter and dragging the box with you to knock it down as he takes another look around rhe room. 

“I can’t sleep, and… well I have this thing that kind of ruins modern medicine.” He begins to explain. “It doesn’t work on me.”

“Because of the super soldier serum? Maybe? Just a thought?” 

“How did you know?” And he feels so stupid when you point at the tv playing to the side displaying the news that proudly displayed him on it. 

“Now are you looking for a spell? Maybe a charm?”

“I was hoping for a potion actually.”

“Then you came in at the best time since I am here.” You smile, nodding your head to show him where to go. “I’m the best with potions in my coven.”

And he asks questions while he watches you work, watching you float around to crumble herbs and smash ingredients to work with. It was magic, nothing else could be said. By the time you finished you handed him three small vials of a slight periwinkle with an excited smile on your face. 

“They should taste like vanilla, and normally they take 3 minutes to work.” You explain, walking around the counter to start ringing him out. “I recommend a blue pillow case for better dreams as well.”

“Noted.”

“And if you need a refill you know where to find me….. You could also come in tomorrow for lunch. If you wanted.”

“I’d love that.” He answers quickly. “So long as you tell me who Agatha Harkness is.”

“Oh, that’s gonna be a long lunch.” You laugh, tossing the potions into a bag and handing it off. “Tomorrow, noon.”

-

[Thank you for the gif @sersi ]

[ultralightpoe]

Escape The Night - Bob Floyd

Authors Note: Part 15 of the halloween event! Yayyyyyy

Warnings: none

Word Count: 502 [Tiny Blurb]

Requests: OPEN

~2024 Halloween Event Masterlist

[Thank you for the gif @anxietyorg ]

ENJOY!

“I’m great at puzzles.” A lie, a big fat silly lie that lead you to this moment, all to spend time with a guy. 

You were a waitress at a diner that the Top Gun flyers frequented quite a bit, which until this year hadn’t changed your life that much, that is until the new round of candidates started coming in. You hit it off with Natasha the one time she came in for her to-go order and she ended up telling her friends about the place so they started coming in. 

Bob was the one that changed everything. 

You had the biggest crush on him, one that you were always super worried about everyone noticing but you always told yourself they didn’t. They didn’t know. No one knew. 

So when Natasha pulled you into a conversation about how they would be spending their halloween you thought everything was normal, not like she knew….right?

“We’d love for you to join us!” She smiles, wiggling her shoulders a bit. “We are splitting into teams for it and we are short one for an even split.”

Your mind's immediate thought? No. Then she says. “You’ll be on Bobby Boys team.”

“I’m great at puzzles.”

And now you are 12 minutes into a professional escape room, lights flickeringat every angle as the pretend ship begins sinking. 

“WHAT DO WE DO?” Jake yells, taking the game a little too seriously as he nearly breaks the handle he was tearing back and forth. 

“We NEED. THE. CODE!” Bradley yells back, holding the laminated papers in his hand as you continue to stare at the puzzle that was meant to give you the code. The lights were beginning to get to you as they continued to flash while Bradley and Jake began arguing. 

“What’s going on over here?” Bob asks quietly, coming to stand beside you. 

“It’s some…. Like puzzle thing but Bradley has the directions.” You sigh, turning to him. 

“I can try to help you figure it out until they slow down on their romantic banter.”

“That would be amazing.” You sigh, taking a step over to give him some room to look at the puzzle. And it’s not surprising when he immediately begins to figure it out. 

“I might have lied…. About being good at puzzles.” You admit, watching as he smoothly traces over the code to end up fixing a button. “I also would not be spending my halloween here if I thought you weren’t going to be here.” 

He casts you a look before turning back to the puzzle, this time with pink ears. “I was told you already agreed to come when I agreed to come.”

“Really?”

“Yes-” 

“SHIP SINKING!” The system announces right before Jake yells out ‘OH COME ON!” 

Bob stifles a laugh and finishes up the puzzle, watching the board open to reveal the four digit code. 

“After this I would love to take you out. Somewhere without my screaming coworkers and a looming sinking ship.” 

“I’m in.”

-

[Thank you for the gif @topgundaily ]