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lambtotheslaughterr · 7 months

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The Day The World Ended : Rise -- Part One

A Rafe Cameron Series

Chapter One

WC: 7.1k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER TWO

FIVE DAYS BEFORE THE WORLD ENDED

Your body moved with the rhythm of the dark wave music flowing throughout the party. Hot pink, neon yellow, & vibrant purple colors danced across the sea of people. You could feel yourself smiling in spite of the sweat coating your arms & legs. The alcohol that flowed through your body kept you cool & unfeeling of the stickiness that comes with an early summer in Florida.

It was so incredibly natural for you to move your limbs, waist, hips in time with the beat. A good party was where you thrived the most. Even when you opened your eyes & couldn’t make out any of your friends’ faces or see your boyfriend nearby you didn’t panic. Losing yourself among strangers & classmates alike was part of the fun. After all, finals week was over. Summer was here. College was almost over, just one year left. You weren’t the only one celebrating.

Everywhere you looked, you saw everyone wearing a shade of pink. It was Wednesday, & your boyfriend’s fraternity was throwing a ‘We Wear Pink On Wednesday’s’ to kick-off the summer break. The outfit you wore captured your personality well. Bold, sexy, confident. Dancing in your stiletto heels, rubbing your hands along the sides of your body, feeling as if everyone had their eyes on you, it kept you going. You could dance all night.

As you swayed, you felt warm hands fall on your hips. You grinned knowingly to yourself, pressing your back to the chest behind you. Sayyed nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his facial hair getting caught up in the strands. You giggled, spinning around to face him. He fought with your hair & you helped him remove it, trading smiles.

The music continued & the two of you danced for a bit longer with one another. This was one of the reasons you & Sayyed were so good together. He was a dance major & you just loved to dance every chance you had. Your energy was unmatched & your body language with one another couldn’t be stopped. He leaned into you & you let him, bending ever so slightly, looking as if he was melting into you. It was magnetic, seductive, empowering.

Once the next song finished though, Sayyed grabbed your hand & pulled you away from the main living room of the frat. Every corner you turned there was more & more people. Pi Kappa Alpha never failed at throwing a party & drawing the masses in. You were a member of their sister sorority, Alpha Delta Pi. You had been coming to PKA’s parties since rush week freshman year. It’s where you & Sayyed met.

Turning one last corner, Sayyed brought you into the kitchen which was just as crowded as the rest of the house. In here, however, were your friends. On one end of a beer pong table two of Sayyed’s frat brothers—Luka, Kai, & Bear—were losing pretty badly with more than half their cups still on the table. At the winning end of the table was Adrianna & Rafe. Nuha, Sayyed’s sister, stood behind them, roasting the opposing team.

On the sidelines, you marched up to Millie & Micah, your closest friends & roommates. Becoming a junior at the university had been the best thing to happen since you were finally able to move out of the sorority house. Millie had been your friend from high school & Micah was her bed buddy. The three of you got along swimmingly.

“Oh, c’mon guys!” Rafe teased, pointing at the boys across from him, “You’re getting your ass beat by a girl.”

Adrianna grinned proudly at that. Out of all the men at the table, Adrianna was certainly the toughest. She graduated high school a year early & applied to the NROTC. It was only in the last year that she began majoring in nursing. Medical, warfare, you name it & Adrianna could excel in it.

“She’s not a girl!” Bear, nicknamed as such for his appearance, playfully argued back, “She’s a goddamn military weapon!”

“Awwh, Boo Bear,” Nuha cooed, narrowing her tantalizing green eyes glowing mischievously, “Is mommy gonna need to read you to sleep tonight?”

“Only if you’re mommy.” Bear returned, winking, his flirtatious banter towards Nuha was never ending.

“Alright.” Sayyed interrupted, tossing Bear a warning, “That’s enough, make the shot. I want next game.”

Rafe & Adrianna cleared the table swiftly with their skills. Sayyed began re-setting, catching your attention, “Teammate?”

You made a face of disgust, “Yuck, no thanks. I’m a lousy shot, you know that. I’ll just be over here, ya know, drinking.”

Sayyed rolled his eyes but nodded, kissing you once before you crossed to the other side of the kitchen to peruse the alcohol options.

“What’s your poison tonight?” Rafe came up beside you, mirroring your perusal. You shrugged. Usually your go to was a cheaply mixed cocktail but you were thinking of switching to beer to avoid the intense sugar headache you’d surely get the next morning.

“What are you thinking?” You asked. Rafe Cameron was you in the male form. He too knew how to party, enjoyed being the center of attention, & could drink well into the daylight hours. You two bonded quickly over loud music, drunken fits of laughter, & rampant parties over the years.

“I’m just gonna do some shots. I don’t want to use my brain any more than I have to.” You laughed in agreement, watching as he poured you two a couple.

Rafe handed you the overflowing shot of tequila & you leaned forward to shoot it back, careful to not spill any on your clothes—though you were hardly wearing any.

“Woo!” You & Rafe yelled in unison, feeling the smooth burn of the tequila slip down your throat. He raised his hand, “Up high.”

When you went to smack his hand he lowered it, wiggling his brows, “Too slow, down low.”

“Fuck off.” You smiled pretending to turn & walk away. Then, before he could catch on to you, you spun around & smacked his hand.

“Goddamnit.” He gritted, shaking his head.

“Too slow.” You mocked, slipping away from him before he could try to out smart you. Along the way you snagged a beer out of a cooler & returned to Millie & the beer pong game.

The infamous trio lost yet another game as the Rahal’s kicked their ass. Sayyed & Nuha were as thick as thieves, making you envious of never having any siblings growing up. Your dad was a pilot, gone long & often. Your mom was self-medicated & kept to the dimly lit confines of her bedroom. College had been the long awaited escape you always dreamed of, & you finally found your own family on that campus.

It was almost one in the morning when you found yourself sitting on the front steps leading up to the frat house, kicking your heels off. You felt good. The alcohol left you buzzing. The only thing that would make the night even better at the moment would be if the sprinklers were turned on so you could run shamelessly through them.

People were spread out on the front lawn. Houses all up & down Greek row had people spilling out onto the street, stumbling everywhere. You laughed to yourself, enjoying the freedom & adventure that college was. All these people, just as drunk as you if not more so, hopping from one party to the next, totally free of any responsibility & milking the utters of their youth.

“Ha.” You giggled, leaning back to rest your elbows on the brick steps, “Utters.”

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” Millie appeared over your shoulder, dropping to her butt to join you.

“Mills.” You squeaked, gripping her slender legs & hugging them, “I really love you.”

“I love you, too, you lush.” She returned, patting the top of your head.

“I’m gonna name my daughter Lush.” You mumbled, smiling at the thought, “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah, yeah, & you’re gonna name your son Bitters.”

“It’s a theme.” You defended.

“One I know Sayyed will no way in hell support.”

“Whatever. He loves me.” You smirked knowingly.

“Hey guys.” Micah joined the two of you but didn’t sit, “I’m gonna head back, want a ride Mill?”

“Nah, thanks.” She rubbed your face, making you bat away your hands, “I gotta keep an eye on this one.”

“C’mon. Where’s Sayyed? Let him get her home. I want us to roll around before bed.”

You snorted at that, “Okay, okay, Mee-Kuh.” You slurred, stumbling as you stood, “Mills is all yours. I got my own rolling around to do.”

Millie & Micah traded looks before she gently grasped your arm, hooking it over her shoulders, “No way. You’re done. We got an early day tomorrow anyway. You’re coming with us & I will call Sayyed in the car.”

Though you wanted to resist, still having the urge to party & go all night long, your limbs felt heavy as your roommates carried you to the car. Once in, you lied down in the backseat, not bothering with a seatbelt. Micah had The Pixies playing on the stereo at a low volume. You faintly made out Millie on the phone with who you presumed to be your boyfriend.

Where Is My Mind? lulled you to sleep. Before you knew it, you were falling into a pit of comforting darkness.

FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE WORLD ENDED

Someone was shaking you.

You threw your hand out, batting it away, “No.” You groaned, your head throbbing at energy you used to produce the single world.

“_____, get up, sleepyhead. We’re already behind.”

You didn’t care. You couldn’t even remember why the hell anyone would be waking up this early. Millie knew better. After a night of drinking & partying, you were permitted to sleep well into the afternoon hours.

“Wake up, fishy!” She imitated, shaking you roughly.

“Mills, quit!” You could feel yourself growing irritable.

“Don’t make me resort to plan C.” The threat forced your eyes to pop open. You glared daggers at her, “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Get your lush ass up & I won’t.” She cocked her head, her hands on her hips.

You didn’t know what time it was, but as you took in her attire, you were confused by what she wore.

“What are you wearing?” You questioned, taking in her crop top, Levi cut-offs, & worn-through boots.

Millie pursed her lips, “Camping, dumbo. It was your brilliant idea for us all to go camping before we all went home for the summer.”

That couldn’t be right. “I hate being outdoors.” You whined, “You’re lying.”

“Believe me, I wish I was.” Millie seemed exasperated, “Now, seriously, get up. You roped me into this trip so you’re helping me load Sayyed’s jeep. I’m not doing it by myself.”

“Where’s Sayyed?”

She pointed to the door, “Watching the news with Micah.”

“Wake up or plan C goes into effect.” With that, Millie exited your room.

You groaned inwardly, feeling your stomach slosh as you sat up. Bile rose in your throat & you immediately cupped your mouth. Oh no.

Making a mad dash for your bathroom, you fell to your knees, slapping up the toilet lids in time for you to empty out your stomach.

After a minute or so, you felt a comforting hand on your back. You knew it was Sayyed. Reaching behind you, you gripped his jean clad knee in support. Once you were finished vomiting, Sayyed poured you glass of water to swish the taste out of your mouth before helping you stand.

“How you doin’, babe?” You could hear the slight amusement in his question, imagining that you looked quite funny at that point, but you shrugged, “Better.”

“Good.” He kissed your forehead, shifting you over to stand in front of the sink. He grabbed your toothbrush & toothpaste, applying the crème to your brush before offering it to you, “Brush your teeth, take a shower, we’ll be done loading the car by the time you’re finished.”

“Is it too late to cancel?” You moaned, dreading the idea of going without proper plumbing for who knows how long.

Sayyed smiling sadly, but cupped your cheek comfortably, “You can sleep the whole way. The whole trip if need be. It’ll be over before you know it.”

With that, he left you to your hangover. Doing as he said, you brushed your teeth—twice—then stood in the shower until Millie came hollering for you. Begrudgingly you climbed out of the shower. In your bedroom, you pulled out a cute yellow jumper & slipped into some old shoes from high school. You threw your hair up & moisturized your face, pointedly ignoring the bags under your eyes.

Once you were finished, you gathered some essentials for a to-go bag & hauled it over your shoulder.

In the living room, you stopped abruptly, confused by what everyone was doing. Your living room was filled with your friends, all of whom stared at the television as a news report sounded. You frowned, “What’s going on?”

Sayyed turned to you, a look of worry on his face. He brought you closer, his arm around you but said nothing as he turned his attention back to the TV.

Your mouth parted.

The reporter on the TV announced:

Again, that state of California is calling a state of emergency as an unknown air-borne virus rips through the state. The origin of the virus at this point in time is unknown, however, the first reported cases of it was in the highly populated city of Los Angeles. There have been a reported two thousand two hundred fifty six cases thus far since Monday evening with the number rising every hour. Surrounding states have closed their borders to anyone traveling from California in an attempt to isolate the virus. In a press statement earlier this morning, the Governor of California, alongside the guidance of the CDC, advised California residents & those traveling within the state to remain indoors, wear masks, & avoid social interaction at all times.

There have been no reported deaths thus far but we will have more at the top of the hour. For any information as this story develops, please visit the CDC official website.

“Jesus.” Adrianna muttered, immediately getting onto her phone, “COVID all over again.”

Everyone in the room groaned at that.

“No way.” Nuha rolled her eyes, “It’s one state. One. And it looks like they’re getting a handle on it. Nothing for us to worry about way down here in the sunshine state.”

“Besides,” Bear joined in, “Whatever the virus is, it’ll eat those left-wings first before it comes for us.”

“Bear!” Everyone reprimanded at once.

He rose in hands in defense, smiling, “Joking! Joking.”

“I thought it was funny.” Rafe shared lowly, slapping Bear’s arm. In turn, you slapped his, “Oh, shut up.”

“C’mon guys.” Sayyed clapped his hands together, “We got a lot of driving to do if were gonna find a decent stop. Gotta hit the road.”

Following Sayyed’s command, your friends began gathering their things, the news report fresh in their minds as they shuffled out of your apartment. The TV was turned off now but you continued to frown at it, “You really think it’ll be taken care of?”

Sayyed pondered your question before answering, “Who knows honestly. Before COVID made it stateside we all thought it wouldn’t make it here. But it did. There’s no saying. Every virus is different.”

You nodded, crossing your arms, “Maybe we should cancel. Listen to the CDC.”

“Okay.” Sayyed laughed softly, gently grabbing the sides of your face, “Remember when everyone panicked & overbought toilet paper?”

“Of course.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be that demographic, babe.” He kissed you once, looking into your eyes, “We’ll be okay. We beat COVID, whatever this thing is they’ll take care of it. Besides, we can’t stop living just because California is in the midst of an outbreak.”

You sighed, but nodded. “You’re right, you’re right.”

“I know.” He grinned, “Besides, it’s like Nuha said. This is Florida. We’re on the complete opposite end of the country. If it reaches us, we’ll be well prepared by then. Alright?”

“Alright.” You finally mustered a smile, the news report having chased away your hangover.

“I love you.”

“You.”

It was early evening by the time your group made it to your destination. Thankfully, you slept for most of the seven hour drive—though Rafe & Sayyed sped to save on time. Rafe hauled Luka, Kai, Bear, & Adrianna in his Ford truck with all the camping gear while Sayyed drove you, Millie, Micah, & Nuha in his wrangler, his trunk filled with the food & essentials. The sun wouldn’t set for a few more hours, which worked in your favor considering what was next.

“Alright, everyone grab a hold of something heavy, make it work, we’re a team.” Sayyed announced, taking the leadership role seriously, “We got about a twenty minute hike to the spot then we can chill.”

“Finally.” Luka groaned, opposite of his best friend Kai who was a geography major & picked the national park for you all to camp at. Kai beamed at the surrounding forestry.

“Smell that, Luka?” Kai teased, “That’s what folks like us who don’t spend all our time in the lit section at the library call ‘fresh air’?”

Luka made a face causing Kai to laugh.

You & Millie partnered up, loading your backs & arms with the lighter items while Adrianna & the boys carried the heavier items. Nuha was happy to be left with the remaining coolers that contained the food. Both coolers hand wheels with handlebars.

Sayyed led the way through the trees with Kai close behind, the latter pausing every now & then to take pictures. Every time he did someone in the group snapped at him to keep it moving. You managed the slightly inclined terrain well, glad you only wore a jumper & nothing more since you tended to sweat easily.

Finally, after what felt like an hour rather than twenty minutes, Sayyed led the group into a decent sized clearing.

“Here we are, guys!” Sayyed dropped the camping gear he had been carrying, everyone else quickly following suit.

“Oh nice, man!” Micah exclaimed, noting the nearby waterfall with a swimming hole underneath it. Then he began to undress, “Last one in is a rotten egg!”

You couldn’t help the squeal that rushed out of your body. A majority of you, though tired, were still high on the excitement of summer break. Micah had the right idea.

Quickly untying the strap of your jumper, you let it fall to the ground, sporting only your bra & underwear before slipping out of your shoes & taking off after Micah. The entire group then raced to the swimming hole, bodies jumping or belly flopping in.

The sun was still high in the sky, keeping the ten of you warm in the cool natural water. Belts of laughter, hollers & light-hearted screaming, surrounded you. You swam still in the middle, watching all your friends frolic amongst themselves without a care in the world.

The smile on your face couldn’t be contained.

The fire was going. Everyone was sitting quietly, talking amongst themselves. After swimming for a short while, everyone worked together to set up camp. There were so many tents to put up since a couple of the boys insisted on having their own space.

In one tent was you, Sayyed, Millie, & Micah. Nuha & Adrianna shared another, same with Luka & Kai, but Rafe & Bear brought their own single person tents. The clearing that Sayyed picked was perfect though. There was plenty of space to spread out & everyone was happy with the set-up. Sayyed & Millie got to work on preparing dinner while you & Rafe broke into the beer cooler. Fortunately, there was plenty to last everyone the next few days.

Once dinner was made, everyone chowed down, talking loudly over one another & cracking jokes. You rested your head on Sayyed’s shoulder, enjoying your meal. It was a simple dinner for the first night since arrival time had been late (your fault). But Millie was one hell of a cook & Sayyed was an excellent assistant.

By the time everyone finished, the alcohol really began to pour.

Most of the boys found sticks in the trees to play with, chasing each other in the dark. You & Millie laughed in amusement, the beer warming your stomachs on the gently chill night. Rafe sat on your other side, shaking his head at the antics of his frat mates.

“Idiots.” He muttered but was smiling.

You & Millie both rolled your eyes.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Millie commented, “Or did you forget why everyone calls you Roofie Rafe?”

Ugh. The nickname still made you sick to your stomach, knowing that anyone who heard it probably the worst immediately, but it was the total opposite that birthed the name. One night freshman year, Rafe had consensually roofied himself & found many stimulating ways to try to keep himself awake. Every two hours he would keep from passing out, he’d have to take another half dose. Impressively, Rafe lasted four hours before he finally crashed.

And ended up in the hospital. It was a scary night, but definitely one that would never be forgotten.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rafe smirked, shaking his head. His eyes met yours, leaning forward so only you could hear, “I got something for us.”

Your interest piqued ten-fold. Rafe always had the goods.

Making sure Millie’s attention wasn’t on them, Rafe subtly showed you a plastic baggie dangling between his fingers before he swiftly returned it to his pocket. He wiggled his brows at you.

Your heart skyrocketed. It had been a couple months since you last did coke. Sayyed tolerated the habit at the beginning of your relationship, but after spending a year together, he asked that you stop altogether or at least only do it once every now & then—if he was present.

Technically, this counted. You reminded yourself that you hadn’t touched the stuff in months & Sayyed was indeed present. But did you want to get up & stop the fun the boys were having to bring it to his attention. Your eyes looked at Rafe unsure, his eyes growing bigger waiting for an answer.

One bump wouldn’t hurt.

“Quickly.” You lowered your voice, placing your beer in the cupholder of the chair you sat in.

Rafe nodded, getting up from his chair, “I’m gonna go take a piss.”

Millie made a face but said nothing. After he disappeared behind you, you exhaled quickly, moving yourself, “I left my water in the tent, I’ll be right back.”

Fortunately, Millie said nothing, didn’t even look suspicious as you followed after Rafe. Unlike the majority of your friends, Millie was one of the few who didn’t get into party tricks. She stuck with beer & limited herself three a party. Out of everyone she was definitely the mother of the group. Same could mostly be said for Adrianna. Being a member of the military, she was 100% prone to partying, but when it came to the hard stuff, she was usually there being a voice of reason. It’s why you & Rafe had to be secretive around them.

In the dark, you whispered Rafe’s name.

“Over here.” He called softly. You held out your hands blindly, searching for him as you walked toward the sound of his voice.

A gentle hand gripped your wrist, pulling you closer. You laughed sheepishly, getting closer to him now that you were away from the warmth of the fire. Even though it was late April, it could still get somewhat cold out at night, especially for the southern folk who traveled seven hours north to camp in the mountains.

“Hurry, hurry.” You rushed, pulling out your phone but turning the brightness down so as not to draw attention to the drug commotion happening in the trees.

Rafe chuckled at your anticipation, pouring a little snow out on the fatty part of his hand. He raised it to you. You closed one nostril, leaning over his hand to inhale. The coke went as smooth as expected. You chapped your lips, licking them next. You could still feel a little bit of the grains in the back of your throat.

You sighed blissfully, waiting for Rafe do to his bit.

“That all you bring?” You questioned.

Rafe sniffed, wiping his nose before stuffing the coke back in his pocket.

“Yeah, can’t risk having more than this on me if we get pulled over, especially crossing state lines.”

“Pretty sure the criminal charge for holding is the same across the states.”

“Eh.” He shrugged, grabbing your elbow gently to lead you back towards the campsite. “Either way, I get caught with it & my dad will send me to military school.”

In the three years you knew Rafe, you had heard a lot about his father but never had the pleasure of meeting him—for lack of a better word. He sounded abrasive, domineering, cruel, careless. It made sense why Rafe turned to partying. You could relate a little. Your own parents were barely involved in your well-being.

“Guess we’ll have to clear it before we head back later, huh?”

Even in the dark, you could make out Rafe’s eyes twinkling, “I can always count on you.”

The two of you bumped shoulders as you both came out from the tree-line. Rafe ventured off towards the beer coolers. You were under the impression that you were about to make it back to your seat without raising any suspicions but then you heard your name being called.

“_____.” You paused, cringing to yourself. You knew that tone well.

Slowly turning on your heal, you spotted Sayyed standing under the cooking tent. His arms were crossed & his head was cocked in knowing disappointment.

You approached him, already slipping on your puppy dog eyes, “Baaabe.”

“Don’t even start.” He held up his hand, “What the fuck were you doing?”

You dropped the ‘please forgive me act’, easily transitioning to a defensive stance, “Having fun, Sayyed. It’s summer, I’m allowed to let loose.”

“You did last night. And this last weekend. Oh, & the weekend before that.”

Okay, so? You partied a lot. He knew that, he knew that before he even began dating you. That hadn’t changed.

“When are you going to grow up?” The insult had you rearing backwards.

“Are you serious right now?” You sneered, glaring at him, “It was one time & you’re acting like I’m in the woods fucking off my whole life.”

“You said you wouldn’t do it anymore.” He lowered his voice so no one could hear.

“No, I didn’t.” You countered, “I said I would do it less. And if you were around. Hello! You were less than twenty feet away from me.”

Sayyed sighed, running his hands down his face, “Ya know what, forget it. I don’t like talking to you when you’re like this.”

You scoffed, nodding your head, “Yeah, right, & what is that supposed to mean?”

“When you’ve been drinking, _____, you know that.”

“Oh, come off it.” You ridiculed, “I’ve had two beers & I’m not even buzzed. You know that.”

Not wanting to argue further, you stomped away from him, ignoring the curious looks as you returned to your seat, chugging the rest of the beer that sat waiting for you.

“You good?” Millie asked.

You shook your head but said nothing. You weren’t in the mood to talk.

Across the fire from you, Rafe met your eyes. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him too. It wasn’t his fault. You were entirely in control of what you decided to do, but goddamn him, too. Now, all you wanted to do was another bump to chase away the night.

ONE DAY BEFORE THE DAY ENDED

Fortunately, the next two days camping went by smoothly. Sayyed & you had made up, finding a hidden spot in the forest to have a quickie. Sex while camping was the least sexiest thing you could do but after you had done another bump—with Sayyed’s knowledge—your libido couldn’t be stopped. It was fast yet passionate. You came twice.

Everyone was enjoying the off-the grid activities: hiking to a look-out point to view the canyons, climbing the face of the waterfall, childhood games in the swimming hole, telling scary stories by fire. It was a lot of fun. Though you initially loathed the idea of camping, still finding it hard to believe you were the one to suggest it, you were sad to be going back to civilization the following morning.

Millie & you would be traveling south to the tail of Florida where your families were. Sayyed & Nuha would return to New York. And the others would jet off to their respective hometowns. It was a bittersweet end to the college year, but it’d only be a couple months before everyone reunited for senior year. A couple weeks before the start of the school year, Sayyed & Nuha would come to you in Southern Florida to visit before the four of you mobbed back to school.

Not seeing him during the summer months was typical but it didn’t make you miss him any less.

It was the last night & everyone had a lot to drink. You & Rafe finished off the baggie of coke a couple hours ago. Everyone started to crash around midnight but you & Rafe were still wired from the stimulant.

Sayyed had been the last to go to bed, kissing you once before crawling into the tent where Millie & Micah slept soundly. You were alone at the fire with Rafe. It was quiet, save for the crackling of the dying fire & the cicadas to fill the night.

Rafe polished off the rest of his beer. You remained in your chair, snuggled deep within one of Sayyed’s hoodies & a pair of sweats. You felt warm & fuzzy. The coke was making you smile at absolutely nothing.

Rafe chuckled beside you.

You flashed a wide-eyed look at him, “What?”

“You look drugged the fuck out.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, “Whose fault is that?”

Silence returned but it was a comfortable one. Rafe was one of the few people in your group of friends who didn’t feel the need to entertain conversation all the time. You loved every single one of your friends, but Rafe was special in the sense that he didn’t need to talk to have a good time. It’s one of the many reasons you two got along so well.

“Dreading going home?” Rafe asked, surprising you. You shrugged, “You?”

He mirrored your gesture. The two of you chuckled lightly.

“Believe it or not, I would much rather stay here.” You waved to the forest around you.

Rafe made a sour face, “Nah. Don’t get me wrong, camping & the woods & shit is cool, but I miss the coast. North Carolina kicks Florida’s ass any day.”

You scoffed, feeling the need to defend your home state, “North Carolina is filled with classist assholes, company included.”

He belted out a laugh at the insult. “I’ll drink to that.” Rafe cracked open another beer, taking a swig from it then leaned forward to challenge your statement.

“But I’d rather be a classist asshole than come from a state that produces the next wave of cracked out crazies in the headlines.”

You smiled proudly, “Free entertainment.”

“You laugh at the impoverished & I’m the classist asshole.”

“Oh, whatever.” You ignored him, “You supply them.”

“Touche.”

The fire was barely lit at that point, allowing the cool night chill to seep through your layers.

“God, I wish this didn’t have to end.” With that, you stood up, cracking your spine & stretching your limbs, “I’m going to bed. See ya in the morning, loser.”

“Back at chya.”

You approached your tent but turned to point at Rafe, “Put that out before you go to sleep. Don’t need to be the cause of the first wildfire this summer.”

“Yes ma’am.” Rafe replied sarcastically.

Unzipping your tent, your three companions slept. Sayyed was pressed against his side of the tent & Millie was cuddled up to Micah on the other side, leaving the perfect amount of space for you to slide in. As you did, Sayyed shifted, opening his eyes slightly. He said nothing but opened his arms for you to join him.

You gladly climbed into his sleeping bag. As quickly as he had woken up, he fell back asleep, his breathing light. His body warmed you quickly & you buried your face in his chest.

Not being able to this for the whole summer was going to be the death of you.

THE MORNING OF

The hike back to the cars was slow moving. For the first time, you were one of the few not hungover among your group of friends. Even Millie was rocking a headache. The packing had been quick & before you knew it everyone was following Sayyed back towards the dirt road where Rafe & your boyfriend parked off of.

You were standing in the bed of Rafe’s truck, taking items from others as they handed them to you. Everyone was sporting a yawn, eyebags, blotchy skin, or an annoyed expression. You had to hide your smile. It was nice not to be the one recovering for once.

There was little discussion among everyone as they hopped into either vehicle. You were just hopping out of Rafe’s bed, approaching the back of Sayyed’s wrangler when you heard hushed whispering. You paused. One of the voices was Sayyed’s.

Making sure none of the others were curious as to what you were up to, you lowered yourself to peek around the front of Rafe’s truck.

Behind Sayyed’s SUV was your boyfriend & Rafe. Sayyed had his back to you but you could easily make out Rafe’s face. He looked pissed. No, more than that. He appeared livid.

You couldn’t make out what Sayyed was saying but whatever it was, the more he spoke the more Rafe grew red in the face. He stepped forward then, practically brushing chests with your boyfriend as he said whatever he was saying. It was irritating you that you couldn’t hear what they were discussing but they were whispering for a reason.

Sayyed shoved Rafe in the chest. Not hard, but enough to send him back half a foot.

“Just fuck off, Rafe.” Sayyed finally said, his voice significantly louder, “It’s what you’re best at.”

With that, Sayyed circled around to the drivers side & got in, slamming the door. His wrangler shook with force. Rafe stared hard at the ground. From where you were crouched, you could see that his chest was heaving.

What the fuck?

It wasn’t uncommon for Rafe & Sayyed to have words with one another. They were both males with an alpha mindset so every now & then they would get into it but nothing ever bad enough to ruin a friendship between the two. However, as you watched Rafe fluctuate between different levels of anger, you were deeply concerned what could be happening between them.

Finally he moved. Approaching where you were hidden.

You quickly backed up to pretend you were finishing up with something in the bed of the truck when he appeared. At first he looked a little surprised to see you, but said nothing.

You couldn’t help frowning, “Everything okay?”

Rafe ignored your question, opening his door, “We’re late.”

Then he got in the truck, turning the engine on.

“_____!” Sayyed was leaning out of his window, “C’mon, lots of driving to do.”

You would let it go. For now. But the second you & Sayyed were alone, you were going to investigate.

It was about an hour into the drive back to civilization when things grew worse.

“What the hell?” Sayyed said. You had been resting your head against the window, your eyes closed with your earphones in listening to a podcast.

Everyone else in the car was sleeping.

You looked at Sayyed, about to ask him what was wrong when you followed his line of sight.

What you saw caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

On the on ramp to a highway, Sayyed slowed to a stop.

There were cars everywhere. But none of them moving.

“Guys.” You reached blindly behind you, unable to take your eyes off the sight, “Guys, wake up!”

The panic in your voice was enough to force the others awake.

“Jesus, what?” Micah groaned. Millie wiped the sleep from her eyes & Nuha leaned forward in her seat to peer out the windshield.

“What is that?”

“I don’t know…” Sayyed’s voice lowered.

Sayyed then put the car into park, hesitantly opening his door.

“No, what are you doing?” You hissed.

“Something’s wrong.” He told you, slipping out from under your grasping hands.

Nuha & Micah followed.

In the sideview mirror, you could see everyone piling out of Rafe’s truck behind you.

You twisted around to look at Millie, “What do we do?”

Millie looked as scared as you felt.

But once she made to move out of the car, you reluctantly followed behind her.

The ten of you stood around, staring in every which direction. All up & down the highway were hundreds of cars, bumper to bumper, some with engines still running. But there was no movement. No sign of anyone nearby.

“I don’t like this.” Bear commented, walking slowly closer to the nearest cars.

Behind you, you watched as Adrianna crawled into the passenger side of Sayyed’s SUV. She flipped on the stereo, cruising through stations.

“Hey, guys!” She hollered, “You might want to hear this.”

At her claim, everyone crowded around. She turned the volume.

This is a National Emergency Broadcast Alert. If you are hearing this, remain indoors. The unknown virus from California has spread across the United States rapidly. Over a million deaths have been reported & the number continues to rise. We are in a state of emergency. If you are in a heavily populated area your risk of exposure is great. Quarantine, isolate, stay in contact with the United States Military should symptoms occur.

This is all the information we have this time.

This is a National Emergency Broadcast Alert.

The message repeated. Adrianna lowered the volume.

“Oh, my god.” Nuha covered her mouth, her eyes watering.

“Check your phones.” Sayyed demanded. Most phones were dead but a few had charged enough within the hour long drive.

Kai pulled out his phone, “There’s no service.” He held it up, walking away from everyone to see if he could find any signal.

“Same.” Millie shared, her hands shaking.

“Can you call?” You asked, your voice matching her hands.

“No, no.” She cried softly, “Nothing is going through.”

Kai returned with no luck.

“What the fuck is going?!” Nuha cried.

“Calm down, sis.” Sayyed brought her into a hug, his eyes full of concern meeting your own.

“Guys!” Everyone’s head snapped in Bear’s direction. He had walked all the way to the other side of the highway, his back to you.

With rapid movement, everyone dashed between cars left abandoned to join where Bear stood.

A gasp left your mouth, your eyes blurring.

“I don’t think is COVID…” Bear’s voice was barely audible over the sound of blood rushing to your ears.

Below the highway, on a hill, was the horrific sight of hundreds of bodies. Men, women, children. You had to turn away when you saw a baby stiff in the arms of a dead woman.

“Sayyed.” Your fingers clung to the sleeve of his shirt, “What’s happening?”

He shook his head. There were no words that could be said.

“We need to go.”

You looked over your shoulder at Rafe. He was standing back from everyone, his face expressionless.

“Where, Rafe?” Millie questioned, “We don’t know where is safe, we don’t even know what the hell is going on!”

“The alert system to avoid populated areas.”

“So, what?” Luka spoke then, “We just don’t go home, man? We have families. We gotta make sure they’re okay.”

“Fine, okay.” Rafe doubled down, stepping forward to point at the bodies, “Wanna start there?”

Everyone was silent at that. When no one challenged him further he shook his head, “Think it’ll be different anywhere else?”

“We have to try, Rafe.” You spoke, your voice soft but firm.

Rafe was about to open his mouth, growing angry, but Sayyed spoke first.

“He’s right.” Sayyed said, swallowing but nodded with what Rafe suggested, “We can’t go anywhere populated. We don’t know how bad it is.”

“I think we have an idea.” Bear muttered, referring to the dead below.

“Look.” Sayyed began, “We avoid the main roads, we keep trying with the phones & stations, maybe we find a military base & get some answers. Either way. Whatever killed all those people did it fast.”

His eyes danced across the familiar faces, “It’s our only shot. Then maybe, maybe when we have more information, more of an idea how to protect ourselves, we move further south. But for now, Rafe is right. We can’t stay here, & we can’t go home. Not yet.”

Your heart faltered. Sayyed & Nuha’s family was in New York City. Their chances of survival… you couldn’t let yourself finish the thought.

“Alright, okay?” Though he was the voice of reason, you could hear the fear in his voice. You grabbed his hand, letting him know you were with him.

“Okay.”

A few of the others grumbled, Nuha was crying uncontrollably, Adrianna was staring at the bodies below. But no one challenged Sayyed or Rafe further.

“Let’s go.” With that, slowly everyone began making their way back towards the vehicles.

But Adrianna didn’t move. You approached her, placing a gentle hand on her arm, “We gotta go.”

“We’re not going to find anything.” Her voice was so quiet you barely made out what she said.

“We don’t know that.”

She shook her head, finally turning to look at you, “We’re already dead.”

Your lips parted, watching as she walked away, following behind the others.

She’s just scared, you told yourself but your gut churned. We’re all scared.

With one final look at the bodies below, you ran after the others, Adrianna’s words repeating over again in your head.

We’re already dead.

THE DAY THE WORLD ENDED

alrighty! the first chapter of my first full length series.

a reminder that i write for myself & myself does write porn w plot. this will be a slow burn series with lots of plot building, world building, character building, ect. if you're looking for straight smut i suggest looking elsewhere.

Rafe, as always with my stories, is the dark/non-con/18+/MDNI warning.

all that being said, The Day The World Ended (TDTWE) will be a universe series. Rise--Part One is Rafe & Reader. Summit--Part Two will be Ransom Drysdale & a different reader. And Fall--Part Three will be Billy Russo & yet another different reader. this whole universe will be my biggest project on here thus far.

so please show me your love & support any way you can! i look forward to hearing your thoughts.

thank you for reading! follow or requests to be added to the TDTWE or Rafe Cameron taglist to get update notifications.

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[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

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#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe #rafe cameron #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #non con fic #the day the world ended #rise part one

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cuddlepilefics · 6 months

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SKZ Season Greetings - 1

New Stray Kids sickfic series

Photoshoot

With many events lined up for Stray Kids to participate in, they had to split up their season greetings photoshoot. They did take their group photos within a small window of time, when all of them were able to meet at the decided location but they'd have to return over the course of the following week to have their individual shots taken. It was a little messy, especially for the staff organizing the outfits and make up but it was the only way they could make it work. That was how Changbin and Jeongin ended up heading to the outdoors location of their photoshoot together after getting their hair and makeup done at the company building. The weather was rather cloudy, which made things a little complicated as the photographer had to figure out the correct lighting but they were wearing their coats for as long as possible, so they'd be fine.

Slowly developing a bit of a chill, Jeongin lightly bounced on his feet to make sure he'd stay warm because he wouldn't willingly remove his coat to have his pictures taken if the wind got to him anymore than it already did. Changbin opened his coat and approached Jeongin, hugging the maknae from behind and wrapping his coat around both of them to keep him still. They had already had dance practice that morning and the younger would only end up sore and not really warmer if he kept moving like that. "You wanna go first?", the rapper offered, "I'm not really cold yet and you could go warm up once you're done." – "T-Thank you, hyung", Jeongin forced out between chattering teeth, nodding. Though he frowned at having to remove his coat, he did so quickly and stepped in front of the camera, eager to get it over with, while Changbin left for a moment to grab coffee for both of them.

Sipping his coffee had helped Changbin stay warm and he handed his dongsaeng the other paper cup as soon as he was done with his photoshoot. Jeongin shot him a grateful smile as he wrapped his stiff hands around the cup to warm them, careful not to spill any with how his hands trembled. Bundling up in his coat, the maknae sipped his coffee and watched Changbin posing for the camera while he slowly warmed up again. Now that Jeongin wasn't freezing his ass off anymore, he could see the beauty in the scene the staff had chosen though he still felt they should've been given more weather appropriate outfits. What he hadn't expected was for the skies to suddenly open and a merciless downpour to start. Everyone rushed to get the camera equipment and props somewhere dry, so nothing would get damaged. Jeongin pulled his hood up before running to help out and by the time him and Changbin had found shelter, the maknae's shoes had filled with water.

Jeongin frowned as he wiggled his toes within his wet socks before looking at Changbin. He gasped softly, realizing the rapper had been the only one not wearing a coat to protect himself from the rain. Changbin's previously neatly styled hair was plastered to his forehead now, rain still dripping down his face. With his clothes completely soaked, the rapper wrung out the lower part of his sweater and wiped his face before looking up. His heart still raced from the adrenaline but while he slowly calmed down, he felt the cold set in. By the time the adrenaline had worn off completely, the cold had seeped into Changbin's bones and although he had tried to dry himself off and keep moving, so he wouldn't freeze, it had barely helped. He was also unfortunate enough to not have a change of clothes with him because he had left them in the dressing room at the company building.

Seeing that they weren't going to continue with their shoot, the staff packed up the equipment, while their manager decided: "I'll drive you two back to your dorms. Please take a hot shower and warm up. Would be really inconvenient if anyone was to fall ill in the near future. Your schedule will continue with the next point in about an hour, so I'll pick you up and take you to the company building before that. Should be just enough time for a shower and a snack." Thanking him, Changbin and Jeongin got into the car, the rapper spreading his coat over the seat, so he wouldn't get the leather wet. Changbin was the first to be dropped off, barely able to open the car door with how hard he was shaking from the cold. He was glad when he finally entered the dorm he shared with Chan, Hyunjin and Jisung and headed straight to the bathroom. His skin tingled when the water hit him, his temperature perception completely off but the longer he stayed under the running water the more comfortable it became.

Changbin had had a hard time convincing himself to leave the shower but he knew he didn't have all day, especially not if he wanted to eat something before being picked up again. Dressed in his thickest sweatpants, the rapper slipped on a t-shirt and hoodie before making his way to the kitchen. He didn't have much time left but still wanted to have a hot meal, still feeling chilled to the core, so he made some ramyeon and texted Jeongin to see if the youngest was almost ready too. The makane hadn't taken nearly as long to shower as Changbin had and was already eating while he waited for his tea to steep. Figuring they might end up a little shivery for the rest of the day, Jeongin had prepared a large thermos, so they could share tea later.

The tea ended up highly appreciated because Changbin shuddered as soon as he stepped foot outside the dorm and the goosebumps didn't disappear even with the car's heater blowing on the highest setting, causing their manager to sweat. The rapper was quiet when they made their way to the studio to meet up with Chan and Jisung, feeling as though his energy had been drained completely by the earlier incident. His fellow producer of course noticed and Jeongin poured Changbin a cup of tea as soon as they arrived because he still shivered from time to time. "What happened to you?", Chan frowned as he took off his headphones. Seungmin had just finished recording his lines and left minutes before the pair arrived, so Jeongin could record. Shooting the maknae a grateful smile, Changbin wrapped his hands around the cup and muttered: "The rain hit right when we were doing the photoshoot and we got soaked completely as we tried to get all the equipment to safety. We took a shower and changed into warm clothes before coming here because there was no use finishing the shoot in that downpour." – "Well, Changbin-hyung was the one to really get soaked completely", Jeongin corrected softly, "For me it was just my shoes and the lower half of my pants but yeah, it was pretty cold and I figured we'd still be cold despite the shower, so I brought tea to make the rest of the day more bearable." Hearing that, Chan quickly adjusted the heating and told his dongsaengs to let him know if there was anything he could do.

While Jeongin did really well initially, his voice soon sounded strained and Chan asked him to take a break. Changbin made the maknae sip some of the tea, humming: "You feeling alright? Don't catch a cold." – "I'm okay", Jeongin smiled but gladly sipped the tea, "I'm just really tired, so I think that's why my voice sounds forced. It's like my body needed all its energy to keep up its temperature and now there's nothing left for anything else." – "Ah, I know what you mean", Changbin nodded, "Feeling incredibly rundown and sleepy despite barely doing anything?" The younger nodded, glad someone understood though the statement had Chan worried. Sure, he had noticed Changbin being rather withdrawn but having the rapper admit to the fatigue was more than he had expected. They could compensate for one sick member but if both of them ended up falling ill, things would be even more chaotic than they already were.

When Jeongin's next attempt at recording failed, Chan instructed: "I want you to take a break and rest your voice for today, Innie. Yeah, I know it's frustrating but it really sounds like you'd be hurting yourself if you try to force it. Seungmin should be only a few doors down practicing his lines, so maybe you can join him and memorize the lyrics." Sighing, the maknae agreed and got ready to leave. He had intended to leave the thermos because Changbin still seemed to be freezing but the older wouldn't let him. "The way your voice sounds, you need the tea a lot more", Changbin insisted, placing the thermos into the other's backpack, "Take care and don't be to hard on yourself, Innie."

"You know, the same goes for you", Chan reminded once the door closed behind their dongsaeng, "You look really unwell." – "I mean, yeah, I'm exhausted and my head's starting to hurt but that's about it", Changbin shrugged, running the cuff of his sleeve under his nose, "I'm like 90% sure that it will be fine after getting a good night's sleep but for now, it's meh...." – "Then take it easy for now, so it doesn't end up getting worse than 'meh'", the leader sighed sympathetically. Sure, none of them was very good at taking it easy but they couldn't take any chances right now, not with how many events were lined up in the upcoming weeks. Changbin also didn't have much of a choice when it came to taking it easy. With how tired he was, he had a hard time focusing and eventually accepted the painkillers Jisung handed him, hoping he'd have a better time if the headache improved but his mind remained hazy even after the pain got better.

Though he had been a little sniffly throughout the evening, it was only when Changbin got to his feet to finally go home for the night, that the congestion in his sinuses shifted, making it impossible for him to breathe threw his nose. With watering eyes, Changbin made his way to the car and rested his head against the window during the drive. He could tell where this was going and although his friends hadn't pointed it out again, he knew that they had caught on too. As Changbin got ready for bed, Chan stopped by for a moment. The Aussie didn't want to keep his dongsaeng up any longer but let him know: "Sure, it would get messy with our schedules but if you end up not feeling well, we will figure something out. I will talk to management for you, so if you end up really coming down with something, please tell me and don't go hiding it until you're in far worse condition." – "You wouldn't have had to bring that up", Changbin muttered as he folded back the corner of his blanket, "Thank you though. Surely hope I can just sleep it off but we'll see." Chan hummed in agreement, telling him to feel better before going to bed himself.

Changbin gave a stuffy sigh as he got under his blanket, pulling it tight in hopes that he might feel a little warmer then. He still hadn't been able to shake the chill and if he hadn't been exhausted to the bone, he probably wouldn't have been able to fall asleep at all. The medicine Jisung had given him had long since worn off and his head was pounding, the pressure in his sinuses only making the pain worse but he didn't want to get back up to take another dose. He could last till the morning and if it still hurt, he'd take something then.

It wasn't yet morning when Changbin awoke again, disoriented and unsure why exactly he had woken up. He was drenched in sweat, the sheets clinging to his skin as he sat up. Rubbing at his face, Changbin caught two rough sneezes in his hands and winced. He hadn't expected to be feeling this much worse in such a short time span but appreciated Chan's reassurance even more now because he doubted he'd be able to go to work the next day. His fears were confirmed when he got to his feet and his head swam. Stumbling a little, Changbin was eventually able to make his way to the kitchen and sip some warm water as he leant against the counter.

Having had a weird gut feeling, Chan had ventured out of his room again when he heard shuffling footsteps and wasn't too surprised to see if was Changbin. "You look awful, mate", the oldest hummed, startling the rapper so badly he almost dropped his glass. Apologizing, Chan rested his palm against his dongsaeng's forehead and mutter: "Well, I'm for sure going to call you in sick tomorrow. You're burning. When did it go downhill this badly?" – "I dunno", Changbin sniffled, massaging his temples, "Just woke up like this." – "Alright, how about we get you back to bed and I'll fetch you some cold medicine?", the Aussie offered, wrapping his arm around the other's shoulders. He cringed when he realized how sweaty his friend's back was.

Changbin was shocked how much effort it took him just to get back to his room and sighed when he found the damp sheets a tangled mess at the foot of the bed. "Here, sit", Chan instructed easing the rapper down on the edge of the bed before picking up the blanket. Leaning against the wall because sitting up by himself seemed way too draining, Changbin closed his eye and listened to his hyung rummaging around his closet. Chan had changed the sheet in no time, making sure his dongsaeng also put on a fresh shirt before heading to the bathroom to get the medicine while the younger settled back into bed.

Once Changbin was medicated and tucked back into bed, Chan headed to bed himself, knowing full well that the next day would be utter chaos.

#fanfic #fluff #comfort #fanfiction #sickfic #stray kids #sick #skz #snz #holiday #bxb #minsung #hyunlix #minsunglix #seungbin

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my-own-walker · 9 months

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Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

Life is broken up into a series of measurements. Depending on you, or what you may be looking forward to, you measure life differently. A measurement of days, hours, or minutes, or a measurement of miles, feet, and inches. You may measure life in smiles, or in frowns. You may measure it in meals, sleeps, or how many photos you've taken. These measurements culminate, like a jigsaw falling into place.

I, this particular semester, began measuring life in Calculus quizzes. One a week, now onto the third, three weeks of the semester done, thirteen weeks left.

Time was flying, but altogether staying utterly still. We were now in September, and it would only be three more quizzes until October. But at the same time, only three quizzes in felt impossible. So much had already happened.

The final whispers of summer drew quieter and quieter. It was a peaceful transition, as warm days never really ceased in Louisiana. There was an unmistakable feeling in the air, though. And leaves fell from trees here and there, reminding me of time's passing.

This week's quiz was no different than the last, though I did feel confident on at least two questions of the ten. I was really riding on this end-of-semester project to go well in order to save my grade. At this point, I wasn't even interested in getting an A in the class. I just wanted to pass. I didn't look at Kyle's answers this time. In fact, I couldn't. He didn't come to class.

I had my poetry class before my Calculus class on Fridays. I handed in my poem for grading and prayed Kyle's advice would come through. His efforts were not futile, because my professor actually liked it a lot. I was going to let him know during Calc, but it wasn't to be, I guess.

I got home to a bustling apartment. Lily had a speaker playing her music on blast throughout the space. "Bound 2" off Kanye West's new album. I kicked off my shoes by the door and hung up my bag. She stood, rather, danced in place, in the kitchen as I moved further into our shared apartment. It looked like she was making something, but I couldn't make it out.

"Lily Davies!" I half-gasped, half-exclaimed, sneaking up behind her. She jumped about a mile up in the air and squealed. "Are those Jell-O shots?!"

"Fuck you!" she shouted, turning to smack my arm. "You scared me!"

"I can tell."

She spun to her right and grabbed her phone off the counter, working quickly to turn the music's volume down. "You can't sneak up on me when I have my pregame playlist on," she huffed.

"Oh no, we're pregaming?" I groaned, leaning over a clear space on the counter. "Jesus....take me now..." I put the back of my hand on my forehead and leaned back, feigning genuine pain. Lily picked up a measuring cup full of neon green liquid and began pouring it into small shot cups.

"Were you not listening yesterday when I told you about tonight?" she replied, annoyed. "When you were about to leave for your study date."

"It wasn't a date. And obviously not," I shrugged, grabbing a box of cereal from the pantry. "Help me understand, my beautiful roommate." I hopped up to sit on the aforementioned clear spot on the counter and stuck my hand into the box, grabbing a handful of Cheerios to snack on.

"KLG is hosting for once. It's a mixer with Pi Phi and them. It's a bonfire. Leon's band is playing," she explained, pouring the last of the Jell-O mixture. "Do you remember now?" She put the measuring cup down and wiped her hands on her pant legs. "I can't be fucked to put these in the fridge. I hope they set in time," she added.

"How are you getting them there?" I asked through a mouthful of cereal.

"I'll drive," she answered simply.

"No, you will not," I declared, turning to put the cereal box down next to me. I swallowed before continuing. "I know you. You'll drink and I'll have to drive home."

"Okay? And?" she challenged.

"I hate driving!" I whined. "And what if I want to drink, too?"

Lily leaned back on the counter and thought for a moment. She picked up her phone and scrolled through for a second, trying to find a solution. "Sarah can drive us," she spoke after a second. "I just remembered she offered in the group chat earlier. Let me text her."

"Oh, thank god," I sighed. "I was not about to take the bus or some shit." I got down from the counter and put my cereal away, careful not to leave anything in Chef Lily's way. She stayed put, texting for a while before exhaling sharply and shoving her phone into the waistband of her leggings.

"I guess we should go get ready so we can start drinking," she groaned.

"Yes, chef," I shouted, faux-saluting her. She walked over to me and smacked my ass as she passed.

"Let's get fucked up! Woo!" she yelled, punctuating it with a laugh.

I settled on a black and brown plaid sleeveless dress with sheer black stockings, a lightweight brown cardigan, and my black Doc Martens to wear. I made my eye makeup dark and heavy to match, as well as a smear of brown lipstick over my lips. I figured a bonfire party needed a smoky look to match. At least, that's what Lily shouted to me when I asked her what I should wear.

She took that advice in a different direction, as did all of the other girls there. She wore a tight black tube top and a black skater skirt that barely covered her ass. Her hair was straightened, and her makeup the same as it always was. To each their own, I presume.

The party was entirely outside. I assumed that it was to create a loophole in case any bad incidents happened at the gathering. "Well, it wasn't inside the house!"

KLG was an intimidating frat. I was less scared, though, considering I had just been there the day prior. Since this was a mixer, Lily's sorority was, in part, also hosting, hence her making Jell-O shots.

We walked around the back, entering through a side gate into the expansive backyard. It was absolutely mobbed. I had a feeling this party had been crashed by people who were not members of either the frat or the sorority. One of them being namely, me.

A patio-turned-stage sat just next to the house. The band was already up there tuning their instruments. For the time being, some shitty pop music played over the largest speaker I had ever seen. String lights hung just above the stage, lighting it relatively well. They were more than likely added By Pi Phi, not Kappa Lambda Gamma. "A woman's touch," as some would say.

I followed Lily to a table set up toward the far end of the backyard. There, we found an absolute array of bottles and cans of alcohol. She placed her homemade shots in an empty space on the table and smiled at her handiwork.

"They keep the drinks as far from the house as possible when it's an outside party," Lily shouted to me over the music. "That way people won't go in by mistake."

I nodded in reply, pretending I understood. If the drinks were closer to the house, people would see them better and not mistakenly walk in. But what did I know? I wasn't a frat guy.

I turned to look at the band, who had started to play a cover of "Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys. It seemed a bit alternative for this crowd, but I wasn't going to complain. In fact, I wished they'd continue to play my kind of music. And just like that, I lost Lily. I had only looked at the band for a beat, but she was a live wire around her sisters.

There was no need for me to feel like a babysitter at this party. Lily's sorority sisters could look after her, which meant I could get as drunk as I'd like. I turned my attention back to the drink table and scanned the selection until I found something that tickled my fancy.

Some hours and some change later, I had polished off an embarrassingly large number of drinks. I would disclose how many, but I don't quite remember. I worked my way through the yard to the giant bonfire on the left side of the yard. I stared blankly into the fire, listening to the band play some song I couldn't quite make out.

The party had reached critical mass. It was almost impossible to move, even around the bonfire. I stayed put, trying to shake off the drunkenness so I could go find Lily.

"Hannah Martin," a male voice said behind me. I whipped my head around, startled by the sudden interaction. Kyle stood directly behind me, nearly touching me.

"Kyle Spencer," I replied, too drunk to think of a witty response. He smiled and laughed a bit, casting his eyes down at his shoes. "I missed you in class today," I slurred. "I had to tell you something."

"Oh yeah? What was that?" he asked, raising one eyebrow and smirking.

"My poem. The teacher liked it," I explained. "Thanks." I wasn't very eloquent in this impaired state. I shifted away from the fire, feeling I had started to sweat a bit from its heat. A person immediately shifted into my former spot. It was nearly impossible to breathe, let alone move around.

"Oh, I'm glad," Kyle smiled. "I gotta make up that quiz."

"No school talk," I groaned, placing a hand on his bicep. "I'm not in my right mind right now."

The crowd in the yard shifted, causing people to begin to bump into each other. The person standing next to me stepped back into me, bumping into my arm. Losing my footing, I stumbled into Kyle, nearly pulling him over. His drink collided with my chest, the cup's entire contents spilling down my dress. All I could do was laugh.

"I should not have had that last beer," I chuckled, steadying myself with my hand flat on Kyle's chest.

"Oh shit, Hannah, I'm so sorry," he gushed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm cool," I giggled, bending over slightly.

"God, come inside," he muttered, grabbing me by my shoulders and turning me around to face the house. "Let's go." He guided my drunken form through the crowded backyard all the way to the back door of the KLG house.

"Aw damn, Spencer's gettin' some," the guy guarding the door shouted stupidly. "Hot piece 'a ass you got here."

"Shut up and let us in, Dan," Kyle snapped, still holding me by my shoulders. The guy, whose name was apparently Dan, stepped aside, allowing Kyle to open the door and guide me in.

We walked through the kitchen, dining room, and living room to get to the foyer, where I was met with the now-familiar steps up to his room. They would prove to be a challenge this time, though. Kyle held my arm as we made the trek up the steep stairs. It felt like we had been walking for hours.

Finally, in Kyle's bedroom, I could gather my bearings. So much had happened in such a short span of time. And how the fuck did I find myself in Kyle Spencer's bedroom two nights in a row? I sat on the floor and gripped the carpet tightly, feeling the fibers between my fingers. The world spun. I held the carpet tighter so I wouldn't fall off the Earth.

Kyle rummaged through his dresser and turned, having found a large t-shirt for me.

"I know you're in a dress," he noted, "but I think this should be big enough to act like one."

"I wear shorts under my dresses," I slurred, screwing my eyes shut.

"Oh, okay, that's good," he muttered. He tossed the shirt toward me. It landed with a fwump to my right. "Change into it. I feel so bad, you're soaked."

I looked down at myself. He was right. The entire front of my outfit was drenched with whatever Kyle had in his red solo cup. Without a thought, I shrugged my cardigan off and tugged my dress over my head, leaving me in just my spandex shorts and a bra. I watched as Kyle paused, for a moment, almost as if he couldn't look away. His cheeks turned a bright pink before he averted his gaze respectfully. I slipped the soft t-shirt over my body.

"You can look now," I said, smartly. Kyle turned and smiled at me kindly. He stepped over to me and extended a hand.

"Please, at least sit on my couch," he pleaded. "It's comfortable, I promise."

I grabbed his hand and let him help me up. Both of us settled down on the couch, which was rather big for the size of the room. I pulled my legs up, hugging my knees tight to my chest. "Thanks, Kyle," I murmured.

"You're in bad shape, huh?" he replied.

"I don't remember the last time I was this drunk," I admitted, sobering a bit.

"It's okay, it happens."

"Why weren't you in class today?" I asked after a beat, a bit more bluntly than I had intended. Kyle shifted in his seat a bit uncomfortably.

"It's a pretty long story, Hannah," he replied lowly. "Everything's okay, though. Gave me more time to get ready for tonight, right?" I didn't reply. Instead, I put my head back on the couch. The action took the pressure off my heavy head. The music continued to play loudly outside, the bass shaking the house.

Kyle stood abruptly. "Do you need anything?" he asked, standing over me.

"I'm fine." I covered my face with my arm, burying it in the crook of my elbow.

"I'll be right back, okay? Don't move," he instructed. I heard his footsteps get further from me, the door open, then shut, and the lock latch. I uncovered my eyes and looked around, alone in Kyle's room. The noise outside hadn't subsided. It seemed this party might go all night.

It was supposed to be a small gathering between two Greek organizations and turned into an all-out rager. Pretty typical Kappa Lambda Gamma activities, honestly.

Only a few minutes passed before Kyle burst back into the room, water bottle in hand. The whirlwind with which he entered only made my head spin more.

"Drink this," he said, handing me the open water. I did as he said as he rejoined me on the couch. "Are you okay?"

"I am," I answered, sitting forward on the edge of my seat. "I really should go, though."

"Do you have a ride?" Kyle asked, sitting up slightly. "I can't let you go back out there alone like this."

"I should find my friend," I insisted.

"I think you should stay here and text her," he countered. "Agree on a place to meet. Where's your phone?"

That was a good question. I remembered leaving it somewhere, but I couldn't quite place where. Kyle must have seen the concern flash across my face because he put a hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay, Hannah, I can find it," he assured me. I flopped back and turned my head to face him, looking into his deep brown eyes. He looked at me with pity. Before I could stop myself, I leaned over and rested my forehead on his right shoulder.

It must have been a reflex. Kyle responded by rubbing my head with his free hand. I sighed and relaxed into his touch, feeling all too tired all too suddenly.

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#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #ahs coven #kyle spencer #kyle spencer fanfic

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farfromstrange · 2 years

Text

Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter twenty-six: Black Out Days

Read part XXV here ° series masterlist ° work masterlist

Summary: The team follows its designated plan. Natasha talks real with her friend, Clint talks real with Matt and Eliza chooses to forgive the Avengers for lying to her. Though the relief is only temporary when Eliza decides to let her dark side take over, and Matt is having none of it. This might be the end of their relationship altogether and perhaps even the end of herself.

Warnings: ANGST, canon-typical violence, Eliza (finally) snaps

a/n: Every time I write angst in capital letters you know it's serious and it is going to hurt. (Edit: Also I met Charlie today?!?! Wtf still can’t believe it) Thank you, you can carry on now.

“Okay, on a scale from one to ten, how tired are you?”

Natasha chuckled at her question, shuffling the stack of cards in her hand. The group of six sat at the table in the main room, just next to the kitchen. Beer bottles, full and empty, littered the top, surrounded by chip crumbs and empty chocolate bar wrappers.

Eliza popped another peanut into her mouth. “I’m serious, rate yourselves!” she said. “How tired are you?”

“I’m a constant two,” Natasha replied. She switched the stack from her left to her right, sliding the top card off and placing it face-down in front of Clint, who was sitting next to her.

He moved the piece of cardboard a little closer to himself, having played this game several times before and knowing damn well his friends were nosey cheaters.

“I’m a seven,” Bruce said. As so often, his fingers fidgeted with each other. “You know, the clinical depression kind of does the trick.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s the other guy?” Eliza smirked. She’d had about two beers too many, her head lulled into a comfortable fog, but not so much that she was no longer lucid. The sleep deprivation mixed with the alcohol into a rather toxic cocktail.

Bruce chuckled awkwardly. “Pi.”

“Pi?”

“Yeah, pi.”

“What’s Pi again?” Clint questioned, albeit jokingly. “Three point something? I don’t know.”

“Three point five period something, I think,” said Natasha.

“Wow,” Tony who just entered the room with a glass of Scotch and his sweatpants on eyed the group with judgy eyes, “Your math skills are blowing my mind.”

“Tony, so great of you to join us! You wanna play?”

“Poker with you?” he said. “Please, I’m already rich enough.”

Eliza laughed at that, pointing her finger at him. “That’s funny ‘cause we all use your bank account, so no matter how any of us play, your balance is gonna suffer,” she said.

He pouted into his glass. “Yeah, I’m aware.” Finally stopping his pacing, he lowered himself into the free chair left empty just for him. “Alright, I’m in. What’re we playing? Texas Hold Em? Stud? Razz? Uno?”

Natasha continued handing out the cards clockwise until each player had two in front of them. “If we were playing Uno, would I be shuffling poker cards?” she teased.

“Who knows? I considered buying the company to, you know, adjust the rules ‘cause the actual rules to Uno are bullshit, but Pepper told me not to.”

Eliza frowned, the beer swaying slightly as she threw her arms back. “No one plays Uno by the rules!” she said.

Clint peeked at his cards, not moving a muscle yet satisfied with his hand, then returned his attention to his friends. “Zero point five,” he blurted.

“What?”

“That’s how tired I am.”

“Why are we all using uneven numbers? I said on a scale from one to ten.”

“Zero point five is between one and ten, last time I checked.”

She groaned. “You’re all so boring.”

“Oh, yeah? How tired are you?” Steve quipped.

All eyes turned on him. “Well, he’s still here,” Clint said. That earned him a series of laughter.

The captain sighed. “I just like to keep quiet and observe.”

“Up until now I literally thought you were a statue,” said Tony.

“Fossil,” Eliza corrected.

“Yeah, that makes so much more sense.”

Natasha placed the five open cards in front of her before checking her hand. She had no obvious tells. With her, you had to dig deeper to figure out what she was hiding.

Steve took a look at his cards. Eliza instantly slapped the table. “Cap just scrunched his nose! He’s gonna fold.”

“Aw, man!” He placed the cards back down on the table. “Playing with you is no fun.”

“We haven’t even started and she’s calling all the bluffs,” said Clint. Though as he spoke, his eyes crinkled. “Natasha, that’s your fault. You taught her that.”

“Me?” the redhead exclaimed. “No, no, that was all Tony.”

“Barton’s going all in,” Tony said as if to prove their point. “There, called it! Saw his cards.”

He rolled his eyes, throwing his cards into the ring. “Yeah, I’m out.”

“Boooo,” Eliza called, taking a sip from her beer.

“Banner is also gonna sit this one out.”

“I wasn’t…” Bruce chuckled. It was of no use. “Yeah, you caught me. I’m out.” He shoved his cards back on the table.

Natasha watched the scene unfold with amused eyes. Once everyone had left the table, only she, Eliza, and Tony were left. The latter picked up his cards, squinting his eyes to read them better.

“Inner circle,” she stated. “Like old times.”

Eliza tried her hardest to hold back the smartass comment that lay on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t help it. “Tony just smirked,” she said.

He glared up at her. “Yeah, that’s annoying,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna play anymore.”

She waved giddily as he got up, walking as dramatically as possible, and disappeared into the hallway where everyone else had gone.

“Way to ruin game night,” Natasha said.

“I didn’t ruin anything. We’ve all been up for almost eighty hours. I can’t help it that the lack of sleep only makes me smarter.”

She smirked. “You wanna play Uno, don’t you?”

“YES, UNO!”

“C’mon, get the cards.”

But Eliza was already up and at it the second the words left her mouth.

The sight of her friends at the old wooden table at Fogwell’s maneuvered her back to less dark times. Times in which they had been happy and free, a happy little family. Game nights together, sometimes just Natasha and her, but more often than not the entire group of the Avengers scattered around a table and played silly little board games. She missed it. Now the sight only brought on nausea, the table was no longer filled with games but with weapons of a great variety, and the people around it weren’t dressed casually in their pajamas but in their professional work attire, suits, and steel boots.

The cold end of a plastic bottle nudged her bare shoulder. She looked up to see Matt standing next to her, already wearing his Daredevil suit, minus the mask, which allowed her to get a good look at his eyes. He didn’t even try to meet hers, once again a reminder that they weren’t together anymore. They hadn’t been a couple, really, but they hadn’t been friends either. What they had, had been perfect and now it was just gone. The word was absolute. They were over and their relationship was gone. Gone, dead, gone.

She took the bottle, nodding curtly. “Thanks.”

“You’re not drinking enough. You haven’t even touched the food we ordered last night. Not- not that I care, but if I did, I would ask you if you were alright.”

He was so bad at this.

“I’m fine,” she told him. It was a lie, but her heartbeat remained the same as always; steady and unique.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” he once again said, handing her (ironically) a chocolate bar. “Your blood sugar’s low. Eat this, drink your water and then come back to the table. We have work to do.”

She reached for his hand. “Matt,” she called out. “Thank you.”

He left without saying a word, not even squeezing her fingers the way he usually did. She couldn’t help herself either, as it seemed.

Eliza finished the chocolate bar, downed the bottle of water, and then followed Matt’s command to join the team at the round table. She cleared her throat. “So, what do we got?” she jumped in.

The Avengers glanced at her, surprised she even showed up in the first place.

“Weapons,” Natasha stated.

“Cool. What else?”

“Are you okay?” She eyed her.

“Yes, why?”

“You don’t look okay.”

“Then stop looking.”

Steve eyed them. “We’re creating a battle strategy,” he stated. The change of subject was more than welcome. “Since it’s Sam’s friend, we’re taking the non-invasive approach. But just in case things go south, I want to assign teams.”

“What could go south at the mayor’s office?” Matt questioned. “It’s not like we’re fighting criminals or anything.”

“No, but we have to protect our identity. This will be of no use to us if the police or Secretary Ross get wind of our presence here in New York, let alone Eliza’s whereabouts that everyone wants to know.”

Sam stepped around the corner where the locker room was. He straightened his suit, the closed wings sticking out of his back. “I’m gonna get him to join us on the roof,” he said. “We’ll use the safety of sundown so we can move more freely since, you know, we’re all fugitives.” His eyes fell on Matt, “Minus one.”

“Thanks,” he answered sourly.

“Eliza and Nat,” Steve called out, “You two will wait on the roof of the mayor’s office.”

“Why us?” Eliza asked.

“You have similar skill sets.”

“I have similar skill sets with everyone. Let me work with Matt.”

“No, Matt is going to work with Clint,” he said. His answer sounded final. Whenever he was in charge, the soldier in him came to the surface, peeking his head out and tearing everyone around him with him.

She was used to taking orders during missions. She was more than vulnerable to his commands, so when he said his words with such authority, she didn’t waste another breath to question them.

Clint tightened the strap of his bow, putting more pressure on it. “That’s cool with me,” he said.

Matt nodded. “Yeah,” he said. Anything but working with Eliza. He couldn’t deal with that. He would only be distracted the entire time.

“You two will be standing by on the opposite roof. Clint knows how to shoot if the need arises.”

His features hardened.

“If,” Steve emphasized. “I’m not big on murder either, don’t worry. It’s just a safety measure to get us out if we need to.”

“So what will be my role in this?” Matt asked.

“You’ll be my ears,” Clint stated. “I’ll be the eyes, you can use your enhanced hearing and whatever else you have in store to stay alert. There are things even I can’t pick up on, even with an earpiece in. That’s where you come in.”

“Yeah, I don’t need an earpiece.”

Clint stared at him, he could feel it.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just asking myself what rock you’ve been hiding under all this time.”

“My apartment,” Matt deadpanned.

“Yeah, that’s a rock,” said Clint.

“As I said, the Avengers are not my thing.”

“One of them is,” Sam muttered under his breath. Eliza kicked him. “Sorry.”

Clint wasn’t going to stop with his recruitment plan, even though there was nothing left to recruit him for. For whatever reason, he had grown to like Matt, primarily because of his abilities but also for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Look, all I’m saying is, we could have used another pair of ears in some of the missions we’ve been on because mine don’t exactly count. I’m just good at shooting things from a distance.”

“Well, there's a reason they call you HawkEYE and not HawkEAR.”

The team was seriously taken aback at the joke. That was the thing about Matt Murdock; he had this brooding attitude about himself, a dark, guilt-consumed facade that hardly ever smiled around people (or so it seemed), so most people misjudged him greatly. Matt Murdock could crack a mean joke. Though sometimes in the most inconvenient situations, he knew how to make people laugh. He was fun. People hardly got to see the man his friends got to see - and Eliza had seen even more than Foggy and Karen, the carefree Matt, the one who liked to giddy laugh, sometimes even giggle. This was the Matt she missed with all her heart, and he was right there, she just couldn’t touch him. It was torture of her own making.

She was the first one to snort. She tried to bite back the laugh, but she couldn’t. Everyone else stared at her. She even had Matt’s attention, who seemed relieved that at least someone reacted positively. “I’m sorry,” she said and slapped a hand in front of her mouth. “I’m sorry. Not funny. Sorry.”

“No?” Matt turned to Clint. He shook his head. “Okay.”

“It was a good joke.”

Stop being so goddamn lovable, he cursed over and over in his head. He couldn’t move on, not like this, probably not ever. This was worse than anything he had ever felt. Not the rejection, the love. Love is a fickle thing as it is, but to Matt, this particular emotion tore him apart from the inside. It consumed him whole. Once again not because she rejected him but because he had never loved a person this much before and it scared him. It scared him because even though he sprung it on her, he was just as scared to admit it. Yet, he did. He would do so over and over again. He did, he did love her. He was scared of how far he was willing to go for her.

Steve let out an exasperated, prolonged sigh. “Now that that’s out of the way,” he said. “We have Liz and Nat, Clint and Matthew, that leaves me and Sam. Foggy is back at the apartment, safe and sound. If we need help from the outside, we call him.”

“But that’s highly unlikely,” Eliza finished for him.

“Yes, very.”

“No, I’m serious. He’s been involved enough. He almost died last night because of me and I can’t… I don’t want him involved in this too. The line ends here. He’s safe at Matt’s apartment and he’s gonna stay this way. That’s my final decision.”

“I agree with Eliza,” said Matt from the other side of the table. She looked at him, smiling almost thankfully. “Foggy’s been through enough because of me-”

“Because of me,” she corrected him. “Don’t protect me, not now.”

“I’m not protecting you. It’s your fault too, more than mine, but I’m taking it on my shoulders because he’s my friend.”

“Yeah, well, he’s my friend too.”

“Circumstantial. He was my friend long before you came along.”

“Oh, so you want to get him in the divorce? Fine! I’ll just tell Foggy you’re treating him like a piece of meat.”

“Oh, I am?” he raised his eyebrows. “You seem to be collecting friends like dolls on your stupid little shelf and every time someone gets put up on that wall, they get hurt. They’re broken like porcelain and you still collect them.”

Natasha stepped in front of her in all of her intimidating glory. “Careful,” she warned him.

“No, he’s right,” her voice sounded dull as she spoke, “People do get hurt once they’re close to me,” she said. “You can be glad you pulled out. You know, before you turn into one of those broken dolls on my shelf.”

She didn’t cry, she didn’t even move a facial muscle. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen. He was angry, he wanted to coax a reaction out of her, any reaction, just so he could find a reason to hate her, but nothing happened. She simply agreed with him. She didn’t run out crying, she stayed and she didn’t care. The Eliza he knew was gone and part of him believed it was his fault.

She straightened her shoulders out. “Where were we?” she asked.

And at that moment he knew, she was completely dead inside.

At the mayor’s office, the teams took their positions. Eliza played with the loose threads on her old suit pants. The leather was uncomfortably tight. It stuck to her skin in all the wrong places. Natasha leaned against the wall on the opposite side, arms crossed and one foot angled against the stones.

“You’re gonna talk to me at all?” she asked eventually. “Or are you just going to give me the silent treatment all night?”

“Leave her alone, Natasha,” Clint jumped in over the earpiece.

Eliza only shook her head, staying quiet.

“I’m just trying to fix this,” Natasha said.

“Pressuring her won’t work.”

“Pressuring her is just going to make her shut down,” Matt’s voice filled her ears.

What was wrong with him? He either treated her like crap or he defended her, there was no in-between. She hurt him, yes, but that offered no excuse for his behavior. He was acting like a dick. She deserved the silent treatment, maybe even snarky remarks, but not this. Even she knew she didn’t deserve this.

Natasha tilted her head. If there was one thing she was good at it was reading her. Eliza met her eyes. She sighed. “Alright, earpieces out,” she said.

She took her earpiece out.

Eliza pointed to her ear, then to the opposite roof. Natasha nodded. The next time she opened her mouth, the words flowed out in Russian.

“Okay, what’s going on?” she asked.

“I honestly don’t know anymore.”

“You can talk to me about everything, you know that, right?”

“I know and I’m trying to forgive you because you are like a sister to me, but it’s hard.”

“Okay, I get that. I will work to regain your trust.”

“I trust you, I just… I feel betrayed, Nat.”

“I know and I’m sorry.”

“Matt told me he loved me,” she said instead of acting on her apology more. It would repeat itself until she believed her.

Natasha sighed, “I know.”

“I didn’t say it back.”

“I know.”

“Do you think I’m broken?”

“What? Oh, sweetie, no.”

She scoffed almost sourly. “He called me that during sex,” she told her.

“Okay, gross! I am never calling you that again.”

Natasha chuckled first. Eventually, Eliza joined in. She sat down next to her on the ledge of the roof.

“Thanks, appreciate it.”

“So, uh,” she wiped her runny nose, “You’ve been getting into it since we last saw each other.”

She snorted. “Shut up.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I’m just surprised that you chose him out of all people. He is so not your type.”

“We were desperate.” She paused. “And he’s, like, really good-looking.”

Natasha couldn’t deny it. “Yeah, he is.”

“And the sex. God, the sex was so good!”

“How good?”

“Mind-blowing, leg-shaking good.”

“Man, I need to get laid.”

“It’s hard as a fugitive. That’s why I slept with Matt. I think. I don’t know. Maybe I do like him. I mean, I know I do,” she said, “I care so much about him it makes it hard to breathe. But I don’t know how to love. That’s the truth. So I can’t say it back when I don’t understand what I’d be saying back, you know. I think I was not falling in love, I was just falling to my demise.”

Trying to be comforting, Natasha patted her shoulder. “We’ve all been there.”

“Have you? Have you really?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Have you ever established such a deep emotional connection that your powers make you want to stay close to him at all times, and when you can’t have that your throat dries up and your heart hurts so much you just shut it off?” With every word, her voice grew sharper. Her rage consumed her. All Natasha could see was the fire in her friend’s eyes. Her sister.

She kept her hand on her shoulder, rubbing to comfort her in any way. Not sure how far she could go with Eliza still mad at her, she applied more pressure until her arm slipped around the girl’s shoulders.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said softly. “Maybe not now or tomorrow but once this is over. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to figure this out. You’re Eliza,” she said, “And you’re always going to crawl back from whatever hellhole life throws you into. You always do.”

For the first time since she returned, Eliza smiled at her and all her anger vanished into thin air. This was the woman who pulled her out of Hydra’s grasp, reversed her brainwashing, and trained her. She trained her to be good, to be vigilant, to be forgiving, and always fight for what’s right. She taught her what it was like to live in the real world, to survive all the bad things, and come out as the winner in the end. She found her after her overdose, helped her through withdrawal, and visited her in rehab. She was always there when she needed her, and even now after Hydra tried to have her taken and Fisk tried to have her killed, Natasha chose to risk her freedom and her life to come back and help her. She came back to save her like she always did.

Eliza realized she was just trying to protect her. By keeping her file a secret, the Avengers tried to protect her. They were looking out for her. Natasha made a choice, she chose not to tell her even though she considered. She weighed the risks and she decided what was best. She might struggle to accept it, but deep down she knew, and right then and there she chose to forgive her. She forgave them.

She laid her head on her shoulder. Natasha instantly held her closer, her head under her chin and just holding her. She always held her like this. Whenever she fell apart, Natasha was there. Not even fugitive status could drive them apart.

“I’m sorry,” Eliza admitted.

“For what?” Natasha asked.

“For going off as I did. I was angry at you and angry and the world but I think I was mostly angry at myself. Knowing how I came to be and what was done to me… I don’t know, it makes me angry, and I’m sorry that you were the outlet for that anger. You didn’t deserve that. You told me the truth, not as Tony did. Tony lied to me and he almost had me arrested. I can’t forgive him, but you?” she said. “I forgive you. You’re my sister, after all. Or the closest thing I have to one.”

Natasha looked up to stop the tears from streaming down her face, tears of relief, tears of love. “You’re not broken, Eliza,” she whispered. “You are capable of love. I feel it every day. You and Matt just need some time to figure your stuff out.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah. I still hate him though.”

Eliza chuckled. “Why?” She sat up straight again.

“Honestly don’t know,” she said. “I just do. Call it spy instincts or just sisterly instincts. I have a bad feeling about him. You don’t have to understand, I just do.”

“Oh, my God.” She full-on laughed at that. “You are so bad. Matt is a good person! Don’t hate him. He’s been nothing but good to me the past few weeks and I owe him for that.”

Natasha switched back to English. “I will try to like him,” she said, making sure he heard her. “For your sake, not for his.”

She could only imagine his smirk, as bitter as himself.

“Don’t be petty,” said Eliza.

“Sorry, I just had to say it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just put your earpiece back in.”

“Are you done talking about us behind our backs?” Sam asked as soon as the static kicked in and everyone knew the pair was back on the channel.

Clint laughed. “They always do that. I don’t know why you’re surprised,” he said.

“They always do that?” Matt asked Clint on the opposite roof.

“Yup, every time they have something to say they don’t want us to hear, they choose a language none of us speak. Doesn’t always have to be Russian. I’ve heard them speak Mandarin once.”

“Well, it sounds like they made up in the end. Their voices changed.”

“That’s something. Maybe she can forgive us too.”

“She does,” Matt insisted. “She’s just worked up, stressed and she feels betrayed by everyone. She says things she doesn’t mean when she’s angry.”

“I know that,” he replied with a small chuckle. “She’s always done that.”

Matt, who had his mask in his hand instead of on his face, seemed to struggle with what he was about to say next. His face said ‘fuck it!’ And he took out his earpiece to speak in confidence. “Has Eliza ever been in love with someone?” he asked. “Do you know that?”

“What?”

“It’s just… okay, you all know what I said. You know I sprung it on her and that’s my fault, but… she didn’t say it back after giving me so many mixed signals, and she agreed that we’d try this, her and me when this is all over. We’d try to be a couple, and now we’re just… not. I’m trying to figure out why. I mean, has she ever been in love and things went south or- or has she ever been hurt so bad that she chooses not to fall in love again? What? Can you tell me that?”

Clint shook his head. He slipped his earpiece out, focusing on the man next to him as he fiddled with one of his arrows. “Eliza doesn’t do relationships,” he stated.

Matt threw his head back. Then perhaps she just didn’t feel the same way after all, and that hurt so much more.

“But what I can tell you is that she’s scared of feeling her own emotions because she feels so much already. She’s never been shown parental love, she’s been used and she’s been abused. The men in her life have constantly traumatized her until we came along, and even then it took her a while to trust us. Natasha? That instantly clicked.”

“So what’re you saying?”

“What I’m saying is that Eliza is so traumatized, she’s afraid of love. From what I’ve seen,” he said, “she adores you. The way she looks at you… she’s never looked at anyone like this before. So maybe she does love you and she’s just afraid to say it. But it’s not her fault.”

He sighed, nodding slowly.

“You made it sound like it is, back at Fogwell’s. I know you’re angry but this isn’t the way to her heart, far from it. She’s gonna push you away while also trying to keep you close until she’s figured out what her feelings mean, and if you keep acting like that? You’re gonna lose her.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I think I already did.”

“No,” and Clint’s smile made the hope inside of him stop falling into the abyss. “You haven’t lost her. Not yet.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Eliza, in my eyes, is just a scared little kid. She’s younger than you. She hasn’t been in charge of her own life for that long and in the time that she has, she’s been through even more trauma than she came out of. You are, by far, the only person she’s ever let this close to. She let us in, too, but not like this. If you’d lost her, she wouldn’t still be here.”

Matt sucked in a sharp breath, scratching his nose to stop the urge to cry from overwhelming him. “Thanks,” he said.

“Do you love her, like really love her?”

“I do,” he nodded. “So much it hurts. And I usually don’t talk about my feelings, but this one is so overwhelming… she means the world to me. It scares me, but I’m okay with that.”

Clint shrugged, stuffing the arrow back into the quiver on his back. “Then things are going to work out for you,” he said.

“Alright. Thank you, Clint. Seriously, I mean it.”

“Hey, I’m not Natasha. I actually like you.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“If you two ever get married - not you and Nat, God forbid, but you and Eliza - I want to be invited. When one of my kids gets married, I want to be there. Assuming I’ll no longer be a fugitive then.”

“How many children do you have, exactly?”

“Biologically, legally, or emotionally? Because there is a difference.”

He laughed, even more, a quiet and breathless laugh that slipped easily over his lips.

“If I could adopt her,” Clint said, more serious this time, “I would in a heartbeat. So if you hurt her, seriously hurt her, I will break both of your kneecaps and then your neck.”

Matt lifted his arms in defense. “I hear ya. Not gonna happen again.”

“Good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Well, we gotta be each other’s eyes and ears tonight, so…”

“Do you always joke about your disability?”

“Occasionally,” he said.

“Funny,” Clint said, “I like you, Matt. You’re cool.”

When they put their earpieces back in, they got a taste of their own medicine.

“Who’s talking behind whose back now?” Natasha teased.

“Shut up, Nat,” Clint said.

“I just want to say,” Eliza cut in, “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, two men filled with too much testosterone need their me-time, right?”

Natasha laughed loudly on the other side. Clint and Matt shared a look.

“Hey, you’re the ones who spoke Russian to throw Batman here off his game,” he argued. “But wait a minute, did you just make a joke?”

“Yeah.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I forgive you asshats.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Steve.

Clint frowned. “How do you always pop out of nowhere?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s showtime. Everybody, get in positions. Sam is coming out with the package.”

Eliza quoted, “The package.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t know what else to call it.”

“Anything but the package.”

“Ah,” Natasha grinned, “This reminds me so much of old times.”

“Right now I wish these were old times.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Hey, Nat,” Eliza said and turned to her, “You said you’ve been keeping tabs on my father. Is there a chance you could let me know where he is?”

She thought about it. “Do you think that’s such a good idea?” she questioned.

“I just want to know where I come from. And I want to see for myself that he’s still alive. If I have at least some proof, I can finally relax.”

“Alright, I will pull some strings. Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

That’s a promise I’d be happy to make if I could keep it.

“I won’t.”

Oh, you are such a little liar.

“This is just to satisfy my curiosity,” she added and as she said it, she smiled and Natasha could never say no to that smile.

She wholeheartedly believed her. I’m hindsight, she should have known it was foolish to give in like that and blindly believe that Eliza would not do anything stupid. She should have known better. She knew her, so why did she give in? Perhaps it was because she knew her that she gave in.

Stupid, foolish Natasha. She will never learn.

The door to the roof opened. A brunette man in his mid-forties stepped out into the darkening sun. He stopped when he saw the two women waiting for him. The door fell shut behind him. He flinched.

Eliza flicked her wrist to fix the handle in place and close the lock for good. No one had to know.

“I think I have been misinformed,” he said, his breathing uneven, and the fear radiated off of him. She took a whiff. “I was supposed to meet a friend here. My mistake.”

He turned to open the door again just to find it locked. He panicked, rattling the knob over and over again, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You weren’t misinformed,” Natasha said.

“I shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be here.” He hit the door. “Look, whatever you want, I can’t help you. Just open the door.”

“Who says we can?”

“It’s her.” He shot around, pointing a finger at Eliza. “The witch from the news. I should have known when Sam contacted me that this was some sort of trap. Please, I haven’t done anything.”

“Who said we think you did?” Eliza quipped. “For all, we know we’re just here to talk.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve seen what you did to those men, how you made the ground move a-and how you knocked them out all on your own. I don’t want to be here. I should not be here and neither should you.” He once again tried to open the door. His fist hit the hard plastic. “Damn it!”

“Owen,” Sam’s voice sounded from mid-air as he landed, wings still spread. His boots hit the ground, as did his knee.

The man looked at him. Fear caused his eyes to sink, the dark circles clear, and a layer of sweat coated his forehead. On any other day, Eliza would have cursed herself and tried to talk him down, but not this time. This time, she was intrigued. She thrived off of it. He was scared, for good reasons. He was scared of her and he had every right to be. No, he had to be. He had to be scared.

She loved it, and it should have scared her that her mind worked that way, but it didn’t. She long stopped caring.

“No,” Owen muttered. “This isn’t right.”

“Owen, please,” Sam said. “Listen to me. We’re not here to hurt you.”

“She trapped us up here!” He once again pointed at her. “You brought her here and now she’s gonna hurt me. Look at her! She’s fucking crazy.”

“Hey,” she said.

“What? It’s true. She’s a danger to society, the world, and probably to herself, which makes this so much worse. You have lured me into a trap, Sam!”

“Hey now, I’m certainly not a danger to myself.”

“That raises so many questions.”

“Owen,” she stepped forward and he took another step back until his back hit the door. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The yet laid on her tongue.

“Yet,” he said out loud for her.

“Well…” she shrugged. “If you give me no reason to hurt you, I won’t.”

Natasha stared at her. She didn’t glare, she simply stared, and her eyebrows furrowed at her sudden change in attitude. “Eliza,” she hissed.

“What, he wants to know the truth,” she said.

“You’re being a bit too harsh. He’s an informant, not a suspect.”

“Ah, potato, pot-ah-to; cheater, adulterer, whatever. All the same thing.”

“They’re right,” Sam said, stepping forward as well. “We’re not here to hurt you, Owen. We just need your help.”

“With what?” he asked, still cowering in fear against the door.

“We need your help finding a building. Since we know you have access to all the permits that have been given out to people building on certain grounds here in New York, and you also have an index on actual facilities, not just homeowners in general, we want to take a look at it. That’s all we need, your access codes.”

He swallowed. “No.”

“No?”

“No, I won’t give them to you. I don’t care what you want, I’m not going to risk my job.”

A thud sounded on the gravel. Steve landed next to them. “This is important,” he said. He looked a lot more intimidating with his beard, even without the shield. Especially without it, he looked less like a patriot and more like an actual warrior. “We’re trying to stop Hydra from experimenting on children, young girls, and young adults. They’re making supernatural weapons to gain control over the government and eventually cause mayhem, something like the Battle of New York only much, much worse. We have a blueprint,” he stated, “We have a 3D model, we just need to find the location. Once we have that, we’re gone.”

His nostrils flared. “My answer stays the same,” he said. “I won’t help you. I won’t incriminate myself. Hell, you’re lucky if I don’t report you. And I won’t if you open this door and leave right now. If you don’t, I will call the cops on you. I will do it Right now, tell everyone you’re holding me hostage.” He reached into his back pocket. “It’s truly nothing personal, Sam. If times were different, I would let you call in your favor, but you’re all fugitives and you’re harboring a dangerous mutant. I won’t let that slide.”

He unlocked his phone, though before he could type in the number, a baton flew straight against it, knocking the device out of his hands. On the ledge stood Daredevil, the rising moon shining a light on his back, illuminating his silhouette.

“Don’t,” he warned.

Clint appeared on the opposite side, bow and arrow ready to be used in his hand. Eliza had never felt more powerful than with her friends having her back while her powers charged in her hands.

Owen looked between them, his face paling completely. All the blood drained from his body.

“Now,” Eliza said, “Why don’t we talk like adults?”

He hesitated. His eyes flicked from Eliza to where Daredevil was standing, the arrow pointed at him, Black Widow with her hand on her gun, and he made out a small gap between Sam and the ledge.

“If you do what I think you’re about to do,” Daredevil bellowed, “I will be very unhappy, so don’t.”

Still, the second the words left his mouth, Owen sprinted towards what would be his certain death.

Matt was about to make a run toward the man to stop him, but he stopped suddenly when the air sizzled with the familiar feeling that had run through him too many times to count.

Owen ran into the wall that appeared out of nowhere, see-through and red, almost like bricks stacked on top of each other. A strange force yanked him back by the shirt, pulling him toward the Avengers. They watched in horror – yes, horror – as Eliza used her glowing hands to maneuver him around. The hands that clawed at him weren’t even attached to a body, they came and went as soon as he landed at her feet.

She flipped him onto his stomach, knee pressing into the top of his spine right on his neck, shutting off most of his oxygen flow, and she pulled his arm back so far his shoulder cracked.

“He’s not the only one who’s unhappy,” she growled. Her eyes turned such a dark red, they resembled black holes.

Natasha recognized that look and the memories that came to mind were dark and the most terrifying thing she could remember, and she had seen a lot in the course of her career, a lot of which she had done herself.

She pulled harder at his arm. “Hydra. I want to know what you know. And don’t lie to me, I have a feeling you’re working for them. Or you at least know what building I am talking about.” She pulled again. He cried out, though choked up through the knee on his neck. “I saw it on your face when Rogers dropped the name,” she said. “Tell me what you know and I might let you breathe. If you don’t,” and this time she removed her knee slightly, allowing him a second to breathe, and then applied even more pressure until he gurgled, “This will probably be the last breath you have ever taken, Owen.”

The voices around her suddenly came back into her consciousness. “ELIZA!” It was Matt, the one voice she could recognize like no other, and the only one able to coax her out of whatever state she had put herself in. “Eliza, let go of him. He can’t breathe.”

She ground her teeth. “That’s the point,” the animal that possessed her was more than ready to go through with it.

“He either suffocates or you’ll break his neck. Either way, he dies. Do you want that? Do you want his blood on your hands?”

She hesitated. Did she want that? Yes. No. Not again. She wasn’t this person anymore. Or perhaps she was, she didn’t even know anymore.

“He hasn’t done anything,” Matt tried again. “He may be an asshole but he hasn’t done anything to justify this. Please, sweetheart, look at me.”

Sweetheart. There it was.

Her head snapped around. He had taken off his mask, standing far enough away from Owen for him not to see his face.

“If you do this, you’ll never forgive yourself. If you kill him, this will change who you have grown to be forever. It will send you years back. It will ruin everything Natasha had worked toward. It will ruin you. Please, let go of him. You don’t want to kill him, I know it.”

She tilted her head. Owen grunted again when she twisted his arm further. “Listen to my heartbeat,” she said. She was conscious but at the same time, she wasn’t. “Does it sound like I don’t want this?”

“Yes,” he said with utmost conviction. His lip tilted up in a smile but his eyes displayed sorry and foremost fear.

She scared him.

Goddamnit.

“I…” her knee slipped from his neck, followed by her arm. She popped his shoulder back in and let go, jumping back to her feet. As quick as her feet could carry her, she stepped away. She braced her hands on her knees, panting heavily. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Her hands tangled in her hair. “I lost control, I’m sorry.”

Turning her emotions off to deal with everything better had been a bad idea. The state slowly got to her and she didn’t like who she was becoming. While she was lucid, the part she had swallowed down for so long was starting to return to the surface, breaking through it. She could barely control the monster anymore. The Red Demon was about to make her appearance worse than what she displayed at that moment.

Sam helped Owen up, yet he held him by his collar, the crying and terrified man. Matt pulled the mask back over his head, taking determined steps toward Eliza. She was shaking her hands, trying to calm herself down, but the rage just wouldn’t stop.

He reached for her shoulders. “Eliza,” he called her name softly. He was scared yet willing to sacrifice everything to help her. She didn’t deserve that. He was an idiot of the highest order.

“Don’t touch me!” She flinched away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” her mouth wasn’t hers anymore. “Not anymore, you lost that right last night.”

He frowned. “What is wrong with you?” The question came through gritted teeth.

“Everything,” she said.

“You almost killed that guy.”

“He was lying to us.”

“He wasn’t.”

“No, he knows something.”

“Maybe, maybe not, but you crossed a line here. You almost crossed a line you swore yourself you would never cross again, and you crossed my line specifically by almost choking that guy to death, something I will not stand for.”

“Boo-hoo, cry me a river! You don’t get to judge me, Mister I throw people off rooftops.”

“I make sure no one dies,” he argued.

Eliza laughed out, high-pitched and manic. “That’s great! Breaking their spines and paralyzing them is so much better than murder.”

“Okay, this is not the woman I fell in love with.”

“Then you shouldn’t have fallen in love with me because this is me. That picture you have of me was a lie,” she said. “Everything you saw, everything we did, it was a lie. And you were so fucking foolish to believe it.”

He slowly backed away. She saw his heart break, worse than it did before. The organ broke right through, tearing his soul down with him. “Don’t say that,” he breathed.

“It’s the truth,” Eliza felt no remorse.

“Well, if that’s so, I’m glad no one’s ever fallen in love with you before. Clint tried to vouch for you but I think differently now. You are not capable of love. You are broken beyond repair and I’m tired of trying to fix you.”

“Oh, you are?”

“Yeah. You know what? Forget everything I said about you, it doesn’t mean anything now. I’m out. You can do this on your own like you wanted to from the beginning. I won’t be a burden to you anymore. Clearly, you’ve got your perfect team right here,” he spat. “Use them instead of me. I won’t be your punching bag anymore. I am done, and I am done for good.”

She threw her hands up. “That’s fine by me!”

“I wish I had never met you,” Matt didn’t mean it, but he was so angry and hurt at that moment, he just spewed what came to his mind first.

Eliza yelled back, “You too!”

He jumped the rooftop to the next building and just like that, he was gone, disappeared into the night that had come over them.

The Avengers watched her, eyes wide, some filled with pure disappointment and others with worry. The colors were too bright, so she shut them out. She was tired of feeling. She was tired of all of this.

She stalked up to them. Owen recoiled. “What do you know?” she asked him.

“I- I can check your blueprint and see if anything’s familiar. I can offer you the permits we gave for bigger facilities, maybe you’ll find something there. If it’s something unique, I will remember it as soon as I see the blueprint. Just please,” he whimpered, “Please don’t hurt me again.”

The gravel had drawn blood around the white collar of his dress shirt.

She eyed him. “I won’t.”

The lock on the door opened.

“Is anyone else in the building? And don’t lie to me unless you want to feel like this again.”

“No, no one’s here anymore. They all left.”

“Great. Nat, you disable the cameras, the rest of us will check what Owen has to offer us.”

Steve held her back roughly by her bicep. “You don’t make the commands here,” he said.

Eliza pulled away. “I do now. Does anybody have a problem with that?” She looked around. They all shook their heads. “See? You’ve been replaced, Captain. You tag along or you don’t, either way, I’m going to get my answers.”

Behind her, Clint leaned into Natasha. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he whispered.

“That the stress is bringing Hydra-Eliza back?” she whispered back. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“We are walking dangerous territory here,” he said.

Sam was guiding Owen in the front, Eliza on the other side, Steve in the middle, and the two friends behind them as they walked down the stairs into the building.

“If she snaps, we’re gonna have a problem. You saw what she can do, Nat. We need to talk about what to do if it happens because now Matt is gone too, and if he’s gone, she has no one left to keep her in check. God knows she won’t listen to us.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m trying to figure it out.”

“Well, do it fast because I don’t think she’s going to be able to hold on much longer.”

“I’m doing my best here, Clint. If you pressure me, it’s only going to get harder for me to focus.”

They entered the man’s office. Sam shoved him into his chair, Natasha focusing on the computer. Eliza cracked her knuckles.

“I’m going to show you our 3D model,” she told him. “And you’re going to tell me what you know. If you don’t…”

“Please, Owen,” Sam said.

“Don’t say please, he doesn’t deserve please.”

“He’s still my friend.”

“Is he? He was ready to snitch on us.”

He couldn’t say anything to that.

Steve pulled her aside. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Eliza pulled away from him. “I’m just tired of being lied to.” Her eyes were dead when she looked up at him. He nodded slowly, realizing he was walking toward dangerous waters. He didn’t want to push her any further.

Owen took a close look at the model Clint showed him. Narrowing his eyes, he spun the hologram around. He took in the measurements and the other numbers that had been on the blueprint.

He shook his head. “I feel like I’ve seen it before,” he said, “but I can’t pinpoint where. It’s been a while, could be years. This place is nothing famous here in New York, I’ll tell you, but I’ve seen this blueprint before.”

“Where?” Eliza pushed him. “Think!”

“I don’t know. I think it wasn’t someone trying to get a permit but rather something I saw on a colleague’s desk as I was passing through the building legislation department.”

Clint leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Hydra did infiltrate a government facility back when they took over SHIELD. Who’s to say they won’t get into the mayor’s office? Spreading their ideology can get even the people here on their side.”

“Hitler did the same thing,” Steve said.

Eliza nodded along. “Yeah, you’re right. I think there might be a leak here.”

“What colleague?” Sam questioned him. “We need to know. He could be working for Hydra.”

“If I tell you, I’ll die,” Owen said.

“You’ll die either way,” she retorted.

“I can’t tell you because I don’t remember. But even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Natasha looked up from the computer. “There is nothing here,” she said. “I think we should go with the leak.”

Sam pulled him back by the air, angling his head. “Liz, is there any chance your powers expand to mind reading?”

“Not exactly. I can look into his soul though, see if he has some strong emotions attached to that particular memory.”

Owen whimpered, “Please don’t.”

“Do it,” Steve ordered.

Everyone else nodded.

Eliza stepped forward. She didn’t need to touch him to get her answers, but his fear was so sweet, she wanted to taste it up close. She placed her hand on his forehead, closing her reddening eyes. Owen cried only harder, even though she wasn’t actively hurting him. He was scared and the fear caused him pain. She thrived off of it.

She stepped into a different reality. It wasn’t hard to find the memory that Owen talked about. The day he caught sight of the blueprint was connected to buckets of fear. She realized soon why.

Owen was thrown into a chair, just like they did. The man whose face she didn’t recognize towered over him. “Oh, Owen, what are we going to do with you?” he cooed.

“Who is that?” she asked.

“Evan Fowler, he’s the mayor’s lawyer,” he told her. “Never leaves his side.”

Someone else stood behind Evan. Eliza’s eyes widened in realization. That goddamn face haunted her every time she closed her eyes. He wore a suit covered by a trenchcoat. His hand held a wooden cane, trying to conceal the limp he had. Gloves adorned his hands, those disgusting wandering hands she loathed with her entire being. She recoiled, stepping back as Evan landed a punch to Owen’s stomach. He was suddenly tied to the chair with the man’s tie. Once he was beaten bloody and bruised, the other man stepped forward.

Viktor stepped into the limelight. He used a tissue to wipe the blood that had splattered on him off his face. With a sigh, his voice filled the room and her blood ran cold. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” his Russian accent was still as thick, “You are going to forget you ever saw this building. If someone comes asking about it, you will tell them that you don’t know anything, even if it kills you. Can you do that?”

Owen nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry! I won’t tell anyone, just please, don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, no, I will not be starting with you, Owen,”

Eliza remembered the picture on his desk, his wife, and two kids. He had a family.

“I will come for your family first,” Viktor said, “and then, when everything and everyone you have ever loved is gone, then I will get you, torture you and kill you.”

“Oh God,” he cried.

“Evan, clean the blood off your floor. I don’t need people asking questions. We need to hurry if we want to get ahead of the deserter Anton. My source says he’s hiding here in New York and I intend to find him.”

As he turned away, Evan loosened the ties around Owen’s wrists. “Copy that, boss,” he said.

Viktor tapped his cane against the floor two times before opening the door. “Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.”

She let go of his head, eyes wide and petrified. “He threatened your family,” she breathed.

“Yes,” Owen struggled in his hold. “Viktor is a cruel, cruel man. He has me in a chokehold. If he finds out you know, he’s going to kill my wife first and then make me watch him kill my son and daughter. I can’t let that happen, surely you understand that.”

“Sam, let him go. He doesn’t know anything, he just saw the blueprint. Who we need to focus on is Evan Fowler.”

He loosened his hand in his hair and Owen stumbled away, bracing himself against his desk. “He doesn’t have an office here,” he panted, “but the mayor does.”

“You think he’d be hiding the plans in the mayor’s office?” Natasha asked.

“I think so, yeah. But that is all I can tell you. Please, I need my family to be safe. What you did today put everything I worked for in jeopardy. I won’t call the cops on you, simply because I would be incriminating myself,” he said, “but I won’t help you any further than that.”

Eliza nodded. She understood his need to keep his family safe. Viktor was cruel and he didn’t care about anyone but himself. Killing innocent families fit right into his MO. He threatened his enemies like that. It was the easiest way to hurt them, killing their families. The only thing everyone loved he could easily take away and he would never hesitate to do it.

She retrieved her phone from her pocket, punched in a number, and held the device in front of his face. “Call this number, tell him about your family and he will get you out of the country in the next twelve hours, just enough time to pack your things and head to the airport,” she said. “You will be escorted by someone trained to protect, so I can assure you, you will be safe.”

Owen frowned. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m making up for what I did on the roof. I’m sorry, if I had known Viktor was threatening you, I would have never tried to kill you. Call this number,” she shoved the phone into his hand, “and get out of here, bring your family to safety. God knows you need it.”

He nodded. He pressed the call button. Within seconds, the line clicked. He gave his family’s whereabouts and his name, to which the person on the other end seemed to agree. It was a fast conversation, nothing that could be tracked. Her contact was someone she trusted with her life. The man on the other end could easily fake her death and get her anywhere she wanted to go, that was why she always had his number memorized. You can never know when you need to leave your old life behind and start new somewhere other than where you started.

He looked at her almost thankfully, handing the phone back to her. “Thank you,” he said.

“It’s okay. He probably already told you, but you will get a new identity and he will make sure your disappearance goes down as certain death on paper. He will burn your house down, probably, but it’s a small price to pay if you don’t want to get killed by Viktor Volkov.”

“Right, thanks. I owe you my life.”

He scrambled to get his bag. Just as he was about to shove his laptop into the satchel, sirens roared outside. The team exchanged a quick look. The police were closer than they should have been.

Owen’s eyes widened. “I didn’t call them!”

“Yeah, we know,” Steve said through gritted teeth. He pulled the curtains aside slightly, poking his head out the window. “They’re almost here. We need to get out.”

Clint shouldered his bow. “I’m going to escort Owen out of here, make sure no one gets to him or his family,” he said.

“Great. The rest of us needs to head to the roof and get out before they call a chopper.”

Eliza didn’t roll with it. “No,” she stated.

“No?” Steve asked.

“No. I’m going to get to the mayor’s office. I don’t know when we will get the chance again.”

Natasha called out for her, “Eliza, wait!”

She stormed out of the door and down the hallway. Determined to get her answers, she ignored the fact that the police stopped right in front of the building or that they brought dogs to sniff her out. She ignored the feeling in her stomach that made her heart drop and her throat burn. She was focused on Owen’s memory alone, and what it brought on. They were so close, she wasn’t going to risk losing everything once the police came and turned everything upside down.

Eliza disabled the alarm, bursting into the office. The place was licked clean. He had a giant bookshelf, a mahagoni desk, and several cupboards. She jumped at the sound of the door falling closed.

“Nat, you shouldn’t be here,” she said as she tore the drawers open, lazily scouting through them. “If you get caught, you’re going to jail.”

“You too,” she replied. Natasha took it upon herself to check the other shelf. “I told you, we’re in this together.”

She rolled her eyes. There was no arguing with her. It was something they had in common. They searched through the files quickly, finding nothing. The blonde headed for the desk, hacking into the mayor’s computer. Eliza kept sifting through the drawers, slowly growing agitated with the lack of answers. She thought she had something.

“How’s it going over there, Nat?” she asked.

“Finding nothing,” she said. “You?”

“Same.”

“Maybe he took it home with him, or maybe Viktor stole it. He wouldn’t be so stupid and keep important Hydra information here.”

Eliza ripped the lock from the bottom drawer. The metal fell to the floor. She slid it open. The files weren’t even sorted correctly. Desperate as she was, she skipped over those she deemed unimportant. She was just about to give up until…

Bingo.

She pulled the papers out of the file, folded them in the middle, and then shoved them into her suit.

“You found something?” Natasha questioned from behind.

Eliza sighed. “No, no I didn’t.” She slapped the drawer shut, hoping she didn’t hear the slight quiver in her voice that usually gave away when she was lying.

“Yeah, me neither, but the cops are here and we need to think fast.”

She looked over her shoulder, toward the window. She seemed to be thinking the same thing. “The window,” they said at the same time.

“Yeah, glad we’re on the same page.”

The doorhandle rattled. Eliza had closed it well, but not with her powers, and the chair Natasha had pushed in front of it couldn’t hold back the force of several strong men throwing themselves against it.

They looked at each other. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.

“Totally,” said Natasha.

Just as the door fell off its hinges, the glass of the window broke at the force of two bodies jumping out of it. The two soared through the night. The ground came closer and closer and closer. Their bodies thudded against the asphalt, ribs cracked and skin scraped open. Eliza sucked in a sharp breath, and Natasha did the same. They were alive, that was all that mattered. They could let the pain consume them later.

Eliza rolled over onto her stomach, hoisting herself up on her knees. “You okay?” she grunted out.

Natasha rolled over. “Yeah, just… getting old, I guess.” She sat up, earning a chuckle from her friend.

She offered her hand, which she took gladly. They rose to their feet. Shrill lighting came from the office they had just jumped out of, the police scanning the night for mangled bodies. They only caught silhouettes though as Eliza and Natasha jogged out of the alley and up the next best roof.

Steve met them around a dark corner. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” he snapped at them. “Do you know what could have happened?”

Eliza pressed a hand to her side. Every breath felt like the blade of a knife cutting right through her flesh, puncturing her lungs. She figured two ribs were broken, one bruised. Nothing she would need medical attention for, and the second they reached matt’s apartment it would be healed.

“We’re fine,” Natasha sounded just as pained. “Just a few broken ribs. The cops didn’t see us. Jesus!” She hunched over. “That hurt like a bitch!”

“Preach,” Eliza said.

“You guys are insane,” Sam cut in, though he didn’t sound as mad as Steve. “You almost got caught. You could have gotten killed. What were you thinking?”

“On second thought, I wasn’t thinking. We found nothing, but now we can’t say we didn’t try.”

Steve threw his hands up. He knew when he spoke, he would say things he didn’t mean, so he kept his mouth shut.

“We should leave,” it was Sam’s idea.

Eliza gave a thumbs-up. “Good idea.”

“Yeah, I could really use some ice,” said Natasha.

“Me too.”

“What exactly did you do?”

“Leap out of a window.”

“And we broke it,” Eliza said.

“Yeah, we broke it.”

Sam sighed, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you two were suicidal.”

Natasha shrugged. “Maybe we are.”

“Totally, but I wouldn’t throw myself out of the second floor.”

“Same.”

“Let’s go,” Steve said. His voice sounded like gravel.

They were in for a much longer lecture once they were back in the safety of their four walls.

Foggy jumped out of the armchair as soon as he heard the rooftop door open. Steve and Sam came in first, followed by the disheveled and injured women. He could tell from the beginning that for one, something bad must have happened and for two, they were missing two members of their team.

He had helped himself to Eliza’s leftovers. They were long forgotten on the table as he sprinted toward them. He caught her with an arm around her waist. She hissed at the pressure on her ribs. Steve helped Natasha down the last few steps, holding her the same way.

Foggy walked her to the couch as if he had done this a million times before. And he had. He had done this for Matt several times before.

“What happened?” he asked.

Natasha fell into the cushions beside her. “Oh, that is so good,” she muttered.

“You guys need ice.” He walked into the kitchen, retrieved two ice packs, and returned to the living room. “Here,” he handed it to them, “now talk. What happened? Where are Clint and Matt?”

“Clint’s helping Sam’s friend get out of the country,” Natasha stated.

Sam frowned. “Now that you say it out loud it sounds weird,” he said.

She scoffed.

“Eliza, where is Matt?” Foggy asked her then. He had a bad feeling, but for good reason. “Eliza?”

She clenched her jaw. Not from the pain in her side but from the faint jab of emotional agony and regret. She regretted talking to him like that but it had to be done. “He left,” she answered plainly. “And I doubt he will be coming back to help us anytime soon.”

“What? What the hell happened out there?”

“I snapped, we fought, then we almost got caught by the cops that Hydra sent after us, no doubt. Or Fisk, I don’t know. They’re all the same in my head.”

“He already said he was done once, he’s going to come back. Matt doesn’t just leave, not when something like this is happening in his city.”

“Well, he sounded pretty convinced to me.” With the ice pack pressed to her ribs, she got up. “Anyone want a beer?”

Sam raised his hand, “I’ll take one.”

“Same here,” said Natasha.

“Steve?” she asked.

“No thank you,” he said.

“Oh, someone’s pissed. Alright, your loss.”

“Pissed?” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m feral. You said you were taking over the command and I rolled with it, fine, but what you did is not something a leader would do. You put the safety of the entire team in jeopardy. You almost killed a man.”

“I didn’t almost kill him,” she clapped back. “I don’t know what you saw, but I was going to let go before that could have happened. Besides, aren’t you the one who said he’d do anything to stop Hydra? Well, I did something. I did what was necessary. None of you seemed to want to do it, so I did. Natasha was the only one willing to help me. She wouldn’t let me do this alone. What did you do, Captain? Nothing. You ran. You ran like it would help us to run every time things get hard. Guess what? Running away is helping no one but yourself.”

“Don’t yell at me,” he said, his voice remaining steady and almost soft.

“I’m not yelling. I’m just raising my voice, hoping that my words somehow manage to get past that thick skull of yours. You guys heard Viktor’s name,” she said. The fridge shook with the force she used to shut it again. “You all did. I saw him in Owen’s head. He has already infiltrated the mayor’s office, God knows what he will take over next. And that memory was old, not fresh. Years ago, I think. That means things have only gotten worse from there on. It’s Viktor, the man who ruined my entire life, and I’d be damned if I let him get away with doing this to other, innocent people just because of me. I won’t let that happen, not on my watch. Now, you can either help me or you get out of my fucking way.”

She came dangerously close to the tall super soldier, staring him right in the eyes. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest. She didn’t care about his soft blue eyes or his protective stance, she just wanted him to listen. She wanted him to leave at the same time she wanted him to stay, all of them. She wasn’t sure what exactly she wanted, but it wasn’t this.

“Eliza,” Foggy said.

“No,” she waved him off. “I get it, I need to calm down. Excuse me.”

She disappeared into Matt’s bedroom, closing the door behind her with less force. Though the milky glass still rattled.

She lay on the bed for a while, basking in the scent of him. She stared at the ceiling, hoping the answers would just come to her in a daydream. She tried to sleep, but that didn’t work either. Eventually, she pulled the papers out of her suit. All she needed now was for Natasha to hold up her end of the bargain. She needed to know the man’s whereabouts, the same man whose file she was holding in her hands.

Eliza sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed. The papers built a circle around her. She skimmed over them. He was displayed as an employee for giving out information, possibly even who she was, then a prisoner for not telling them the truth about where he kept the information on Eliza, even after years of torture, and at last, a deserter – someone who ran away from the organization when he wasn’t allowed to, without a word, without reason. He escaped. He escaped two years in the past, came to Tony, gave him his daughter’s file, and then disappeared from the face of the earth. Viktor said he wanted to find him in New York, so chances were he wasn’t there anymore. Still, her hope remained. He wasn’t dead, that she knew, and Viktor didn’t get him back. No doubt they were still searching for him, even though they already knew Eliza was in New York too and they could easily get her.

She would be the first to reach him, she decided. Hydra had nothing on her, she could find him and then they had nothing. They had nothing and she could destroy them.

She quickly piled the documents back together, stuffing them into Matt’s bedside drawer.

Heading for her duffel bag, Eliza felt heavy. Her legs weighed tons, her heart trapped in her stomach, and her soul felt like a brick she had to swallow. She reached for the stack of paper inside the bag and a pen she kept there, and she started writing right there on the floor.

When Natasha came in, there was no sign of what she had done. Eliza sat on the bed, looking into the mirror as she tried to braid her hair and tie it up. She failed miserably.

She chuckled a little, stepping behind her, settling on the bed, and took the brush from her. She brushed her hair gently, parting the strands, and she braided her hair like old times. For old-time’s sake.

“You could just not do this, you know?” The fake Eliza appeared in the mirror behind her. “You’re just going to hurt them when they could easily help you,” she said. “I’m not often against you fighting to find out the truth, but this is the wrong way.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. She ignored her.

Natasha finished the second braid with ease. “How do you want them; One bun or two?” she asked.

“Tie them together at the back so they won’t fall into my face,” she told her.

“Alright.” She got to work.

Eliza looked back at her double in the mirror. For the first time, she seemed to have more emotions in her eyes than she did in reality.

“Don’t do it,” she said. “I know you can hear and see me, but you can’t answer because you don’t want to freak her out, so believe me when I tell you that you cannot do this. You’re just going to ruin everything.”

She bit her lip.

“This is not the right path. This is going to get you hurt. You might unfold your true nature, but this won’t help if you get killed doing it.”

“What’s on your mind?” She flinched at the sound of Natasha’s voice.

She shook her head. “Nothing, I just… I’m thinking about my father and how he knew what I could do from the beginning but refused to tell Hydra until a couple of years ago. I need to understand why exactly.”

“Hm, I get that. You know, I worked with my family to take down the Red Room and it helped me get some closure, closing the chapter of my old life for good. That reminds me,” she said, reaching into her pocket, “I had my contact send me a file on your father’s latest whereabouts. It’s nothing too detailed, but there are pictures and things he did. Maybe it helps you close this chapter, too.”

Eliza forced a smile. “Thanks, Nat.”

“There, I just sent it. You’re welcome. Now, let’s go to bed. Everyone else is asleep already and we have an early day tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Natasha smiled from her spot at the door. “Good night,” she said.

“Good night,” she said back.

“If you need anything, just let me know.”

“I won’t, but thank you.”

“Okay.”

The door closed. Eliza was left alone in the soft purple of the Billboard mixed with the yellow of the bedside lamp. She looked out of the window, watching the ads dance on the screen and fade into another color once again.

Sighing, she reached for the envelope she had slid under the pillow.

“Eliza, don’t,” the voice begged her again. She stood right next to her.

“You know I have to,” she whispered. No one had to hear. “There is no other way.”

“We will find one. This is not something I can foresee and you haven’t thought this through enough for me to agree with you. As your common sense, I urge you not to do it. Talk with them, but don’t do what you’re about to do.”

“I thought you said you were done.” She scoffed. “I should have known my mind was going to lie to me too.”

“I didn’t lie, I just came to warn you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard your warning,” she said, “And I acknowledge it, but you’re not going to stop me.”

“Please,” she begged again.

Eliza closed her eyes. She thought about something else, anything that would overshadow the person standing in the mirror, looking down at her as if she was broken or deranged.

She thought back to the same memory at the table at the compound, playing UNO with Natasha, and playing poker with her friends. Nights spent together, being normal, having fun, all of that over in the span of just a few days, and now she had nothing left but broken pieces of what her already unstable life had once been.

When she opened her eyes again, the voice was gone and she was all alone again. The silence offered her solace, a silent go-ahead.

As if to convince herself, she sighed, checking her outfit in the mirror one last time. “I’m gonna do it,” she told herself. “I’m gonna do it and everything’s going to be alright.”

Don’t lie to yourself.

She took an even deeper breath. She choked out her common sense like foam over a wildfire.

Checking her phone for the file Natasha sent her again, making sure she had the right plan in mind, she turned her attention back to herself. Her eyes were dead, and empty and perhaps she had been right, perhaps she was deranged, but if she was, being batshit crazy had never felt better.

Everyone was asleep when she stepped out of the bedroom. Matt still hadn’t returned. She left the letter on his bed, closing the front door behind herself without a single sound, and she never looked back.

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taiblogcomics · 3 days

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Miss Mary Marvel, All Dressed in Black

Hey there, low-poly kart racers. It's June now! We're a month into this review, which at least also reflects on the review itself. Which is to say, we got 51 issues in as many weeks. Unlike its vastly superior predecessor 52 (yes I will keep mentioning it), I don't think this one's being told in real time. Can you imagine a month of your life going by and this little happening in it? I mean, I can, but also I don't live in the DC universe~

Here's the cover:

All right, this cover's pretty sweet. Like, as a latex fetishist, I really appreciate Mary Marvel's costume change. There's no separation between the gloves and sleeves at any point! I think that's cool! The one thing is that the skirt is just a bit too short for someone Mary's age. Like, you're getting a little cheek peek right on the cover, and I don't think that's okay. I do get the symbolism of a more risque outfit being symbolic of her slip into darker magics. But, like, couldn't it accomplish the same thing if her skirt reached her knee~?

Previously: Jason Todd watches the Monitor shoot Duela Dent, then bonds with Donna Troy over it. Pied Piper and Trickster audition for a big caper with the rest of the Rogues. Karate Kid is held for questioning by the JLA. Jimmy Olsen discovers he has superpowers while at Arkham Asylum, then watches Lightray of the New Gods die. And Mary Marvel, as implied by the cover, ends up seeking out Black Adam for a power boost after being cut off from her own powers and family. All this and Holly Robinson hasn't even appeared in the series yet! Maybe this issue~

We open with a brief scene of Jimmy Olsen having a nightmare where he's trapped in the Source Wall wearing Lightray's outfit. He then wakes up screaming. What a necessary sequence. We then finally cut to Holly Robinson, who might be the most obscure character of the lot here. Long story short, she's a former sex worker who's pals with Catwoman, even taking over the identity for a time while Selina Kyle was indisposed. A couple of Russian supervillains kill a cop, and the police blame it on Holly. She's on the run as a fugitive now, having picked the worst place to hide out: this series.

Holly arrives in Metropolis, clearly trying to disguise herself with an ugly army cap and sunglasses. Like, she hasn't even changed her hair. A guy who is only slightly sleazy-looking approaches her. Like, worst of it he's wearing a black trenchcoat and gold chain necklace. He's like "Hey baby, need somewhere to stay? I see you have a barely concealed whip in your bag, I can get you a lot of attention for that kind of kink." She kicks him in the face, which drops him instantly. She doesn't do that kind of work anymore. She then debates calling a friend, then spikes her cellphone on the ground angrily, figuring she has to live without help now.

Over in Gotham City, Mary Marvel is continuing her chat with Black Adam, another way you can tell this story isn't taking place in real time. Can you imagine this conversation lasting three weeks? Anyway, Adam doesn't think it's coincidence Mary ended up at his doorstep and figures if she's come inquiring about his power, she must accept that they feel the same: lost, abandoned, left with nothing. Mary replies that there's not nothing, hope still remains. Black Adam then chokeslams her against the wall, raging that hope is a sick delusion. Can you imagine The Rock doing that~?

So we cut over to the Monitors, who are continuing their "We should do something" discussion. And the something they should do? The Monitor who killed Duela (later named Solomon, which we will use to distinguish him for simplicity's sake) proposes a call to action. There is a multiversal crisis, a disease that could wipe out everything--and I do mean everything, everywhere, all at once--and the ones carrying it are Jason Todd, Donna Troy, and Kyle Rayner (which is weird to call him out here, considering Kyle hasn't appeared i the comic in person yet). For the good of the multiverse, these three must be wiped out. And the rest of the Monitors cheer him--save one, the one who stopped Solomon after he killed Duela.

Pied Piper and Trickster are at another of the Rogues' debauchery parties, and they step out for some fresh air. Both of them question why the other is here. After all, didn't they both go straight? (An ironic twist of words, considering Piper is gay, which Trickster makes jokes about.) Trickster reasons it out as being bored working with the FBI. Hey, not wanting to be a fed? That's respectable! Piper, on the other hand… Well, Wally West and his family disappeared into the Speed Force after Infinite Crisis. He doesn't have any other family or friends. What's left for him but the Rogues?

The conversation with Black Adam continues, as he asks if Mary wants to die. She responds (pretty clearly for being pinned to a wall by her throat, no less) that she only wants her old life back. They both know that's impossible. And while he can't help her loneliness, he can give her some gods to hang out with instead. He calls down the lightning, transferring his powers to her. Because if you put that on the cover, it better come true. And yes, he's given her all of his power, reducing him to Teth-Adam. As he leaves, the only instructions he gives are to tell Billy "sorry" if she does happen to see him.

And you'd think that'd be the end of the comic, but nope! That'd be a great place to end it! But instead… we have to spend the final page reminding you that even while this year-long maxi-series was going on, there were still other event comics happening at the same time. The very last page of this issue shows a news broadcast from Washington D.C. (Not to be confused with Washington Marvel.) The subject of that news broadcast? To lead into the next few issues actually being a tie-in to an even worse event storyline: Amazons Attack.

Well, at least something on the cover actually happened this issue. Oh, wait, that's the same praise I gave to the previous issue last time. Well, then maybe I got nothin' for this one. Congrats to Holly for finally showing up five issues in, though. We got all our storylines now!

Would you believe I completely forgot this contained an Amazons Attack tie-in? Like, can you blame me, though? Amazons Attack might be one of the most pointless events in all of comics, and I'm saying that reviewing Countdown in 2024. Like, someone suggested I do The Death of the New Gods after this, and I'm willing to take them up on that! If anyone recommends I should review Amazons Attack after this, I'm going to tell them to eat lead paint~

#comics #reviews #Countdown #Countdown to Final Crisis #Taiblog

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luna-nigthshade-wood · 2 years

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What they don´t know, will hurt them

Summary: Dean Winchesters attempts suicide on a dirty motel bathtub, ending brain dead on a hospital. A trickster promises John and Sam that he will save him for “free”, as long as they both get through watching a series of Dean´s memories, good and bad. The twist is that they will feel everything Dean did at the time and they can stop it at any time, but then Dean will die. They both accept thinking it cant be that bad. Spoiler: it is worse.

Chapter 25

As the hope lingers in the room, Sam cant help but feel dread about the events that are to come, he wishes he could be optimistic, he really does, but he cannot longer deny the bitter truth, knowing the longer the memories go on, the closest they are getting to the inevitable end.

“Hope is what will kill you at the end” is a phrase John remembers hearing her mother said all those years ago to his aunt after his cousin got diagnosed with a fatal disease, John being a teenager never quite understood what his mother was referring after all hope is supposed to be the last thing to lose, isn’t it? Now, he gets it, though, as he is sitting here, watching Dean´s memories and trying to cling to the thinning rays of hope, he gets what his mother was talking about. A husband who loses his wife is a widow, a kid that loses his parents is an orphan, but how do you call a father who loses his son? (A dead man walking, his mind supplies)

The screen turns up again, interrupting the Winchesters thoughts, and they brace themselves for what is about to come.

Despite their pessimist, excitement is the thing that fills the room, tinted with some nervousness, as the screen shows Dean outside the place where he is supposed to take his big test, surrounded by Bobby, Cassie and Rhonda.

-I cant do this- Dean says bouncing in his place, nervousness filling his tone- I need more time to study

-You got this, boy, don’t you go doubting yourself now- Bobby reassures him

-But I cant, what if I make a fool of myself?, I don’t even remember more than 12 numbers of Pi

-Winchester, you always make a fool of yourself, that has never stopped you from being the best- Rhonda tells him- Also, I am pretty sure they are not going to ask you that

-You don’t know that, what if they do and I am the only one who doesn’t know?

-Dean- Cassie says holding his hand- Breathe. You got this, cowboy- she says giving him a sweet kiss

-I got this- Dean responds, giving them a boyish smile before entering the building.

The scene fast-forwards a few hours later, showing a smiley and triumphant Dean getting out of the Hall, proudly showing his results to his family as they all congratulate him, Dean accepts the hugs as he proclaims:

-Nice to know, I am more than just a pretty face- he says laughing

And with that phrase something breaks inside Sam, because he knows where his brother got the idea that he wasn’t smart, fuck does he knows, and it is not fair, because Sam should be there celebrating and congratulating his brother, he should had been the one to helped Dean study, but then again Dean probably wouldn’t have taken the test if Sam had been there, would he? Because for all that Sam nagged his brother about not getting a higher education, he was the first to put Dean down when he showed even a little of his intelligence, after all Sam was supposed to be the intelligent brother wasn’t he? He asks himself bitterly.

John has many regrets, but the thing he regrets the more is missing so much of his oldest son´s life, he was so sure of himself that there would be time when he caught the thing that killed Mary, he promised himself to do better once his quest was over, that he would give his boys a childhood once his revenge was seethed, except that when it was finally over, when he finally turned around to see what had been in front of him, it was already too late, he missed everything and now the only thing left was regret.

Through those intrusive thoughts, the scenes continue, happiness filling the room as it shows snippets of Cassie and Dean going to the movies, eating dinner together, going out to bars, to the mall, to the park, Dean driving Cassie to her work, Cassie taking Dean to an art gallery, both of them so happy with each other, that for a moment everything else stops.

Of course, because this is Dean´s story, that happiness doesn’t last and the world comes crashing down, beginning with a phone call.

The screen changes, this time showing Dean waking up, with Cassie besides him, domesticity clear in the scene. Dean tries to get up before a hand stops him:

-5 more minutes- Cassie says sleepily, making Dean laugh

-You said that 5 minutes ago- he responds- C´mon Cassie, you’ll be late- Dean says while putting a t-shirt on- I will make you breakfast if you get up now- he bribes

-Well, why didn’t you start with that?- Cassie says finally getting up- I am going to take a shower and I expect breakfast when I get out, gotcha?

-Gotcha- Dean responds

The scene changes this time showing Dean kissing Cassie as she leaves, before she says:

-See you later, cowboy, I love you- she tells him

-I will see you later, beautiful- Dean responds with a smile, a smile that peels off his face as Cassie drives away

-There are three words, Winchester, goddamn it, why cant you just said it?- he tells himself as he is cleaning the table- C´mon, you’re a big boy, you can do it- he says gritting his teeth

Dean´s inner monologue is interrupted by the sound of his cellphone ringing, which Dean answers without a thought, thing that he will probably regret later.

-Hello?- he responds

-Where the fuck are you?- a gruff voice says at the other end

-Dad?- Dean asks startled

-No, the tooth fairy, of course is me- John responds sarcasm dripping- I will ask again where the fuck are you?

-I am in South Dakota, sir- Dean responds

-Well, I need you in Indiana, now, I have a case and I need back up- John answers- So drop whatever you are doing and come meet me to the coordinates I am sending you

-Dad, wait, look, I cant just up and leave, I have the beginnings of a life here, I mean I could probably…

-I am sorry- John interrupts- I thought I was talking with Dean, the one that understood the importance of the mission, didn’t know I was talking to the selfish brat known as Samuel- he says anger in his tone

-Don’t call Sam that, he is not a selfish brat just because he wanted to go to college- Dean defends, white knuckles clutching the phone

-Yeah, sure you will defend him now that you have what did you call it “the beginning of a life”, thought that I have raised you better than that, thought you loved your mother, my mistake then

-Don’t say that- Dean says- Don’t say that about mom, you know I love her

-Then prove it, and stop being a coward- John taunts- I expect you here tonight

-Wait, dad- Dean tells him- Look, I can be there by tomorrow, but not tonight, I have to tell my girl I am leaving for a few days

-A girl? A girl, Dean, really? One that lasted more than one night? Have you learned nothing? We cant afford to have someone waiting us at home, it will only end in tragedy, I bet she is a civilian too

-Well, yeah, but…

-You know what? Fine, whatever, I will see you tomorrow I guess, just don’t come crying when this blows up in your face- John says hanging up

-It wont, dad- Dean tells the empty room- Cassie will understand, you´ll see

Except she wont, Sam thinks. Sam knows how this story ends and it doesn’t end pretty, he could tell himself when they met up with Cassie again, the devastated smile and the longing looks Dean gave her were enough to clue him in. Because Dean truly loved her, but at the end it wasn’t enough to make her stay.

John hears in horror the manipulative words his younger self throws his kids, the hypocrisy dripping in his tone and he hopes that Dean and Sam never find out about Adam, because then they will realize that for all that John berated them for having a partner, he was the first to go play house with another family.

The screen flash-forwards to that night as a painful scene plays out in front of them. The screen shows Cassie arriving home to see Dean sitting at the couch, duffel bag besides him, Cassie asks him what is wrong, and Dean tells her, he tells her everything, about the hunt, about the supernatural and about the mission, and there is hope in Dean´s tone as he finishes explaining, hope because Cassie didn’t interrupt him, hope that perhaps his father is wrong, hope that Cassie will still love him, hope that is quickly squashed down by Cassie´s next words

-Get out- she says, voice firm and cold

-What?- Dean asks stupidly

-I said get out- Cassie repeats

-Wait, Cassie…

-You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have just said so, you didn’t need to go invent all that Hansel and Gretel story. I really thought you were the one- she tells him bitterly

-Wait, no, I am not lying- Dean tries to defend himself

-Even worse, then, what kind of psychopath thinks that monsters are real, huh? Hell, I knew you were screwed up in the head, but monsters, really?- she tells him- Get out of my house and don’t you dare coming back

-Cassie, please don’t do this- he pleads

-I didn’t do anything, you did it yourself, now get out, before I call the cops- she yells

-Alright- Dean accepts numbly, taking his duffel bag and heading towards the door, he turns around one last time, telling her- For what is worth, I am sorry

-I am sorry too- Cassie responds- Sorry that I wasted my time with a psycho like you- she says closing the door in tears, leaving a devastated Dean standing in the porch

Dean climbs into Baby and drives and drives and he keeps driving until Cassie is miles away and the road is empty, only then he stops and the numbness gives way to sadness, sadness that gets the waterworks going for what seems like hours and perhaps they are, as by the time the tears in Dean´s face finally stop, the sun is already rising, Dean gets out of Baby and he exclaims yelling at the sky

-I get it, okay, I get it- he yells not caring he is in the middle of the road- I don’t deserve happiness, I don’t deserve a girlfriend or a house, I am a hunter, I will always be a hunter till the day I die, I am worthless, I am screw up, and I will never amount to anything else, I will die bloody one day, hopefully on a hunt but probably by my hand, is that what you wanted to hear, universe?- he screams before silently whipping his tears and climbing once more into the Impala and driving away.

John considers if it wouldn’t be better if he pushed the button, the red button that as time passes looks even more seductively, because he cant take this anymore, he cant take seeing his son suffer knowing that deep down it is all his fault, knowing he caused this, but he knows that pressing the button would be selfish, because he wouldn’t do it for Dean, he would do it to stop his own suffering and he deserves to see and feel every single thing he caused.

Sam throws up once more, just when he thought Dean couldn’t break more, this happens and he wonders how did they miss so much.

The next scene starts this time showing Dean and John sitting inside a bar, after catching the monster of the week, John drinking his beer slowly and Dean drinking shots as if they were water

-You were right- Dean says- About the girl, didn’t work out

-I am sorry son, but man like us, we are not meant for the white picket life- John says, and present John cringes at his past self

-Yeah, I get it now

-Nice job, down there, you are a good hunter, cling to that- John tells him, getting up and patting his back

-Where are you going?- Dean asks

-Have a one-man job line up- John tells him- I will call you if I need backup

-Alright- Dean says finishing his shot and signaling the bartender to serve him more- See you- Dean says to the already retreating figure of his father.

Another drink, becomes three, and before he knows it Dean is quite drunk, normally he would have stopped but this time he keeps drinking and drinking until he passes out inside the Impala.

What follows next is the stuff of nightmares for John and Sam as they watch as Dean continues drinking going from bar to bar, he is half-sober when he meets her, her being a girl named Lisa, who takes him to her home, where they proceed to have marathon sex over and over again for the weekend. Of course the Winchesters don’t see the act itself, but there are enough fragments for them to get a clue. John doesn’t get why this is important, but Sam understands it perfectly, there is a coldness and numbness to Dean that shouldn’t be there, his movements are robotic, his smile is plastic and his eyes are miles away and not exactly because of the alcohol, this is his big brother dissociating, this is Dean resigning himself to a life of suffering, this is Dean giving up (this is Dean trying to have one last hurray, is the thing that Sam refuses to even think)

The scene with Lisa ends with Dean leaving her house after the weekend, taking a shot of his flask. The next scenes are all jumbled together as Dean submerges himself in the hunt, no longer caring about his wellbeing or his health, they show a ruthless Dean, hunting things and saving people, they also show him being reckless, drinking on the job, and getting drunk afterwards, declining calls from Bobby and Rhonda and even Caleb. He becomes the most efficient hunter that John has ever seen, but then again, John thinks, the most dangerous man is the one who no longer has nothing to lose and no longer fears death.

The screen finally stops at an abandoned church in the middle of nowhere, noises can be heard as furniture is drag around on the inside of it. Poltergeist, Sam and John both think, as they watch Dean getting out of Baby and stumbling towards the scene. And John wants to stop Dean, his son is in no condition to hunt if the lose clothes and the stumbling are anything to go by, but as he has learnt there is nothing he can do but pray that nothing bad happens.

What follows breaks something inside Sam as he watches his brave and broken big brother being thrown around like a rag doll by the Poltergeist and it then in the middle of the fight when Sam notices something else, Dean has stopped fighting, because in reality the abandoned church is in the middle of nowhere, yes, there is a poltergeist in there, but Sam is almost 90% sure that it hasn’t actually hurt someone, the structure of the building too weak for even the most adventurous to get in, which means that Dean seek this hunt, this hunt where he knew it didn’t matter whether he beat the monster or not, this hunt where nobody could see him give up, this hunt that they could blame for his death, this hunt Dean is using to kill himself, Sam´s fears are confirmed when the creature attacks his brother and he doesn’t move out of the way, no, Dean accepts the finality of all as the being throws him out of third-floor window, leaving him a bloody broken mess in the floor, as he exhales with a smile

-At least, I will get to see mom again- he smiles before passing out.

And just like that, the heart of the Winchesters break once more, there is nothing they can say or do anymore, because even if Dean lives, it is only delaying the inevitable, and they cant do nothing but watch as Dean takes one step more towards his death

First chapter <<Previous Next>>> AO3

#supernatural #supernatural au #supernatural fic #spn au #spn fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #bobby singer #cassie robinson #rhonda hurley #bad parent john winchester #suicidal dean winchester

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princess-pathetic-112898 · 2 years

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*pst* Hey Disney instead of whatever mess the Rescue Rangers movie is gonna be let me revitalize the Disney Afternoon & Roger Rabbit continuity by making a Toontown series that stars all the toons. I have tons of ideas:

- Drake is constantly trying to hide that he’s Darkwing but everyone in town knows and they’re all like “dude chill it’s fine we got you” but it never registers with him because maintaining a secret identity is such a crucial part of the superhero career.

- Roger & Jessica are as happy in marital domestic bliss as ever while supporting each other’s careers and they’re basically the heart of the community.

-The two also have a side job as PI’s after being inspired by their good pal Eddie Valiant and they frequently work with Darkwing, the Rescue Rangers and Bonkers

-One of the first episodes is them meeting their new neighbors and it turns out it’s Goofy yes THE Goofy starting anew- Max and Roxanne are engaged & PJ is studying the arts with Vicki (the Beret Girl who I chose to name after her voice actress Vicki Lewis). While all this is going on Peg finally left Pete, took Pistol with her & got together with Goofy so they’re adjusting to life as a blended family in a new home. Roger is beyond ecstatic that his celebrity idol is his new neighbor but worried he won’t be worthy of the Goof Man’s company. Then it turns out Goofy is a huge fan of Roger’s work and they bond and Jessica and Peg are BFF’s and when the older kids come over for a house warming party everyone does the Perfect Cast and it’s good times all around.

-In the years since the Toons inherited Toontown Scrooge McDuck and Shere Khan have been at each other’s throats for the title of Top Toon Tycoon™️

- All those gosh darn Duck kids are always up to some new shenanigan. Louie’s looking to get rich, Dewey’s looking to get famous, Webby’s looking for adventure, Lena’s looking for fun, Violet’s looking for knowledge and Huey only wants some calm and order, with Boyd as his emotional support. As per usual, Donald needs a nap.

-Baloo and Launchpad have dogfights all the time just for fun. It always ends in a crash because yes. Kit and Gosalyn are very well acquainted by now.

-Gadget is revolutionizing Toon Technology and demanding that humans take their innovations seriously. It’s an uphill battle.

Give me the power Disney let me save you from yourselves-

#fan post #fan rant #Disney #disney afternoon #disney cartoons #who framed roger rabbit #roger rabbit #jessica rabbit #roger x jessica #ducktales #darkwing duck #chip n dale rescue rangers #good troop #a goofy movie #bonkers #talespin

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nifolution · 2 years

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Dirty Secret 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers & Mutant Reader

Summary: A two year relationship kept in the dark. Will it survive? An unexpected arrival puts it to the test. The choices ahead can make them stronger or destroy them.

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, insecurity, betrayal, cheating, smut, fluff, arguments, Steve being a jerk, stupid Steve, fighting, jealousy

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 1st & 3rd person. 18+ only due to smut. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Chapter 1 Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 2

Steve wouldn’t tell me where our 1st date would be. I wasn’t sure what to wear so I went with a casual yellow dress. He asked me to meet him in the parking garage.

When I arrived, he was standing by his car waiting. Shit, was I late? His stunning smile assured me I wasn’t.

Steve opened the car door for me. Then ran over and got in himself. “So, are you ready to go?”

“Yes… Where are we headed?”

Steve smiled and indicated to look in the back. On the rear seat was a folded blanket and a picnic basket. An actual fucking picnic basket. I had no more questions.

Steve drove for a while, I wasn’t sure the exact destination. He stopped the car seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Trees all around, no sign of people or civilization.

He opened my door and helped me get out. Grabbing the basket and blanket, he asked me to follow him. As if I’d say no.

After only a minute we came to a clearing. It had lots of plush grass, dandelions and wildflowers. The birds were chirping and I could hear water not far away. It was so romantic. I couldn’t stop smiling. How did he find this place?

Steve laid out the blanket. Giving me a great view of his behind. He offered me a seat before settling himself. I watched as he started pulling out the food he prepared.

Steve took out a few containers and bottled water. One container had celery, carrots, and hummus. Another had cheese and crackers. The last contained grapes, strawberries & three Oreos. “Dessert,” he explained. The last items he took out were two, slightly smooshed, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I laughed. “Sorry, I’m not much of a cook and the kitchen wasn’t stocked.”

“No, this is great. You did a good job.” And I meant it. Smashed sandwiches and all, this was wonderful.

He smiled at me again. Oh…that smile. We began eating and conversing. I tried not to let the jitters get the best of me. I wanted to pinch myself to make sure this was real.

Steve noticed me rubbing my bracelet. “Hey, I wanted to ask, why do you always wear this?” He held my wrist, caressing the pink and purple woven jewelry. “I’ve never seen you without it.”

“Um, yeah I don’t take it off.” I continued to let him touch it. “Back when I first got my abilities, I worked for a PI who specialized in missing persons. I was proud of that job. Sneakily stealing files and information, even from police. And when possible, rescuing lost people. Lacey made me this bracelet after I took her from her abductor. She was only nine. We got to her before she was hurt.” I couldn’t help tearing up at the memory. “My job ended when my boss was killed. I lost my apartment and my livelihood. I needed money so that’s how I fell into the whole thieving thing.” I looked off, embarrassed. I know Steve knew that part, but I still hated admitting it.

“We all make mistakes, Y/N. You used what you had to get by.”

I turned back to Steve, “I want you to know I’m grateful for the chance you’ve given me. I know I’m not a soldier or an assassin or a genius or a hulk. I’m just me, a freak of nature.“ A poor substitute for the people that left, in one way or another. I kept that part to myself. "But I will keep working, I want to be good enough to join. I want to be an Avenger.”

Steve held my hand, “You’re more than enough. I can see your potential, Y/N. That’s why I push you so hard, so you can see it too. I know you can do this.” He smiled at me reassuringly.

“Thank you, Cap… er, Steve.”

His smile fell, “Um, look… I feel like I need to apologize again for the other night. I lost control. I’m your captain and I crossed a line I shouldn’t have.”

“Then why did you?”

Steve met my eyes, “Because I wanted you.” He took a deep breath, “But I began to worry about hurting you or scaring you off. I’d rather have you as a friend, than not have you at all.”

“Is there a rule against us dating?” God, I hoped not.

“No, but some may frown upon it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s the last thing I feel around you.” I suddenly felt emboldened, “You can have me, Steve. You can lose control with me, I want you to.”

Steve broke the eye contact, deep in thought. After several minutes of staring at his shoes, he broke the silence. “Have you… have you told anyone about our date?”

I was slightly confused why he was asking, “Um, no. I was too nervous. I didn’t really have anyone to talk about it with anyway.”

“Do you think that maybe we can keep things between us for now? See where this goes before we let anyone else know.”

“I see,” I said apprehensively.

“You know how the team loves to be in each others business,” he continued. “We could avoid the gossip and meddling.”

“Ok, just us,” I agreed. I didn’t want anyone thinking less of Steve for being with me. I’d rather have him in secret, than not at all.

We toasted with Oreos and continued talking, enjoying dessert. I watched him chewing on a strawberry. He was growing his beard out. He looked so handsome, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and touching it.

“Does it bother you?”

“I like it,” I assured him. “It suits you and makes you look sexy as hell.”

His ears tinged pink and he smiled, “If you like it, then I’m definitely keeping it.”

I continued stroking his beard, he caught my hand and placed soft kisses on it. Now I was blushing.

“Do you want me, Y/N?”

“Fuck yes!” I practically launched myself at him, smashing my lips to his.

He kissed me back, pulling me onto his lap. My dress hiking up with the action. He began playing with my hair. Getting a good grip, he pulled just enough to send shivers down my spine. Kissing and biting my lips, hands roaming every inch of me, my whole body felt electrified.

Steve gently tugged the top of my dress down exposing my chest. His hands massaging my breasts, pinching my nipples. It was naughty being out in the open like this. It only added to my arousal.

I screamed in surprise as he suddenly flipped us over. He was now hovering above me, smiling and stripping his shirt off before diving back in. He took his time fondling, kissing and sucking each breast. I moaned in pleasure, hands in his hair.

My breathing became erratic when Steve slipped his hand into my panties and started gently playing with my clit. Running his fingers through my folds, “So wet for me.” He kissed me hard, before pushing two fingers inside, pumping them in and out. He continued kissing down my body. Sucking and biting his way to where his hand still toyed with me.

I was on fire, heart pounding, aching for more. My toes started to curl, the tension in my belly unbearable, I was so close. “Please, Steve.” I whined embarrassingly loud when he suddenly pulled away.

He chuckled, sucking his fingers. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” he slid my panties down my legs and pocketed them. “I just want you to come when I’m inside you.

I went a bit light headed watching Steve opening his pants and pulling them off. He was big, more than I expected when feeling him the other night.

Steve repositioned himself between my legs. I went to reach for his beautiful cock, yearning to feel the velvety skin in my hand. The adonis above me had other ideas. In one swift movement, Steve collared both my wrists, pinning me to the ground. Fuckkkkk. And here I was thinking I couldn’t be more turned on by this man.

Steve would later tell me that even though it was day, at that moment he could see the subtle glow of my body. It’s how he knew I was ready for him.

He kissed me deeply and bit at my neck. Releasing one wrist, Steve grabbed his length, teasingly rubbing himself through my wetness. His husky voice whispered, “You can take me, can’t you pretty girl?”

I smiled and bucked Into him.

“So eager. But I need you to use your words Sweetheart.”

“I need you inside me. Please fuck me,” I desperately begged.

Steve smiled devilishly. Slowly pushing himself inside me, my slick walls welcoming him inch by inch. Once fully seated, we shared a gentle kiss. He releases my other wrist with the praise, “Good girl.”

The tenderness ended there. Steve began thrusting into me at a brutal pace. He felt amazing and the grunts and moans he made only heightened the euphoria I felt. My entire body embraced him, nails digging into his back. Holding on for the wild ride.

The kisses were now rough. All teeth and tongue. Steve growled into my mouth as he took what he wanted. Pain and pleasure beautifully mixed, any coherent thoughts I had left were pounded away.

The coil in my belly once again wound unbearably tight. I couldn’t hold it anymore. My legs shook as an intense orgasm washed over me. My head was thrown back and my light flared brightly.

As I came back to myself, I noticed Steve stopped moving and stared at me. I froze, embarrassed. Shit!

Steve locked eyes with me, panting “That was so fucking hot.” He pulled me in for another steamy kiss before pulling out of me. “Turn over,” he ordered.

I bit my lip and eagerly obliged. Yelping when Steve slapped my ass. Then mewling when his long arm wrapped around me and he rubbed my aching clit, running his fingers through my soaked folds.

His other hand gripped my hip tightly, sliding his manhood back in with ease. “Say you’re mine, Sweetheart."

"Yours,” I breathlessly replied. And I meant it. I would forever be his.

The rest of the date passed in a sex fueled haze. I think I may have passed out at one point. But as high as he made me, Steve was there holding me after, bringing me back to earth with soft kisses.

The sky became beautiful shades of orange and pink. The birds were still singing. Steve held me tight in his arms. It felt right, it felt perfect. Steve was perfect. The location was perfect… I would cherish those grass stains forever.

I never did get my underwear back.

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

It was thrilling at first, sneaking around. Having this secret relationship with a teammate. It was sexy and romantic. It wasn’t forbidden, but hiding it made it feel that way. Just the right amount of wrong to make us crawl back for more. It felt special, hot, kept us on our toes.

Steve was an attentive and passionate lover. The sex was incredible, electric, addictive. He would pull orgasm after orgasm from my body, leaving me dazed and feeling like jelly, walking funny the next day. He was intoxicating, had me completely under his spell. I tried my best to keep up and show him just as much attention, if not more.

Most of the time we fucked like animals, rough and demanding. Steve loved being in control and I was too happy to let him lead. It was like we had this insatiable hunger that couldn’t be satisfied until we were alone. The buildup of secret glances and touches throughout the day made it so much better. Having to hold back, made each night more explosive. We’d just go crazy on each other. When Steve was feeling particularly bold, he’d whisper dirty things in my ear when the others were around. Well, that usually led to quickies in nearby closets or his car. The risk of getting caught a huge turn on. What a rush.

Other times it was slow and intimate. Like we had all the time in the world to enjoy exploring one another. He would take me apart then put me back together with his embrace, his kisses, his sweet words. He would hold me after, leaving lingering kisses on my head, telling me he loved me. Sometimes Steve and I would just lie in bed, cuddling and talking about our days. That was my favorite. I loved him completely.

We cherished having this level of privacy, this secret place just for us. He was mine and I was his and there was no reason to involve anyone else. That bubble we had continued to grow to Steve’s room. It was our own paradise. My powers made it easy to sneak into his room without being seen. Or to orb out to a date. In the bubble, he belonged only to me. I didn’t have to share him with the world.

Nowadays everyone shares everything on social media. Every aspect of their relationship, and every breakup. I can understand why he wanted to wait to tell our friends. If we didn’t work out, things would be weird for all of us and may jeopardize the team dynamic. The secrecy kept the pressure off of us. No obligations except to each other. We didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

Steve is making love to me, my face cradled in his large hands, staring intensely into my eyes, telling me he loves me again and again. This was all that mattered, this secret moment. This was my choice, my place and I never wanted to leave.

Chapter 3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers angst

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cockslutpadalecki · 3 years

Text

All The Good Girls Go To Hell (14)

Summary: When Sam marries into Y/N’s family he naively believes she’s a little princess incapable of putting a step wrong. But once he comes face to face with evidence that proves she’s far from angelic which also implicates his own brother in her misdeeds, Sam finds himself battling against his own moral judgement.

Characters: Step Dad!Sam x Step Daughter!Reader, Uncle!Dean x Niece!Reader.

Words: 2330.

Warnings: stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, step uncle/step niece relationship, oral sex (male and female receiving), sexting, rough sex, major degradation, dirty talk, female masturbation, daddy kink, size kink, cheesy double entendres, Dean's filthy whore mouth, consensual amateur pornography, thigh riding, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, threesomes, face/throat fucking, overstimulation, dom/sub themes, Sammy being an absolute deviant, cream pies, sloppy seconds, cum eating, spit-roasting. Assume all tags will apply to every chapter and warnings may differ/alter as story progresses.

A/N: When I 'ended' this back in October, I didn't realise how burnt out I was with the story, trying to put so much pressure on myself to try and outdo every chapter. But now I've come back to it and worked on the ideas I had when I was initially going to continue it, I'm so happy to be back with it and I hope you guys are too! Beta: @deanwanddamons but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.

Chapters fifteen and sixteen already available on Patreon.

SERIES MASTERLIST

A sharp chime followed by a dull buzz against Sam’s thigh pulls him from his trail of thought. As he blinks, again re-focusing on the room around him, he can’t even remember what he was thinking, except that it wasn’t anything to do with the TV show playing out in front of him. He slowly sits forward, sliding his cell from his pocket as his heart pounds inside his chest, childishly hoping to see Y/N’s name on the screen and her now usual text, composed of nothing but a solitary X.

To begin with, the messages were unexpected, first appearing a little after eleven one night while he was working late, the sweet candour of it filling Sam’s chest with a flutter of joy. She hadn’t sent another for a couple of weeks after that, but over time they became more and more regular, and he found himself waiting longingly for the little bell sound to ring out, alerting him that she’d text.

He never expected or demanded anything from her, but whenever she’d get caught up with friends, or lost track of time studying, meaning she forgot to send her cute little X, melancholy always managed to swallow him up.

There was a time right after that first night at Dean’s when he and his brother were her whole world— she would make the most of any opportunity to be with them, to kiss, to touch, to fuck, but since she had left for college, and had created a new life away from the both of them, the less and less she checked in.

Sam glances down at the screen, heart dropping as he finds Dean’s name staring back at him. He debates ignoring the text, slipping his cell back into his pocket, when Audrey’s voice startles him.

“Work?”

“No, err, just Dean.” Sam clears his throat. “Woman trouble.”

He catches sight of the minute eye roll coming from his wife as she shifts into a different position on the sofa, pulling a cushion under her arms to cuddle into instead since Sam had moved.

“When isn’t it?” she chuckles to herself as Sam stands up, shuffling quietly into the kitchen.

After making sure that Audrey hasn’t silently followed him in to grab another bowl of popcorn, he finally opens the message to find it’s only three words long.

> She’s in trouble.

Sam’s eyes narrow in scepticism at the message. If she was in trouble, he’s pretty certain he’d know about it already because regardless of their complicated— inappropriate— relationship, he finds she still relies on him for fatherly duties, and he is more than happy to allow her that, secretly hooked on her dependency.

< What do you mean, trouble? He types back.

Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then reappear.

Jesus Dean, I don’t need an essay, Sam rebukes his brother internally, and eventually a small sentence pops up.

> Check Facebook.

Huh?

Sam closes the message, his thumb moving to hover over the blue and white icon. He palms the cell into his left hand, retracting the thumb of his right into his fist and curls his fingers around it, giving them all a little stretch before taking the cell back. He finally presses down on the singular F and impatiently waits as it loads on the screen .

It’s the first post that crops up on his feed, and he can feel his stomach dropping like a lead weight. Y/N’s been tagged in a group photo, and Sam finds her immediately, despite the fact she’s in full Halloween fancy dress as, what he assumes is, a dead slutty nurse.

She stands surrounded by a throng of overly tanned but zombified jocks with one of the poorly-costumed boys standing behind her with his hands cupping her breasts. She’s laughing like it’s no big deal and Sam can almost hear the sweetness of it ringing in his ears. She doesn’t care that the boy is groping her, doesn’t care that it’s been posted online for everyone to see.

And as he stares down at her, the quiet admission that he could probably pick her out of a crowd a hundred people deep, her eyes calling to him like a siren song, somehow makes him even more incensed.

Heat rises from the tips of Sam’s toes, up through his legs, into his stomach, and spreads over his chest like wildfire. It fans out across his neck, like he’s been submerged into a steaming bath, and he begins pacing the kitchen in a futile attempt to cool himself down.

He argues silently with himself for a few minutes— a constant back and forth, wondering if it would be too much to turn up at her dorm tomorrow, demanding answers. It wouldn’t be a matter of trying to convince Audrey of anything— a simple client/lawyer issue that would take the weekend to rectify, however something other than a lack of guilt tugs at his subconscious.

Deep down he knows he really has no authority over Y/N despite their arrangement, but he can’t help but be incensed at the sight in front of him, nothing but pure ire fuelling his fingers to type out his message to his brother.

< Pack a bag. We’re going to Oklahoma.

The painful trill of your alarm feels like it’s piercing your skull as you roll within your tangled sheets to reach over, finally managing to shut it off with a groan. Your head is throbbing against your pillow as you check the time, horrified you’ve slept right through your day’s lectures. Shifting onto your back, the ear-splitting pound seems to get louder with every movement until you realise the dull thump thump you thought was coming from inside you is, in fact, coming from the entry to your dorm.

Getting out of bed causes you tremendous pain, but you manage it anyway, practically dragging yourself to the door on all fours. You pull it towards you, ready to tell your afternoon caller to leave you to die, but the sight of your step-uncle standing in the doorway is enough to make you sober up immediately.

“Dean?” If standing still in complete silence hurts, then speaking all but damn near paralyses you.

Why on Earth am I shouting?

“What are you doing here?” You manage to croak despite your dry mouth. Have you slept for an entire week? Because as far as you can recall through your migraine, he’s not meant to be here until at least next Tuesday.

“We need to have a little talk about that frat party you went to last night.”

Ugh, the party.

All that alcohol on an empty stomach, and little to no sleep for the past three days was so not a good combination. You just want to crawl back into bed and sleep this hangover off, but with Dean on your proverbial doorstep, and Sam lurking god knows where, you now know that’s extremely unlikely. Squeezing your eyes shut, you delicately pinch the bridge of your nose.

“You couldn’t have just called for this lecture?” Your eyelids slowly winch back open in protest, catching him shake his head, so with a heavy sigh you add, “nothing happened, Dean.”

The older man’s not buying it. He stares down at you with a scrutinous stare— one that he’s clearly learnt from Sam, and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the door frame. Despite how ill you feel, your pussy has other ideas, deciding to throb at the way the green eyed man is looking at you.

How dare he turn up here looking so goddamn attractive?

“I mean, the guy grabbing your tits on Facebook says otherwise.”

You scoff, giving your shoulders a light shrug. “He’s nobody. Just some dumb jock who ran up behind me at the last minute.”

“Sure he did, baby girl,” he jeers.

You pout like a brat, your voice high-pitched and whiny. “It’s true, Dean!”

He laughs, stepping towards you. “Almost forgot how cute you are when you have a tantrum.”

Bringing a hand up to cup your face, his teeth pull at his lower lip as his thumb teases yours. Stomach flipping, your nausea is rapidly absorbed by familiar heat as you catch the hint of lust in Dean’s eye.

“M— my roommate is gonna be back any minute.”

“It’s 2 in the afternoon. She’s probably in a lecture, just like you should be, Princess.” He slides his hand around to the nape of your neck, and pulls you closer, breath hot on your cheek as his mouth grazes yours.

“Does Daddy know you’re here?”

“He’s the one who sent me,” he says before edging back, and you find yourself groaning inwardly. “Now, c’mon get your shit together. Daddy wants a word.”

The short drive to the hotel is uncomfortable. You can’t talk freely, worried in case the cab driver overhears something he shouldn’t, so you slump down into the seat, cuddling your coat tight to keep the warmth of your body heat in. Dean keeps his eye on the view whizzing past his window, occasionally glancing over at you, almost like he’s making sure you haven’t magically disappeared from the seat beside him.

You managed to swallow down two Advil before you left, but the powdery taste still clings to the roof of your dry mouth even as you shakily sip on a bottle of water you sneaked from your roommates’ side of the refrigerator. Your headache still lingers slightly as the cab pulls up outside the hotel, and a seed of apprehension settles low in your belly, ready to bloom into full blown fear the second you lay your eyes on Sam.

Dean swipes the key card through the lock waiting for the green light to flash before you push open the door, expecting the reprimanding of a lifetime. Sam made it clear when this began that only he and Dean could have you, which you were more than happy with. You didn’t want anyone else, but you couldn’t keep yourself cooped up in your dorm all the time. You just wanted to let your hair down and party with kids your own age for once. But your naivety led you astray, because of course they would find out about the boy in the photo.

Your uncle follows you inside, carrying the small overnight bag he told you to pack with a few essentials. You knew then that this wasn’t going to be a brief visit by any means, not that you expected any less from either of them anyway even when you weren’t in trouble. They never just “popped” to the neighbouring state on a whim. It was always meticulously planned to the minute— every second accounted for and each of those minutes were spent naked or tangled up in wrinkled bed sheets.

You hear Dean dump the bag onto the floor behind you as you glance around the room, eyes finally landing on Sam who is sitting back against the headboard of the luxurious queen sized bed, one long leg crossed over the other.

Light stubble peppers his jaw, and as if on instinct, your thighs clench to the thought of his beard leaving rawness in its wake while his lips follow, soothing the tender skin with feather light kisses.

His eyes slowly travel up your body, pausing to marvel at the way your yoga pants hug your hips and his tongue pokes out, giving his lips a small lick. “Hello Y/N.”

“Hi Daddy,” you squeak in response.

“Nice of you to join us.”

“Well,” you say, “didn’t exactly have a choice.”

Sam chuckles softly. “You always have a choice, Princess.”

You’re distracted by the minute nod the younger Winchester gives to his older brother, who suddenly turns and strides from the room.

“Where’s he going?”

“Don’t worry about Dean, he’ll be back soon.”

Five uneasy minutes pass as Sam questions you about college— questions he more than likely already knows the answer to, but you know it’s just to divert you from bringing up the reason you’re really here, and it’s not to talk about the study group you formed with your roommate Lesley and her best friend, Kit.

He’s just asked what your intended Thanksgiving plans are— whether you’ll be home to celebrate it with him, your mom and Bobby as the door swings open and Dean re-enters, hand in hand with a brunette dressed in a tight black number. She flashes you a gorgeous, red-lipped grin as he pulls her past you, and when they come to a stop on the other side of the bed, you take a moment to examine every inch of her closely— from her expensive Louboutins to the figure-hugging dress clinging to all the right places, you imagine she’s just stepped out of one of Dean’s deepest fantasies, and the thought turns your stomach. They’ve never brought another woman into the mix before, and it suddenly makes you feel inadequate.

“Who’s this?” you question, eyes narrowing at your uncle and the unknown female, who you assume must be a hooker.

“Ah, she’s nobody.” Dean mimics your earlier words, moving to stand behind her.

He begins sliding his hands up her waist, pausing to cup her breasts in each hand, and she lets out small breathy gasps as he pinches her hardening nipples through her dress. It’s about now that you wish you had never agreed to this arrangement— it was never clarified he couldn’t sleep with other women while you were away, and it was obvious Sam would still have to fuck your mom to keep up the facade, you knew that. The thought was always at the back of your mind, but you never gave it the attention it screamed out for, yet here it is in vivid technicolor, with his lithe hands currently sliding her thong down her stocking-ed legs.

“Strip,” Sam commands from the bed.

“What—”

“You know how I feel about asking you twice.”

***

Please note I have tagged you if you showed interest in the story so far. If you’d like to be taken off, please let me know.

ATGGGTH: @slut-for-jared @squirrelnotsam @awesomesusiebstuff @deans-baby-momma @xhannahbananax03 @atc74 @wavesofafeather @spnfamily-j2 @pastathighs @passionpunch @southernbell91 @beautifulbowleggedangel@welldonebeca @bobbie3939 @kazkingdom @lyarr24 @nihilismworld @charmed-asylum @sycochick @sandlee44 @stuckys-whore @moosekateer13 @beth-winchester21 @yoongi-holland @waywardson2020 @lovelyrocker @dr7girl @fictionalabyss @midnightmystic @abbirae99 @kricketc29 @the-fever-of-mankind @maresmiley @rebel-author-chick @salt-n-burn-em-all @desisamslut @okilover02 @kittenofdoomage @kittenmstr @destielstuffandthings @chamberofsloths @quietgirll75 @splendidcas@amisha25 @chenshemesh1 @queenmadi2 @spideysimpossiblegirl @i-make-questionable-choices @bitchoftheclouds @amirra88 @nerdwholikesword @4theloveoffanfiction @djj1999 @nurse-unicorn @spaceybissh@deanandsamsbitch @im-catching-feelings @ficpantry @winchester-girl96 @omgspnfanfiction @mistofellee @flutistbyday2020 @polyamorous-winchester @idabbleincrazy @mstsukii @allinhishands @winchesterswoonathon @traceyaudette @jbbarnesgirl @jbbarnesgirl @cluz1babe @why-hello-sweetheart @why-hello-sweetheart @ares-raye @stayfrostystilinski @flamencodiva @lady-pswrld @fandomismyspirit @high-ashell-hargrove @patrick-hockslutter @biceraswitch @bee-a-sams-girlx @nekocookie11 @beardburnsupersoldiers @cltex84 @hhiggs @d-whinchestergirl87 @bxxbxy @pandaxo79 @mrstarksslut@deandreamernp @wonder-cole @deep-in-my-thoughts13 @strawqerrybby@deansmyapplepie @bxnnywriting @ladydeathboobs @supernaturalgrandma@knuffeltuff @quietwitchsworld @melancauliflowers @meeshw777 @ladywinchester1967 @my-obsession-spn @lifeofrileyp @annaisha74 @supernatural3002 @rattwritesfics @bobbysxidgits @bangtasticbobby @taintedgenre @j-ai-adore-dean @asgoodasdancingqueen @fortheloveofallthatsholy

Supernatural: @angelofthetrenchcoats @ambthegamer @akshi8278 @alex-443 @becs-bunker @blancatobarxoxo @caspleasesavemyass @clemanime @deanwanddamons @deans-mind-palace @deanwinchesterswitch @deanloveboi @dawnie1988 @doctor-hp-mcu @ellewritesfix05 @fandom-princess-forevermore @fanngirl19 @gayasslookinass @gabbywindsor @heavensangel45135 @hoboal87 @hobby27 @homeward-fics @inlovewithspencerfuckingreid @katymacsupernatural @joseyrw @michellemxndes @mrswhozeewhatsis @p---ink @peachyafshawn @patrick-hockslutter @pinkshenanigan @quxxnxfhxll @spnbaby-67 @stoneyggirl @sammykb1994 @sharp-cheekbones-locked @shylittlewolf @sidbecross @swinchester27 @samwinchestersbitch555 @tumbler-tidbits @tootsie562 @tvdspngirl314 @uncreativezx @vicmc624 @winchest09 @waywardbaby

Forever: @anaelsbrunette @akumune @amandamdiehl @buttercandy16 @crashdevlin @castiel-has-bees @daughterofthenight117 @donnaintx @dandywinchesterbras @dumbbitchenergy17 @death-unbecomes-you @demonxbloodrunsthroughtheseveins @foxyjwls007 @goodnightkookie @hurricanerin @hoewkeye @heyyouwiththeassbutt @ilovefanfic86 @itsjustfics @itsthedoctah10 @imyournewfairygodmother @imcastiel-youassbutt @jewelswrites-ish @jenmisheels-bi-kid @letsby @letsdisneythings @multi-fandom-fanfiction @maddiepants @mogaruke @my-fav-imagines-17 @nightsbite @notyourtypicalrose @onethirstyunicorn @pink1031 @princessmisery666 @petitgateau911 @randomparanoid @rain-dance-goblin @ssworldofsw @sambucky8 @sea040561 @sillygoose6969 @sweeterthanthis @softie-socks @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox @yaynewton @zpandaqueen

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content.

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses.

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.”

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.”

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qslovebot · 3 years

Text

Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #emily prentiss #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer x y/n #cm #aaron hotchner #mutual pining #romance #spencer reid fandom

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years

Text

iii. Cola, Lolita Series

My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola. My eyes are wide like cherry pies. I gots a taste for men who are older. It's always been so it's no surprise

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, drinking, age gap (22 vs early 40s), oral (male receiving)

Words: 2419

Summary: Y/N calls Andy from the club and gives him a new lease on life.

Andy Barber is enjoying the most mundane adult evening of his life. It’s a Saturday night, the boys had all decided to go on a camping trip, guys only of course. Y/N was nowhere to be found when he got home from the gym, and he honestly enjoyed the thought of having a quiet night to himself.

He had taken a shower and afterwards had cooked himself a meal for one: steak, baked potato, and a salad. He washed it all down with a glass of wine, one of the aged bottles he had kept when Laurie was moving her stuff out. Andy had sat down on the couch, comfortably sprawled out watching some new action film that Jacob had recommended.

Not a thought ran through his mind as he sat and watched the first half of the movie, and honestly it was nice. He was tempted to turn off the movie and call it an early night, his plans interrupted immediately when he felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his sweats.

He pulled the phone out and stared at the screen, his heart racing in his chest as he looked at the name displayed. “Hello?” He answered on the third ring, holding the phone up to his ear.

“Hi boss-man Andyyyyy.” Y/N sing-songed on the other line, Kendrick Lamar’s ‘Humble’ blaring loudly through the speakers behind her.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Andy questioned; concern laced in his voice.

“M’not.” She giggled, holding her phone out to yell at some dude that was trying to ask her to dance. “I went to the club downtown with a friend tonight and she left. What a bitch, right? Anyhow, can you pick me up pleaassseeee Andy. An Uber would be like sooooo expensive.” She moved the phone from her ear to shout out some of the lyrics to the song before coming back to the screen.

“Uh, yeah. Send me the address and I’ll come get you. Are you drunk, y/n?” He stands up, walking to his bedroom and shimmying out of his sweats to put on a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt.

“Not drunk, just a bit tipsy, ya know? I’ll be waiting for you on the dance floor!” She screams, and before Andy can protest, she’s hung up the phone, a loud sigh leaving his lips. So much for his mundane adult night at home.

It didn’t take Andy more than fifteen minutes with Google Maps on to get to the club, having a valet at the door park his Audi for him before waiting at the door for the bouncer to let him in. The minute Andy walked inside he was met by flashing lights and a DJ spinning a popular Dua Lipa song. He pushed his way past the crowd of people, eyes scanning for any sign of y/n.

She had mentioned she would be on the dance floor, and the closer he got the harder he looked for her. Finally, after a few moments and mistakenly touching the shoulder of someone with the same hair color and length as her, it was as if the sea of people had parted as his blue hues locked on her. She was obviously gorgeous, every outfit looking stunning on her, but this was something else. It was like the breath was knocked out of his lungs, the two-piece black bodycon skirt and cropped spaghetti-strapped top revealing every curve of her body. Where the seams would normally be sewn on each side of the thin fabric there lay open strips of rhinestones. The rhinestone strips left the sides of her top open to reveal a healthy amount of sideboob, the skirt revealing the curve of her ass, no panties or bra underneath.

Andy couldn’t help but watch her sway to the music. She looked so carefree, minus the occasional guy that she shooed off with a flick of her wrist. After the second guy had approached and left defeated, Andy walked up, tapping her on the shoulder. As soon as she saw him a huge smile spread across her luscious lips.

“Andyyyy.” Her eyes traveled up and down his body, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. She was devouring him with her eyes.

“Hey, y/n, let’s go.” Andy nodded towards the door and y/n let out a huff, grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards her.

“C’mon, dance with me.” She purred, trying to tug him further into the crowd with her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, y/n, besides you’ve had one too many drinks.” He contested, y/n’s eyes rolling back into her head.

“M’not messed up, I’m fully aware of my actions. I even drank some water before you came. Now.” Her tone is filled with lust, motioning him towards her with her finger. “Are you gonna dance with me or what?”

Andy’s head is screaming logically to not do this, she’s Jacob’s friend from school and he was also older than her, and her boss. But before he can protest his feet have a mind of their own and follow her deeper into the crowd on the floor.

He’s not sure what to do, standing there awkwardly as he watches her body shimmying in front of him. The song quickly changes, the new hit by Lil Nas X ‘Montero (Call Me By Your Name)’ blaring out of the speakers.

“C’mere.” The chorus of the song comes and y/n grabs Andy’s hand, tugging him closer to her until she turns so her back is flush against his chest. She moves the hand she’s holding to her waist, tugging the other down to the opposite side before grinding her body back against him.

Holy shit. This is really happening. Andy’s heart is pounding in his chest, rocking his hips forward into her, his hands gripping firmly against her waist now. He can hear her screaming out the lyrics to the song as they dance, tugging at the nape of his neck, craning her own so that she can meet his gaze finally.

Their eyes stay locked as the song ends and another starts, and Andy can feel his painfully hard cock in his jeans. Her eyes move to glance down at his lips and then back up again to his face.

“Come with me.” She whispers, grabbing his hand again and tugging him out of the crowd of people towards the back of the club. Andy is blindly following her, his cock still pressing against the front of his jeans. God, this was so embarrassing.

She snakes her way around the throngs of people until they reach the back wall, the bathroom sign hanging above their heads. The line for the women’s restroom is long, the men’s restroom door a few feet down a separate hallway with not a single soul in sight.

Glancing back at Andy she tugs him towards the door of the men’s restroom, looking inside and under the stalls to ensure that it was completely empty. She pushes open the door fully, motioning him to come in with her.

The heavy door closes behind them, y/n immediately pushing Andy until his back gently hits the wall beside the door.

“I see the way you’ve been looking at me. It’s hard not to notice.” Andy’s expression is a mix of both shock and excitement, his eyes trailing down to meet hers.

“We can’t…” Andy trails off, y/n shushing him with one of her fingers.

“We’re both adults here, and I can make my own decisions. And this is my decision.” Before Andy can protest again, y/n stands up on her tippy toes in her high heels, crashing her lips against his fervently.

He’s confused at first but quickly gives into the kiss, her lips tasting like rum and Pepsi-Cola. His lips melt into hers, moaning into her mouth as she parts her lips, his tongue exploring further. Her hands are roaming first through his hair, tugging lightly as they continue their kiss before roaming them down the taut muscles of his arms.

Finally, she presses her body against his, feeling how hard he is through the denim. She breaks the kiss, eyes wide like cherry pies and lips swollen from their actions.

“Get in the stall.” She commands, nodding her head in its direction. Andy’s breathing is ragged from their kiss, but he does as he’s told, walking into the stall as y/n follows behind and locks it after she enters.

“Have you been thinking about me at night?” She asks, moving to stand in front of him and slowly undoing the buttons on his jeans.

“Wait, what?” He questioned, his cock twitching as the tension of his jeans were removed, y/n pushing them down along with his boxers, his hard cock springing free against his chest.

“I said.” She gripped his cock in her hand, looking up at him. He was definitely way bigger than anyone she had ever been with, which made sense considering Andy was all man, nothing about him being boyish.

“Have you been thinking about me?” She asked again, his breath hitching as she started to pump his cock in her hand, barely being able to grip it.

“Y-yes.” Andy stammered, a groan escaping his lips as she continues to pump him.

“Tell me you want this Andy, and I’ll get down on my knees right now and give you release.” She met his gaze, a choked-out moan escaping his lips.

“Please.” Those were the only words she needed to hear before she dropped down to her knees, the cold tile soothing the heat coming off her body.

“Wanna taste you.” She preened, taking Andy’s cock into her hand and lapping gingerly at the tip. He could’ve come just from the sight of her before him, but he wouldn’t, he wanted to savor this moment.

Y/N held up his cock, licking a stripe from the base to the tip before suckling on the head, eliciting a groan from deep in Andy’s throat. She tasted the precum leaking from his tip, her thighs clenching together. This wasn’t about her pleasure; this was about Andy’s. And she wanted to show him just how seductive she could be.

Her lips curl around his girth, bobbing her head back and forth along his length. He’s not just thick but long, and she struggles to take him down, eyes watering as she brings her face closer and closer to his pelvic bone.

Her eyes look up to meet Andy’s as she pulls off him with a wet pop. “Is this what you wanted? To see my mouth stuffed full of your cock?” She pursed her lips, her core dripping underneath her skirt.

“Yes, god you look so pretty down there. My little Lolita.” He praised, keeping his gaze on her. Her lips curl into a seductive smirk, batting her lashes at him.

“Want you to use me, I know you’ve thought about it. Want you to cum down my throat.” Her words urge him on, his hand grabbing a tight fistful of her hair and guiding her back down onto his cock.

Andy’s not going to last much longer, bucking into her mouth and listening to the sloppy sounds of her gagging on his cock. It’s a beautiful song on her lips and he watches as some of the saliva from her lips runs down her chin and onto the floor.

“Fuck, y/n, m’gonna cum.” As soon as the words leave his lips he’s steadying at the back of her throat, holding her on his cock as he cums deep down her throat, giving her no choice but to swallow. Y/N takes it in stride, swallowing all the sticky substance and milking his cock before letting go of him. She stands back up, taking her thumb and wiping against the corner of her lips, rubbing it across her bottom lip before straightening her outfit.

“It’s late, we should head back.” Y/N turns to unlock the door of the stall while Andy pulls his clothes back on, her eyes meeting a man who she hadn’t heard come into the restroom, standing at the urinal with his jaw agape.

After leaving the bathroom Andy and Y/N burst out laughing about the man in the restroom, walking towards the front door of the club and out to the valet where they waited for his car. As soon as the man at the valet brings his car back, y/n slinks into the passenger seat, tousling her hair with her fingers.

“That was…” Andy trailed off, roaring the car to life and starting down the road towards home. Y/N leaned her head back, looking over at Andy. “That was a one-time thing.” She stated, looking back out the window.

“Are you sure about that?” He quizzed, stopping at the red light on the street and looking back at her.

“Guess it depends on if you’re worth it or not. You’ll have to wait and see.”

Andy didn’t know why, but he wanted more. He wanted much more with her. She made him feel alive, feel young again. She made him feel wanted, something he hadn’t felt with his ex-wife in such a long time before their divorce. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing her shivering in what little fabric that covered her skin. Bringing his hand into the backseat, he reaches out and pulls out one of his buttons up work shirts, handing it over to her.

“You’re cold, put this on.” She silently thanks him, pulling the shirt on and buttoning it halfway, the shirt smelling strongly of his cologne. They sat silently for the rest of the ride home, y/n looking out the window as they drove.

After about five minutes of silence they arrived back at the house, walking through the door in the garage and into the house. She knows things are complicated now, but she doesn’t care. She’s lived her life free as a bird, boys wanting her but never acquiring her. What would be the difference now?

“Thanks for coming to get me.” Her voice is soft and honest, turning to look up at him. They’re inches from each other again, Andy closing the distance this time to kiss her lips, y/n pulling back with a smile.

“Goodnight Andy.” She heads towards the stairs, turning back to look over her shoulder one last time at him. “Oh, and feel free to jerk off to thoughts of me any time.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff @rattlemyb0nes @rootcrop @goldenboysteve @turtoix @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @ccmarvelxx

#doubleleoenergyseries: lolita #DLE Series: Lolita #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader #andy Barber x reader smut #andy Barber #andy barber smut

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loveofafangirl · 3 years

Photo

I Know What You Are

[Baron Zemo Masterlist] [Marvel Masterlist]

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Baron Zemo

Synopsis: Sam and Bucky have a disagreement. Zemo decides to weigh in. This takes place during The Falcon and the Winter Soldier series. *Humor(I hope)*

Word Count: ~900

A/N: I wanted Sam and Bucky to argue over something ridiculous, and this is what happened.

"Says the guy with the staring problem," Sam pronounced.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky's gaze narrowed at his companion as his pacing came to a halt.

"Oh, I don't know," Sam cocked his head, his argumentative tone growing louder in the hallway outside the apartment safe house. "Dude watched her sleep! Just staring, probably unblinking. Of course, you'd not see anything wrong with that."

"He was admiring her. It's romantic."

"He was stalking her. It's disturbing."

Bucky scoffed. "So you mean to tell me that the hot-headed wolf was better?"

"At least Jacob treated her like a human instead of dinner."

"Edward never—And anyway, Jacob was like her brother," he cringed. "They made mud-pies."

"It's called friends to lovers. Maybe you haven't heard of it since you seem adverse to the concept of friendship."

"I have friends," he lied. His gaze lowered, his sullen expression etching deeper on his features. He had a friend, but he was gone. "Anyway, as a friend, he should have respected her wishes instead of forcing himself on her."

"As if Edward ever gave Bella a chance to make her own decision."

"He was protecting her."

"He was controlling her!" Sam disputed.

"To protect her."

"That's not a thing!"

The Winter Soldier growled in frustration. His gaze shifted to the sock on the outer door to the apartment. They had returned from scouting the area to find the garment on the door. They had been pacing the hall ever since. "How long has it been?"

"Don't try to change the subject."

"I wasn't trying to change anything," Bucky bickered. The sleeve of his shirt slipped up. The Wakandan metal glinted in the light.

Sam snickered at a new thought.

"What now?" Bucky practically rolled his eyes at the sound.

"I just thought of something."

"I don't want to know.”

"Too bad!" Sam smirked, nodding toward his arm. "With that cold Vibranium, you can glitter and sparkle in the sunlight just like your pal, Edward."

"I hate you."

Sam bellowed and pressed on. "Aren't you supposed to be some White Wolf or something?"

"So?"

"Wolves are pack animals. They stick together. You really willing to go against the pack for this?"

"It's a metaphor." Bucky kicked the door in frustration. "You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I wouldn't understand?" Sam challenged, raising his voice.

"No."

"You sound just like him. Tell me, is it all 100-year-olds that think they know best and should make decisions for everyone, or just the two of you?"

The pair was so focused on their heated disagreement they hadn't noticed Zemo open the door. He watched curiously, his mouth slightly agape, his finger raised, waiting for a pause in the conversation.

"It's called life experience."

"Being sullen and brooding isn't life experience."

"If I might interject?" Zemo offered.

"What?!" Sam and Bucky yelled almost simultaneously, turning in sync to the man wearing only a plush bathrobe and slippers.

"Perhaps it is that you are both misinformed," he countered.

Bucky's face scrunched as a scowl pulled.

Sam crossed his arms, arching his brow. "So, now the terrorist has input? This I've got to hear."

Zemo's lips pressed together in amusement. His two traveling companions were little more than children in his eyes, neither thinking calmly or rationally, each with his own flawed outlook on life. They couldn't see the bigger picture.

"Isabella was a child who was pursued by an ancient being old enough to be her great-grandfather." His head quirked toward Bucky. "And a creature lacking self-control, who let his emotions run high." His gaze shifted toward Sam. "Neither suitor offered an appropriate or viable path." His head tilted to the side, his gaze challenging them both. "Isabella should have continued with her studies, created a path for herself, and left the town to live a human life."

"That's not—"

"But, what about—"

"And we're not—"

"Definitely not."

"Are we?"

"As you can see, the only logical and absolute resolution to your quandary is to allow Isabella to live and to live well, away from the two monsters who both refused to let her do just that." A sly grin seeped across his features, his eyes narrowing smugly. Zemo turned back into the apartment, leaving the speechless pair behind.

"Where's the girl?" Bucky sputtered after a minute, trying to regain himself.

"Girl?"

"The girl?" He emphasized, nodding toward the door. “Or... boy?”

Zemo quirked his head to the side, studying them in feigned innocence.

"The sock on the door?" Sam clarified.

"Is that not how you Americans signal the need for privacy?" His Cheshire smile widened as his brow arched.

"What do you need privacy for?" Sam scoffed.

"I mean—" Bucky gestured toward the man still in his bathrobe.

"Yes. Indeed, James." Zemo's fingers flitted over the soft fabric and down his chest. "I needed an afternoon of relaxation. You refused to allow me a trip to a resort spa, so I had improvised. My sensitive skin was desperate for some attention."

"I'm going to kill him," Bucky stated, pointing to Zemo.

"You know what?" Sam shook his head and stepped aside, facing Zemo. "I'm going to let you."

"Gentleman—" Zemo's head tilted again, his hands lifted up defensively. "I'm sure we can come to an agreeable solution here. Perhaps I can offer you some jasmine tea?"

"I don't want any damn tea." Bucky pushed past him. "Just get dressed."

Zemo's gaze followed the Winter Soldier as he walked away.

"We've got work to do."

Thank you for all of your support. If you would like to be added or removed from my tags, please reach out 💖

Marvel Perma(til the end of the line): @the-soot-sprite; @fandomxreaders ; @moonstuffsteve

Zemo tags: @montypythonsholysnail ; @killsandthrills ; @noavengers ; @nalabarnes1031 ; @trelaney ; @willowtheewisp ; @marchingicenotes7 ; @valquiria3000 ; @zemo-is-my-muse ; @coffeewithoutcaffeine ; @charistory

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chispas-and-broken-bindings · 3 years

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I really wanted to get the next chapter of Nothing Sacred, All Things Wild up this week, but work was crazy and I also got caught up in another story (I can’t control my muse)...so instead I’m offering up a long snippet of the dystopian/space colonist fic I started off a prompt I got a while ago for an “Arranged Marriage + a/b/o” request I got from an anon.

A/B/O is not my cup of tea, so I twisted it into an arranged marriage by an artificial intelligence instead:

He wakes up angry, sweat soaking through his pillow, heart racing, stomach cramped. The alarm is buzzing from somewhere beneath the bed, where he must have knocked it.

“Turn it off,” Ygritte mutters into his shoulder, before rolling away with the rest of their thin blanket.

He complies, letting the shock of the cold floor against his feet spur him into full wakefulness. “I take the test today.” It’s raining. He watches the drops splatter against the small window near the ceiling, and he wonders if Ygritte remembered to check the bucket beneath the leak before she crawled into bed the night before.

Their garden apartment doesn’t do well in the rain. Jon still doesn’t understand why it’s even called a garden...there’s nothing green about their cramped basement residence, besides the mold growing beneath the sink.

“Oh yeah. Happy birthday...we’ll get drinks when you come home.”

“If I come home.” He could be part of the one percent, after all. That is the Institution's promise. Everyone is SOMEONE. Anyone can be part of the 1%. Are YOU?

Jon knows it’s unlikely. How could he, an orphan from Mole’s Town, have the magic combination of pheno-, geno-, and personality type to be chosen for the Colony? No...he’s just another loser of the 99% who will waste his twenty-first birthday behind the Brutalist concrete walls of the Institution’s testing center, playing lab rat for the day, until the examiners come to the inevitable conclusion that he’s just another nobody.

They’ll spit him back out on the street, leaving him free to carve out a pathetic existence on a slowly dying planet.

He doesn’t bother washing. It’d be a waste of precious water when he knows full well they’ll scrub him down at the testing center. Instead he spends his last moments at home drinking a pot of weak coffee, trying to remember anything he was taught in the schools he barely attended. His energy would be better spent bracing for the coming indignity of having every part of his body and mind exposed and dissected.

“Is the area of a circle, two pi times the radius? Or is that the circumference?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ygritte lights a cigarette at the stove before joining him at the table. “It’s not that kind of test.”

He knows that. It’s another Institution promise. The Test doesn’t ask WHAT you know. It asks who YOU are. Are YOU the 1%

How the fuck would Jon know? It’s easier for him to remember that the area of a circle is actually pi times the radius squared, than it is for him to explain who he is. He has no idea. That’s kind of what being an orphan is all about.

Ygritte could at least throw him a bone and tell him what the test is like. She took it two years ago, though she won’t talk. Most people won’t. There are no rules against it, but The Test is treated like dysentery. Unless you live behind the gates, you’re going to get it at least once in your life, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna go around describing your diarrhea to the world.

Grenn went to White Harbor for the test a month ago, and though Jon had to buy him six beers and two shots of whiskey before Grenn would shut up about his first-ever train ride, he did give Jon a few insights into the rest of the experience.

Not that the train isn’t worth the excitement, especially when the ride is paid for (another Institution promise. No matter your means. No matter the distance. EVERYONE makes it to the Test. Are YOU the 1%?) Technically, Jon has taken it once before, from Winterfell to Mole’s Town as a baby, but he doesn’t remember.

Now he can’t believe anything that moves so fast could feel so smooth. He’s topped out at ninety miles per hour on the best snowmobile Donal Noye patched together, but that left his teeth rattling and his ears buzzing for hours afterward. The train is moving at double the speed, but he could be in the godswood, for how quiet the near-empty economy cabin is. He shares it with a twitchy young man who never looks up from a cheap tablet, and a black raven perched in a large cage who spends the entire ride staring at Jon with one eerie black eye.

The testing center is located just across from the train station, in an intimidating building that used to have a name. Jon has a vague memory that it was a prison before the Institution took it over. Before that it was something else.

He doesn’t balk when a masked orderly leads him to a small room, tells him to strip, and then takes off with his clothes. He knows they’ll be returned at the end of the day. Of more pressing concern is the man and woman who enter talking too quietly to make out at the other end of the room, while a nurse rolls in with a small cart covered in collection tubes, gauze strips, and butterfly needles.

Everyone wears surgical masks, latex gloves, long white coats, and black clogs.

Jon remains naked beneath a small paper covering.

He has given blood before, and the messy, life-saving transfusion Mance performed to save Tormund three years ago was far scarier than the rapid, methodical draw that's taken from him now. Still, it’s disconcerting to think of the secrets the Institution will glean from his blood. He’s uncomfortably aware that they’ll know who his parents are before the day is over, even as he’ll continue living in total ignorance.

Another Institution promise. The Institution values EVERYONE’S right to privacy. YOU control the right to tell the world who you are. Are YOU the 1%?

Before he’s finished the recitation in his head, five tubes are full, and the nurse pats a cotton ball and a band-aid over his arm. She tosses a granola bar on his lap before rolling out of the room with her cart of samples.

Next comes a physical exam, where the other two examiners speak only to each other as they record his height, weight, blood pressure, and note his every blemish and scar in flat affect.

“Post-burn contractures across the palmar and dorsal aspect of the left hand, adduction and extension in the metacarpophalangeal joint of thumb fall outside normal range of movement.”

“Keloid scarring along the right gastrocnemius muscle, five point three centimeters in diameter.”

“Slightly hypertrophic scarring beginning at left brow and running medially down across the left orbital cavity to the cheek. No ptosis noted. No apparent damage to the eye.”

He should feel worse beneath the weight of each fault. Instead he relaxes. He was nervous for nothing. Failure was always inevitable. The Institution would never invest in a malnourished kid with a burned hand and a badly healed leg wound. They are famously secretive about their selection process, but some reasons for failure are common knowledge. As the crows like to say, no cripples, bastards, or broken things.

So, he chews his granola bar slowly and even closes his eyes for a bit, letting the examiners move his limp limbs as necessary for their measurements. He imagines himself a cadaver during the early stages of an autopsy.

As long as they don’t cut me open….

When an white-haired man enters and lays out what look to be a series of tiny torture devices, Jon wonders if he stopped caring too soon. He white-knuckles it through an excruciating dental exam that ends with his first real exchange of the day.

“Have you ever been to a dentist, kid?”

There is still a tube in his mouth, sucking up his spit and a hook pressing at his gums, so Jon just shakes his head. There are no dentists in Mole’s Town. Just Chett, who used to work at a slaughterhouse down south and will pull a rotten tooth for the price of a bottle of whiskey. Jon wouldn’t give the creep the lint in his pocket, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let him near his mouth. Instead he brushes his teeth so hard his toothbrush regularly snaps in half, and prays something else kills him before gum disease has a chance.

“You’ve got better teeth than I see behind the gates, boy,” he pulls the hook from Jon’s mouth to dictate into a small microphone hanging from his mobile workstation. “Review DEFB1 on ID 17630343BA. At some point the focus will need to expand beyond the holy 22 and get back to the basics. Who is going to care about neuron growth if every fourth planter is born with anodontia?”

Jon understands little of what the man is saying, but he’s heard enough to know he’s at least got as good of teeth or better than some of the rich tossers who live within the heavily guarded gated communities where the Colonists are actually culled from. Behind their high walls, wealthy sons and daughters of the only one percent that really matters, spend their youths preparing for the Test in homes and classrooms pumped with filtered air, where the water runs clear, and no one ever goes to sleep with their bellies cramped from hunger or disease.

The Institution promises that ANYONE can be the 1%, but EVERYONE knows that's a lie.

---

The physical exam ends at last, after several more rounds of sterile humiliation. Jon isn’t sure which was worse; having to lie within a noisy cylinder while a disembodied voice reminded him not to move, or being asked to run naked on a treadmill, wired with electrodes.

When it’s over, the last examiner provides him with a sweatsuit that is softer and better-made than anything he owns, and he wonders if there is any way he can smuggle it out with him at the end of the day. Another orderly comes in with a waxy crisp apple that hardly seems real even as a spray of tartly sweet juice hits the back of his tongue. He’s given a pill as well that he swallows down with a cup of water so clear and so cold, it’s an act of incredible will-power not to ask for more.

It’s only after, when he’s led to a small room with two chairs, a table, and a pulsing white orb in it’s center that he thinks to ask what it’s for.

“This will make the answers come more naturally during your interviews,” the man explains before leaving him alone. “We want you to answer as truthfully as possibly, but we understand that can be difficult under the stress of the Test.”

He supposes people lie all the time on the Test, trying to game the system, though Jon doesn’t have the first idea how he’d go about doing that, nor does he have any reason to try. He’s not going to the Colony. This is all just a spectacular waste of time, and it’s a race day, which means he’ll have to pull extra shifts at the Rookery to make up for what he would have made beyond the Wall.

By the time a petite woman with a neat low bun, and cracking, grey scar across half her face and neck enters, Jon is reckless with anger.

“I’d like to go home.”

“Hello, Jon,” she smiles as she sits across from him, and she’s the first person he’s seen since he entered the building who isn’t wearing a mask. She’s also the first person to call him by his name. “My name is Shireen.”

“Where’s your mask?”

Her smile dims slightly, but she maintains her gentle tone. “I’m here to facilitate the interview portion of your Test today. Before we begin, is there anything you need to feel more comfortable? Something to eat, drink, a bathroom break? Should the temperature be adjusted?”

He’s sour with anger so he takes everything she offers, suddenly eager to make everything as inconvenient as possible for the Institution. Shireen takes his requests with an easy smile, however, escorting him to the restroom herself. When they return to the room, there is a bowl of hearty soup with a chunk of bread that is soft and airy beneath it’s golden-brown crust. Beside it is a tall glass of water and a smaller cup of green liquid that Jon eyes suspiciously.

“What’s this then?”

“I thought you might like some juice. It’s mostly apple, with some kale, cucumber and celery in it as well, I suspect.”

It’s the best thing Jon has ever tasted, and while part of him wants to fling the rest of it at her frustratingly serene face, it’d be a horrible waste, and he’d be the biggest loser. So, he takes his time, savoring each bite and sip, rolling the bright flavors across his delighted tongue.

“Feeling better?” she asks after the tray is cleared.

“Is that an official Test question?”

“No.”

“Let’s get on with it then. I can’t afford to miss the train home.”

“As you may know, it is not individuals who decide the 1%. Our artificial intelligence algorithm, The Seven, determines who is the best fit for the Colony. That is how the institution guarantees objectivity in its selection process,” she taps the pulsing orb on the table. “Though we find people are more comfortable responding to another person, so I will be facilitating our discussion as The Seven records and analyzes your responses. Are you ready to begin?”

He shrugs.

“I’ll start with a series of statements. After each, please say a number to indicate the degree to which you agree with that statement, wherein one equals strongly disagree and five equals strongly agree. Three indicates you neither agree nor disagree. Do you understand?”

“Five.”

“Okay. Statement Number one: At social events, you rarely try to introduce yourself to new people and mostly talk to the ones you already know.”

Jon knows everyone in Mole’s Town, and he doesn’t want to socialize with most of them.

“Two.”

This goes on for a while, each statement absurdly divorced from anything relating to Jon’s life, but the numbers spring easily from his lips as he relaxes under Shireen’s soothing voice, and kind face, and the lovely feeling of a full belly and soft, warm clothes.

It’s when the format shifts, that he begins to feel strange. Shireen starts with questions that are easy to answer. Where were you born? How many years of education have you completed? What was your favorite class and why? What do you do for work? Describe your strengths. When are you most satisfied in your job? Do you live alone or with others? How many others do you live with? What is your relationship to the person you live with?

At this point, the questions grow more invasive; more personal. A voice tells Jon that the Institution doesn’t need to know how many times he and Ygritte fuck a week...but the answer escapes all the same.

“Four or five times a week.”

“Do you use contraception methods?”

“No.”

“Do you intend to have children with your partner?”

“No.”

“Given your age and your partner’s, without contraception, given your regular intercourse the odds of conception are--”

“She’s sterile.”

“How do you know that?”

“Most everyone in Mole’s Town is. It’s something in the water, or the air, or our weak genes. It doesn’t really matter the cause. If it’s not the one; it’s the other. She’s been fucking since she was fifteen, and nothing’s ever caught.”

“How do you know that you aren’t the sterile one?”

He shrugs. “I probably am too, but I’m not her first partner as you say. I’m not her second or third either.”

“How does that make you feel?”

He glares, and Shireen clarifies.

“Your partner’s sterility?”

“How do you think it makes me feel?” he pushes back from the table, letting his chair lean back on two legs.

Shireen only gives him a minute shake of her head, and waits for him to answer the question.

“Angry. I feel fucking furious about it.”

“So, you would like to be a father?”

“I’d like the freedom to choose. I’d like Ygritte to have that freedom.”

“What is your least favorite thing about humanity?”

She can’t be serious with that question. It’s like asking him to name all the stars. He takes a deep breath. Shireen waits. He stands up and paces. Shireen waits. He finishes his water and asks for another. Shireen calls for a refill. He drinks that too. Shireen waits.

“My least favorite thing? That we’ve given up. We let this machine,” he points at the orb, “decide who doesn’t have to. It’s like….it’s like the men in Mole’s Town who wander into the snows when winter grows too cold, and there’s not enough food or warmth to go around. Grown-ass men who could be fixing furnaces and braving the cold to find the resources their families so desperately need. Most of the time they don’t even have the fucking guts to tell anyone what they’re off to do. They just wander away one day, and winter takes them.

That’s what the fucking Institution is. We’re all those men in Mole’s Town who’ve just given up, despite the blood still pumping through our veins. We’re sitting around, waiting for winter to kill us, so that a few can live. And there’s no one left to be mad about it either, because it’s a fucking machine that decides our fate. It’s like being mad at the wind. What’s the fucking point? But just because there is no one to be angry with, that doesn’t mean the rage goes away...and winter isn’t killing us fast enough."

“So you want to live?”

“I want humanity to want to live. I want humanity to want most of humanity to live. I want us to care about more than the one percent.”

It feels radical, saying it here; behind the walls of the Institution. It feels like he’s put the last nail in his own coffin. Shireen watches him as he cracks his knuckles, one at a time, waiting for her to say the interview is over; it’s time to go home.

Instead she asks an even crazier question.

“Do you think there is an essential connection between the morality of an action and the morality of the intentions behind it?”

#my writing #work in progress #jonsa fic #jonsa dystopian au #kind of inspired by songs of a distant earth #when I get to the new planet #whenever that happens #shireen!

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

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Title: coward :: choco pies Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: major angst train ahead, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Synopsis: its been eight years since you first met Miya Atsumu, six years since you broke it off. Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion. Notes: I am super happy by the positive response sIKE thank u so much, i hope yall stay safe in this pandemic!

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“...L/N-san, why aren’t you going to the banquet tonight?”

“I’m busy.” you simply replied to your co-worker, not even looking up from the sheets of finance papers in your hands, your brows furrowing in deep thought as you encircled some mistakes on the paper.

“It's the weekend tomorrow!” Aiko exclaims, shaking you lightly, “You can take your work home and finish it there! This is only held once a year and it's your first year in the company! You can’t miss it!”

You finally turned to your over-enthusiastic office mate and narrowed your eyes, “I can’t miss the grocery sale tonight.” You deadpan. Aiko blinks once then twice and suddenly she bursts out into a boisterous laugh, “Y-You got me there, Y/N.” she says, clutching her stomach.

Your expression remains the same though and it slowly dawned upon your raven-haired office mate that you weren’t joking at all, “Oh, you were serious.” Aiko stops laughing, realizing how stupid she must’ve looked. You return to your work but she continues to stare at you, ever since you entered the company six months ago, you refused to attend any work-related parties or do a lot of overtimes (this wasn’t a surprise, you always managed to finish your work before deadline)

No one really knew you at the office, you had a mysterious air around you and a rather intimidating aura that scared about half of the people in the finance department, oddly enough, Aiko was one of the few who approached you and made conversation. It was more one-sided in Aiko’s part though since your replies were usually curt and to the point.

The only thing scary about you was how blank your expression was ninety percent of the time.

“Can’t you go to the grocery tomorrow?”

“Can’t.” Your voice seemed a bit assertive now, “Those limited choco pie editions are coming out and they sold out pretty quick.”

“Choco pie?” Aiko blinked, “Aren’t you diabetic?”

“It’s for my kids.”

Kids.

Kids?

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she cursed, her eyes as wide as an owl, “My kids? You have kids?”

You hummed a reply, continuing your work, clearly not surprised by her reaction since you were used to these types of things, “Twins actually, they’re in the first grade.” you corrected, remaining indifferent.

“You.” she paused, “You, the Y/N L/N, have kids. Like blood-related kids? With a husband and all that?”

“Yes, although the dad moved on.” You stopped encircling the file, a brief memory of the blonde slowly crossed your mind, “He’s in a better place now.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, per say, your ex was technically in a better place now. He’s a famous pro-volleyball player who represented Japan two years ago in the Olympics and was currently part of the top national teams in the country.

You just didn’t bother correcting them when they thought he’s dead.

“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Hm.” You simply hummed a response, “I don’t like leaving them alone a lot.”

“I-I understand,” Aiko sighs, comforting you but it's deaf on your ears as usual, “Have you never considered dating again?”

“Waste of time.”

“Like ever?”

“I’ve got two growing boys, they’re enough for me already.”

Aiko shuts her mouth when she notices that your tone is sharp as if you’re telling her to drop the topic because it’s not in your best interest as of the moment, “May I see what they look like, L/N-san?” she asks in pure curiosity, changing the subject instead.

You simply open your phone next to you and there sits the lockscreen of two wide-grinning and identical-looking boys with raven-colored hair, “They don’t look like you.” she loudly observes but you’re not at all hurt by it.

“They got the best parts from their otosan, I guess.”

The only thing the boys got from you was your eye color, it seemed like they were their father through and through in terms of looks, over-enthusiastic attitude, and love for the sport. In fact, only recently, the youngest twin had expressed his excitement to learn volleyball, the oldest, being the competitive one too, decided to join in and expressed that he had started to truly like it after a class.

Thankfully, your officemate doesn’t pry more about your life. You ended up resuming your work without much disturbance. You try to finish quickly, you have a sale to catch after all.

People often found it odd when you pointed out that you were the mother of Youta and Yuuto, for one, they looked and acted nothing like you. If you had to describe them, it would be balls of sunshine while you were just the gloomy rain clouds looming over them. It was definitely an amusing sight for many when they got to know your dynamic and many wondered how you made it work.

You watched the pair rush down the grocery lane in a hurry as you push the cart filled with essentials needed for this month, Youta was annoying his twin once again as they paced down the snack lane and tried to find the choco pie they’ve been raving about these past two weeks, “Slow down, you’ll fall.” You scolded lightly.

“Hai!” They called out in unison as they went behind one of the shelves, you stopped to take a biscuit off the shelf and read the nutritional facts, keeping an eye out on your boys from time to time. You suddenly felt a presence on your side, were they done taking the choco pie already? Sighing under your breath, you’re getting ready to be fake scared because they loved sneaking up on you but when you feel no tug on your leg, you’re immediately surprised for real by the familiar face in front of you.

“Miya-san?”

You regain your composure almost immediately, not wanting him to notice how tense and scared you were, amongst everyone you had to run into, it had to be the twin brother of your ex, “ Well this is a surprise.” he greets, you could feel the distant tone on his voice and you weren’t phased by it the slightest, after what you did to his other half, you’re surprised he even approached you, “Me and ‘tsumu wondered where the hell you ended up after disappearing on him randomly and breaking up over the phone after a week.”

It wasn’t exactly the best plan but it was the fastest way out.

“I apologize.” You bowed down, you were sincerely sorry about what happened but if you could’ve done it again, you’d do it for the sake of your kids and his career, “Whenever I look back, I knew I could’ve done something better than treat him like that.”

Osamu’s brow quirks up, you were still as calm, cool, and collected as you were six years ago. It was scary how Atsumu fell for you when you were this unphased and cold. What the hell was he on when he fell in love with you?

“Well, thanks to you, he worked himself to the bone.” He shrugs, “He’s got a better life now.”

“I know.”

It may not look like it but from time to time, you’d check up and see how he was doing. Even more so during these days since your boys were getting into volleyball. Youta’s favorite was Hinata since he was one of the small guys in the league and he played very, very well. Ironically, Yuuto’s favorite setter was not his own father but a guy named Kageyama Tobio from the adlers who could set the ball at any place and had the greatest timing ever.

“He’s got a girl too.”

“That’s goo-”

“ ‘Kaasan!” A loud yell bursts out, cutting out the younger Miya twin. Osamu looks around, wondering who the boy was calling but when he realizes it was you, he’s in shock and he doesn’t even hide it. The cold facade he was waving in front of you immediately diminished when two identical looking boys ran to you at a fast speed, one clung onto your leg while the other was tattle-taling.

“Oh, is that Miya Atsumu, ‘kaasan? You didn’t tell me you knew him!” Yuuto points out, staring at the large man in complete awe. Youta who seems to finally notice who the guy was, immediately lets go of your leg and joins in with his twin, completely forgetting about the little spat they have.

“I’m his twin.” he corrects, Osamu wasn’t very good with talking to kids yet they didn’t seem to mind at all, they were still as excited when they realized that he used to play too and was the one who spiked his brothers sets back then.

“Woah,” Yuuto exclaims, “How are you not in volleyball? I betcha as good as him! Mom would comment how good he plays when we watch him on TV and mom hates sports!”

Osamu doesn’t know what to say next, he’s just surprised that you even watched and kept track of his twin brother after all those harsh words you said on the phone, what’s even more surprising was that you were a mom (and someone's wife probably) and you seem to have a good life judging by these kids energetic upkeep.

“...wish we could watch it live though! I heard the adlers and the jackal’s have another game soon!” Yuuto frowns, crossing his arms, “ ‘kaasan’s always busy.”

“How about yer otosan?” Osamu wanted to let that out for a while, he’s very curious to see who you settled down with, according to one of the many stories about you from his twin, you weren’t a big fan of marriage and settling down permanently.

“Oh,” Youta blinks, “Kaasan says otosan’s in a better place now. Do you know what that means, Mister?”

Osamu feels his throat constrict at how casual and nonchalant the boy is, he probably got that characteristic from you. These set of twins dealt with the idea of death way too casually towards a stranger.

“Baby, I think you should give him a rest now. Why don’t you both grab the wafers over there.” You try to calmly take them away in front of the grey-haired man, you didn’t want Osamu to keep interacting with them. There would be breadcrumbs left if the boys kept divulging about their lives towards him, Osamu had always been quick-witted despite his quiet nature.

The boys seemed downcasted right after but they listened quickly and wobbled towards the wafer shelf at the front.

“I thought ya didn’t want to get married.”

“We didn’t,” you blinked, “He was gone before the boys were born, I wasn’t able to tell him.”

Osamu’s eyes narrowed, “You love him or something?”

“I do,” you replied coolly, “Very much so until today.”

“I see,” the grey-haired man was still looking at you, trying to gouge any reaction but you remained the same, “I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“He seems happy and successful now.” was all you could reply to his bitter phrase, “As sorry as I am, I can’t take back what I did. I can only atone and keep moving forward.”

Miya Osamu wants to yell at you because you didn’t see the state his brother was in after you left but he couldn’t bring himself to, after all, it seemed like you were unappalled by him and that his words would mean absolutely nothing.

“Then I hope I don’t see you again, L/N-san.” he spat, putting as much hatred in his words as possible.

“Have a good night, Miya-san.” You simply replied, bowing down.

“I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“Kaasan says otosan is in a better place now.”

“Kaasan, do you think otosan would be proud if I became the super best volleyball player?”

“Stupid, it should be the both of us who’re the best!”

“Yeah! If we became the super best volleyball players, maybe he’d come back from that better place when he sees us on tv!”

You suddenly dropped the plate you were holding, a loud sound resonated in the small kitchen. Shakily, as you picked up the broken shards of the plate, you felt something trickling down your cheeks, “Ah…” you breathed out, wiping out the stray tear.

When was the last time you cried?

“Kaasan?” a small voice called out, you hurriedly wipe out the tears and pick up the broken shards of the plates before turning to the two boys in transformer pajamas.

“Hey.” you tried to reply steadily but the little lump on your throat prevented you from doing so, “Have you brushed your teeth?”

The boys gave each other a quick glance and the only thing they replied with was opening their arms to you, you blink for a moment,surprised by their quietness and their open arms, “When we have a bad day, you’d always do this to us.” Youta mutters, seemingly shy by this, they were never one for big hugs and kisses, saying they were big boys now.

“Did that miya atsumu-fake make you cry, kaasan? Should we get’im?” Yuuto grumbles, their attitude seems to contrast their exciting ones a while ago.

You bend down to their level and just encompassed them in a hug, “Kaasan’s just tired,” you hummed as you buried yourself between them, seeping in the warmth of their hugs and comfort, “I’m all better now, I’ve got you two anyways.”

You placed the small encounter you had with Miya Osamu at the back of your head, not wanting it to be a distraction or a hindrance. You couldn’t cry in front of your kids anymore than that night, you shouldn’t. You were a single parent, the only rock and permanent companion your kids would have for the rest of their lives, you couldn’t let them down.

“L/N-san have you heard?”

Thankfully it was your day-off today and you could pick up the boys earlier than usual. The mom next to you looked more excited and elated, you were betting that this had something to do with gossip around their circles.

“I’m sure she hasn’t, she’s a rather busy mom, akiko-san.” another gushed.

“Ah yes!” she giggled, “Sorry I can’t contain my excitement but Sugawara-sensei is very good friends with a member of the black jackals, apparently he was his kohai back in high school.”

You feel your shoulders tense, it couldn’t be right? The amount of coincidences seemed to hit you like a truck, first osamu, now your kids teacher?

“Ninja Shoyou was it? Yes, well, they’ve decided to host a mini training camp this weekend! All the members would be there! Ah, I hope my boy gets noticed!” Riya grins, “Your boys would be very pumped, right? I personally heard Sensei telling them how natural they seemed to be. They even had their own jerseys made for the class!”

You could only nervously nod along and excuse yourself, you wanted to hurry home and deny your boys to go to this training camp. As much as you supported their love for the sport, you weren’t ready for them to meet him. They loved to blab and if Atsumu were to get wind of them, what would he say?

You didn’t want him to deny them right at their faces.

At the same time, somewhere at an upstate part of the city. Miya Atsumu lays on his bed with a naked woman sprawled next to him. His head’s fuzzy from the alcohol he drank last night and how early he and his partner had finished.

“What the fuck, put some clothes on, ya freak.” He hears his brother curse as soon as he goes out of his bedroom. Osamu would randomly make an appearance in Tokyo to fix up his plans for the franchising of his store.

“Thought you had your own place to crash?” Atsumu ignores his brother’s statement as he grabs a short that had been thrown to the side last night.

“I’m going back later, thought I’d swing by before I went home.”

“How nice of you.” the blonde deadpanned, “You should leave though, Riku’s still here.”

“You don’t say...you lot like to go at it like animals in heat.” he mutters, a look of disgust crossed his features, “I’m just here to drop by some food, I can’t leave you dying.”

“Could’ve left it in the ref and dashed off when you saw the panty on the couch.”

“Again,” Osamu crinkles his nose, “Disgusting. Kita-san would throw some disinfectant at you.”

The blonde rolled his eyes in reply as he grabbed some water by the refrigerator, Osamu watched his brother for a bit, wondering if he should tell him. They’ve never talked about Y/N after that phone call six years ago, he had to walk on eggshells around his brother for a year because of that, taking in a quick breather, he confessed, “I saw Y/N.”

The room turned silent, Osamu waits for a reaction, a curse or anything similar to that yet he’s surprised by the lazy smirk adorning his brother's features, “Hn, it looks like you’re the one who she called and broke up with on the phone.” he laughs.

Osamu is wary but he doesn’t push it, “I was just surprised that’s all, you weren’t exactly in a good place after she left.”

“That was ages ago, ‘samu!” he exclaims, shaking it off, “I betcha she still doesn’t give two shits about me and what happened because that’s how she is but i don’t care because i’m living the life now! I’ve even got a nicer and prettier girl now! Who, mind you, is better than her in many emotional levels. Y/N’s history.”

Osamu didn’t want to tell him about the kids or the ‘man’ you met after Atsumu who you claim to love very dearly so he kept his mouth shut and just went with the flow of the conversation. Not pointing out how his twin just changed the topic right after as if he didn’t want to dwell on it and open anymore wounds.

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#haikyu!! fanfics #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #atsumu imagines #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #coward series

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