#N YEAH. BETSY NEEDS TO SHUT UP

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Arvin Russell (5/5)

Word count ; 3.8k

*Edited

“God dammit!” 

Arvin kicked the side of the car, sending the hood crashing shut again. Out of all the times the car needed to go in to the shop, we were on the run. Luckily, though, Betsy kicked the bucket at a turnpike, so maybe, justt maybe, some kind strangers would pick us up. 

I placed my hand on his arm. “Arvin, we ain’t got time to waste. Let’s just pack up and wait for someone to pick us up.”

He sighed, rubbing my hand fervently. He stepped away from the car. “…Yeah. But we ain’t lookin’ too hot. We’re lookin’ like two dumb teenagers who got knocked up.”

I sent him a grin. “As far as I’m concerned that’s exactly what we are. Although, husband and wife has a better ring ta it.”

Arvin’s cheeks reddened considerably, which made me giggle in delight. I wound to the back seat and pulled out my suitcase. Arvin copied, reaching in the front to snatch his scarce belongings. For someone who originated the plan, he sure forgot to pack much stuff - minus a gun, some cash, and his baseball cap.

We slammed the door shut as cars continued to go zooming past the turnpike. After that, we saddled up underneath the sign and held our thumbs out. While Arvin leaned against the sign, I sat on my suitcase.

I had an acute concept of time thanks to my many woodland adventures. I counted the minutes. But, those minutes quickly turned to an hour, and then several more hours. 

At some point, I had abandoned my arm. It felt completely numb. Arvin had somehow fallen asleep while standing up and having his thumb stuck out. But there were no takers. And we didn’t have time to waste with the cops supposedly hot on our trail. Especially while loitering beside the get-away vehicle.

I rose to my feet, shaking all my aches away. I was growing hungrier by the minute. I walked to Arvin and shook him awake. I was caught off guard by his immediate instinct to reach for his gun, wide-eyed and scared. But the fear melted away when he realized it was just me.

“Calm down, cowboy,” I stated unpleasantly while quirking my brow and backing up.

He frowned, shaking his head. “S - sorry. What… time is it?”

I glanced at the sky, crossing my arms. “About one o’clock. I hate to say it, lover boy, but we need ta get walkin’. My baby’s hankerin’ for some pork ’n beans and we ain’t got all day to sit here.”

Arvin nodded in agreement. “Right. Uh… which way?”

I shrugged. “Right, I guess.” I reached to pull my suitcase up, but Arvin took it from me with a coy smile.

“We don’t want ya exerting yourself too much, mama.”

And so, we walked. I had no idea the distance, but I knew we had walked a ways by how sore my feet were. I was sure there’d be blisters by time I took my shoes off. Arvin didn’t complain, though, so neither did I. And we continued to hold our thumbs out for each passing car. 

None had yet to yield.

My arm was beginning to droop. Arvin was staying strong, but his entire body was slouched. The sun was beginning to set. No civilization was in sight. And my baby desperately needed food. If it had only been me and Arvin, I wouldn’t mind skipping a day of food. But after everything my body had already been through, I needed to keep my baby happy and healthy.

My stomach was beginning to cramp. I halted, hunching over, while clutching my swollen belly. Arvin turned tail and dashed over to me, grabbing my shoulders. He instantly began fretting over me, and I grabbed his hand.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he fussed, palming me all over.

“I… I need a break. That’s all.”

“Of course, darlin’. Take all the time you need. You should - you should sit down.”

He dragged the suitcase over and plopped it on the ground. I used him to steady me as I sat, panting briefly. It felt like my abdomen was pulsing. 

Arvin, though, was quick to walk out to the side of the road once more. His thumb was jutted into the street somewhat, and I could tell he was growing more and more distressed with each passing moment. It was getting late, and soon, there would be no chance of catching a ride. The sun was beginning to set.

I hobbled to my feet, the pain beginning to subdue. I lifted the suitcase upright again, massaging my stomach. I heard Arvin gasp, and I swiftly turned.

As though it were a miracle, a car had pulled up to the side of the road.

Arvin walked up to the window as it slid down. Behind the wheel was a young woman, blonde and petite and pretty. She was the picture-perfect housewife any man would want. Sitting next to her in the passenger seat was a not picture-perfect man. He was grungy and had unkempt facial hair. The double standard between the two was obvious.

The man leaned out with a boyish grin. “Need a ride?”

Arvin nodded, motioning to me. “Me and my… wife here are real tired, sir and ma’am.”

The woman leaned against the wheel, gaze flickering between us. I hovered behind my lover, gripping the suitcase handle tightly. I tried to muster a friendly grin, although my gut feeling was screaming at me.

“Well, hop on in,” the woman exclaimed. “What sort of folk would we be if we turned away a cute couple like you’s?”

“Thanks,” Arvin replied.

He opened the back door for me. I slid the suitcase in first before entering. Arvin sat next to me, wrapping his hand around my upper arm. I was glad not to be the only one with my guard up.

They started driving. For a few minutes, silence fell over the car. However, the couple glanced at us in the rear view mirror often. They were as wary of us as we were of them. However, the man eventually spoke up.

“So, where you’s headin’?”

“Anywhere, really.”

“Just… tryin’ ta get away?” the woman prodded.

“You could say that,” I finally said.

The man chuckled. “I thought you were mute, little lady. Ya got a name?”

“Delilah,” I fibbed. “And this here’s Joseph… You?”

The man peered in the back, sending me a toothy grin. The woman copied. There was something uncanny and sinister in their faces. “Michael and Sarah.”

Arvin squeezed me. I could tell he was trying to fight off sleep. I was, too, but we knew better than to nap. Arvin was silently telling me to cut the conversation short. I did so, sending one last polite smile before placing my head on his shoulder.

Time passed; at some point, they had turned on the radio to some biblical song station. The sun had set a long time ago, and the moon barely surpassed the line of trees. The road was completely deserted. I almost wanted to let my guard down. I was tired, hungry, and exhausted, and I knew Arvin was, too. But his right hand never abandoned his thigh, always close to his pistol.

But if he was awake, couldn’t I get some shut eye?

I was beginning to drift into slumber. The God-worshipping songs reverberated in my head, serving as a lullaby…

“Hey, Sarah, pull over. I need to take a piss.”

I sat up immediately, warily eyeing the pair.

A minute passed, and she had yet to listen.

“Pul over, I say! Dammit, Sara, do ya expect me to piss out the window?” He peered back at us. “Y’all don’t mind, right?”

“No,” Arvin curtly replied.

“See, Sarah? Pull over, dammit.”

“Sure, David.”

Arvin and I noticed. His hand inched closer to his gun as ‘Sarah’ drove off road and pulled up to a lake. Arvin was tense. Before ‘Michael’ stepped out, though, Arvin suddenly stated, "My wife needs. To use the bathroom, too. Don’t ya, Delilah? Go on, now.”

“That’s the spirit,” Michael bellowed.

I gulped and slid over Arvin, stepping out of the car. I knew what he was doing. I didn’t question it for a second. While Michael sent me a gritty stare and marched over to the lake shore, I walked across the grass and went behind a tree. I placed my back against it, nails digging into the bark. One hand lingered on my plump stomach, rubbing it soothingly.

Bang. Bang.

The woman screamed and I heard ‘Michael’ collapse. I heard indistinct yelling, muffled by the metal skin of the car. My heart thumped erratically in my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut. Arvin would be okay. But what if the woman also had a gun? What if —

Two gunshots rang out at the same time.

I was paralyzed, my head connecting the dots.

And I waited.

I heard the car door open. A gun cocked. There was panting.

“Y/n, come on out, now.”

Relief washed over me and I dashed into the open again. Even though the scene was gruesome, the man’s body bleeding out on the grass and the woman’s brains blown against the windshield, I was ecstatic. I couldn’t believe I doubted Arvin for a moment. 

I was about to greet him with a desperate hug, but that’s when I noticed. There was a bullet hole in his shirt.

He looked fine, though.

He noticed my terror and brought his hands to his shirt. He sent me a forced, lopsided grin. “‘Er gun was loaded with fake bullets or somethin’.”

“Oh, thank the lord,” I gasped. 

We finally met in a hug. Arvin, luckily, wasn’t covered in blood. There were a few splatters on his face, but nothing a dip in the water couldn’t fix. I hummed happily, melting in his strong hold. For a moment, I forgot that he had just murdered two more not-so-innocent people.

But then, he released me. He wiped his hands on his pants, turning toward the scene. I gulped.

“What… do we do now?” I asked unsurely.

“I’m goin’ ta search ‘em,” he explained. “You get the suitcase. Let me do the honors, darlin’.”

As I watched him palm the dead man, I ducked in the back. I tried to keep from staring at the woman’s terrified face, grabbing the suitcase and pulling it out. A part of me wondering if they really were innocent. Just because they lied about their names…

“Y/n, come look.”

I wandered over, bending to see what he was holding.

In his grasp was a photo. It was the woman happily crouched beside a naked man who had a bullet right through his chest and forehead. He was pale and limp.

I could only assume that the man was the photographer.

“They weren’t good folk. Not at all,” he sighed in relief.

I licked my lips and moved away once more. I cast my stare away as he searched the woman and car. By the end of it, Arvin had pocketed a wad of cash and an extra pistol. We wordlessly began walking from the scene and returned to the road.

~~~

“Howdy.”

Arvin and I stepped out of the car. He had the suitcase, insisting that it wasn’t right that I was lugging it around. A genuinely kind stranger had given us a lift all the way to Arvin’s home town. We had just been let off outside a small convenient store, to which a scrawny old man greeted us from the porch.

‘I can’t explain it, Y/n. I just feel like I need to see that place one last time,’ he had confided while walked along the road.

And I wanted nothing more than to agree. I had let go of my past the moment I stepped on my mother’s wrist. And now Arvin was going to metaphorically step on his father’s.

I followed Arvin faithfully as he shoved a hand in his pocket.

The old man’s eyes were trained on us. “Ya look like ya’ve been travelin’.”

Arvin decided to stop and chat. He nodded his stiffly, shuffling his feet. I sent the man a small, wrapping my hand around his arm affectionately. “Yeah.”

“Where ya headin’?” he continued, clasping his hands together.

“There, uh, used to be a house on the hill over there. Some lawyer owned it. D’ya know it?”

“Sure I do. Up in the flats.”

“’s still there?”

He suddenly tapped his foot. “Well, I’ll be darned.” He paused momentarily. “You’re that Russell boy, ain’t ya?”

I peered down the road nervously while Arvin nodded. He broke contact with me, stepping closer. “Well, I just thought, since I was comin’ this way, I thought I’d stop by and see the old place.”

The man stood, shoving his hands into his overalls. He sighed, "Son, I hate to tell ya this, but that place burned down some years ago. They think some kids did it. There wasn’t nobody every livin’ there, since you folks.”

“W - well, I came all this way, figure I might as well walk up there anyways.”

“Sure.” The man waved his toward the hill. “Just cut across Clarence’s pasture. He won’t say nothin’.”

Arvin nodded to me and we began walking. I prodded beside him, but Arvin paused one last time.

“I never did thank ya for the night my dad died.”

He chuckled. “Well, you and your little lady can drop by for a meal after, why don’t ya?”

Arvin nodded, and a ghost of a smile tugged at his dimpled cheeks. “Will do.”

Arvin suddenly clasped my hand. We began up the hill, following a paved concrete road surrounded by wilderness. It was quiet, except for the chirping of birds. I smiled, too. All of this… was circling back to the beginning. Our hardest - and hopefully last - journey together started with mother nature, and with mother nature it would end.

Arvin knew where he was going like the back of his hand. He cut off from the main road and started hiking down a leafy trail around the side of the hill. Autumn had come, and not too soon. Our shoes crunched loudly. Arvin held my hand tightly, and his knuckled were deathly white.

“It’s pretty nice out here,” I spoke up, disrupting the silence.

Arvin sighed, nodded. “Yeah. ’T never was ta me, though.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

We dodged a few trees, and Arvin switched the suitcase to the other hand, separating us. I followed only a few steps behind, focusing primarily on the euphoric effect of being in the woods once more. Even with everything that happened, in the woods, I could be free.

But I knew that this wouldn’t be for long. And soon, I’d have to retire my habit of being one with mother nature. I’d have a child and a husband who worked and loved me and I’d take care of the house and kid. I always dreaded becoming a meager housewife, but with Arvin… it was nothing short of heaven.

Arvin suddenly slowed, his gaze glued on the tree on front of us. There was a wooden cross tied to it, crumbled with age. Arvin tensed, but motioned us to go on. Questions bubbled in my throat, but my thoughts were silenced as we shoved through a hedge of dead trees. 

He was set on his path. And I would do nothing but follow.

He stopped, and I crashed into him. But he didn’t budge, seemingly star struck by the sight in front of him. I peered over his shoulder, coming face to face with…. a shrine of some sort.

Arvin dropped the suitcase and reached over the log, rummaging through the leaves. He withdrew… bones.

He sat back and motioned for me to come forward. I hovered behind him, leaning so I could rub his shoulders.

“My dad killed our dog. I figured… I could give him a proper burial. We always prayed here. But God didn’t hear our prayers. God let mama die, if there even is a God. Mama got a proper burial. Dad did, too. But my poor dog,” he chuckled dryly, "he didn’t get nothin’.”

I gave his shoulders one last squeeze and carefully kneeled beside him. “Let’s give him a proper burial, then.”

I pulled at the dead leaves, digging a small hole with my hands. Arvin set the boys beside him and did the same until there was a pronounced but small hole. I sent him a reassuring smile, kissing his cheek before he lowered the bones into the hole.

Arvin smiled again, setting the skull in.

He suddenly looked at the sky as the sun shone down into the clearing.

“I understand now.”

I rubbed his back as he turned to me.

“My dad… he had no choice. No matter what, he had to go wherever ma did. And I can’t help but think if I was in the situation and ya… you know… I would do the same. I would do anything for ya, Y/n. I’ve already killed some bad guys. I’ve got blood on my hands. But as long as you’re with me, I don’t…”

I turned him to me and pressed a gentle kiss, willing all my love into it. He was silenced, and I knew all that I needed to. I understood him. And I couldn’t help but think that I would do the same, so long as my baby would be okay.

Suddenly, he pulled away, furrowing his brows. His jaw clenched and I went still too, fingers remaining on his neck. And that’s when we both heard it. The distant slapping of footsteps along leaves. 

Arvin grabbed my wrist and immediately withdrew his gun. He pulled me to my feet and grabbed the suitcase. We marched further down the trail, trying to be as silent as possible. He stopped at a large, fallen tree. He ushered me toward it, and I realized what he meant.

While he tucked the suitcase along the base, I lay down, pressing my back the leaves beside tree as close as possible. There were large branches above me and Arvin lay beside me. He pulled me flush against my chest and had his arm strewn around my midsection. We were hidden from view, but he was also able to shoot if necessary.

The footsteps were getting closer.

“I know you’re down there somewhere. I just have some questions to ask you.” 

Arvin peeked over the log. 

Bang.

Just as a bird had chirped, a loud gunshot rang out, Arvin trembled and pressed himself back. I couldn’t help but start to tremble. Even with Arvin right beside me, it was hard to keep calm when he was just as frightened. He could try to seem composed, but it was right in his face.

He was scared.

“Sorry about that,” the officer shouted. “A goddamn bird scared me. I ain’t here to hurt you. And I know that you don’t want to hurt me.” The voice was getting closer, but gained no distance. The man had paused. “Come on out so we can have us a talk.”

The man continued to progress. Arvin’s forehead glistened with sweat and hair stuck to his forehead. I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my swollen belly. Arvin’s knuckles were ghostly as he held the pistol, hand trembling. I felt his labored, yet silent, breath against my neck.

He took in one last breath. “Put the gun down, officer! My wife is here and she is with child!”

The footsteps grew closer. I gulped, rubbing my stomach further. 

“Can’t do that son,” he replied. 

“I’ve got this gun pointed right at you!” Arvin’s voice was higher pitched than usual. “Just set it on the ground and walk away. I don’t want ta have to shoot ya!”

“What?”

“Just set it down!”

His pace quickened. I shut my eyes tightly. Whatever was going to happen, I couldn’t watch.

“I promise ya, officer, those people I killed weren’t no good — the - the priest raped my wife and many other innocent women. And that couple was trying to kill us like they did everyone else they picked up!”

The footsteps kept drawing nearer. Suddenly, though, they stopped. Arvin, sensing his closeness, propped himself up on his elbow. I sent him one last fearful glance, but his attention was fully on the environment. The gun was poised, ready to shoot. So I… just stared at the sky. 

Yes. The sky was pretty. The sky was nice.

“Them people, especially that couple weren’t no good, sheriff —“

Suddenly, a gunshot echoed. It hit the tree bark, and a scream bubbled in my throat. Arvin began shooting, and at what and where I couldn’t say. The air was riddled with bullets shooting back and forth, and all I could do was pray that mother nature was protecting us.

Suddenly, one side ceased fire. And it wasn’t our’s. 

I let out a gasp of relief. Tears stung my cheeks and Arvin and I shared a glance. He sat up, panting. He nodded to me, tossing the gun on the ground grabbing my arm.

I sat up as well. I let out a jolt as I noticed the corpse on the ground. It was an officer with a shaved head and a dyed red shirt. He was still breathing, and his fingers where twitching. But he was going to die none the less. 

Arvin rose to his feet. He stepped over the log toward the dying man. He was entranced. The man’s gaze was glued to him, seemingly dazed. I stood, too, grabbing the suitcase. The man and I made eye contact, and I could tell he was eying my stomach. As Arvin hovered over him, the man let out one final breath and passed.

I walked behind Arvin and wrapped my arms around his waist. He was still breathing shakily.

“No… no more of this,” he stated. “We’re goin’ ta have a good life, Y/n. One without any death and decay and… this. We’re goin’ ta have a house with a beautiful baby in a cabin in the woods. And we’re goin’ ta be happy.”

“We are, Arvin. We are.”

“How… how does Cincinnati sound?”

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #tdatt #datt #the devil all the time #devil all the time #yandere arvin x reader #yandere arvin russell #arvin russel x reader #arvin russell #arvin russel x you #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel imagine #lee bodecker

[chloerie]

(Soo like that SiX fic I mentioned like once? Yeah chapter one is done, this is it)

“Listen up let me tell you a story” SiX reincarnated AU

For a little more context: The kids were reincarnated 4 years before the Queens were and Mary found a place to stay and got a job with Lady Jane Gray(A/N: More commonly known as “9 Days Queen”)was reincarnated with the kids also: I don’t have a update thing 4 this one. Ao3 Wattpad & tumblr

I wrote some of this while ao3 was down lmfao

Yeet let’s go Jane Gray’s POV

I had just walked downstairs to make some coffees for myself and my cousin Mary(Cousins through Henrat’s sister or aunt Idek lmao) and saw… The ex-Queens!?

“HOLY MOTHER OF GOD MARY GET DOWN HERE” I yelled

“J WHAT HAPPENED!?” Mary yell-asked

“Mary? Janie? What’s going on?” Elizabeth asked

“Nothing Liz. Is Mae asleep? Do you need anything?” Mary questioned

“Mae is sleeping I’m fine.” Elizabeth answered

“Okay,” Mary replied glancing at the women in our living room “But if you need anything I’ll be here.” She continued

“Wait where’s Edward,” I said glancing panicky at Mary “Mare do you know?” I asked her

“Eddie is sleeping too,”Elizabeth said hugging Mary “Don’t worry Mar-Mar” She said giving her a-Sleepy-but-adorable smile(Author note: I’ll take any advice/art <3)

“Okay what is going on!?” A Queen asked

“Right. I’m Jane Gray Parr,” I said gesturing to said people(Myself and Catherine Parr) “Paid for my education”

“My name’s Elle!” Eliza said cleverly using the name we taught her to use if she was asked her name by strangers(A/N: BYE A LITERAL LIGHTING STIRCK JUST HAPPENED OUTSIDE MY WINDOW IT ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK AGAIN IT HAPPENED)

“Hm. Your highnesses,” Mary said curtsying to them “I am Mary”

“Janie Betsy Mezza? What’s going on?” Edward asked

“It’s nothing Edward don’t fret over trivial matters-“ I said before remembering I was talking to a 4 year old “Right you’re a toddler. Don’t worry Ed it’s nothing.”

“Eddie! How was your nap?” Elizabeth said

“Excuse me,” A Queen said standing up and grabbing our attention “Who are you children and where are we?” The Queen whom I quickly realized was Queen Jane Seymour

“Well you’ve got me Jane Gray call me J,” I said picking up Edward rocking him and humming a Scottish lullaby to get him to sleep “This is my cousin Edward and his sisters Mary and Elizabeth.” I answered

“We also have another sister not biological though,” Mary said taking Edward from me “Her name’s Mary or Mae we just call her that to differentiate between me and her.” Mary explained, smiling

“Right. I am Queen Catherine of Aragon”(A/N: I don’t think I have to say who said this lmfao)

“Mami.” Mary said softly

“Mami?,” Another Queen asked hugging Aragon “Mary?”

“Hello Cat,” Mary stated smiling softly at Parr and Aragon “I need to put Edward to bed now so I unfortunately cannot stay here J can you help me out here please?” She asked me

“Sure” I answered sighing exasperated with the Queens already

“AH!” A Queen yelled, I was quick to notice, they had a beheading scar, like me. And had no head. Oof.

“Does anyone here know how to put a head back on!?” Another Queen, who looked like Her Royal Highness Princess Anna Von Cleves(A/N: Anna was literally paid to not say she was Queen and she was considered the King’s sister after her divorce, so I figured I’d give her that title lol)

“I can help? I was beheaded too.” I suggested, taking off my choker necklace and gesturing to my beheading scar, Mary looked down guiltily at the sight of it

“Mary, it’s fine you apologized, that’s enough for me.” I sighed exasperated with my cousin.

“I know J, I’m still sorry though..” She muttered, looking down in embarrassment

“Mare you’ve been forgiven, now that’s enough apologies from you young lady.” I scolded

“J, I’m older than you-“ I got as a response

“Oh, shut it Mary.” I muttered, rolling my eyes

A/N: I’m ending this chapter now bc I’m tired, it’s 11:40PM and I need to work on Reincarnated Maria Reynolds anyways this’ll be posted on Wattpad later

#fucking finally #Lmfao sorry for the wait

[moontours]

Are they gonna provide mental health care to malice/Alice??? This girl is suicidal and got brought back from what I can tell against her will. Also uh Betsy talking about how she didn't like her body was hmm an interesting choice considering she's a body snatcher.

i believe the new mutants noticed a lot of the younger ones suffering from depression, self harm, destruction, etc due to lack of structure/time etc so they sent a letter to xavier requesting resources and like overall permission to help them so i think alice will be able to find mental health care there n also yeah they did bring her back against her will ... which idk really made me jrhbjhasbdhja bc like 1. she wanted to die 2. they brought her back without deciding whether they were going to imprison her or not. like imagine if they brought her back against her will just to imprison her

#N YEAH. BETSY NEEDS TO SHUT UP #anon #m.inbox #wednesday spoilers #tw self harm mention #tw suicide mention

[froggywritesstuff]

Blow Us All Away | Philip Hamilton (Chapter 9)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8,  Part 10, Part 11)

‘Letters’

The tension during the carriage ride was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Thomas' words were replaying in Alexander's head and Y/N had no idea how to help.

'You're nothing without Washington behind you,'

"Ignore it." was all Y/N said.

Alexander just scoffed, already knowing what Y/N was talking about, "Easier said than done."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Dude, he's an asshole dickhead who doesn't know any better." she explained, feeling the confused stare from the carriage driver.

Alexander stared at her for a minute, "He's an asshole or a dickhead?"

Y/N threw he hands up in frustration, "Both!"

Alexander laughed quietly, smiling at Y/N.

"Besides," she began, "You won fair and square. He just had to turn to petty insults that don't mean shit."

"You're a good kid, Y/N." Alexander grinned, not even phased that a woman younger than him was using foul language like that.

"Thanks," Y/N smiled.

"You did good in there by the way," Alex complimented.

Y/N stared at him confused, "You don't think I shouldn't have spoken?"

"Not at all, someone had to shut Jeffer-shit up."

"I see why you hate him so much."

"Well... hate's a strong word, Y/N."

Even just thinking that made Alex cringe.

"Not for you, it's not." Y/N laughed.

Alexander smiled at Y/N, "You know... you remind me so much if your father."

"How?"

"He never gave a shit about what anyone thought."

As Alexander began listing off all the memories of Y/N's father, something finally dawned on Y/N.

"The bank took my house didn't they?"

Alexander sighed, which was all Y/N needed to confirm her suspicion.

"When were you gonna tell me?"

Alexander ran a had through his hair, "Eliza and I were going to tell you earlier tonight."

Y/N wiped away a tear she didn't even know was there.

"Y/N, we tried everything we could to save it,"

"So-so what, this whole thing was just a way to deliver the news easier?" Y/N demanded.

"Well, yeah," Alex began earning a scoff from Y/N, "Y/N, we just didn't want you to be upset."

"Well your plan is going wonderfully," she retorted sarcastically.

"We know how hard everything has been for you," Alex paused, trying to read Y/N's expression, "With Philip leaving for college, your dad dying, your house-"

"You can stop listing sad details of my life, Alex, I get the picture!" Y/N interrupted.

Alexander gave an apologetic sigh, "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

This time Y/N sighed, "I know. I understand you were just trying to help me. And today was a good distraction."

"Well, I'm glad watching me kick Jeffer-shit's ass was entertaining."

Y/N smiled, bringing her knee up on the seat and wrapping one arm around it, "Jefferson can eat a dick, if you ask me."

"Uh... ask anyone actually," Alexander laughed, "Well, you should see him and Madison."

"No!" Y/N gasped dramatically, as if she was gossiping with a friend at a sleepover.

Alex nodded, "Honestly, you should see them at work, they're so sickly in love." he half joked.

"Aww," Y/N laughed.

As Y/N and Alexander laughed and spilled the tea, the carriage driver was once again confused, and possibly rethinking his life choices.

—————

When they arrived home, the two jumped out of the carriage, aware of the unlikely friendship the two had formed.

Y/N walked inside the house, confused as to were Eliza was.

"Don't worry," Alex reassured, knowing she was confused, "Betsy's just outside."

Y/N nodded, before running down the hall to the backdoor which led to the garden where Eliza was working.

"Eliza?" she called, which was followed by the sound of Eliza calling out to Y/N, notifying where she was.

Y/N ran over toward her, being greeted by her warm smile.

"How was it today?" she asked.

"It was actually really fun!" Y/N answered.

"I see you're quite surprised." she chuckled.

"Well I thought it was gonna be a bunch of boring politics, and we got there and there were like, no women," Y/N ranted, "Utter bullshit."

"Language." Eliza scolded, only half joking.

"Yeah, and then they started arguing, and I got really mad with Jefferson, but then Alexander won! Like, I was so surprised."

"Oh, don't tell me you're a Jefferson hater too." Eliza mumbled.

"He's a dick!" Y/N quickly covered her mouth as soon as she said it.

"Language!" 

"Sorry," Y/N muttered.

"But Y/N, if you all you and my husband are going to talk about now is Jefferson, I won't make it until Christmas."

Y/N laughed, when Alexander's voice came from inside, asking for Y/N.

"Sorry, Eliza, I gotta go,"

Y/N ran back inside, being greeted by Alexander who was in the dining room, roughly going through some papers in his hands, before handing them to Y/N.

"Would you mind taking up to my study and putting them in my desk drawers?"

"Sure," she said, taking them from his hands, before coughing, "Ah, child labour,"

"Oh, hush," Alex whispered as Y/N ran up the stairs.

She ran down to the end of the hallway where Alex's study was.

She walked up to his desk, carefully opening the drawers.

As she placed the papers inside, the writing on another letter caught her eye.

It looked like nothing, but Y/N was still drawn to it.

'I probably shouldn't look at it,' she thought as she grabbed the letter and looked at it.

'Dear sir, 

I hope this letter finds you in good health, and in a prosperous position to give wealth in the pockets of people, such as me, down on their luck.

You see, that was my wife that you decided to-'

"What?!"

Y/N sprinted out of the room, shut the door and ran down the hallway, where she ran into Alexander.

"Y/N, is everything alright?" he asked, concerned for her.

Y/N glared at him, her grip on the letter tightening, "How could you?!"

"Y/N, what are you talking about, what's wrong?" he asked, extremely confused.

"You tell me," Y/N demanded, shoving the letter in his face.

Alex's face went pale, "Where did you find this?"

"Doesn't matter," Y/N hissed, "What matters is, that you cheated on-"

"Stop! Y/N, please," Alex whisper shouted desperately, before grabbing her arm and moving to his study, "I know this is confusing, but just please don't say anything."

"It's not confusing. No, it's actually pretty clear! You're an asshole!" she whisper shouted. She couldn't even begin to think how she would ever forgive him, but she didn't exactly want everyone to know, eventually leading to the whole family being broken apart.

"I know, but you have to understand, I just wanted to help her!"

Y/N just ignored his words, going full interrogation mode, "When did this happen?"

Alex thought for a moment, running a hand through his hair, "1791, I think."

"And you still haven't told her?!"

"I've tried Y/N!"

As Alex continued to beg and plead, Y/N sighed and sat down in the desk chair, "You better tell her soon, Alexander. Eliza is one of the kindest and most amazing women you've ever met - I don't care who else you've met, she's the most amazing."

"I will tell her, Y/N. I promise."

"Good."

With that, Y/N left.

—————

The next day, she woke up. More accurately, Angelica woke her up.

"Y/N, Y/N, wake up!" she sang, jumping around her bed.

"Why?" Y/N groaned, slamming her head back onto her pillow.

"You got a letter." Angie whispered in her ear.

"From?" she mumbled.

Angelica ran around to the other side of Y/N, whispering in her other ear, "Philip."

Y/N shot out of bed, her sheet falling to the ground. She was ready to sprint down stairs, when she faced Angelica, "Are you serious?"

"Yes," she laughed at Y/N's antics, "Mama's got it downstairs!"

Y/N hugged Angelica, before sprinting off downstairs.

At the bottom of the staircase, she was met with Eliza, holding the letter out with a smirk on her face.

"You got up fast," she remarked with a smile, holding the letter out to Y/N.

"Uhh," she mumbled, her voice resembling a squeak from a mouse.

Eliza laughed, passing the letter to Y/N, "Go on."

Y/N smiled ear to ear, "Thank you!" she cried, before running back upstairs.

Y/N ran into her and Angie's room and jumped on her bed.

"Open it!" Angie cheered.

Y/N grinned, tore open the letter, and began to read, "My dearest, Y/-"

"Would you like some privacy?" Angie cut her off with a grin.

"Angie!" Y/N gasped, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. Angie just raised an eyebrow at Y/N, "Would you?"

Angelica laughed, before skipping out of their shared room.

Y/N took a shaky breath to pale the bright blush on her face, before reading the neatly written letter in her hands.

'My dearest, Y/N,

My tenderness, my happiness, what words can I write for you?

How strange that although my soon to be life’s work is moving a pen over paper, I don’t know how to tell you how I love, how I desire you. Such agitation — and such divine peace: melting clouds immersed in sunshine — mounds of happiness. And I am floating with you, in you, aflame and melting — and a whole life with you is like the movement of clouds, their airy, quiet falls, their lightness and smoothness, and the heavenly variety of outline and tint — my inexplicable love.

I cannot express these cirrus-cumulus sensations.

You are the only angel in my heart of heaven. 

Aaaand, that's my special way of saying that I love miss you more than any words can describe and I'm counting down the days until I can see you again.

I hope you haven't gone insane living with my family - especially Angie -  for the last couple weeks, and I hope you're not missing me too much.

Not much has been happening here at college. I've made a few friends (in an attempt to distract myself from how much I'm missing you).

Now I'm running out of things to write, so once again, I love you, I miss you and I can't wait to see you again!

Love, Philip H.'

taglist: @acupnoodle @vermilionrr

#hamilton #philip hamilton x reader fanfiction #Philip Hamilton #philip hamilton fanfic #philip hamilton x y/n #philip hamilton x you #Philip Hamilton x reader #y/n #hamilton musical #hamilton musical fanfiction #alexander hamilton #angelica hamilton #elizabeth schuyler #Anthony Ramos fanfiction #anthony ramos x reader #philip hamilton fanfiction

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 38: The Firescape

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Del tells Duff that she wants to go to Betsy’s engagement party. Axl slips a truth and Beth doesn’t deny who he says that father’s baby is.

(Masterlist)

Tags: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @dustnbones @queen-crue

“You’re up early,” Izzy noted as he walked into the kitchen that Del had turned into a war zone. There were half chopped apples and peppers that looked like they were barely even touched laid out on the cutting board. Wrappers from butter and eggshells danced across the floor as she scurried about moving from one corner of the kitchen to another.

Izzy was never one to admit he understood women or people in general, but the scene that was unfolding in front of him sent concern through his bones. Something was wrong, and there was no doubt that Duff was the reason for the poor girl’s hectic state.

“I’m always up early,” Del shrugged trying to focus on baking. It was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. Memories of the threat and what if’s had been haunting her late last night and into the early morning. She had been up since before the sun began to rise, and to be honest she could not recall if she ever actually found sleep.

Upon closer thought, Izzy simply nodded his head assuming that this had something to die with Mark and Matt from the night prior. He bit his tongue as he noticed that there was barely any coffee left in the coffee pot. If the little brunette who currently ran around the kitchen bouncing between tasks had drank most of the coffee, he wondered how her heart hadn’t exploded yet from all of the caffeine.

After once again deciding that this was entirely Duff’s fault, he took the remaining coffee from the pot and poured it in the first cup he found.

“I’ll refill the coffee in a few. You’re banned from coffee for the rest of the day,” he pointed at Del when he spoke.

“Who am I Steven?” She shot back, her snappy tone catching Izzy off guard.

“Look around the kitchen Delilah, tell me that this isn’t something Steven would do,” This time it was Del who bit her tongue. She felt like a child in detention. She wanted to protest or tell Izzy to fuck off, but she knew better than to push Izzy at this hour. She cradled her last cup of coffee before taking another sip, returning back to her cooking chaos only moments after the bitter coffee touched her sweet lips.

Izzy huffed down the hall, cup of coffee in hand as he stormed into Duff’s room.

“What the fuck!” Were the only words that escaped Duff’s lips after Izzy had dumped the remaining coffee on his bandmate. Izzy didn’t give a damn if Duff woke up the entire apartment or even the entire building. His idiot bassist needed to deal with whatever the hell Del was going through.

“I don’t know Duff. You tell me. Your girlfriend is an absolute mess in the kitchen, so instead of sleeping away why don’t you go see what is wrong with her,” Izzy barked back.

Duff took in his surrounding for a quick second only to realize that Del was in fact nowhere to be found. Fuck, he thought to himself. Had she run off?

“Did she run off?” Izzy wished he had another cup of coffee to pour on the bassist at his stupid question.

“No, dumbass she is in the kitchen. Like I just said. This is you first girlfriend that I find tolerable, so why don’t you go fix that situation,” Izzy pointed towards the door before he stormed out of it.

“Can you just...shut the fuck up,” Duff rolled his eyes at Slash’s silent protest in the bed on the opposite wall as his.

“Is that coffee I smell?” Slash asked, only moments later.

“Yeah, Izzy fucking woke me up by pouring coffee on me. That bastard..,” Duff huffed again as he pulled himself out of bed.

“Don’t laugh Slash, it’s not funny,” Duff starred his bandmate down who had immediately erupted into a fit of laughter.

“It’s pretty funny dude,” Was all Slash could say between laughing fits, and before Duff slammed the door.

The beautiful smell of Dell’s cooking engulfed Duff’s nostrils when he entered the kitchen. Instead of a sweet Del dancing around while cooking, he was met with a Del who was clearly on the verge of setting the entire kitchen on fire.

Duff froze, lost for words before he could take in the entire scene. Dell’s hair resembled a mad scientist, and her apron was covered in...everything. He didn’t dare try to guess what she had tried to make.

“How can I help?” Del froze in place when Duff spoke.

“Can you tell Izzy to fuck off? Apparently I’m banned from coffee now! I would tell him myself, but I’m afraid laser beams will shoot out of his eyes when he stares me down,” Del admitted, her voice more defeated that she was hoping than she hoped.

Duff, eyeing her now empty cup of coffee, offered her a small chuckle at her silly words before he stepped forward into Del’s storm.

“How about I make some coffee, and then help you chop up those peppers?” Del smiled at Duff before returning to mix her stew or soup. She wasn’t quite sure what she had created.

Just keep wearing your mask around him Del, she told herself as she attempted to force another smile on her face. She knew it wasn’t the time to confront him about Mark and Matt’s threat.

No, she stopped herself in place, immediately lecturing herself on how poorly that would go. She couldn’t tell him about the threat. It would ruin them, of that she was sure. Instead, she decided, she was going to ask him to come to the engagement party.

Duff, making sure to give Del her distance, made some decaf coffee. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Izzy was right. She needed to be cut off from caffeine. Her bags under her eyes looked as if they were poorly painted on with eyeshadow.

“You don’t need to watch me Del, you’re not the only chef here,” Duff tried using a teasing tone, but he still didn’t earn a laugh from Del.

“So I woke to Izzy dumping coffee on my shirt this morning,” Duff raised a brow when he heard Del hiding a giggle.

“It’s not funny,” Duff replied. This time a small smile was on his face, unlike when he had this discussion with Slash only a few minutes earlier.

“It’s pretty funny,” the moment Del snorted, Duff pulled her into a hug causing Del’s giggles to fill the apartment.

“Not as funny as your face right now,” in a flash, Duff had grabbed some of the yogurt and covered her face with it.

Del immediately grabbed some of the yogurt off of her face and splashed it over Duff’s.

“Nah, you’re still more funny looking,” Del teased before Duff pulled her in for a kiss.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He mumbled as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Later.”

“Later?” Duff cocked a brow at her, quickly receiving a nod.

“We have a breakfast we gotta cook and coffee you have to pour on Izzy,” He smiled before she went back to stirring her...whatever she had cooking in her pot.

“So, Chef Delly, where would you like the peppers?” Del pointed towards the large pot that seemed to be cooking over the stove.

Time flew by as the two cooked in silence. Chopping and preparing different foods in harmony while enjoying the silence that had grown between them.

Despite Duff finding his peace again, Del still remained on edge and couldn’t keep Mike and Matt’s threat from the party last night racing through her head.

She would never cheat on Duff. She loved him, that she knew for sure, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. It’s was just a million little things that added up to one big thing from his smile to his stupid jokes to the songs he played for her. He didn’t steal his heart. She 100% willingly gave it to him.

Duff continued to focus on cleaning up the mess that was a resultant from Hurricane Del, but he could feel her eyes hang on him. There was something on her mind, and he knew there was no way his silly jokes or cooking could fix it. They needed to talk, and the worst part was that part of him didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to file Mark and Matt away in a filing cabinet and throw it into the ocean, far far away from Del.

“The fire escape,” Del mumbled, filling Duff with dread as they headed over towards the only place he knew that they could have some privacy.

“Okay, what’s up? What happened last night,” Del shook her head as Duff sat down on the fire escape. His long legs hanging off the end.

“I would like to go to Beth’s wedding party. It’s just a little celebration about her engagement,” The words couldn’t come out of her mouth faster as she spoke.

Duff paused and looked at Del. She was lying, of that he was certain. He knew she didn’t want to go to the damn party. He knew she didn’t want anything to do with her old life.

Maybe if I keep her from it, maybe that would help, he thought to himself.

“No,” Duff replied his focus not leaving the ally that the fire escape faced.

“No?” Del was shocked at his response. He wrote songs and he couldn’t bring himself to using more than one word.

Duff stood up, not saying a word. Del felt smaller than an ant as she stared up at him, “No, I said no. I don’t want you around Mike or Matt.”

���Beth was my friend!” Del shot back, her skin felt like it was boiling.

Was.

Was.

Was.

Del froze as the sentence escaped her lips. She was her friend. Best is not her friend.

“Really? When was the last time you talked to her?” Del remained silent, not wanted to deal withDiff’s words. She wished he went back to the single word answers.

“You call her a friend, but she left you ALONE at the bar Delilah!” Duff shouted back at her.

“So what Micheal! She was scared and maybe I was in the wrong!” Del shouted right back.

“I don’t want you anywhere near Matt or Mike or Beth or whatever the hell their names are! You’re not going there!” He shouted back matching my tone.

Del clutched onto the cold railing that was the only thing keeping her from falling off the firescape. It felt more like sandpaper than any railing she had held before. It gritted under her palms, screaming at her to let go. She wasn’t sure if that was her overactive imagination or the crippling state of this apartment.

Run.

Get away from him before it escalates,

“I thought you would be okay if I was there with you. You could protect me,” she felt childish as all of her nerve had disappeared. Del could feel herself shaking as she continued to use the railing as her support to steady herself. It was the only reason she hadn’t fallen over.

Duff was about to speak when he froze as he looked down at Del, she was cowering. She looked like prey right before the laughter. Her body was leaned up against the cold railing and he could tell that she was visibly shaking.

He reached out a hand hoping to gently stroke her cheek hoping to calm her, but he soon realized how bad the idea was. The moment she flinched, he knew how poor of a choice it was. She had to have known that he would never hurt her.

As if Del was a dying fire, and Duff’s touch was gasoline, she felt her flame return, courage flowing through her veins. She shoved his hand aside and pushed him out of her way. She felt on fire as she stormed through the apartment, ignoring Duff’s pleading in hopes that she would slow down and listen to his logic. She didn’t listen.

Del could feel that every soul in the apartment was watching the scene unfold.

“Shut the fuck up Duff and leave me alone,” Del shouted at the top of her lungs. Her throat was hot and it felt like it was on fire.

“Del, where are you going?” Duff shouted, only furthering the fire she had become.

“Home,” Del shouted, only realizing how pathetic she sounded before slamming the door behind her.

When the door closed behind her, the tears quickly streamed down her face. She felt guilt as she stormed down the stairs. Guilt for acting like a fool. Guilt for yelling at Duff.

Home? She almost scoffed at the idea as the tears came streaming down her face. She had no home.

“Don’t,” Mag’s voice was sharp as Duff went to run after Delilah.

“What do you mean don’t?” Duff shouted.

“You are only going to make it worse.” She countered.

“Did you tell her that it’s your baby or is this only about the engagement party at her old church ?” Axl’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?” Duff turned towards Mags who froze in time. Her face went flush, looking more like a ghost than a living being.

“Mags, what is he talking about?” Duff shouted.

Mags could feel the tears streaming on her cheeks as she ran out to the apartment.

Steven didn’t hesitate as his punch collided with Duff’s face.

While his face burned like hell from Steven’s punch, he couldn’t focus on it. His brain was too occupied with the fact that Mags didn’t deny that he was the father.

He was going to be a father.

And Delly, Delly was gone

#gnr fanfiction #guns n’ roses fanfic #gnr fanfic #gnr imagine #guns n’ roses fanfiction #guns n’ roses imagine #duff mckagan fanfiction #duff mckagan / oc #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan fanfic

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 4

Word count: 2450

I wake up for the third time, sighing in frustration at the fact that I’ve been awoken from my slumber. Clayton woke me up twice during the night by kicking me- I don’t know why this man can’t let me have my space considering it’s a California-king sized bed, but for whatever reason he needs to be pressed up against me at all times.

I close my eyelids, planning on going back to sleep for a couple more hours before deciding to start my day. But something brushes against my nose. And then there’s a poke. I open my eyelids, and as much as I know that the adoring smile that’s on Clayton’s face should warm my heart, I narrow my eyes into a glare.

How dare he wake me up.

“Oh good, you’re up,” his husky, morning voice says. Butterflies fill my stomach but I make my eyes narrow even more at his words, still upset that he woke me up. He rolls his eyes like he knows why I’m upset and rests his head back down on the pillow, not taking his eyes off of me. “You’ll get over it.”

“What time is it?” I ask through a yawn.

“Nine o'clock.”

I groan. “My body still thinks it’s five o’clock. But maybe that’s because you woke me up several times last night.” I reach my foot over to kick his thigh and he grabs it, just holding onto my ankle.

“I did? Sorry about that.”

I don’t respond, resting my head back on the pillow and closing my eyes. I just want a few minutes of peace before I have to get up and start my day. Clayton begins to laugh so I open an eye, looking over at him.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You stayed over last night.” He reaches over, lacing his fingers through mine. “And I didn’t have to convince you too.”

“More like force,” I mumble. He makes a smart remark to that but I’m too busy thinking about his words.

Shit, I did stay over last night without a second thought. In fact, I cuddled him to sleep. Is that part of this arrangement? I thought this arrangement was mainly about sex but there seems to be more of an emotional connection than sex.

I feel like I’m in a relationship again and I’m not ready for that at this point in my life. That’s the whole reason why I rejected Clayton, I feel like I’m not ready emotionally to support someone else. Even just thinking about it almost gives me a panic attack.

“So does this mean that I don’t have to hold the contract over your head anymore?”

I snap out of my thoughts, looking over at Clayton. “What?”

“Now you can just hang out with me because you want to, not because I’m forcing you to. You proved it last night,” he points out.

“I stayed with you because I knew you would say something if I tried to leave,” I half-lie, reverting my gaze to the ceiling.

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

“Is it? Because I tried to leave that one night and you told me that I had to stay, so why would this time be so different?” I snap, turning back to glare at him. I don’t like the direction this conversation is headed in.

“Not a morning person, I see,” he murmurs.

I scoff, throwing my feet over the side of the bed to stand up.

“Where are you going?” He inquires.

“Home.” I grab my phone from his bedside table and head out of his bedroom and to the entrance. I’m pulling my shoes onto my feet when he makes an appearance, leaning against the wall like I’m boring him.

“Come on, you’re really going to leave because of a little teasing?” He raises his eyebrows.

“I just want to go home, Clayton.” I check to make sure my Uber’s arrived before yanking open his front door.

“Dang, I didn’t know you were this dramatic when I first started seeing you.”

I freeze at the words, anger flowing through my veins, before deciding to keep my mouth shut for once. I do slam the door for effect on my way out, fuming on the ride home.

I don’t have all day to think about how annoying Clayton is because I eventually have classes to go to, and honestly, it’s the perfect distraction. The girl next to me was confused about the lesson so I explain it to her in simpler terms than the professor used as we make our way to the parking lot where Betsy’s car that I borrowed is waiting.

I glance towards the direction of where I parked the car, freezing when I see a familiar person leaning against the vehicle.

“Y/N? You okay?” The girl asks.

“Yeah,” I respond distantly. Clayton noticed that I’ve seen him and stands up straight, his famous smirk spread across his face. “Um, does that make more sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” she nods. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime. See you next week,” I bid, hesitantly making my way to my friend’s car. “What are you doing here?”

“Felt bad after this morning so I decided to surprise you,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal but I can tell from his tone that he’s watching me closely for a reaction.

“How did you even know where I go to school?”

“I saw your shirt once and it had the school mascot on it. And I drive past here on my way to the rink every day so I’ve seen you a couple of times,” he admits.

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest and make eye contact with him. I don’t know why I’m giving him such a hard time, it’s not like our argument was that big of a deal. He was just pointing out that I stayed the night without a protest, but I guess I don’t like that I even did that so I’m punishing him for it. I know it’s not his fault and I know it’s petty of me to be acting like this, but I want to keep the upper hand in this relationship or whatever it is.

I feel like most of our rules favor him, so if I can win minor battles like this then I feel like we’re more equals.

“So I got you an apology present.” He pulls his hands out from behind his back and presents a small, square box to me.

I give him a questioning look but he nods towards the gift, so I take it into my own hands, brushing my fingers against his, and open the top of it. A bracelet with a thin gold chain with crystals around the chain lays in the box. It’s stunning. I’m not usually the type of person to wear bracelets, but I know once I put this bracelet on I won’t be able to take it off.

“Clayton it’s gorgeous,” I murmur, unable to take my eyes off of the bracelet. I know he has a smug look on his face from my reaction but I ignore it, setting the box on the hood to pick up the bracelet.

“Let me help,” he orders, taking the bracelet from my hands gently. I hold my wrist out to him and he wraps the bracelet around my wrist, the cold metal touching my skin. He clasps it but holds my wrist in his hands for a couple more moments.

I let him.

His hands drop and he takes a step back but his eyes tell me that he doesn’t want to.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. It’s his tell that he’s about to ask me something important but wants to disguise it as unimportant, so I pay attention closely.

“I might go to the club with some friends but we haven’t planned anything concrete yet. Why?” Betsy said that she wanted to have a one night stand this weekend but I don’t know if she wanted Tyler and I to be her wingmans or if it was something that she was just going to do off of Tinder.

“We have a game tomorrow night and you should come.” I give him a look of uncertainty and he laughs. “Would it make you feel better if I used the deal against you?” I nod and he laughs again. “Rule three.”

“I forgot what rule three is,” I admit.

“You have to do romantic things with me. And going to my game is romantic,” he responds, leaning against the car.

I resist the urge to yell at him that he’s going to scratch Betsy’s paint, a fear of mine since she’s letting me borrow her property for free. “You think that me watching people beat you up and you beating other people up is romantic?”

“In an odd way, yes.”

“What time is it?” I tilt my head.

He raises his arm to look at his watch. “It’s two o’clock right now-””No, dumbass, what time is your game?” I giggle.

“Oh,” he blushes in embarrassment. “It’s at seven o’clock against the Winnipeg Jets.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Am I supposed to have any clue who that is?”

He cracks a smile. “Just know that you’re supposed to be cheering for the guys in red. I’ll leave you a ticket and an arena pass at the ticket window, just make sure you have your ID on you.”

I nod, watching as he walks towards his jeep. “Oh, and Clayton?” He turns around to face me, walking backwards. “Don’t lean against the car again.”

A cheeky grin covers his face as he turns back around and I try my best to ignore my blush as I get into Betsy’s Honda.

~

The usher leads me down to my seat and I’m surprised to see that there are already a few women and children in the seats next to mine. I smile politely at them as I sit down but make no effort to talk to them, instead pulling out my phone.

They talk in hushed voices to each other, trying their best to keep their words quiet but I can still hear some of what they’re saying.

“... Clayton can get a girl so pretty. No, really, aren’t you surprised, Ashley?”

“Say something to her!”

“But Clayton told us not to talk to her otherwise we’ll scare her off.”

Oh, so they know Clayton. How do they know Clayton? They’re gorgeous girls, don’t get me wrong, but they can’t be his hookups. He wouldn’t be as disrespectful to sit me next to his hookups, right? And they wouldn’t be friends if he was with all of them.

“Since when does Clayton control us, Rachel?”

“Fine, then you say something to her.”

“Hi.” At the word my head snaps up and I turn to see the brunette in the group is the one who’s talking to me. The two blondes are watching our conversation. “You’re with Clayton, right?”

“Something like that.”

She nods like she understands. “I’m Abby, Nick Schmaltz’s girlfriend, he plays on the team with Clayton. This is Rachel, Taylor Hall’s girlfriend and Ashley, Jordan Oesterle’s fiance.”

They look at each other excitedly, which I assume means they’re freshly engaged.

“So tell us more about yourself,” Rachel encourages, “Do you go to school?”

“Um, yeah, I go to a college not far from here.”

“Cool, what are you studying?”

I’m trying to be polite but this just feels weird to me. With the situation that Clayton and I are in, I’m not sure why he would invite me to his game and knowingly seat me next to some of the WAGs. It seems like something too intimate, something that a girlfriend would do and not a sugar baby.

I understand if he wants me to go to his games but to introduce me to people like I’m staying around for a while strikes me as odd.

We chat for a while before the game starts, then the conversation kind of dies down as we all focus on the game. I know hockey a little bit but I don’t know all of the rules so the girls explain some things for me when I rarely ask questions. I don’t want them to think that I’m dumb, even though I don’t know why I care what they think of me, so I keep most of my questions to myself and remain clueless.

I guess the Coyotes lose because the stadium is quiet as the game comes to an end.

“Are you coming to the locker room with us?” Abby asks as they stand up and collect their things.

“Oh, um, I’m not sure if Clayton would like that,” I confess.

“Well you have an arena pass so I’m assuming that he wants you to,” Rachel answers, motioning to the lanyard that I forgot was around my neck.

I follow them down to the locker room as they chat about the game, only answering questions when they direct them to me.

I wait awkwardly as all of these big men leave the locker room, approaching their WAG and greeting them before leaving with a friendly smile.

Abby, Rachel, and Ashley introduce me to their partners who exchange some kind words with me before leaving. All three girls make sure to get my phone number, promising me pedicures and a coffee.

I’m overwhelmed by the time Clayton exits the locker room and approaches me with a teammate in tow.

“So I heard that you lost,” I blurt out, unsure of what to say.

He smiles and the friend behind him laughs loudly and I quickly apologize at my words.

“So how did you like the game?” Clayton inquires.

“It was good,” I nod.

“Oh, um, Y/N this is my roommate and teammate, Christian. Christian, this is the girl that I was telling you about, Y/N,” the brunette introduces us and I reach out to shake his roommate’s hand.

What does ‘this is the girl that I was telling you about’ supposed to mean? What has he told him about me? Has he told him about our deal? Damn, I should’ve included a non-disclosure rule in the contract.

“Come back to our house with me,” Clayton demands. I roll my eyes but nod, knowing there’s not much place for argument.

And somehow I end up in his bed again.

“If I fall asleep here, wake me up,” I order, already feeling my eyes droop.

He doesn’t take me seriously because once again, I wake up in his bed.

#NHL imagines #Clayton keller imagine #Clayton keller fanfiction #coyotes imagine #clayton keller

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Home - Part 4

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" I asked him shaking my head.

"What do you mean what am i doing here?.... I'm here to see my wife of course" he replied smugly with a shrug of his shoulder.

"Thats funny! Last time i checked you no longer have a wife!"

"You'll always be mine Y/N"

"Thats where your wrong Jack, i haven't been yours for a very long time" i said through gritted teeth "why can't you just leave me alone??! You didn't want me when we were married but now we're divorced you decide you want me back?...Is that it?"

"I always wanted you baby...."

"Really??.... that why you were sleeping with my best friend?"

"I made a mistake...."

"So did i....the day i married you!"

He stepped closer trying to intimidate me, i'd hit a nerve with that comment.

"You dont mean that....."

"Dont i?? why else would i divorce you and move far away from you.... i left everything to get away from you Jack"

"We can sort this out, it can be good again"

"Not interested, now please leave"

"Im not leaving until you agree to try again....."

"Your such a fucking child! How did you even find me anyway? You didn't know about this place and i didn't tell anyone where i was going"

"I'll aways find you Y/N your mine"

"For the love of god....." i rolled my eyes and went to take a step back from him. His hand reached out grabbing my arm and pulling me close before i got far, i started to struggle and try to push him away but he wasn't moving, i felt myself start to panic.... i had done so well not showing Jack how scared i was that he was here but seeing that look in his eyes and the way he grabbed me.... my facade was falling fast.

"Hey!" a voice yelled from behind and i looked around Jack to see Bucky and Steve climbing out of a black van and marching towards us, death glares on their faces.

"Get your damn hands off her!" Bucky growled grabbing the back of Jacks coat and pulling him away with such force Jack fell on the floor. Bucky and Steve stood protectively in front of me glaring down at the man.

"Who the fuck are you?" Steve asked Jack who was already getting to his feet and straightening out his jacket.

"Im her husband asshole!"

"Ex husband!" I corrected him "and I've told him to leave!"

"You heard the lady, your not welcome here" Steve said as Bucky turned to me and looked me over for any signs Jack had hurt me. He placed a hand against my cheek and smiled a tight lipped smile "you okay doll?"

"Im fine Buck" i nodded "little shaken.... thank you for coming" i added quietly so only he would hear and rested my forehead against his chest as i tried to calm down now Bucky and Steve were here.

"The girls...."

"Their fine, i made sure they stayed away and didn't hear anything"

"Oh i see how it is, this your new guy? Think his better than me?? Im not good enough for you now huh??" Jack started ranting looking at me and Bucky.

"My guess is you were never good enough for her, you were lucky she even gave you the time of day pal" Steve smirked.

"Oh you fucking him too?? Wow Y/N you really have changed....." he was cut off when Bucky's hand flew out and grabbed him around the throat.

"Why dont you shut your fucking mouth! Im gonna tell you this once so you better fucking listen or so help me god i will bury you!!..... stay the fuck away from my family!!" Bucky growled lowly so the girls wouldn't hear, he had angled his body so they wouldn't be able to see what he was doing "i find out you've been back here or anywhere near Y/N.... you'll regret it" Bucky shoved Jack away from him and came to stand beside me.

"I just want whats mine!! She's my wife!!" Jack said loudly still not giving up.

"Not anymore she's not" Bucky said with a smirk as he put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer "Steve get this punk outta here would ya?"

"Would be my pleasure Buck" Steve grinned grabbing Jack and dragging him back to where his car was parked.

"You okay doll?.... I'm sorry bout that i just thought maybe he would leave you alone if he thought you'd moved on"

I nodded quickly holding a hand over my mouth trying to hold in the sob trying to escape.

"His gone" Steve said walking back over to us shaking his head "what a asshole"

"You guys go eat with the girls, i just need a minute" i told them before rushing inside, i didn't want to cry in front of everyone.

Once inside and out of view of everyone my tears finally escaped, i made my way to the bathroom and sat on the closed lid of the toilet as i cried.

"Y/N?..." Bucky's voice was quiet from the other side of the door "are you okay doll?"

I quickly wiped my my tears away and took some deep breaths before opening the door "I'm okay...."

"Liar" he scoffed with a small smile making me laugh.

"What? Did my red puffy eyes give me away?"

"I dont know what you mean"

"Funny"

"Come here" he said pulling me into his arms, i didn't put up a fight i just let myself fall into Bucky's arms.

"You should be with the girls...."

"Their fine, their with Steve. You wanna talk about it?"

"Not much to say, i dont know how he found me Bucky! he had no idea about this house...." i said shaking my head "im gonna have to leave now...."

"What??" He pulled back to look at me in shock "what do you mean your going to leave?"

"He knows where i am!! he'll come back for me Bucky"

"You could get a restraining order..."

"I tried before and no one would help me. Thats why i left!"

"Well you didn't have an awesome lawyer on your side before"

"I cant ask you to help me with this..."

"You didn't, i offered"

It was quiet between us for what seemed like ages but was probably only seconds.

"Y/N, can i ask you something?"

"Yeah"

"Your relationship with Jack, did it get violent?"

I tensed up instantly and i knew Bucky felt it, all i could do was nod, i heard Bucky take a deep breath as his arms tightened around me.

"I wont let him hurt you again i promise".

"Thank you Bucky" i smiled up at him before heading to the fridge to grab a bottle of water "I'm so glad you and Steve were there. What are you guys doing here anyway? i thought you'd still be working"

"I finished earlier than i thought and then called Steve to come help me with your sofa. A friend of ours had a van so we borrowed that so we can take your old one for you"

"You didn't have to do that..... but your amazing for doing it" i reached up and kissed him on the cheek "thank you".

"Of course" he nodded nervously scratching the back of his neck as a blush spread across his face.

"We should probably go make sure Steve's okay with the girls"

"Yeah your probably right, lets go enjoy that picnic.... from what i saw it looked good!"

"Steve's probably eaten everything by now" i laughed knowing how much the man ate.

"I'll kick that punks ass if he hasn't saved us something".

"Everything okay?" Steve asked looking up as we approached him and the girls.

"As long as you havent eaten everything its good" i laughed sitting down.

"We're good then" Steve smiled nudging my shoulder playfully.

"We'll get your sofa sorted once we've eaten" Bucky said picking up a sandwich as Rosie climbed into his lap.

"There's no rush, lets just enjoy the rest of the afternoon".

The new sofa was finally in and the room already seemed more cosier.

"It looks good sweetheart" Steve smiled looking from the sofa to me "its very you"

"Thanks Steve"

"I think its safe to say the girls approve" Bucky chuckled looking at the three sleeping girls spread out over the sofa.

"Yep looks like it" i smiled at the sight.

"Right, let us take this sofa, i'll get the car and then come back for them"

"Okay" i nodded "thats fine"

"I'll be 20 minutes tops" Bucky promised before leaving with Steve.

20 minutes later as a promised Bucky was back with his car minus Steve who apparently had 'stuff' to take care of whatever that meant.

"Y/N why dont you come and stay with us tonight?" Bucky asked turning to me "it'd make me feel better if you would, at least until i know Jack's not hanging around"

"Are you sure you dont mind? I dont wanna impose...."

"I wouldn't ask if i minded doll" he grinned "go grab your stuff, pack for a couple of days at least".

"Okay" i nodded "thank you Bucky" i said with a smile before going upstairs to pack a bag.

A/N - wow two updates in one day!! 😂 i was thinking maybe the next part i’ll do from Bucky’s POV? What do you think?

A/N 2 - Face claim for Jack is Jai Courtney in my head.

A/N 3 - I just wanted to thank each and everyone of you that has liked, shared and commented on this fic, it really does mean a lot to me. ILY 💕

Home taglist: @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

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#bucky x reader #sebastianstan #bucky imagine #home #sebastian stan #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #steve rogers #bucky barnes

[holylulusworld]

Screw the car

Summary: Dean makes a mistake and fears you will get mad.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: angst, blood, injured Dean, comforting, fluff, language

I should’ve been a normal hunt – and it was to a certain point. Dean got back into your car, ready to drive toward his next destination.

Smirking he changed the tape in your Mustang, even hung a car air freshener with salami scent at your rearview mirror to prank you for taking Baby.

Sam and you were away to help Bobby with and emergency and took Dean’s beloved Impala to make sure you have all the needed weapons.

On his way back to the latest victim’s house Dean barely saw the man standing on the road. The moment he tried to hit the breaks he saw the claws and fangs. Instead of stopping the car, he accelerated to hit the werewolf.

Hit and run was Dean’s goal and it worked out. The wolf got hit and ended with a broken spine, but the problem was Dean lost control of your car and hit a tree. Windshield broken; hood dented your beloved car looks like a wreck to Dean.

After killing the wolf and burying the monster in the woods Dean stands in front of your car, not knowing how to tell you he totaled your Mustang.

With shaking fingers, he dials your number. “Dean?”

“Baby…uh…shit…” Cursing Dean bites his lower lip, while he has a look under the hood only to find the engine got damaged too. “I need help.”

“Dean, are you hurt? Where are you, Baby? Sammy and I are on our way back. Tell me about your position and hide if you have to.” Panicked you try to control your breathing.

While Dean tells you his position you sniffle. “We are right there, Baby. Twenty minutes…”

Sam made it in fifteen minutes, and you jump out of the car to run toward Dean to check on your boyfriend. He has scratches on his face, blood is running down his forehead and you look him all over.

“Baby, you are bleeding. Is anything broken? Can you breathe? Are you hurting, Dean? Let me check your pulse and stop the bleeding.”

Rummaging in your bag you get a first aid kit out to press a bandaid to his forehead. “Sit on the Impala, Baby. Let me fix your wounds.”

“Y/N,” Dean chokes out. “I damaged your car to kill the werewolf.” Not listening to Dean you help him sit on Baby’s hood to clean the cut at his forehead. “Did you listening?”

“Yeah, something about the werewolf and my car. Now let me check your wounds, Dean.” While Dean tries to tell you he totaled your car, Sam has a look at your beloved car. Gasping he can see the car is a wreck thanks to the collision.

“Sweetheart,” taking you hand in his Dean wants you to pay attention to his words but you are still shaking as you thought he got hurt. “Listen to me.”

“Dean, let me fix this first.” Gently cleaning the wound, you stand between Dean’s spread thighs, taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart.

“As good as new, Winchester.” Pecking Dean’s lips, you finally calm down. “Now let me check for other wounds.”

“Y/N, you need to listen to me.” Voice gruff Dean looks up at you, guilt written all over his face. “I totaled your car, Baby. I wanted to hit and run the wolf, but I lost control and…” Pointing toward your car Dean sighs.

“You killed the monster with my car…awesome…” Chuckling you wrap your arms around Dean’s neck, happy he didn’t get hurt by the werewolf.

“Baby Girl, the Mustang is a wreck…” Dean whimpers and you hold him tighter.

“Dean, it’s just a car, okay. I like it, but I love you. There’s nothing more important to me than that you are not hurt, and I can hug you, Baby. I bet Bobby and you can fix Betsy, if not I’ll ask him to get me a new classic car.”

“Y/N…you love the car. It’s…” Dean looks up at you as you cup his face, pecking his lips softly.

“Dean, the car is replaceable, but you are irreplaceable. Now let me check on my man. Sammy can call Bobby for help.”

“Did I tell you that you are awesome lately?” Dean watches you bulging the hood, smirking as you shake your ass to the song you are listening to.

“Well, I’m a catch for sure, Winchester.” Giving your boyfriend a wink, you point toward the toolbox. “Can you hand me the hammer? I’ll need more power…”

“More power on its way. Let me to this, Sweetheart…”

“Go ahead, Baby. I’ll get a sandwich and a beer for my working man.” Fisting Dean’s shirt you claim his lips. “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt.”

“But your car…”

“Dean, screw the car…”

SPN Forever Tags

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Dean/Jensen Forever Tags     

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#spn #spn fanfiction #spn drabble #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester drabble #angst

[the-cool-tech-kid]

*finger guns* Kara going to Reis for her modification but she Cannot answer any of his questions. She has money and book smarts but absolutely 0 brain cell. I’m here for zany hijinks and zany hijinks only

((OHOHO YESS)) ((reminder that kara might be horribly ooc tho-)) “Hm... alright, I suppose we’re done here! Try blinking your eyes, see if anything’s wrong.” Reis grinned at Kara, rather proud of the job he did... if it is in fact, a job well done. The eyes are a rather sensitive area, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure if he could accomplish what she wanted him to do. Besides, she’s already got quite the amount of cyberoptics as well -and they’re all good quality (not to mention, really expensive)- why would she want more? Well, only one way to find out, I suppose. Kara blinked once, then twice, and she nodded, confirming everything’s fine and dandy. “I’ve got to thank Moray for recommending you to me-- you did one hell of a great job with these.” “Glad ya think so. Whatcha need these for anyways? Aren’t you like some sort of... uh, game developer or somethin’?” he inquired, violet eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’tcha worry if you’ve got something to hide-- I can keep secrets.” “I-- uh, yeah, I make games! I guess you can call me an indie game developer of sorts.” Kara answered. “And n-no, I don’t have anything to hide, I really am just a a regular human being with no constant source of income!” He slowly nods, pushing back his goggles up to his head. If that isn’t an obvious lie, then why the hell haven’t anyone taken down the corpos at this point? But he can’t really just point that out to her, can he? Can he? Time to push his luck, see what he can dig outta her. Worst case scenario, he’ll just get punched in the face, or get another Solo after his ass like he hasn’t spent too much time improving the security system. No big deal. ”Huh, you sure ‘bout that? You do know that those things I just did for ya-- they’re real expensive. Why would you get ‘em if you’re like, some normal dude with no constant source of income?” ”...” Kara looks terribly, terribly uncomfortable. And maybe slightly annoyed, judging by her curled up fist. Mental reminder to finish this appointment real quick before she decides to run away. ”Uh, fuck, I shouldn’t have asked ya that. Sorry ‘bout that. So, will ya come on let’s say...” His eyebrows furrow, trying his best to remember when he’s free. ”You’re free on next Tuesday, Reis.” chimed in Betelgeuse, his sleek silver body laying on the nearby couch. “Though only from 3 PM.”  ”Thanks, bitch boy. Wouldn’t be able to function without ‘cha. So yeah, can you come back on next Tuesday? Gotta make sure nothing’s fucked up, and if anything happens before that, come over immediately, no excuses. Got that?” His client nodded, clearly very relieved that he changed the subject. Really, what’s up with her? But eh, he’s done poking around. For now. He quietly watches her leave the workshop, wracking his brain to try and find ideas for a new addition to his beloved security system. “... So, whaddaya reckon is her actual job, Betsy?”

“Hopefully, nothing like yours. I don’t think I can stand trying to remind you that once again, you cannot just leave your blowtorch next to a-” “Please shut the fuck up, Geese.” And there goes another night of constant bickering.

#trick or treat #i hate this ngl #also took me too long hhh

[impala-dreamer]

My Burning Sun

SPN FanFic

~Sam and Dean go to check out a case of mysterious animal attacks, and Dean finds a blast from the past that is a little too hard for him to handle.~

Dean x Reader (past), Sam, OMC

3,702 Words

Warnings: ANGST. Mentions of smut, kissing. ANGST! Show level blood and angst.

A/N: This is another piece for my Fic Imitating Art Challenge. The title and beautiful graphic was made by @mere-mortifer, fic by me! Hope you enjoy...

~ Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~

Dean felt good. Not in a normal, 'Everything is fine in the world and my father didn't just die for me and leave me with an ominous threat to save or kill my baby brother' way, but good nonetheless. The sky was a perfect dark blue, the clouds were crisp and white, the air was fresh, blowing through the open windows as the Impala pushed 60 on the freeway. He felt good.

"OK," Sam said, shifting in the passenger seat, photocopies of newspaper articles scattered over his giant lap. "Lucas Heller, 46, CEO of Stanscorp, the town's biggest job supplier, found dead last Thursday.. Lungs shredded."

Dean shook his head solemnly. "Poor bastard."

Sam went on. "Millionaire lottery winner Micah Bloom, dead of an apparent heart attack, also showed signs of an animal attack."

"What happened to the money?" Dean chuckled to himself, right hand gripping one o'clock on the wheel.

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "And this last one, Robbie Hastings, mauled to death in his second floor bedroom. Coroner says it looks like a bear attack. Stomach and internals were shredded while he was still alive."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

Dean switched hands and grimaced at the thought. "Imagine being clawed to death? Shit." He chanced a look at the black and white paper still dangling from Sam's hand. A happy couple, presumably Robbie and his wife, smiled back at him, and Dean's eyes narrowed. She looked awful familiar…

"You OK, Dean?"

His name snapped Dean out of his head, slamming the filing cabinet of memory inside. "Yeah," he said, clearing his throat and sitting up behind the wheel. "Hungry. You hungry? I need food."

Sam shrugged noncommittally. “There’s half a bag of Combos in the back.” He turned to reach for them, but Dean huffed loudly.

“Food, Sam. I need food.”

“So, you don’t want the Combos?”

Dean groaned and sighed. “Yeah, gimmie the damn Combos.”

Dean was feeling a little less good when they left the morgue. He swallowed down a mouthful of the truck-stop breakfast burrito that was threatening to make its way back up and out, and nearly missed the tiny step after the door as he followed Sam outside.

“You alright?”

“Who puts a stair there!”

Sam shrugged him off and headed to the car, manilla file in hand. “That was harsh.”

“Yeah. Gross.” Dean gagged again, remembering the mutilated body they’d just examined. He paused for a moment and set his hands on the roof of the Impala, late summer sun burning his wrists slightly. “Sam, what kind of bear eviscerates his prey and doesn’t...eat any of it? Dude was torn apart, but everything was there…not, ya know, where it was supposed to be, but…”

Sam shook his head. “Not any bear I know of. Bears don’t normally pick locks, sneak into a dark house, climb a flight of stairs, pull a man out of his bed to do that either.”

“So...not a bear. Gotcha.”

“Check out the crime scene?”

Dean nodded and pulled open his door with a creak of the old hinges. “I guess we could swing by…”

The house was cute. A little white fence surrounded a perfectly manicured lawn, pink rose bushes lined the front of the house, reaching up towards green shutters and big airy windows.

Dean didn’t notice the hand paved walkway or the initials carved into the top porch step. He didn’t see the wooden gnome statue hiding between the bushes or the perfectly faded patina on the antique brass door knob. Didn’t hear the charming bells that sounded through the house as Sam rang the bell. He was too focused on the familiar face he’d seen in the paper, his brain combing through every woman he’d ever known, denying the odds that it could be her. There was no way… was there?

The door opened slowly and a sad but kind smile greeted them.

Dean’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”

Beside him, Sam startled and quickly reached for his badge. “Mrs. Hastings? I’m Special Agent Wilson, this is my partner Special Agent Jardine…”

The smile spread as Y/N ignored Sam completely. “Hey, Dean.”

Sam dropped the badge, letting it hang midair as he assessed the situation. His brother was staring at the woman, eyes clouded by something similar to sadness but not quite. Sam couldn’t place it as he’d never seen such a look on Dean’s face before; on anyone else he’d say melancholy, but with Dean, who knew. He cleared his throat, but neither paid him any mind, caught in a moment.

Dean let out a breath that was almost a laugh, pure shock running through him. “I saw the picture in the paper,” he said softly, “but I didn’t think it was really you.”

“What’s going on?” Sam asked to no one since no one was listening.

Y/N laughed and gave a little shrug, her eyes never leaving Dean’s for a second. “It’s really me.” Her smile was big but masking something painful. “You look...really good, Dean.”

Freckles drowned in a sea of pink as Dean blushed. “You look…amazing,” he said quickly, stumbling over his own tongue. “Like… wow. I…”

Sam cleared his throat loudly. “So you two know each other,” he announced, hoping to break the fog of whatever was happening and get back to work.

“You changed your name,” Dean half asked her, still forgetting Sam was next to him.

Y/N nodded. “That happens when you get married.”

His smile fell a bit, but he picked himself up quickly. “Yeah. Right.” He licked his lips, lost in her eyes.

Sam gave up, rolling his eyes. “Should I go?”

Dean jumped. “Oh, sorry. Y/N, Sam, Sam, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Sam reached for her hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

The mention of her dead husband seemed to jar Y/N back into reality. She squeezed Sam’s hand gently. “Thank you. Do you need to come in, or?”

“If you don’t mind,” Sam said with a professional aire. “We should check out the house, yes.”

Y/N stepped aside to let him in, holding the door open for them both. “I mean, I know you’re not really Feds, but once upon a time I trusted your brother so…”

Sam shot Dean a quick look but his brother was back to staring.

“So you know why we’re here?” Sam asked as Dean dreamed.

Y/N shut the door slowly and turned around. “I assume something strange is afoot, if it brings Dean Winchester to my door.”

Dean walked around as they chatted, spinning a small circle in the living room, peeking into the dining area, straining to see the kitchen. The house was tidy and small, but stuffed with personal items, strange art, and plants here and there.

“This place is so you,” he announced with a laugh, looking at a ratty but interestingly colored afghan slung over the couch.

Y/N looked over her shoulder at him. “Excuse me?”

Dean shook his head and sighed as he picked up a smooth white rock from the coffee table. “Nothing…”

“We only had one slice of apple left,” Y/N said, shaking her hips as she walked back to Dean’s booth.

He looked up from his coffee mug with a frown. “Ah, damn.”

“So I fought Betsy for it,” she concluded, biting her lip as she smiled down at Dean and handed him the plate.

“Oh, you’re the best,” he told her, looking from the picture perfect slice of apple pie up to her beautiful face.

“Whipped cream?” she asked, pulling a can from her apron.

Dean nodded quickly and sat back as Y/N swirled a giant tower of cream on top of his pie.

“A little extra because you’re cute,” she whispered with a wink.

Dean’s mouth flooded and his pants grew tight as Y/N dipped her index finger into the whipped cream and pulled out a dollop to suck between her plump lips.

The pie was good but the view was better. In fact, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She seemed to float around the tiny diner, plastic smile screwed on tight for every customer, a softer, sexier appearing when she glanced his way. He was only in town for a few days, just in between cases on his was to meet John, but if he could, he’d spend every meal sitting in that booth staring at his beautiful waitress.

“Did you enjoy your meal, sir?” she asked, plugging his ticket into the cash register.

Dean laughed. “Very much, Miss, thank you.”

She looked away and gathered his change, giving Dean a chance to gather his courage.

“So…”

Y/N popped back up and his voice got stuck. “Have a great day,” she smiled, handing over two quarters and a receipt.

Their hands touched as he took the change and Dean nearly grabbed her, pulling her over the counter to taste her perfect lips. But he kept it all inside, figuring he had just imagined all the flirting. What would a girl like her want with a scruffy vagabond like him anyway?

She let her hand slip away and whispered gently before leaving him stunned. “I get off at nine.”

Her number was written on the back of his recept, a quick ‘Call Me’ scrawled on the top.

Dean bounced all the way back to his car, a new spring in his step and a gleam in his eye that wasn’t there before.

Sam journeyed up the tight staircase, careful not to knock any picture frames off the walls with his broad frame as he walked up nearly sideways. The old stairs were not made for giant feet.

The master bedroom was easy to find; second door on the right, crossed with bright yellow police tape that he pulled down to step through.

Y/N stood in the doorway behind him, her toes on the border between hall and bedroom, never moving to cross.

Sam stepped carefully. The room was a mess, dried blood still in pools on most of the floor, soaked deep into the expensive beige rug, painting the walls in splatters, leaving a trail from the bed to the middle of the room where the body had been dragged.

“Wow,” he gasped under his breath, imagining the horror of being ripped apart in the night.

“Pretty bad, huh?” Y/N said sadly, eyes watering as she stared at the ruined bedsheets, the knocked over side table, the curtains sprayed with crimson.

Sam nodded, looking back over his shoulder. “Do you mind if I…”

“Yeah, do what you need to do,” Y/N agreed quickly and turned away, falling back against the wall next to the door. Her breath was shaky, shoulders high and tense. She closed her eyes but the blood remained. She held hummed to herself, but Robbie’s screams were still fresh in her ears.  

Dean saw her panic and reached out a hand, cupping her elbow gently.

She startled, pulling in a heavy breath as she looked up to find him there, brows creased with concern, same old Dean.

“You OK?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Y/N shook her head and wrapped her arms around her chest, fingers brushing against Dean’s. “I haven’t been back in there since,” she confessed dryly. “Been sleeping on the couch. Can’t even go in to get my clothes.”

Dean sighed and gave her elbow a squeeze. “I’m really sorry.” He looked up as if there was a pamphlet on how to comfort an ex lover over the death of her husband written on the ceiling, but there was nothing helpful; just a photo of Robbie and Y/N at some party, smiling and happy.

“That him?” Dean asked, nodding up to the framed picture.

Y/N twisted a bit, pushing herself off of the wall to look. “Yeah.” She smiled. “He’s really great. I think you’d like him.” Darkness flashed over her eyes and she bit her lip. “Was. He was really great. Fuck. Dean, what am I gonna do?”

His heart broke as she looked up for an answer. “I don’t know, Y/N/N,” he told her honestly, sadness tightening his throat. “But I’m gonna help you get through this first part, ok? I promise.”

His smile was sad but true and she grabbed his hand, holding it tight.  

Dean was only supposed to stay a week. Just one week to rest and recharge before meeting up with John in Milwaukee.

The week had come and gone, but Dean was still in town, still creeping around the Bluebird Motel, still hanging around with Y/N.

Two weeks of sneaking into the alley during her breaks to kiss until the mood grew desperate.

Two weeks of staying late to walk her home through the dark, hand in hand, fingers entwined, steps in sync.

Two weeks of picking her up early on her days off and driving the winding back roads with the windows down and Zep on the radio.

Two weeks of passionate touches in the backseat, biting kisses in the woods by the lake, inexperienced but eager tongues colliding in every shadow.

Two weeks were slowly becoming three, three faded to four, and as summer began to fade, John’s phone calls to his son became more and more demanding.

Dean had to go.

“You could stay, ya know,” Y/N said softly, her fingers curled around his, her back resting against his chest.

They sat on the hood and watched the moonlight dance across the lake, black still ink split by pale yellow.

Dean bent his lips to her temple. “I can’t, baby. I’m sorry.” His young voice cracked around the hurt. “I gotta go. My dad needs me.”

“I need you, Dean.” Her whisper was bookended by heavy breaths that carried tears.

“You don’t understand,” Dean sighed. “I’m all he’s got.”

She shuddered against him, trying not to give in to the hurt, the pain of him actually leaving. She knew he never meant to stay, but the longer he was there, the longer he was hers, the harder it was to let him go.

Dean wrapped his arm around her tight and held on, burying his nose in her hair, breathing deep. “I’d stay if I could, you know that.”

She didn’t speak for a long while, didn’t move other than to breathe. When she finally returned to the moment, Y/N kissed his arm and pushed away, sliding off of the cool metal and hitting the grass with a thud.

“Come here, Dean,” she said with a smile, turning away even as she called him, facing the lake.

He watched in awe and sadness as Y/N shed her clothes, stripping quickly in the moonlight and dipping a toe into the lake. She shivered and then went for it, running in a few yards before jumping, disappearing beneath the surface like a mermaid in the deep ocean.

“Dean! Come on!”

The water was cold but he made it, swimming over to where she tread water, haloed by the reflection of the moon.

She brushed up against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. Their lips met in a familiar rhythm while she floated against his nakedness, skin on skin, soft in the water.

“I love you, Dean,” she whispered, water pouring down from her hair to hide the tears. Dean kissed them away, holding her tight. “I think I’m always gonna love you.”

They fucked in the backseat; scratchy blanket laid out to catch the lake as it slid from their bodies. It was slow but desperate, out of time and a little bit clumsy. They both needed it to last, needed to remember every moment, but the heat of youth sped up time and soon Dean was dropping Y/N off at her house, midnight moon starting to turn towards the west.

He never went back.

Dean had promised to meet her before work the next morning, just one last goodbye, but he never showed.

Sometimes he imagined her standing outside the little diner; apron slung over her shoulder, waiting, straining her neck to look down the road for him. Did she cry? Did she scream and curse his name? He’d never find out.

He never went back.

Sam’s voice echoed a bit in the hallway. “Uh, Dean?”

Y/N nodded towards the room, letting Dean know that she was OK.

“What’s the deal?” he asked, carefully stepping over the muck and gore that decorated the floor.

“Well,” Sam began, kneeling down to lift the edge of the carpet. “Here’s your animal scratches…” Long gashes were carved into the hardwood, massive claws unlike any bear markings they’d ever seen.

“Ok…”

Sam sighed and popped up, motioning for Dean to follow him to the window. The sill was caked in yellow powder. “Sulfur.”

Dean groaned. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“No, it’s not.”

The door creaked as Y/N leaned against it, barely more than half a foot inside the room.

Dean turned to her. “Y/N? Did your husband… uh…” He didn’t know how to ask suddenly. Looking at her sad eyes, standing amidst the blood of her dead husband, Dean was lost for words.

Sam found them, jumping in to help. “Did Robbie come into any wealth over the last ten years? Maybe a promotion at work, or a miraculous health cure? Anything strange like that?”

Y/N moved away from the door and took a step inside. A chill ran down her spine and she hugged herself, shivering at the scene. When she saw the rug pulled back, saw the deep scratches on the floor, she let out a sob that nearly knocked her over.

Dean rushed to her side, hands cautiously grabbing her upper arms to help her stand. “It’s ok, we can do this later.”

She shook her head and looked up at Dean, taking a deep breath to calm down. “It was his job,” she said steadily.

Dean frowned, wanting to grab her and hold her close. “What was?”

“He made the deal for a promotion at work,” she said simply.

Across the room, Sam jerked on his feet, a little shocked by the new information. “Wait, so you know what happened?”

Y/N broke away from Dean and nodded. “Yeah, I know. He told me all about it when he did it.” She moved to stand in the middle of the room, looking down at the space Robbie’s body had laid. “Sold his soul to a red eyed crossroads demon who breezed into town one night.”

Dean’s shoulders fell and he rubbed at this cheek. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“He knew what he was doing,” she said, quietly. “So did I.”

Sam flinched. “What?”

Y/N swallowed hard and explained. “He made his deal for money,” she said. “I made mine for love.”

Slowly, she turned to look at Dean who hadn’t moved in forever. His lips parted and his eyes went blank as the gears took a moment to turn in his head.

“You did what?” His heart was racing, lungs refusing to do their job.

The wetness in her eyes began to fall, dripping down her cheeks like rain on a window, untouched, unguided. “I couldn’t get over you, Dean,” she whispered. “Robbie was always there, ya know? Even when I was growing up. Always. Always picking up the pieces of my shitty little life,  but after you left, there were just too many pieces. He wasn’t gonna wait around for me forever, and I didn’t blame him. I tried, Dean. I tried so hard to forget you, to get over you, but…” She stopped to breathe, lips trembling as she cried. “He was gonna leave me too, so I…”

“You made a deal,” Sam finished, nodding to himself in understanding.

“I did.”

Dean felt the world moving beneath his feet; gravity was making itself known to him and his stomach couldn’t take it. He slumped forward, hands hitting his thighs. “How could you do that?” He stood back up, panting around the pain in his chest. “How could you do that!”

Y/N crossed her arms and shook her head, looking to the ceiling, to the bloody bed, anywhere but at Dean. “I sold my soul to forget you, Dean Winchester,” she said finally, tears drying as the pain returned. Dean Winchester, my first true love, my burning sun. I sold my sold to a demon to be free of you forever. And yet, here you are, back to haunt me during my last hours…”

Dean’s head rolled to the side and back as his tears fell. “I don’t know what to do,” he cried. “I don’t know how to fix this!”

Sam called to him, hoping to break his brother’s rage, but he once again went ignored.

“I don’t know how to help you, Y/N! I don’t know how to break a demon deal! I…”

Y/N closed the space between them and lay a hand on his chest. “Dean…”

“I don’t know what to do!”

She pushed up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “You do what you did all those years ago. You get in your car and drive away.”

Dean crumbled. “No. I shouldn’t have left you. I can’t do that.”

“You’re going to. I knew the terms when I made the deal. I just didn’t think I’d have to say goodbye to you again. So… please… just go so I don’t have to. Do me that one favor.”

He kissed her hard, hands holding her face still as he pushed every ‘I’m Sorry’, every missed ‘I Love You’ into it. When it was done, so was he, and Dean let her go, turning on his heel and rushing for the door.

Y/N watched them go, standing at the top of the stairs as they reached her front door. Dean paused, hand slipping from the antique knob before following Sam outside.

He turned, green eyes lifting to the top of the stairs. “Y/N…”

She smiled and gave him a tiny wave.

“I’ll see you in Hell, Dean Winchester.”

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @dolphincliffs @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @our-jensen-ackles-love  @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie @risingphoenix761 @roonyxx @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @shadowkat-83 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnficgirl  @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-took-me-over @thehardcoveraddict @tmiships4life @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride

#spn fanfic #dean x reader #fia challenge round1 #angst

[lucilleamiel]

12.01 am 1st January 1980, Eric Foremans living room.

Red has his arm around Kitty's shoulders with that little smile of his, you know the one he only gives her.

Kitty is beaming, her baby boy is back from Africa. Everything is going back to how it should be, she glances at the couple on the stairs, or nearly as it should be atleast.

Said baby boy Eric is staring at Donna, his Donna, trying to figure out how this is all going to work and whether she's going to knee him in the nads after the New Years celebrations die down.

Donna is just glad Eric is back, still pissed at him, but she realises she hasn't been all rainbows herself for the past few months since he left - they'll figure it out, they will actually talk through this properly put all their cards on the table and work it out.

Kelso is wondering what would happen if he got a slab of beer and tapped all the fireworks he has left to it and set them off, like would it rain beer and he could just run around with his mouth open? Or would the whole slab get projected into outer space? And if it did go into outer space, would he be famous? Would little Betsy be able to one day say "look how cool my daddy is, he made beer fly. Burn"

Fez is smiling at his goddess on the stair case. He can't belive he finally got her, he can't wait to show her off to everyone, ha the sons of bitches wont be laughing anymore, hes had brief thoughts over the past week on how he is going to tell Jackie he is still technically still married to Laurie, but he figures that's a 1980's problem and he'll just buy her a necklace and tell her she's beautiful. After all she shiny things.

Jackie is smiling again, it's not the same smile that used to grace her face, not with the same twinkle in her eyes, but she feels better then she has in months. This is going to be her year.

Hyde has just opened up another can, surely beer was a gift from the gods, beer, rock n roll and pizza that's all he need this year. He glances up at the two figures on the stair case.

"Get off my chick you dillhole perv!"

it's slow motion, the can goes flying and hits the wall just behind Fezs head, Jackie with an almost elated but shocked expression, Fez with a look of horror. Kitty basically jumping up and down with joy, Red has that look on his face, where you just know he's thinking this god damn dumbarse finally figured it out. Eric has his eyebrows raised eyes shifting from Hyde to Jackie. Donna's smiling. Kelso is just looking comically at the beer.

The can hits the wall, beer explodes from the end every where, splashing over Jackie's dress and down over Fezs head the room goes quiet, the record has selected the perfect time to stop.

"oh!" Kelso says loudly, "I was gonna be the one to make beer squirt everywhere!" he huffs out of the living room and slams through the kitchen door.

"might just go and make sure he doesn't have anymore fireworks." Eric says standing up and grabbing Donna's hand.

"yeah we don't want a repeat of '75." Donna says as the two quickly walk out of the room.

"He better not have fireworks near the Toyota!" Red calls as he pulls Kitty with him, "I might have flash backs to the last time I had explosions going off near a Japanese machine. And if that happens my foot will go in his arse!" Kitty is desperately trying to stay where she is and resist Reds pulling, she's grabbed the shelf behind her.

"No Red, I've waited too long for this!"

Red spins around and grabs her around the waist, he picks her up and pulls her with him. "Remember Kitty, Eric is back, he's in our back yard with his kettle head friend and that Pinciotti girl."

Jackie is gingerly wiping her face with her sleeve, trying to figure out what just happened.

Fez is is breathing deeply looking at his curly haired, pornstache wearing friend. "you son of a bitch!"

"Fez," Jackie reaches out to touch his arm.

"you ruined my shirt!" he cries pulling his arm back from Jackie to inspect the sleeve.

Hyde had stepped towards Jackie as soon as the can had left his fingers.

"crap, are you OK?" he asks looking at her, "Fez shut up man, I'm sorry, it was a girly shirt anyway Fredrica. "

"Steven what the hell?" Jackie yells standing up, "how could you do that?"

Hyde looks at her, and it suddenly clicks with him what he had just said and done. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out he's drawn a black.

Jackie is giving him that look, that one which is telling him to use his words and answer, but how can he after what's happened these last few months.

"oh jackie, the son of a bitch still loves you, and he doesn't care that once again he's breaking someone's heart." Fez cries dramatically, shooting a dirty look to Hyde. Before going back to check his now beer soaked hair. Jackies is looking at Hyde, strangely oblivious to the beer which has dropped down the front of her dress and is still slowly dripping from her fringe. Hyde swallows and licks his lips nervously, he couldn't possibly still love her -, he didn't even love her in the first place, with her bossy ways and spolied princess attitude, and her stupid hair and ridiculously good looks, and that look she used to give him, the one which said he was her Knight in shining armour. How she could be so fiery and passionate and so superficial but actually quite smart and intelligent underneath. And like when she used to kiss him and it didn't matter how crap his day had been it just made it better and how he used to spend time with her just doing nothing but being with her.

"oh crap."

*********

So this really turned out to be longer then I planned. Now have a whole little story planned out from this. Was thinking about how season 8 could have been saved and really by adding Hyde saying get off my chick to the kissing jackie and fez would have been the last resort, but I think would have guaranteed a season 9.

#Jackie and hyde #zenmasters #That 70s show #The real ending to season 8 #Shes my chick #jackie burkhart #Steven hyde

[stoopsbookstore]

Kinktober Day 5 (10/05/2019)

Kink - Mechanophilia (Sexual arousal caused by machines), Bonus light impregnation kink

"I don't think we should take the contact."

The 10 guys of NCT Chop shop were in a sticky situation. An offical letter from SJ industries offered the boys 1,000 dollars each if they allowed the company to take over their workshop, the one place that they've felt free enough to be themselves and work on their projects.

"Where would we go?" Taeil asked the group, all with unsure grimaces on their faces.

"With 10,000 grand, we should be able to find a cheap enough place that we can work from, possibly in a better neighborhood and that could mean more rich clientele," Jungwoo spoke up, looking the letter over.

"We should at least try to talk them up to two grand a piece," Doyoung took the letter from the younger boy, reading one sentence out loud, "right here, it says 'We will stop by tomorrow,' meaning today, 'to talk about any problems and possible solutions.' We could talk to them then."

"But we still need to come to a consensus, take the money or not?" Taeyong, their democratically appointed leader, looked at the 9 other members, "all for one and one for all, remember?"

A knock at the large door shocked the boys, Yuta going over to open it, 3 tall men and a girl around their age on the other side.

"Hello," a man in a gray suit with the nametag 'Leeteuk' looked the group up and down, "you must be the gentlemen who work here. Is there a manager?"

"I guess that would be me?" Taeyong walked towards him, sticking his hand out, "I'm Taeyong, pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Likewise," Leeteuk shook Taeyong's hand, wiping his hand on his pants as Taeyong gestured the others to come inside, "this is Shindong and Heechul, and my secretary, Y/N."

The group bowed, Y/N keeping her eye on the tall boy whose coveralls were embroidered with "Johnny" in red thread on the left side of his chest.

"Now," Leeteuk threw his suitcase at Y/N, the girl catching and holding it to her side, "I assume you boys are willing to take the offer? I mean, judging on how this place works, you could use the money."

"Wel-"

Taeil was cut off by Leeteuk, "Don't tell me you're thinking about not taking the offern? 10,000 for you must be a lot."

"It is," Taeyong hid the disgust on his face for the cocky male, "but this is also our home, we've been here for years, some of us have even stayed here when we had nowhere else to go. One grand a piece isn't enough to make us part with this place."

"How about we talk about this?" Leeteuk threw his hands in a smug manner, "Shindong, Heechul, go with the others while I talk to Mr. Taeyong."

"What do yo-"

"Oh, that's right, Y/N is here too," Leeteuk looked at the group, "Lanky boy, what's your name?"

"I can tell you it's not Lanky Boy," Johnny looked up, displaying his name on his clothes, "I assume you can read, seeing as you are a huge CEO?"

Y/N and Johnny's nine friends started laughing, Leeteuk whipping his head around to give an annoyed stare at his secretary, the girl immediately halting all actions and staring at the floor. Leeteuk threw his hand over the shoulder of Taeyong as the tourgroups began to break off, Johnny and Y/N shaking each other's hands.

"Taeyong my boy, let's go talk," Leeteuk practically dragged Taeyong away from his friends, the leader looking at the other mechanics with a concerned look on his face.

"Is he always like that?" Johnny asked Y/N, the boy picking up a rag and wiping some grease off his face.

"Do you always keep those googles on?" Johnny touched his face at Y/N's comment, playfully rolling his eyes.

"They're stylish, but back to that Lettuce dude."

"It's Leeteuk and You'd be surprised how kind he can actually be when he's not talking about business," Y/N scoffed, looking around the huge area, machines, wood and metal decorating the space.

"Ah," a simple word out of Johnny's mouth as he notices Y/N's interest, "would you like to take a look around? None of the tools are plugged in, so no Final Destination deaths here."

Y/N awkwardly chuckled at the sight of the handsome boy, "umm, yeah, sure."

"We call this Ellie," Johnny pointed to a big machine, picking up a giant tube, "she helps us clean up faster, sucking up all the dust and dirt."

Y/N smiled and nodded along, watching Johnny excitedly go from machine to machine.

"Here we have a wood splitter, nothing fancy, just sort of does what its name says it does," Johnny gestured to a small room inside the workspace, "we call this the tool prison, drills, hammers, nails, screws, you name it, it's in there."

Johnny pulled out a chainsaw, pretending to rev it up as Y/N jumped back, still quiet so she won't interrupt Johnny's excitement.

"I call this Betsy, she's been my tool since day 1," Johnny showed Y/N the carved out name in the side of his chainsaw, "she's a bit old, but still works."

"How did you get into mechanics and tools?" Y/N walked over to a table, a nailgun, a drill and some screws scattered on the top.

"They're sexy," a laugh from Y/N causing Johnny to make fingers gun, "but seriously, Taeyong and Taeil needed someone else to help them with their projects and I was in the same woodshop class with them a few years ago."

Y/N walked around, exploring the shop, "do you want to continue giving me the tour?"

"Sure, why not? This is a table saw, one of my friends actually almost got injured real bad by this one," Johnny started fucking with the machine, spinning the sawblade as Y/N visibly freaked out while Johnny played with the sharp tool, "she was using this tool for a show that her class was putting on, one of the triangles she was cutting had a nail or staple in it and it shut out, narrowly missing her."

"Ohmygod, is she okay?" Y/N cringed at the story, Johnny putting the safety cover back on the machine, smirking at Y/N.

"Yeah, she's fine," Johnny put his arm up, hand hidden in his sleeve, spooking Y/N, "she just has to live with one hand!"

Y/N gently smiled, continuing to look around as Johnny watches her walk around, noticing her skirt keeps raising up, the girl having to pull it down every few steps.

"Why do you work for that Leek Dance dude?" Johnny sat next to the table saw, keeping his eyes on Y/N, "like he's such a douche."

"He's my stepbrother's friend," Y/N walked over to Johnny, "the one with the pinkish hair? Heechul? He's my stepbrother and one of Leeteuk's best friends. Leeteuk offered him a job and said he would only take it if I could have an internship."

Johnny nods, swinging his legs, "an internship? That's it? Do you get paid?"

"Yeah," Y/N shrugs, standing a few feet in front of Johnny, "but it goes to Heechul for the most part. Leeteuk says 'it's for the best until Y/N can learn to control her money,' even though, you know, I'm able to do so."

As Johnny started to speak, Y/N cut him off.

"You asked me a question, I get one."

"Ok, alright. What do you want to know?"

"What's your favorite machine?"

"Does Betsy count," Johnny jumped down from the table, his googles now around his neck, Y/N shaking her head, "alright. I guess it'll have to be the table saw, come here and I'll show you a better view."

Y/N walked over to the table saw, Johnny caging her in as he showed her the unplugged cable.

"Just so no one gets their face mauled, you make sure this is never in the wall unless there is a piece of wood under it," Johnny lays the cord next to the saw, gently grabbing Y/N's hand and placing it on one of the handles and placing the other on a button, "this right here is to move it left and right. Go ahead, push the button and try it."

Y/N pressed the orange button, maneuvering the power tool, Johnny placing his hand on top of hers as he lifted up the safety cover.

"Remember, it's unplugged, so it's not going to hurt you," Johnny repositioned himself in a more comfortable position, his chest flushed to Y/N's back, the secretary feeling her body heating up at the mechanic's proximity.

Johnny watched Y/N's hands roam over the machinery, her nails tracing each curve, Johnny feeling his pants tighten as he imagines her hands on his body, tugging at his hair and pulling on hi-

"Umm," Y/N turned around, looking down at Johnny's bulge that became prominent, Johnny stammering, "I guess you were right about machines being sexy."

Johnny barely opened his mouth, Y/N using his own words against him, the pair moving impossibly close to each other as they begun to heavily make out. Y/N took off her coat, throwing it to the side, and Johnny throwing the googles around his neck along with it.

Johnny helped the girl on the metal table, the table saw right next to her, pulling her shirt above her breasts as he immediately begun to suck on one of her nipples. Y/N's hands found their way to Johnny's hair, running them through his greasy, but soft locks.

Pulling away, Johnny unzipped his coverall, pulling his cock out his boxers, bringing Y/N in for a kiss, teasing her by rubbing his cock up and down along her covered core.

"Would you like prot-"

"I'm on birth control, just fuck me," Y/N shimmied her skirt further up, the fabric looking more like a belt, allowing her to spread her legs more, a wet spot growing in the middle of her underwear.

Johnny leaned down to kiss up Y/N's body before pulling her panties to the side, guiding his cock, pushing into Y/N. His hands immediately went up Y/N's body to play with her nipples, Johnny nuzzling into Y/N's neck.

"I'm gonna fill you up with my cum," Johnny nipped Y/N's neck, thrusting into her as she held a hand over her mouth, not wanting to be caught, "barely know you, but I'm gonna make you mine."

Y/N moved her arm to lean herself up, accidentally knocking a belt sander to the floor.

"Thing was a piece of shit anyway," Johnny helped her, holding her close to his chest, Y/N scratching down his back, "next time I see you, maybe I can eat you out in the tool closet, fuck you up the ass on the wood splitter, would you like that?"

"Yes, Johnny," Y/N moaned out the mechanic's name, her forehead slick against his chest, his pounding into her not stopping, "fuck me all over the place."

"Have you sit on the table while that shitty belt sander vibrates the whole table," Johnny nipped on Y/N's ear, bucking his hips at an angle that made Y/N's high start to creep up, "maybe do it in front of your boss, piss him off."

Y/N whimpered in Johnny's arms, the feeling in her gut twisting as he continued to whisper the dirtiest things she's heard.

Y/N hadn't noticed she came until Johnny pulled her even closer.

"Good girl," Johnny looked at her, his forehead sweaty and his eyes half opened, "now you're gonna be even better and take my cum."

Johnny thrusted a few more times, Y/N sensitive in his arms, his cum seeping out of his sudden lover. He stayed in her, grabbing a cloth from his back pocket and wiping her forehead. A moment passed before Y/N broke the tension, Johnny's hand caressing her back.

"Normally, you're supposed to turn machines on, not the other way around." Johnny laughed, pulling out of Y/N and pulling down her panties, putting them in his pocket as he fixed her skirt.

"You want these back? Make a date with me," Johnny smiled as Y/N nodded, hopping off the table just as the group came back.

"So, we have a deal, Mr. Leeteuk?" Taeyong smiled triumphantly while Leeteuk shook his hand, "2 grand a piece, we keep this area and teach a class every week?"

"Yes," Leeteuk grimaced, staring at Y/N in Johnny's arms, her legs wobbling a bit, "what's wrong with you?"

"She tripped," Johnny held onto Y/N's waist, "she accidentally tripped over the belt sander that Haechan left out."

Haechan looked down at his feet, Leeteuk looking for any sign of something in her eyes. When he couldn't find any, he straightened his suit jacket.

"Ok, it was a pleasure to meet you gentlemen, this is going to be a fine partnership."

Handshakes were had all around, Johnny walking up to Y/N, taking his phone out and handing it to her. Y/N typed in her phone number, texting her number so she could have Johnny's. Leeteuk called after Y/N, the girl walking as poised as she could. After the gate closed, Johnny's phone vibrated, the text bringing a big smile on his face.

That wood splitter idea sounds fun ;)

#johnny seo #johnny #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct #nct 127 #nct au #kinktober #my writings

[marvxlousqueen]

Warren Worthington- Not Like This

warnings: underage drinking, cussing, that’s it lmao

word count: 1.4 K

A/N: i saw an episode of new girl with a plot like this and I LITERALLY WROTE THIS IN ONE SESSION LIKE I STARTED IT AT 6 AND FINISHED IT AT 7 IVE NEVER BEEN SO INSPIRED WTFFF also i’m still working on a warren smut BUT I HAD TO WRITE THIS ASAP

(Y/n)’s thoughts were pulled away from her homework as someone pounded on her door.

“Open up!!!”

(Y/n) hopped up, heading to the door, “What the fu-”

“Hey!” 

Jubilee pushed her way into (Y/n)’s room, hands holding two bottles of vodka.

“What the fuck? Why-”

“Guess what?! My senior friend just turned 18 so look what she brought me!!”

“No.”

Jubilee placed the bottles on (Y/n)’s desk. 

“Jubilee, no! One, we’re underage. What if the professor or Hank finds out? And two, I have so much homework!”

“Oh shut up! It’s Friday night. You can do your work tomorrow. Plus..... Warren will be there.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, letting out a huff as she sat down on her bed. 

“Isn’t he still dating Betsy?”

Jubilee laughed, “They were never dating- just hooking up.”

(Y/n) glared at her, “That doesn’t make it any better. And that doesn’t answer my question!”

She sat next to (Y/n) on the bed, “Jean said that Scott said that Warren said he dropped her. Said something about wanting to actually date someone, not just hook up.”

(Y/n) stayed silent, eyes trained on the bottles sitting at her desk. Her mind was running wild with thoughts of Warren. They had been very close their freshman year at the school, having shared four classes. (Y/n) had been unable to stop herself from forming feelings. She never once spoke of them to Warren, too afraid for the inevitable moment where he would say, “I like you, but as a friend.”

(Y/n) however, didn’t know that Warren had felt the same that year. And every year after. He constantly felt like he wasn’t good enough for her. Actually scratch that- he knew he wasn’t good enough for her. He figured the best way to suppress those feelings was to focus on other girls, a lot of other girls.

Even throughout his little fuck boy phase, (Y/n) was still his best friend. Except lately it had been different. He started to confide in Scott more. There were things he couldn’t share with (Y/n). They were usually about (Y/n) so obviously he couldn’t talk to her about how he’d had a crush on her since 9th grade. 

“(Y/n).”

“Huh?”

“I bet he wants to date you.”

“Shut up.”

Jubilee shoved her, “I’m serious! You guys are so close!”

“That doesn’t mean anything. We are just friends. Don’t get my hopes up.”

Jubilee hummed, not knowing what to say to that. “Well, he’s coming over here. The whole gang is.”

“Why is it always my room?”

Jubilee gestured like it was obvious, “You have the most furniture! More space for True American!”

(Y/n) sighed, leaning back, “You suck.”

“I rock! You should clean up before tonight, I’ll get the vacuum.”

It was now 9:30 and the whole “gang” ((Y/n), Scott, Jean, Warren, Kurt, Ororo, Jubilee, and Peter) were almost done with one of the bottles. 

They were in the middle of true american, a drinking game Peter had made up his first year at the school. The game was usually utter nonsense, but seemed even worse now that everyone was tipsy. They had been playing for an hour, each person still in the game was stationed on a piece of furniture to avoid the hot lava (the floor). 

Peter downed his shot, “High stakes round for the remaining players! Kiss and tell!”

(Y/n), Ororo, Warren, and Jean (the remaining players) followed suit, downing their vodka, “Kiss and tell!”

“Okay,” Peter slurred, “Doing the count, okay?”

Warren placed his cup down on the desk he was standing on, “No one do three! No one do three!”

Peter cleared his throat, “Doing the count! Three, two, one!” 

As he counted down everyone put a number on their forehead using their fingers. 

Miraculously, it seemed as though no one had the same number. 

“Warren! (Y/n)! You’re up!” 

Warren stood up straight on the desk, “What?! I said don’t do three!”

(Y/n) looked at her hand, clearly holding up two fingers, “I didn’t!”

“Huh?,” Warren looked at his hand, holding up two fingers as well, “Oh! I forgot to do three.”

“Stupid!”

Peter started chanting, “Kiss and tell! Kiss and tell!”

“No! Come on, we’re too drunk for this!”

(Y/n) hated to admit how hearing Warren protest hurt her feelings. 

“You know the rules, kiss and tell or you’re out! And this is high stakes! We’re up to $20 in the pile.”

Warren groaned, hopping off the desk, being safe from the lave because of “kiss and tell.” 

(Y/n) climbed off her nightstand, following Warren towards the corner that over the past few months has been named “the kissing corner” for this reason exactly. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Peter started the chant, getting everyone else to join.

Warren placed his hands on (Y/n)’s shoulders awkwardly. “I don’t want to do this.”

Ouch, she thought.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t want to though.”

Ouch again.

“Just kiss me! Or we’re both out.”

“No!”

“Warren if you get me out of this game I swear to God!”

“I don’t want to!”

Peter clapped his hands together, “Come on! Don’t be a pussy! High stakes! High stakes!”

“Just do it, Warren.”

Warren closed his eyes, slowly leaning in. 

“No- I, I can’t do this.”

“Oh come on! $20!”

“Just no, (Y/n)! Not- not like this.”

“W-what?”

(Y/n)’s eyes were wide, trying to understand what that meant.

“N-nothing. Just- just..” 

Warren’s cheeks were bright red, and not just from the alcohol. He let go of her shoulders, pushing past her and out the door. 

“What?” (Y/n) felt like she was rooted to the spot.

“So.. Warren is disqualified! (Y/n), you’re still in and we can do another round of the count for kiss and tell.”

(Y/n) looked at Peter and then back at the door, “No, I-I need to go talk to him, sorry. I’m out.”

(Y/n) ran out of her room, not even bothering to put shoes on, which was probably a bad idea because she immediately fell on her ass as she tried to run down the hallway in her socks. 

(Y/n) stood back up, deciding to walk around the school, hoping to find Warren somewhere. She first went to his dorm, knocking. She couldn’t hear anyone inside so she decided to move towards the back hallway. As she walked past the windows, she saw the stark white of Warren’s wings. He was sitting on a bench outside, staring off into the lake.

(Y/n) tiptoed outside, not wanting to be heard yet. She snuck up behind him before taking a seat next to him. He didn’t flinch at all, just stayed staring forward.

“Hey.”

Warren nodded, glancing towards her real quick before looking back towards the water.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry if I-”

“You didn’t do anything, don’t apologize.”

(Y/n) nodded, staring at the water with him. 

“So what was that?”

Warren shrugged, his face burning.

“Don’t just shrug. What did “not like this” mean? Not like what?”

“It’s nothing, (Y/n).”

She rolled her eyes, looking at him. “It’s obviously something.”

Warren huffed, “I- I just didn’t want to kiss you for a stupid game.”

“It wouldn’t have been stupid, we could’ve been in the running for $20 bucks!”

Warren let out a small laugh, “You don’t get it.”

He glanced towards her before looking down at his feet. 

“I like you, (Y/n). And- and I didn’t want to have our first kiss in front of all of them while getting drunk in a stupid drinking game.”

“Oh-”

“I’m sorry, that was probably embarrassing for you, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, Warren. It’s okay. I- um, like you too.”

Warren’s head whipped to face her, “Really? Like actually?”

(Y/n) nodded, giving him a shy smile. 

“Cool, cool, cool-”

“Cool.”

“Did you drop Betsy to date me?”

Warren’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“Well, Jubilee said-”

“Scott, that little bastard. I trust him with ONE secret and he tells the whole world.”

(Y/n)’s leg was bouncing up and down, “So it’s true?”

“Yeah. I mean- honestly I only ever got with Betsy to try and not like you, but it just made things worse.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I’m stupid.”

(Y/n) nodded, “Yeah.”

Warren elbowed her lightly, making her laugh. He turned to see her face. 

“C-can I kiss you now? Show you how I wanted it to be like?”

(Y/n) nodded, feeling speechless.

Warren slowly leaned in, eyes closed. His lips brushed up against hers lightly before the kiss became more firm. (Y/n) felt fireworks going off in her stomach and felt as though all the breath had been sucked out of her. She pulled away to get air.

“Wow.”

Warren laughed, kissing her cheek. 

“I wanted it like that. Just us. No games.”

“I liked that.”

“Me too.” 

taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @billyhargovesgurl @babebenhardy @rexorangecouny @cyndagoaway @killcomet @mcrmarvelloki @queen-turtle-boiii @hardlylo @ziggymay @jacqueline1916 @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ixchel-9275 @queen-baelin 

hmu to be added!

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington iii x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #x men apocalypse #x men #warren!fluff

[versdan]

Smile (joker!Carol Danvers x Reader)

summary: You’re dating Carol who is now the infamous Joker. What will you do when she needs you by her side for the rest of her career?

A/N: OKAY! HEAR ! ME ! OUT ! I just saw the Joker and I wanna write for Arthur but then I thought of this concept and....I-I don’t know. I might make this a series but I’ll see from the feedback off this. This might flop lmao. I hope you guys enjoy & sorry for any typos! Requests are open!

pairings: Carol Danvers x F!Reader

*CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE MOVIE! And also kinda an alternate ending? (For those who have seen the movie)*

flashbacks are italics

———

Carol sat in a chair somewhere she didn’t even know, worried about you. She had just come home from the Murray Franklin show, coming off her high of adrenaline after the shot she gave him.

Running a hand down her face, sighing, her mind kept running about you and your whereabouts. You had told her you would be working late tonight before you had left the apartment. That’s one of the reasons she was freaking out.

-

“I’m gonna be late tonight babe so don’t be worried or anyth-“ you came into the room to see Carol painting on a clown face and had green hair. She looked at you through the mirror, smiling.

“What’s with the look, hun?” You said, coming up to stand behind her. She continued to look at you before going back to doing her makeup.

“Just prepping myself for the Murray show. Gotta show him I’m the real joker” she laughed, before looking back at you. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion before smiling at her.

“Well, have fun tonight babe. Love you” you said, kissing the top of her head before heading out the room.

“Love you too” Carol screamed back, before hearing the door close. As you walked down the hallway to the elevator, you saw Randall and Gary walk out of the elevator.

“Hey guys” you smiled at them as they both looked at you with sad eyes.

“Is Carol in there?” Randall asked you while you pressed the button to the slow elevator.

“Yeah she’s in there, just knock. I’ll see you guys later” you spoke to them as the doors closed, little did you know that’d be the last time you’d see them.

-

Hell had broke loose tonight in Gotham and although it made Carol estatic, she couldn’t help but feel a void in her stomach. People had brought her to this building since the cops were looking for Carol so she was even unknown of where she was at.

Carol stood up and started pacing. Hitting her head with the palms of her hands while people around her stared. They were enamoured by the jokester but right now they were confused as to what she was doing.

-

On your end, you were hiding behind the counter of the diner you worked at while people threw things through the window, shouting and laughing.

You were holding onto your knees, closing your eyes hoping things would stop and if they don’t you’d wait till daylight to make a run for it.

-

Carol stopped pacing before remembering your stores phone number. She turned to the nearest guy who gulped when she looked at him straight on.

“You know where the nearest phone is?” She asked him, a small smile on her face as he nodded yes slowly. He walked her out of the building, checking the surroundings, seeing the block was empty before heading to the phone booth on the corner.

Carol rushed in while the guy stood outside as lookout. She punched in the numbers quickly as the phone started to ring.

Your diners phone started ringing loudly right when everything became silent. You rushed to pick up the phone, grabbing a hold of the entire phone and bringing it to the floor with you.

“H-Hello?” You breathed out, shaking. Carol sighed in relief to hear your voice.

“(Y/N)? It’s me” Carol spoke softly in the phone, her tenseness immediately softening.

“Carol? What did you do? What’s going on?” You spoke into the phone. You felt a sense of fear while being on the phone with her. Your boss had put on the Murray Franklin show and you felt at awe when Carol came out but it quickly changed when she killed Murray. You didn’t know what to think, the whole coffee pot you were holding shattered on the ground because of your shock.

“(Y/N), everything is fine. Don’t you hear it outside?” She laughed slightly, seeing fires run along the street and people running. “This is what I wanted, babe. Just how I imagined it!”

You let out a whimper. “Carol, this isn’t funny. Why would you kill Murray” you asked her, covering your mouth after you heard someone step into the diner and onto the glass on the floor.

“To make a statement! Don’t you get it (Y/N)? Gotham has lost it’s ways! We needed something to change the way we think, the way we act. It’s bliss, babe! And now I’m free!” She laughed loudly, booming through the phone that you moved it from your ear.

You saw a shadow from around the corner of the counter move closer but then run out of the diner when there was a cop car on fire rolling down the street.

“I don’t even know who you are, Carol” you spoke into the phone, voice cracking as a tear slipping down your cheek. Something in Carol turned when she heard your voice cracked.

“I’m the Joker now, baby. And I’m gonna need you by my side from now on. Im coming to get you, stay where you are” Carol spoke into the phone, before hanging up and knocking on the phone booth door for the guy.

She opened the door and grabbed his collar. “I need you and your men to go to Betsy’s Diner on 5th and get (Y/N). Nothing happens to her or your dead. Got it?” Carol looked in dead in the eye as he nodded fast. She let go of his collar as he put his mask back down, before running back into the building.

You put the phone back on the housing unit before placing your hands on your face. You felt as if your world was spinning. Things were only going downhill that you didn’t know when it was going to stop.

You sat there for a couple more minutes thinking about what your next move should be. Do you wait for Carol? Do you make a run for it? To go back home? No she’d probably be there.

You heard a car pull up and multiple footsteps step out and come into the diner which made you freeze in your position on the floor. You saw one guy peer over the counter and look at you before turning to look at all the other guys. They were wearing the clown masks that had made headlines recently.

Two guys jumped over the counter and came straight for you, grabbing your arms which forced you up. “LET ME GO!” You screamed at them, thrashing around in their grip as they walked around the counter, holding onto you.

“Can’t do that sweets. She wants to see you” one of them said as they threw you into the back seat of the car before climbing in behind you and shutting the door.

“She?” You asked, hoping they weren’t talking about Carol. You wanted more than anything to not see her as you didn’t know who she was.

“The Joker” The driver spoke, looking at you through the rear view mirror, a sinister smile growing on his face. “Don’t look so down, doll. Put a smile on that face or else she’ll give you one” he spoke again, laughing. You leaned back into your seat, looking out the window, a tear running down your face as you regretted not making a run for it.

———

feedback is appreciated!

okay I actually really like this omg it might flop tho?? Idk?? lmk what you think!

tag list: @vcdanvers

#carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers one shot #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers #captain marvel x female reader #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine #captain marvel one shot #captain marvel fanfiction #captain marvel #marvel universe #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x dc crossover #joker #joker 2019 #joker au #avengers one shot #carol danvers x fem!reader

[shreddedparchment]

Shattered Glass Pt.03 - Final

Broken Hearts

07/15/2019

Pairing: Tony x Reader, Steve x Reader   Word Count: 6,447

Masterpost    Warnings: smut, language, ANGST, heavy drinking, neglect

A/N: This was a ride. I don’t end many fics this way but this one felt right. I think next time I write a Tonycentric fic I’ll make sure that Pepper isn’t in it in the way she was in this one. I’ll definitely need to do another Tony fic. This began as part of @moonbeambucky ‘s challenge. Again, I just pounded this thing out. Forgive any errors. I didn’t edit this AT ALL. I’ll need to come back. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“What happened to your arm?” Nat gasps, quickly moving forward to relieve you of the bulking suitcase you’re carrying and the one Tony’s sliding behind him.

“It’s my fault.” You tell her, cheeks burning as you remember your recklessness.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait for my signal, Princess. I’ll go in from the left. You go in from the right. We take them out a section at a time and work our way into that final bunker. I’m sure the big cheese is in there. Waiting like a moldy lump of gorgonzola.” Tony whispers into your comm.

“Doesn’t that just mean it’s ripe?” You check but you become distracted as the head honcho himself. “Tony, isn’t that-?”

“Son of a bitch.” Tony mutters, recognizing the bearded man. His olive skin, dark graying hair, dark eyes. He’s scarred on one side of his face, his right arm useless and held in a sling. “That’s the asshole that held me in a cave for three months.”

Abu Bakaar. You know him only from the briefs in the files that Tony has.

“How the hell is he still alive?” Tony growls.

You can hear the hate in his voice, the fear. “I can get him, Tony. Before he escapes again.”

“What? No. Stick to the plan.”

“He’ll get away.” You complain.

“Y/N, stick to the plan.”

“I’m going in after him.” And you dive forward, your target set, your path unknown.

“Shit, no!” Tony yells and with no other choice, he follows you into the lion’s den.

~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t you two ask for backup?” Nat chastises as Sam and Steve wander in from the hallway that leads to the gym.

They both stop as they spot the pair of you, moving towards you both like Nat did, with concern in their eyes.

“What happened?” Steve asks, noticing the sling holding Tony’s arm.

You bite your lip, then reach up to bite your thumb’s nail as you fuss over his injury. If you hadn’t been stupid, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

“I’m fine.” Tony insists. “Let’s just get this debrief over with so that I can go take many, many pills.”

Sam and Steve move up towards the long tables where debriefs usually occur.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you call Vision and Wanda?” Nat asks and doesn’t care to hear a response knowing the A.I. will do as she asks.

She’s already rushing to set up the computer.

“Tony…” You begin, moving towards him and reaching out for his uninjured hand.

He holds it up, stopping you, giving you no chance to grab his hand.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He insists.

When he drops his hand, you reach for it again, but he moves away from you, trailing up towards the table and taking a seat at the opposite head so that he can look at the large display without obstruction.

You linger by the steps, wringing your hands as a black hole begins to settle in the base of your stomach.

You sit to Tony’s right, staring at him in search of the soft cuddly man from the island.

Even after his injury he’d been so sweet with you, caressing your head as you set his arm—just a dislocated shoulder but it really hurt so you’d put it in a sling to force him not to use it—as he assured you that he was fine.

He won’t even look at you now.

You meet Steve’s eyes, sitting across from you, and find him frowning. Eyebrows drawn together as he watches the way you slide your hand towards Tony’s, but he pulls it away making a show of scratching the back of his head or adjusting the sling on his arm.

Your ears burn when you see Steve notice this and quickly pull your hands down into your lap and divert all of your attention to the display.

You’re not listening as Tony explains the layout of the base and the different outposts. He talks about the initial scouting you two did and you remember all the romance in the moments between it. The touches. The escapes to your room and the sex among glittering seafoam crested waves. Soft spoken promises of devotion.

“Y/N?” Steve calls, pulling your mind back to the present.

“What?” You ask, startled.

“Bakaar? Tony says you saw him get away?” Steve asks, his fingers rapping on the table.

He’s tense. He’s trying to hide it but you can see it on him.

“I uh…” You glance at Tony and find his chocolate browns almost black as he stares you down, frowning lightly because of course he can see you analyzing Steve.

You scoot closer to him and reach under the table, stroking the thick muscle of his thigh but he clears his throat and gets up, pacing to the railing behind him to lean against.

“Yeah. He was on a boat and out of sight before we could follow. It was my fuck up. If I’d waited like Tony wanted to, we might have had him.” You confess, hating yourself for screwing this up.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.” Steve assures you and maybe it’s because you and he haven’t really talked since your split but you’re grateful for his kindness and give him a small smile.

“It really was.” You promise him.

“Alright, he got away. We’ll keep an out for him. F.R.I.D.A.Y. send up all the usual red flags to all the big wigs. Get those satellites scanning. Find Bakaar.” Tony orders.

“Right away, boss.”

“Good? Okay. Nobody bother me. I’ll be drunk and drugged up in my room.” Tony announces then moves off towards the stairs.

You watch him as he goes, a small rise of panic in your chest at his upset with you. “If I can do anything, please let me know.”

Nat gives you a nod as she gathers up the mission reports and slides them to Steve, shutting off the computer as you rise. “Will do.”

You turn and scamper after Tony, eager to mend whatever break you’ve caused. “Tony?”

Steve waits for it, for their commentary on the way you seem to dote on Tony’s moods. He’s waiting for Sam to point out that you must have really fucked up in order for Tony to be so cold when he’s really only ever been full of affection for the woman he’s with.

An arm around their waist, hand holding, winks, even the occasional kiss on the cheek.

He can see that you and Tony have started seeing each other. It’s in the way you move, the looks you give him. It’s why Steve had stepped aside.

The moment Tony had told him that things with Pepper were going belly up, he knew that he’d eventually have to step aside so that you could have what you finally wanted.

Tony wanted you too, Steve has known that for a long time. Letting you go had been hard. He still wants to give in, go back to you, claim you as his own but he can’t because you want Tony.

He’d thrown himself into Betsy’s affections and that’s where he’s been for the past month.

So, the fact that Sam and Nat, Wanda and Vision already up and gone don’t comment on your anxiety throws him.

“What’s going on with them?” He asks and waits for one of them to answer.

“Vision and Wanda? They’re always like that. If you ask me, someone should have a talk with them about keeping the PDA a little more behind closed doors.” Sam complains.

Nat smirks. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t had a date in six weeks.”

“Four. Four weeks. Stop telling people it’s six weeks. That coffee with that nurse in the mess hall counts.” He says, pointing at Nat as she turns to look at Steve with that same smirk.

“What are you worrying about now?” She asks him, noticing the pucker between his eyes.

“I didn’t mean Vis and Wanda, I’m talking about Tony and Y/N.” Steve clears up, pulling the reports closer to adjust into a neater pile.

“Tony and Y/N?” Sam asks, getting up and shaking his head. “What about them? The mission was tough. I’m sure they’re just tired. Tony’s always a grump after a tough mission.”

“He’s being a little cold. So what?” Nat shrugs. “She did rush in and get his arm dislocated.”

Steve hesitates because he doesn’t want to say something and be wrong. But…no! It’s as clear as day to him that you and Tony are finally dating.

“Anyway, it’s kinda your fault for saying no.” Nat accuses him.

“My fault?” Steve asks, confused. “Saying no to what?”

“To the mission. I was already assigned to that conference in Washington. Sam had his V.A. thing. Rhodey is always running missions for D.C. Wanda and Vision were going on their vacation. Clint finally went home. Tony said he asked if you’d go with him and you said you couldn’t. Too busy with Betsy, huh?” Nat wiggles her eyebrows, but Steve is too busy reeling from this flat out lie that he doesn’t respond to the Betsy comment.

“He asked me to go with him?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Sam nods. “And if you’d gone, maybe Tony wouldn’t be in such a bad mood. I don’t know why we’re still sending Y/N out on missions when she can’t keep her head on straight long enough to consider everyone else in the room. I had to ask her to be nicer to Betsy after that one dinner, remember? That night you brought her?”

“What?” Steve remembers you throwing a small fit. Betsy’s confusion from it but it had blown over so quickly that he hadn’t spared it another thought. “What did you tell her?”

“I just told her that she wasn’t being very nice and if she wasn’t going to try that maybe she should stay in her room until she felt like being nicer.” Sam shrugs but then steps back as Steve stands suddenly, glaring at him with an anger that Sam has only ever seen trained at misbehaved recruits.

“Have you or have you not seen Tony and Y/N together?”

“Steve, what are you getting at?” Nat asks, a little exasperated with him. Steve can see the annoyance in her face.

“Tony…Y/N…they’re seeing each other, aren’t they?” He asks.

“What?” Nat shakes her head, utterly confused by his words. “It’s only been two months since Tony and Pepper split.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “I mean, if he was seeing her, talk about a downgrade.”

Steve slams his hand down on the table. It groans and shifts from the strength of his hit but the fire in his chest is scorching.

“What the hell is your problem with her, Sam?” Steve demands, rage building at the clear dislike Sam has for you.

Would he still be treating you like this if he knew how Steve feels about you? Steve wonders.

“I don’t necessarily have a problem with her. I just—if you ask me, she needs more training. She’s not ready to be on the team.” He assesses.

“So instead of offering to train her you decide to spit insults at her behind her back?” Why does this happen to you? Steve doesn’t understand it. What is it about you that sets people on edge?

“It’s not that I’m…listen, I don’t dislike the girl. She and I just don’t flow on the same wavelength. I think I’d get frustrated trying to train her.” Sam admits, sending another wave of anger through Steve making his vision flash red.

“That isn’t teamwork, Sam. And you should know better.” Steve chastises him then grabs the reports and walks off before either of them can say anything more to stop him.

As he makes his way to his room, he realizes that your happily ever after with Tony might just run into a few snags because Tony, like he had done, seems to be hiding you from the rest of the team too and this discovery fills Steve with a wicked amount of apprehension and fury.

Steve sticks around. He lingers in the common spaces and as sneakily as possible, he looks for you.

He waits for you and Tony to come out together because he does follow you to Tony’s den and you spend days locked up in there with him.

Yes. You and Tony are together…at least within the confines of Tony’s den.

In the two weeks since Steve has started his search for proof of you and Tony’s relationship, only twice has he seen you and Tony together among the others.

Once, at another of Tony’s usual galas, he takes you to the dance floor and he twirls you around the floor teal illuminated floor.

You look beautiful in a stunning red satin gown. It clings to your form in all the right places and if Steve didn’t have Betsy on his arm, he might have given in to his urge to ask you to dance too but out of respect for you and Tony, he doesn’t.

He watches you light up in Tony’s arms, ecstatic to be his girl but as soon as the song ends, Tony drops you off at the bar and takes Nat out to dance. Then Wanda. Then Maria.

Steve watches you sit at the bar and stare as Tony takes out several more women out to dance before drifting off to mingle amongst his guests.

He doesn’t find you again that night and you get steadily more and more drunk.

Betsy wants to leave so Steve walks her out and gets her into one of Tony’s chauffeured cars, kisses her cheek, then hurries back up to the dance floor.

He doesn’t see you at first but as he casually moves through the party goers, sliding along the limestone floor, and banquet tables, he scans every corner of the room.

As he passes the bar, he sees your glass sitting just where you’d been, glass nearly full of what would have been your fifth whiskey of the night.

With his hands shoved into his pockets, he follows the route you would have most likely taken and considers the bathroom.

Purpose driven steps pull him towards that small hallway where the bathrooms wait. He holds his arm up on the doorway as two giggling socialites gawk at him in his formal wear, then he slides the door shut behind him as he moves towards the women’s bathroom.

He stops before the door, hesitating.

Shit. He should have grabbed one of those girls to check for you in there since he can’t go.

He raises his hand, lifting it to knock on the heavy wooden door but stops when he hears a familiar whimper.

He turns to his left, moving down past the men’s bathroom towards a closet at the end of the hall. The door isn’t shut all the way and he peeks in and wishes he hadn’t.

Your pretty dress is pulled up, gathered around your waist, laying on what must be Tony’s tuxedo jacket.

He’s kissing your neck, sucking on the skin that Steve remembers tasting himself. Sweet sugar and dewy honey. Tony’s movements are quick and rough, a frantic pulsing of thrusts as he yanks down the top of your dress and your breasts spill out to bounce with the urgency of his need.

Steve’s shock robs him of words for thoughts and speaking. He reaches to shut the door, but he seems to be catching the show just as it’s over.

You give that familiar tremble and your body clings to Tony as you’re awash in ecstasy. Tony clutches you close, thrusting into you a few more times before he buries himself deep and hits his peak too.

Your arms fall over your head and the thought pops into his head before he can stop it.

Too rough. Steve hates to see your body used because to him, that’ what it looks like.

There’s no love in what he just saw. Only lust. He very nearly decides that what Tony can give you is nothing more than pain and the very next morning he’ll convince you of it and hope that you come away with him…then Tony nuzzles his nose into your cheek, into your hair, kissing you softly with fluttering pecks.

Steve stares because yes, what he just saw was nothing but lust but there in the vestiges of whatever Tony had just done to you, is the love.

He knows it because he’s felt it. He gave you those same caresses, those same kisses.

Tony finds your lips and kisses you slow and genuine, his eyes boring into yours though your eyes are hazy with whiskey, telling you without words how much he loves you.

Steve shuts the door, silently, and heads back into the ballroom, staring up at the stained-glass ceiling for what feels like a long time as he considers both sides of this argument.

Tony is clearly keeping you to himself. Truly to himself. All night he’s ignored you, refusing to show anyone what you really mean to him. Why?

Is he ashamed? He has no reason to be. You’re…a little reckless at times, quick to anger, but you’re passionate and playful. You love with your whole heart and the damages of your youth are not are a struggle but one that Tony should be willing to carry.

If he loves you, he must have comforted you in the night when you wake up from those nightmares, right? He must have held you and kissed you and assured you that you were good and just right the way you are, right?

The door behind him opens and Tony emerges, tuxedo jacket back on but wrinkled. He looks around, smoothing his hair before spotting someone at the other end of the room. His head tilts to the right and he hurries across the dance floor.

Steve waits for you to follow but after five minutes, when you don’t, he sighs and ducks back into the hallway. He checks the closet again, hoping that you’re in the bathroom instead but he finds you there, sitting against the wall with your head resting against the cool stone. You’re decent at least, so there’s that.

Your head swivels in his direction and after a moment your eyes shine with recognition.

“Steve!” You gasp, smiling, stupidly happy to see him. “Hi!”

“Hey, doll face. Come on. Let’s get you home.” Steve moves over to you and you reach up to wrap your arm around his neck instinctively.

You smell like a liquor store and Steve finds that the rage in his belly just won’t quit. He feels sick to his stomach. Angry enough to punch someone.

He lifts you, holding you close as he kicks the closet door open and then heads for the ballroom.

“He just left you in there?” He asks, not really even sure if you’re listening.

“Tony said he’d be right back for me.” You argue, drunk but not as drunk as he might think maybe.

“Well, it’s been almost ten minutes.” Steve argues back.

You groan, an angry grimace thrown his way, but you’re already dozing on his shoulder and he doesn’t want to wake you.

It takes skill to get you snuck through the ballroom without the team seeing you. He doesn’t want Sam judging you or Nat frowning at you disapprovingly. Wanda would probably offer to help but then chastise you gently even through your sleep.

And for some reason, Steve wants to see the panic in Tony’s eyes when he doesn’t find you shut away in that closet.

Used and discarded. He thinks, though he knows he’s being unfair.

He was no better, keeping you to himself, shut up in your room.

His heart aches with guilt at the thought. He should have shoved you in all of their faces.

Steve has nearly made it to the front doors, having avoided most of the notable guests when he hears Tony’s voice, strained and stressed.

He’s hidden in an alcove in the large foyer. Steve hurries forward, eager to get out of the building before he’s seen when a second voice reaches his ears.

“This is the problem. This right here, Tony. You talk about commitment and the future like you’re ready but you’re not. You keep playing these games and I can’t wait around for you to be ready to grow up.”

“Pepper-Pep-Pepper, wait. Alright? Wait. Look, I’m working on it. I’m…I know I’m a mess.” Tony says.

“You’ve said all of this to me before, Tony. And you’re right. You’re all over the damn place. How do you expect me to start a life with someone who can’t even remember to pay his taxes? Or be there when he says he’ll be there. I waited for six hours. Six! You didn’t call. You didn’t even try and get word to me that you were caught up doing all these crazy things that you do, and it’s not like you were saving the world, Tony. I know you weren’t. You were stuck in your lab, fiddling with your toys, oblivious to the world around you. What are you going to do if we have kids? I need an adult-” Pepper pleads.

Tony tries to cut her off, “Pepper-”

But she speaks over him, shutting him up. “-someone who is willing to deal with his problems and not run from them. Someone who can put me first. Put our life first before all the bullshit this job of yours asks for. If you want this to work, you need to get your shit together, Tony. I can’t wait forever, and I’m very nearly done waiting.”

She’s near tears, and Steve can hear that. As he pushes through the door, he can hear Tony calling after her. Chasing her. With you, forgotten in a closet.

Steve waits for two hours, leaning against the wall outside your door.

He hadn’t undressed you. He hadn’t cleaned you up. He’d put you to bed, aspirin and water left for you to drink, then planted himself outside to wait.

Every minute that passed felt like an age. How long would you have been waiting in that closet if he hadn’t gone back in to look for you? How would you have felt when you came to and realized that Tony had forgotten you in there?

His newly acquired knowledge, the fact that Tony is still pleading with Pepper to take him back, makes the entire night so much worse. You don’t know what’s happening. To you, this isn’t as bad as it really is.

He hears him before he sees him. Fast, agitated footsteps on the cold dark concrete of the hallway, approaching from the stairs.

Steve doesn’t let himself look up. He keeps his eyes trained on the spot before him, right where the wall meets the floor. He chews on his tongue, urging himself into a calm.

The feet stop, and the musk of Tony’s cologne wafts towards him, churning his stomach.

Tony has always been a friend. A comrade. Someone that Steve can rely on. Although they may not have hit it off right away, over time, they grew close.

Now, Steve is fighting every fiber of his being to keep from breaking Tony’s nose.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asks, the jealous spike in his voice too much for Steve.

He scoffs, standing up straight but tightening the cross of his arms over his chest.

“I don’t think she was ever going to let you go without giving it a real good try first. It’s who she is. She wants something, she’ll get it. And she may be naïve but she’s not stupid, Tony.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing with her or if it’s some type of deal that you two have struck like she and I had but I do know that she loves you.”

“What’s your point, Rogers?” Tony asks, chest puffing out in his irritation.

Steve walks close, stopping when he’s standing right beside Tony to look down at his offended expression.

“My point is you should really be careful where you and Pepper have your lovers’ spats. If Y/N hadn’t been passed out drunk when I carried her out, she would have heard enough to know that you want Pepper back.” Steve lets that sink in, waiting for Tony to speak but he only looks away, towards your door.

“I wish I could ask you not to break her heart, but I think that’s inevitable now. If you’re not going to choose her…end it now. Before she can plan a future that she’ll never have. It’ll only hurt more when you rip it away from her.”

The second time Steve sees you and Tony not holed up in his den, is at a team dinner. Nothing special happens. No big reveals and no upsets. The only upset lies with Steve because he has to watch Tony push you away.

“Where’s Betsy, Steve?” Sam asks, smiling from ear to ear as he settles his elbows onto the table.

“We’re taking a break. She’s working on a big project for Fury and she doesn’t think she can give me the time I deserve.” He says, easy.

It isn’t a lie. Betsy is indeed busy with a plan for Fury, but the break is more from her loss of interest. Steve doesn’t blame her. Since the night of the gala, he’s been distracted. Less attentive.

He’s been watching Tony like a hawk and he’s seen him more than a handful of times in the weeks since the gala meet up with Pepper. Whether it’s to talk about business or their person lives, he doesn’t know.

What he does know is that you’re still very much a secret and Steve is starting to realize that it’s more for Pepper’s benefit than yours.

“How’s Pepper, Tony? Haven’t seen her around lately.” Steve asks, throwing the name out deliberately to get a reaction.

He hates that the name makes your eyes flood with confusion. You look up at him, full of wonder and anger because of course you’re going to hate him for bringing up Tony’s ex, but he has to make you see or make Tony confess.

Tony’s face is stoic, though his eyes betray a shift of anger. “She’s fine. We met up for breakfast two days ago.”

“You did?” You blurt out, suddenly nervous, eyes trained on Tony.

“Yeah.” Tony tells you, but he doesn’t look at you.

“That’s so great, Tony.” Wanda offers. “Any progress? We’re all rooting for you two.”

Steve watches you, frowning as your eyes pool as you stare at center of the table, hands tightly fisting the soft fabric of your skirt. No one else has noticed but the dishes on the table have begun to hover. No more than a few centimeters but enough that if one is paying attention, they’d see it.

“No. Nothing like that. It was for the company. She had some questions about some old projects I had started when I was still CEO.” He tells her, and though everyone else forgets the topic, you clearly don’t.

“Oh, I’ve got an update for you on Abu Bakaar, Tony.” Nat says, sliding out of her seat to grab the clicker for the large display at the end of the table.

Vision slides over and Steve can’t tear his eyes off of you as you sit there, rigid, to Tony’s left.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. the lights?” Nat asks, and the lights dim.

While Nat brings the monitor down and everyone at the table shifts to look over at what she’s doing, Tony finally looks at you and reaches out for your hand but you yank it away, sliding away from him hard, twisting your body around to look up at the monitor.

Steve can see that you want to cry and the tick in his jaw snaps audibly as he shifts his eyes to Tony and finds him watching him right back.

“We picked up his trail in Malaysia.” Nat clicks her remote and pulls up several photos of the weathered man outside a high scale bar. “Not really doing much. Trying to lay low probably but he’s out of practice.”

She clicks her remote and a new set of pictures crop up.

“He moved north into Cambodia, then Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, into China,” With each new place, new pictures are pulled up of him in cars, buses, sitting by bodies of water and large ornate buildings. “And our last scout puts him in Nepal. He’s hiding out in some village on the Himalayas. Beautiful but not luxurious. He’s taking the hiding more seriously now. I was thinking we could go in, all of us.”

Steve is focused on the mission, listening carefully to the description of Bakaar’s route for a pattern as to why he’d go so far north then divert back to the south west.

“Y/N…” With your name called, Steve’s attention is brought back to you and he finds you sitting up straight, staring at the screen with a frown. You turn to Nat. “…I know you faced this guy before but if he saw you, do you think he’d recognize you?”

Steve already doesn’t like where this is going.

“No. Not if I wear the right clothes.”

“What are you thinking?” Tony asks Nat, wary eyes flashed your way at the foolhardy spark in your own.

“He knows us, Tony. All of us. The whole world does. I can blend in and Steve is good at being quick but if we want to get this guy, we’re going to have to get close.” She looks at you and smiles. “Can you do it? He won’t know we have you. What you can do? It’s perfect.”

Steve hates the smile on Nat’s face. The want to throw you into the thick of what might very well be an ambush?

“No.” He says, stern, decided.

“What?” Nat asks, turning to him.

“Yes. I’ll do it.” You tell Nat.

“No.” Steve says, turning to face you.

He can see the defiant upturn in your face, the clear anger in your eyes. You’re jumping at the chance of danger after all that Pepper talk from before.

“It’s too dangerous.” He tells you.

“I don’t care. I’ll be good in there. I can do it.” You glare at him.

“I said no, Y/N. You’re not thinking straight.” He accuses.

You shoot to your feet, the dishes that had still been hovering falling at the same time as your focus is diverted.

“I don’t care what you say, I’m doing it whether you want me to or not.”

“It’s a trap.” Steve explains, getting louder. His chest aches with fear at the thought of you sliding into the village, getting yourself close enough for them to trap or worse, kill. “Those pictures, the path they’re taking, Bakaar wants to be found. You’re not going.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” You shout at him, hands fisted, lip shaking with rage.

“The hell I can’t! I’m Captain of this damn team and you will do what I say. We are not using you like some tool to sneak in. You’re not some hidden weapon for us to thrust out when we want to use you and put you away when we don’t.” Steve’s aware of the argument he’s making.

He knows that to you and to Tony, this will all mean so much more than just the mission, but he can’t help it. The thought of you exposed like that terrifies him and he is not going to let you do it.

You scoff, tears pooling in your eyes again as his argument hits the sore spot he was aiming for. When you speak, the hurt he just caused you cuts him as your voice drops back down to a low and calm cadence.

“You of all people should know Steve that I’m everyone’s dirty little secret.” You turn to Nat as Steve swallows hard and he watches as you make up your mind. “I’ll do it.”

Nat seems to understand that something more is going on here, and though she might not know exactly what, she knows that it’s serious.

As you move around Tony, yanking your hand away from him as he tries to catch you on your way around him, Nat finds Steve’s eyes and silently asks him what the hell she’s missing.

“How long have you been meeting with her, Tony?” You’re almost afraid to hear the answer.

Your gut screams at you, has been screaming at you, that things are not as perfect as you wish they were.

You’ve known for a while that Tony has been keeping you hidden, refusing to let anyone see that you’re his and that he’s yours…thought, maybe that’s because he never was?

“Since the beginning.” He says.

You stop your pacing and look over at him, sitting on the top step of the stairs that lead down into his lab. Wringing his hands, muscular arms straining with the tension of what this conversation means for both of you.

“Since the beginning.” You repeat and resume your pacing. “How long were you going to string me along?”

“That’s not what I was-”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Tony!” You scream, broken by his denial because it’s so far from the truth. How dare he even attempt to deny it. “You’ve been meeting with her since the beginning and what? You were going to introduce us and hope for the best? Maybe get a little ménage à trois?”

“No!” He insists, getting a little loud too. “Would you just-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” You don’t mean to do it, but your temper gets the better of you and the cup of coffee you’d been drinking in the morning, happily sipping as Tony kissed your head, flies towards him.

You reach your hand out, stopping it before it hits him, and it falls to the ground and shatters.

“Fuck.” You sigh, moving to sit in his rolling chair to try and calm yourself.

You look at him and he’s staring at the floor, face screwed up with guilt and hurt.

You sob, allowing your emotions to bubble but focus on the ones that aren’t violent. It’s so difficult for you to control your ability. Even after so many years. You know you’ve neglected it, pushed it down because it’s what took your whole world and turned it into a nightmare.

You’ve never gained anything good from your power and you wish you could just shove it deep into a box and bury it with your parents.

“I can’t find any good reason for you to have done this to us, Tony. Why? Why would you make me feel this way if you wanted her back?”

“I wanted you.” He says, “I’ve wanted you for so long. I-I do love you, Y/N.”

“But not enough?”

“It’s not that.” He says.

You get up and move to him, dropping down to your knees before him, resting your hands on his. “Then choose me.”

For a fleeting moment, your mind is plagued by Steve’s own voice, begging you for the exact same thing you’re begging of Tony and you feel the weight of his grief double your own.

Did Steve love you then? Really love you?

“I can’t.” Tony sighs, reaching up to cup the sides of your face. “You and me won’t work, kid.”

You cry, face crumbling at his touch. It puckers and floods. You look down at his lap, hating the truth of his words. You already knew that he wasn’t going to choose you.

“But why?” You ask him, reaching up to cling to his hands.

“I’m not…I can barely take care of myself.” He confesses. “You and me, we’re both broken, and I can’t be there for you the way you need me. I wish I could give you what you want. What you deserve but I-”

You pull his hands away from your face, sobbing loudly, hating him for this but also wishing he’d crush you to his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, reaching for you and pulling you close so that he can kiss the side of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” You gasp at him, pulling away from him to walk around him and move up the stairs. “I hate you.”

But you don’t. And that’s what kills you.

You pass Wanda and Vision on your way up the stairs to the common room and they stop at the sight of you falling to pieces. A mess of tears and snot.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Vision asks.

“Of course, she’s not.” Wanda chastises him.

“I’m sorry. I only meant it as an offer of assistance.” Vision explains.

You leave them behind, as you reach the common room landing. The meeting very much over but workaholics Nat and Steve still huddled in front of the display looking at the same photos over and over again to see if maybe this mission might really be a trap.

Steve looks up first and when he spots you, he straightens up, moving around the table and down the steps to stand a few feet from you as you continue to break.

Nat gasps quietly, suddenly worried about the state that you’re in and that argument from the meeting clearly playing itself over again in her head.

“Y/N?” She probes carefully, moving down the steps but stopping there because your eyes are on Steve and Steve’s eyes are on you.

He watches you, staring with a regretful but smug fix of his brow. Dark, storm blue eyes knowing.

“How long have you known?” You ask him, somehow finding the strength to speak.

“Since the gala.” He admits and you nod, understanding now that Tony had really forgotten you in that supply closet.

You’d thought it was a dream. A hazy nightmare where the man who claimed to love you avoided you the entire night, then dragged you into a closet to fuck you and then forgot about you.

As you meet Steve’s eyes, you succumb to the truth that this is not a nightmare. It’s only your life.

A life where you give up the love you deserve for the love you desire and have now lost them both.

“Steve…” You plead, moving closer to him by a single step. Does he know how sorry you are?

Steve takes a breath. His wide shoulders rise and fall with the weight of his sigh, expelling his own heartbreak as he opens his mouth to speak.

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The Token: A Guns N’ Roses FANFICTION

Chapter 8: The Wrath of Betsie Tate

Masterlist

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. In a desperate attempt to make it big doing what she does, she cuts her hair and mascardes as Duff. What’s the wors that could happen?

Chapter Summary: Betsie pays Michelle a vist at work.

Taglist @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots @achiweyow

My mind had created two lists of almost equal importance.

The first list contained the following names:

Walter

Macy

Betsie

Derek

Kendal

Izzy

Six people, only six people knew that Duff was actually Michelle the former bassist of Pixie. It could be worse since I had been doing this for a little over a month now, but it could also be a hell of a lot better. I was careful to never get too tipsy. I made sure to watch what I said and even how I sat, but there is still a sinking feeling that resides in the bottom of my stomach. The feeling that one day everyone would find out, and everything I’ve worked for would be gone.

No more Duff.

No more Guns N’ Roses.

No more music.

Maybe if this didn’t work out I could move to New York and become a secretary or some boring shit ass job like that. I wasn’t sure what I was more afraid of, losing Guns N’ Roses or giving up on my dream. Bottom line, both of them terrified me.

The second list was much shorter. It only had two names on it, Macy and Izzy. This list, which barely even qualified as a list by the fact that there were only two names on it, was the list of people I trusted with my secret.

Walter had been rather blunt with his disliking of me performing as Duff. I quickly learned that the entire intervention was all Walter’s idea from Macy this morning when she profusely apologized. She swore up and down that he forced her to help him. I wasn’t sure what to believe, but I trusted her none the less. I really didn’t have any other options. A list of one name was defiantly not a list.

Ever since Betsie stood by as Pixie kicked me out and dragged my name through the dirt, I don’t trust her. I used to though. I used to trust her with my life, but now I couldn’t trust her to poor me a glass of vodka. Her comments on how I’m betraying females everywhere also don’t help the unpleasant taste in my mouth.

Derek is and forever will be a wildcard, and he is probably mad that I didn’t tell him.

Kendal. Kendal. Kendal. Kendal was the reason I showed up to work this morning two hours early. I was hoping, no praying, that I could talk to her and try to explain myself. It was the least she deserved after yesterday.

I felt the nerves multiply in my stomach the second I opened the shop early. I tried to distract myself by singing along with the songs that came over the radio that echoed through the coffee shop, but as I prepped the shop my mind still focused on one thing...Kendal.

Last night, I chased after her the moment the gig had ended. I knew where to find her, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind to where she was. The coffee shop on Minlter Street, the shop I worked at, the shop where she spent her child hood, the shop she would one day inherit. I shoved my keys into the door and unlocked it full force. Instead of a Kendal sitting at her favorite table sipping on her cup of favorite coffee, I was met with nothing. I fought back tears as I stood in the middle of the hauntingly quiet coffee shop. Fuck.

I could already feel it unraveling.

I watched as the clock struck 6 AM and I flipped the small sign to open. I eyed the door all morning waiting for her to walk in as I worked. Bottom line, we needed to talk. 10 minutes turned into 5 hours later as I watched the clock strike 11 AM. Where the hell was Kendal? Usually she would get to the coffee shop by 9 AM at the latest when she was in town, but today was obviously not one of those days. I peeled up as I heard the bells that hung on the door chime. A customer, or hopefully Kendal had just walked in.

To my surprise Izzy walked in holding a small stack of papers in his hands. It was clear that he had just woken up from his hair that stuck out almost every which way from under his hat. The hat he must have tied to use to control that chaos that was growing on his head.

“For someone who lives on the other side of town, you seem to frequent this coffee shop a lot. Must be it’s great customer service,” I said as he walked up to my counter. I could feel the stares that were directed towards us from some of the customers. I tried to ignore them, but I could feel them judging.

“Nah, I come here because I look forward to getting glared at by it’s older clientele,” he teased back. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“How are you doing?” His question caught me off guard. It sounded genuine. He sounded like he actually cared.

“I’m still employed, so I got that going for me,” I let a sigh escape me as I hunched over, defeated.

“Bye Michelle, thank you for the stories!” I turned and sent a smile towards Suzy who was a mother of the cutest twins I have ever met. She would come every Wednesday morning during the summer for peace and quiet, and if it was slow like this morning, I would read her kids a story.

“Oh Michelle, he’s hot! Is he your boyfriend?” I turned red at the Suzy’s daughter’s question. I didn’t dare look over towards Izzy who was most likely enjoying the situation as he did in most situations where I squirmed.

I felt my cheeks get hot as I tried to find words, “No...he is just a friend...who is a boy.”

Suzy took my nerves as a cue to quickly escort her daughters out of the coffee shop.

“Friend who is boy?” I let a groan escape me as Izzy smirked leaning over the counter.

“I thought we were AT LEAST band mates,” he added.

The bell rang again as another customer walked in. My heart sunk when I noticed once again that it wasn’t Kendal.

“Shut it Stradlin, I gotta go help a customer,” I then went back to the front counter to take the woman’s order.

Luckily the customer only wanted a black coffee, so I was able to quickly make it for him. Not that I wanted to go and talk to Izzy or anything, but because I wanted to see what papers he was holding.

“So, what brings you to my coffee shop?”

“Your coffee shop? Didn’t know you owned the place...” Izzy replied as he began to fake ponder and look around the shop.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, and snatch one of the papers he was holding.

“Guns N’ Roses Live at the Troubadour. Get yourself together, drink till you drop, forget about tomorrow, and have another shot,” I froze for a second when I noticed the date and time.

“Izzy this is an add for Saturday night.”

“Yeah, and we need fliers out now,” he added as he dramatically held the small stack he had in his hand. I would have giggled at him being unintentionally cute, but I was more focused on the fact that we were stealing Pixie’s weekly gig.

“Pixie plays Saturday nights at 8 at the Troubadour. They have been for the past six months,” I simply received a shrug from Izzy.

“Did they get a better gig, or are we taking their spot,” I groaned as I received another shrug.

“All I know is that Axl has been wanting to play at the Troubadour, and stopped by there this morning to have a talk with someone. The next thing I know he came bursting in and asking me to make fliers,” I nodded as he spoke.

“Hope you don’t mind the photos I chose for you. We need someone to take a group shot of us, so we at-least look a little more professional,” I immediate shook my head when Izzy finished talking. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Guns N’ Roses being professional.

“No, I look pretty bad ass, good choice,” I sent him a warm smile as I looked over the flier.

“Can I hang one up on your billboard over there?” I nodded a motioning for him to go right ahead. He handed me some extras, I’m assuming in hope that people would take the flier for the $3 admission discount.

I watched as Izzy went to go hang up a flier, and tried to ignore the girls who were curiously eyeing him.

“Good show last night,” I turned to see Derek who was currently restocking the remaining pastries. I tried to read him, but his face remained stoic with each cherry pastry he stacked.

“Thanks, I really appreciate your help. Even though it didn’t go as planned,” I replied. My heart slowly sunk as Derek didn’t look over towards me.

“Hey, Derek....” he turned around as I spoke finally giving me his full attention. Thank god he actually looked at me.

“I mean it. Thank you so much, here,” I handed him a flier, but before he could read it I began to talk again.

“We’re playing again Saturday night. It’s a prime time show and it’s going to be insane. You and a plus one will get in for free,” I sent him a warm smile as he began to read the flier.

“Okay, cool. Thanks! I’ll ask Mica tonight,” he sent a warm smile my way causing me to relax.

“The Troubadour is a cool place and I can’t wait to see y’all there,” I smiled back.

THANK GOD. THANK FUCKING GOD HE DIDN’T HATE ME.

Before I walked away I felt him pull my arm back, “I meant it. You guys are really good. Plus...I will admit I was pissed you didn’t tell me at first, but I don’t know that last time I saw you actually enjoying yourself onstage. You seemed free, and you were right. If I was you I would do whatever takes to make my dream come true. Let me know when you release your first album! I’ll be first in line.”

I sent him a nod before I went back to work cleaning down dirty tables. I quickly shooed Izzy out of the coffee shop, much to the displease of the girls he was talking to, in hopes that Kendal would be more forgiving if Izzy wasn’t here.

Two more hours had passed, and I eventually gave up on Kendal showing up. The place was rather busy for a Thursday morning, and I already had to replace the flier twice.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I saw a familiar blonde throw on her apron and hat before joining us behind the counter.

“Hey Patty, what are you doing in early?”

“I honestly don’t know, I got a call from Kendal to come in a couple hours early,” she then shrugged before she went to inspect our coffee machines. Panic filled me as I remained frozen. Patty either worked the shift opposite of me or late nights, not while I was working during lunch.

Fuck.

I turned towards Derek who shared the same expression as me.

“Hey Michelle can you come into the office real fast,” I tried to keep my breath easy as I followed my uncle to his office. When the hell did he get here, I was watching the door all day? Unless he came in when I was talking with Izzy.

His office was small, but it didn’t need to be large. That’s not who my uncle was. My uncle never needed to have some sort of reminder to everyone he was in charge like a large desk or office. We always joked that the only reason he had the office was to keep him from eating all of the pastries. All he had to do was walk onto the shop floor and customers and workers alike would smile at him. He was never a dictator and it wasn’t uncommon to see him helping with the dishes when a large rush came in. Calling in an employee to come in early was rather unusual.

The moment I walked into his office I felt the uneasiness that resided in my stomach grow larger than the Grinch’s heart.

“Michelle, please sit,” I offered my uncle a kind smile before I sat down.

I turned to give one to Kendal as well who was lurking in the corner, but she refused to make eye contact with me. I didn’t need to be psychic or a mind reader to know what this meeting was about. The scowl that was planted on my cousin’s face was enough to know.

“So this meeting is nothing to serious, I just want to ask you a couple questions,” my uncle calmly stated. I sent him a soft smile before nodding.

Nothing serious? SERIOUSLY? With Kendal glaring me in the corner I felt like I was on trial.

“Well, how are you today Michelle?”

“I’m good, never better,” I cautiously replied. Every word I spoke felt like taking a footstep through a minefield.

“Recently we have received some customer complaints about you,” I nodded my head trying to figure out which customer her was talking about. Over the past two weeks I haven’t really had any ‘incidents’. Six months ago I had a poor encounter with a customer, but that was SIX MONTHS AGO.

“What were they about?”

“The clientele that you let into this coffee shop,” I froze and stared right at Kendal when the words left my Uncle’s mouth. That fucking bitch tattled on me. I thought we were practically sisters. I thought she would confront me about it in private. I thought wrong.

“Uncle, we let everyone in,” he cut me off before I could continue.

“We let everyone who pays in,” his sharp words cut right through me.

“Izzy’s and Axl’s coffees are ALWAYS paid for,” I quickly shot back. One quick look at my Uncle’s face told me that I said the wrong thing. I shouldn’t have let those words out of my mouth.

“By who?” And so the demon speaks. I shot Kendal a glare at her stupid question. I was relieved to see that she wasn’t receiving a glare from just me. My uncle, her father, was also sending one towards her.

“Me or them depends on the day. I made them coffee for a long practice, and the other day Izzy bought some,” I tried to keep my voice calm as I spoke. It was clear that my Uncle wasn’t entirely pleased with Kendal at the moment.

“So you bought your boyfriends coffee,” before my uncle could continue talking I immediately interrupted him, “band mates. Not boyfriends.”

I watched as a flash of realization crossed his face. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a smirk flash across Kendal’s features. FUCK. I slipped up.

“You’re still trying to be in a band? I thought you quit that dream last year,” I shook my head no at his question.

“No, I just stopped telling you about my bands, and you assumed that I stopped playing I never lied to you,” my uncle sighed at my response before pinching the bridge of his nose with his two fingers. Saying that I never lied to him probably wasn’t the best defense.

“Does this band affect your ability to perform your job,” my uncle eventually broke the uncomfortable silence that had grown in the room. Kendal and I immediately answered the question with two drastically different answers, yes and no.

Our lovely meeting was quickly interrupted by shouting before we could continue. I followed my Uncle and cousin, and immediately regretted it.

“What the fuck Michelle,” I didn’t need to see her to know who was screaming. I remained frozen, I didn’t even need to guess what she was screaming about. It was clear that Betsie was pissed that Guns N’ Roses stole Pixie’s time slot.

“WHOAH Whoah woah, calm down,” Derek immediately hopped over the counter in attempt to block Betsie from coming after me.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN? That two timing traitor bitch stole my band’s gig,” she shouted back.

“You don’t own a gig!” I casually replied, not really thinking my actions through. My uncle placed his arm in front of me gently guiding me behind him.

It was clear that today was only going to get worse.

She only got angrier from there, “you listen here you two timing whore of a bitch, and don’t you dare try to hide behind your uncle. You think that just because Axl promised strippers on stage that you can take MY GIG. Is that all you think I am? Nothing more than a fucking stripper?”

By now the entire coffee shop was watching us.

“What is going on?” My uncle bellowed through the shop.

“Your barista or whatever the fucking hell you call her is a damn traitor who dresses up as a guy and plays in a rock n’ roll band on the strip” she shouted at my uncle.

He then quickly turned towards me, as if I had a logical straight forward answer. Getting fired was now the least of my worries.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

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