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minkkumaz · 1 year

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I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE, TEACH ME?

the basic idea of romeo and juliet's balcony scene is the feeling of loving someone you aren't supposed to love. so why is idol kim seungmin knocking on your second - story window? why does he keep coming to you even though he knows it's forbidden?

PAIRING kim seungmin x fem!reader WC 1.7k TAGS forbidden love trope. friends to lovers. fluff. angst if you squint. intense kissing. cussing. OMI NOTE my first work here <3 i really enjoyed writing this but it's definitely not proofread aha.

the tragedy of romeo and juliet, a play written by william shakespeare. there’s a famous scene within the sonnet, where juliet sits atop the balcony that connects to her bedroom; where ultimately she ponders as to why must her one true love, romeo, be apart of her rival family. they’re forbidden to be together, yet their love for one another is so immense.

it was almost as if you were living some parts of the story when you found out kim seungmin was a well - known idol. you felt like the two of you were destined to be together, like it was written in the stars. but it wasn’t going to work out, you knew that.

you heard him calling behind you that night he got recognized by two girls. you were internally grateful that they didn’t even notice you because of how blinded they were by him. the pavement was damp with nightly mist, and the sound of your heavy footsteps ultimately drowning out his voice.

as soon as you arrived home, you kicked off your shoes at the door and ignored your parents’ questions such as, “where have you been, y/n? your curfew ended ten minutes ago.”

you never entered your bedroom with such a heavy heart. pulling out your laptop and violently typing up the name kim seungmin, only to be met with millions of search results.

kinfo.com: kim seungmin is one of the eight members of south korean boy group stray kids, under the company jyp, leader in entertainment.

straykidsupdates.com: has everyone seen seungmin in the most recent comeback? he’s totally cute and definitely carried that s-class pre chorus! instagram.com/realstraykids: stray kids (스트레이 키즈) official instagram

you closed your laptop before falling back into the pillows on your bed and letting out a heavy sigh. heartbroken was an understatement, you were so upset. if he had told you earlier you wouldn’t have let yourself fall in love with him.

the day you met seungmin was a run in at a small cafe you were wanting to try out (which now made so much more sense considering it was across the street from the jyp building). he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking, causing him to bump into you and make you drop your food. you were not looking for any payment whatsoever, but he was insistent.

before you knew it, he was paying for your food and sitting down in front of you to make small talk and apologize.

the conversation you had with him went on until the sun barely peaked over the horizon. it was starting to get dark outside and the cafe cashier was getting very sick of the two of you. with full stomachs and happy grins, he walked you home.

afterwards, you met almost every week for months just to talk and hang out. you grew to love the person he was, and the feeling was most definitely mutual. despite this, he never bothered to share his work life and you never bothered to look him up on google.

now, you sat extremely frustrated and crying. your pillows grew a wet patch from your tears. how could you forget him? the blankets you snuggled with did an adequate job at comforting you, though you knew seungmin was the best at that.

barely an hour passed before there was a quiet knock at your window. at first you thought it was the wind, but your suspicions were proved wrong when it knocked a little harder and less infrequent.

you got up from you bed and trudged to open your curtains, being met with a very familiar, puppy - dog - like boy. your eyes went wide.

“what the fuck? seungmin what are you doing at my window?” you whisper shout, feeling the cool air blow through your bedroom as you opened the window.

“you weren’t answering your phone, and you never let me explain.” seungmin panted a little, lodging himself between two thick tree branches.

“it’s unsafe to be climbing this tree! it’s been here longer than i’ve been alive. what happened to the front door?” you pulled him into your bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“we both know you’ve broken curfew three times this past week, your parents would never let me inside to talk to you.” he sighed, sitting on your windowsill.

“jeez, seungmin. you’re such an idiot…” you mumble with defeat.

“listen, i’m so sorry i haven’t told you about being a whole idol thing. i was going to, trust me, i just never got around to it.” “way to go for an explanation. you know we can’t do this min.” “why do you think i never told you? so i could lose the one person that actually liked me for the person i am, rather than the things i could provide?” he admit.

“i don’t think i can mentally date a kpop idol, seungmin. i really really like you but, theres so many complications.” you turn your back to him so he can’t get too close of a look at your puffy face.

suddenly his hand interlocked with yours, pulling you back a little.

“y/n, come out with me. let me show you that we can work. that this is worth it.”

you couldn’t bring yourself to fully look at him, scared that his cute pouty face would convince you. “i can’t sneak out seungmin… my parents would kill me.” “then let them kill you, don’t give up on us, please. just this one night for me to show you how dear you are to me.” he lifts your chin up with his hand, frowning at the tear marks on your face.

“but i’ve never done this before, will you teach me?” you sniff sadly.

“i won’t let you get caught. just follow my lead okay?” seungmin let go of your face and went to stuff pillows under your blankets, making a somewhat believable body. whilst doing so, you slipped on a different pair of shoes quickly.

he made sure to click off your lights before leading you towards the window. it wasn’t too bad of a climb down, but you were nervous nonetheless.

“hold onto my hand, i’ll tell you where to step.” he gently held onto you so you could safely get down with him. as soon as your shoes hit the grass, a sense of euphoria overcomes you. there was so much excitement about disobeying the strict rules your parents laid on you, but you couldn’t hide the underlying worry.

“see? and that was the hard part.” he smiles at you, still hand and hand.

seungmin takes you to a parked car a few houses down from your own. the top was pulled down and there was an extremely prominent bouquet of lilies in the passenger seat. when it came into view, you squeezed his hand and grinned.

“how’d you know i liked lilies?” you replaced yourself with the flowers, sitting down comfortably with them in your lap.

“i didn’t, but i’m glad i made the right choice.”

the houses of your neighborhood passed by in a blur, all of them merging together as the car sped up. the breeze was cold, but you didn’t seem to mind. there was a feeling of warmth you felt when you were with seungmin, and this wasn’t any different.

there was a comfortable silence between you guys. neither of you bothered to say anything, basking in the presence of one another.

when he pulled up to the parking lot of a nearby park, you finally spoke.

“you took me to a park in the middle of the night to prove how much you want to be with me?” you ask.

“here, you’ll see.” seungmin took off his seatbelt and crawled into the back seat, motioning you to join him.

you abide, leaning over the center console towards him, still being careful not to ruin anything. as you plop yourself next to him, he pulls you to snuggle up against his chest. you could hear his heart beating a thousand miles per minute, but you could argue that yours was beating faster.

“look up.” he points towards the sky and your gaze follows.

stars. they dazzled, lightening the velvety night sky. they vary in size and brightness, forming intricate patterns that make you dizzy.

“it’s beautiful, seungmin.” you look over at his face, illuminated by the moonlight above. his features look much more perfect when you’re close.

“we’re all so similar to stars, y/n.” he started, rubbing circles into one of your hands, “there are so many that shine brightly in the sky, but you’re the only one i really care about.”

“gosh seungmin, you’re such a flirt.” you laugh, “but you’re an idol, you were trained to be charming.”

“i’m serious, y/n. you’re right in the sense that dating as an idol is really fucking hard. but my love for you is so real. shouldn’t that overpower it? nobody but my friends and the company have to know.”

you move your head away from his chest to look at him,”you love me?”

“of course i love you, y/n. i would be a fool not to.” he lifts you closer to him so you’re straddling his lap. when you move your hands up to cover your blushing face, he stops you. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers. “we’ll figure out everything i promise. i just need to be with you.”

“then be with me.” you affirmed, taking a small step closer to his face.

the distance between you and seungmin narrows slowly, and you can smell the sweet scent of his cologne, making you even more aware of his presence.

there are butterflies swarming in your stomach, convincing you that none of this is real. but as soon as his lips connected with yours, you were absolutely sure it was.

for the first few seconds, it was sweet. but the overwhelming feeling of so much love quickly turned into desperation.

something that he’s been waiting for in all the months of knowing you finally was his. the kiss lasted for what seemed like forever, evident by the redder your lips became.

it wasn’t until you were interrupted by a buzzing that shook the car seat. a mere string of saliva connected the two of your bruised lips. you looked around cluelessly before your phone, before seeing recognizable caller id.

“fuck, my dad’s calling me.”

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gaysindistress · 11 months

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Cocaine Jesus - Part 3 of Fine Line

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: you know the drill; angst, mentions of abuse, vague descriptions of abuse, the feels, Peggy Carter andddd John Walker slander

Word count

Master list

Fine Line & Dial Drunk

Word count: 4.3k

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom @zaraomarrogers @deafeningvoidcloud

a/n: you guys - "I need you to promise me that you'll give Honey and Steve a happy ending.

me -"I promiseeeeed other people that I'd write all the angst possible and I gave 'em my word sooooooo"

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

The letter read the most ridiculous thing that she has ever seen. A poor excuse, a failed lie, a fucked up story, a concoction of rumors mashed together to make something out of nothing. He left it on her bed without a second word to her, a word to her parents, and walked straight out of her life. He left the letter detailing every single lie he could’ve thought of for the last 48 hours on her bed, on her pillow to be specific like some fucked up love story you read about in high school. She always joked that they might be Romeo and Juliet but this?

This?

His actions were far beyond anything that Shakespeare might’ve thought of.

“I used you to cheat on Peggy but we’re getting married so this has to end. Goodbye, Steve.”

One single sentence to end a relationship that they had talked about that could last for years. One single sentence that shattered everything that she thought to be true and concrete in her life.

One sentence to take everything she’s been looking forward to drowned in it in her own tears.

She threw the letter into the fire, with tears streaming down her face, and a vengeance as she stared at the flames. Ashes of the relationship flooded around her, but a shard of light called her attention. On her nightstand is the picture of them from that first night; a polaroid of two bright and smiling faces, so hopeful that life will be OK. You already know the story behind the picture, but in the wake of the letter, she contemplated destroying that picture and any memory of Steve she could find. A part of her wouldn’t let her burn it so instead she slipped it into her nightstand and crawled into a ball on the floor to cry.

That night she slipped into adulthood and decided never again would she allow herself to be fooled by men like Steve Rogers.

“Hey doll, where would you like me to start?” Bucky gently calls over to her as she stares around the room around her her entire life from birth to know I haven’t packed up into boxes and is laying like a field of memories around them.

“I don’t know. I guess just pick up one and start putting them in the truck?”

But he gives her a no and does what she says; picking one box up and hauling it out to the truck. Her mom had helped her pack, shuffling through all the items that she felt like her dear daughter no longer needed. Her mother, Lauren, knew not to touch anything in the nightstand. She had seen the polaroid some nights after Steve’s week departure and figured that her daughter had hidden in the picture in the nightstand. She had liked Steve and talked to her husband many nights about how she had hoped that maybe one day he would be the one to harness that wild spirit within her daughter. Having known the Rogers since practically birth herself, it was a shock that Sarah had let something like this happen. Lauren had tried to get her husband to say something to Mr. Rogers however, nothing came of the conversations, but frustration and misplaced anger. She didn’t think that she nor her husband would ever be able to give the Rogers the time of day after this. It was a miracle to even get Bucky in the house given their new sentiment towards the Rogers.

Bucky chose to keep his words to himself and only offered her sad smiles or gentle hugs. He was so unbelievably pissed at Steve when he found out when it happened because they had known since his return that he would be forced to marry Peggy. On that Fourth of July night, he urged Steve to let go of this honey, to give her a chance but he refused. He was selfish like that sometimes, taking and taking from everyone around him, because it made him feel better. It caused many fights between the two childhood friends seeing as Bucky had taken a liking to her too. It was fun for him; the girls, the wine, and the weed. Nothing that Bucky could say would make him stop because he has always got what he wanted and Bucky was forever indentured to him so his hands were tied. His own father was in the same position as him, but to the older Mr. Rogers. So he watched on the sidelines as Steve ruined yet another young girl's life with his charm.

When Bucky had walked back into the room, he sensed a shift in the air as she kneeled in front of her nightstand, frozen in time she held that stupid portrait in her hands and gawked at it as if she saw a ghost. Every ounce of life and color drained from her face as she held this momento of pain in her hand. It burned him to not just rip it from her hands and destroy it for her. He wanted to give her everything that she had been promised and so much more but he knew that if he did that he would risk the wrath of Steve. He knew that if he tried to give her any ounce of comfort, Steve would know and make his life a living hell. He already had enough control over Bucky’s life and he didn’t want to give him another reason to be even more controlling.

Instead of doing what his heart screamed at him to do he gently placed his hand on her shoulder so she would know that he was there for her if she needed. She brought it as if burned by his touch and quickly dropped off, turning slightly to look at him. He saw the tears in her eyes, and he gathered her into his arms for a death grip hug. One hand snuck into her hair, and held her head against his chest, as the other gripped her tightly, as if to provide her with all the physical comfort that she could ever need as her body shook from the sobs, a wet spot forms on his shirt and his own throat tightened at the feeling resolves quickly turned from that of a heart broken woman to those gut, wrenching gasps of a person experiencing true agony. The sound stopped leaving her mouth, and her body heaved in efforts to keep up with the demand for air. Her knees buckled and they dropped to the floor together in a heap of tears and bones.

“I got you, doll. I won’t let you go. I promise.”

His words seemed to make her cries worse, but her arms wrapped around him and her hands Claude into the back of his shirt. She was gripping him as tight as he gripped her, the strength of their shared misery, keeping them together.

“I got you. It’s okay. Let it out.”

“After this, we can’t see each other.”

Once again, the boxes of her life scattered around them as they ate Chinese food and settled into her small apartment. 480 square feet of nothing but everything that she could possibly think of. She drops the chopsticks, flinging rice and vegetables everywhere when she hears the words come out of his mouth.

“I don’t… what?”

I just don’t think that it’s a good idea for us to hang out because…”

“ I swear to god if you tell me that Steve had anything to do with this I will actually kill him.”

He gives a sad laugh and looks down at his feet, “ doll. I don’t know what to tell ya.”

“You can start by answering my question. Did Steve have anything to do with us?”

He refuses to answer her question and won’t meet her eyeline. That’s all the answer she needs though. Steve had yet again ruined another chance for her to be happy and this time he wasn’t even there to do it.

She slummed against the couch and almost dropped the food container on the floor with disbelief. She stares ahead and says nothing. She can’t say anything. Nothing she could possibly think of would make this moment feel any better than it does.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky mumbles as he drops a light kiss onto her forehead and walks out of her life.

Once again, that Polaroid staring back at her as it peeks out of the top of the box it’s in. All she can see is the fireworks, but she knows what the picture is. She knows the curse that inevitably brings, but she can’t throw it away.

She won’t.

“You know, my apartment is bigger and you wouldn’t have to get rid of anything,” the blonde jokes as he lugs another donation bag out of her room.

Y/N shakes her head while she sorts more of her things, deciding what can go to D.C. with her and what stays behind with the rest of her past.

“But you’re here and I’m going to be 4 hours away. How is that supposed to work?” she calls after him.

“I wasn’t talking about my old place.”

She cocks her head but continues to focus on the task at hand, “Yeah your old place would be like a 5 hour drive on a good day.”

“Look at me, gorgeous.”

When she turns to look at him, he’s leaning against the door frame with a set of keys in his hand and a smile wide across his face. She gives him an even more confused look. He shakes them before tossing them to her. Turning over the keys in her hand, she spots a key chain that reads “I heart D.C.”

“I don’t…” she pauses for a moment, “Oh my god you got the job?!”

“I sure did. I start in a week which means…” he trails off and his smile grows even bigger. She jumps up and hugs him so tightly that he stumbles back.

“That’s so exciting, John! I’m so proud of you,” she all but exclaims holding him against her and the excitement vibrates off of her.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” he whispers as he takes her chin in his hand and tilts so their lips meet, “But that’s not even the best part. I had your landlord put us on the same lease and get us a bigger place.”

She stills and pulls away, “You did what?”

“Don’t be like that. Be happy that we’re both moving up in our careers and we’re moving to a new city. You even said it yourself; if I moved with you, we’d move in together.”

Nervously chuckling, she nods her head, “Oh I just wasn’t expecting it so soon, I guess.”

“What? You have a secret boyfriend or something?” tension fills his voice at her hesitation.

“No, no! It’s just a lot of info at once, that’s all,” she tries to reason and it seems to calm what storm was brewing.

John lets out a deep laugh and kisses her once more before letting her go.

“Good because I saw this,” he says, pulling out that god forsaken polaroid from his back pocket, “And got a little worried.”

Her smile freezes once more and she scrambles to come up with something, “Oh that’s an old family friend that’s all.”

“You look awful… close.”

“Just friends… well not even that anymore,” she tells John as she returns back to her cleaning, “You can just put it in a box.”

John hums but it’s filled with dismay as he debates ripping it to see her reaction. He’s not stupid, he could tell that whoever the man in the picture was, he meant something to Y/N and it was beyond just old friends. He takes a picture of it to send to a cop friend of his and slips it back into his pocket. He’s going to figure out who this man was and erase him from Y/N’s life.

Five days later John gets his answer.

Steve Grant Rogers, born July 4 19xx to Sarah and Joseph Rogers in Brooklyn, NY. Married to Margaret Carter Rogers. No known criminal record or alises. Father has a lengthy record and is suspected to be the current leader of the Rogers crime family. Steve is expected to be take over when Joseph dies.

John’s jaw clenches when he reads the emails and closes his computer. Anger licks up his spine at the thought of his sweet Y/N being at all connected to this criminal let alone as close as she appeared to be. Almost immediately his anger is drowned out when she walks through the door of their new apartment, arms full of groceries.

“Here, gorgeous, let me get that for you.”

Time flies by when you’re having fun or at least that’s what they tell everyone. Y/N hadn’t thought about that Polaroid since John brought it up. She assumed that he did as he was told, and just slipped into another box. She didn’t even question it when she hadn’t found it when they were unpacking. Time really did seem to heal her wounds and Steve had finally left her mind. Nearly 5 years after he’d left her heartbroken and angry, she finally was able to forget the hold he had on her. Even though she’d briefly tried to start something with Bucky, John Walker had been the one to show her what love meant… or at least what his version was.

Her new friends in D.C. had warned her about the red flags they’d seen but Y/N dismissed them. She felt she knew him better after all they’d been together for three years and were engaged. She always brushed it off as them being unhappy in their own relationship or John just had a bad day or he wasn’t always like this. It had gotten to the point where her own mother Lauren started to point out the concerning things she saw; however, it wasn’t until her three year anniversary dinner that it all came to a head.

John had suggested they go back to New York for a little getaway considering how stressful their jobs and wedding planning were. He’d made reservations at one of the finest restaurants on the Upper East Side along with staying in one of his friend’s condos. Everything had been perfect; champagne, rose petals, quiet instrumental music, and two people fighting in the bedroom.

“I can’t believe you! You’re such a fucking asshole!” She shouted at him from the bedroom as he continued to get ready.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he calmly responded, fixing his tie.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, John.”

“No I don’t.”

“You had Joaquin look into Steve.”

“I did so what,” he leveled a very stern gaze towards her through the bathroom mirror.

“And you didn’t tell me for 2 years.”

“So what?” He said even lower than before but finally turned to look at Y/N, “why does it matter if I looked into your little boyfriend?”

“What are you talking about?” She huffed, back straightening as chills began to run down her spine.

“I know about you and Steve. You didn’t want me to know so YOU lied to me about it so what was I supposed to do? Ignore it? I wouldn’t be a very good fiancé, husband even if I ignored my gut when it comes to you.”

“You’re seriously trying to say that you were concerned about me? I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know, you didn’t have to have someone get a whole ass police background check,” she tried to reason and to defuse the situation. She could sense the anger and aggression boiling under John’s skin no matter how calm and collected he seemed in the moment.

He ignored her, instead fixing the cuffs of his jacket and shirt. Waiting and making her think he was ignoring her was his favorite tactic to get under her skin.

“I didn’t lie to you, I would never do that,” she tried again whilst taking small steps towards him.

“I care so much about you, gorgeous,” he started, closing the gap before engulfing her in a bone crushing hug, “Steve is a dangerous man, so much more dangerous than you could ever imagine.”

She gasped at the pressure he was putting on her, “John you’re hurting me.”

His grip loosened for a moment before he spun her around so she could look in the mirror. One of his hands looped around her shoulders and the other found its place around her neck. Her own hands flew to his wrist and she began to claw at his wrist as he dropped his head so he could speak directly into her ear.

“I am the only person who can protect you from him. Me,” he punctuated the words with a tightening grip, “I’m disappointed that you didn’t tell me about him, gorgeous. I can’t have a lying wife and you know that; I need someone who is completely loyal to me. Do you think you can do that?”

Tears fell down her face, ruining the makeup she’s just finished putting on as she rapidly nodded her head. Satisfied he dropped her and let her fall forward to catch herself on the bathroom door frame.

“Clean up, we’re leaving in 15 minutes,” he whispered into her ear before leaving the room. Once she knew she was alone, she scrambled to grab her phone and dialed a number she’d hoped to never dial again.

“Doll?” The voice answered with confusion.

She cried even harder when Bucky picked up and she choked on her words, “I need your help please. I’ll pay you anything, everything. Please just… please.”

“Doll what is it? Where are you?”

“I’ll send you the address but you have to come quickly. Hide in the alley and I’ll figure out how to get there.”

“Of course, do you want me to call HIM?”

“No,” she barely held back the next wave of sobs at the thought and hung up.

She took a few deep breaths, calming her nervous system before standing to fix her makeup. Within minutes, she’s managed to make herself look presentable to John’s standards. However she’d exchanged her heels for flats in hopes that if she did have to make a run for it, she wouldn’t break her ankle.

Her phone pinged beside her, alerting her that Bucky would be at the restaurant when they got there and was in the back alley like she’d asked.

“I’ll be right back. Can you order me the salmon if I’m back when they take our order?” she sweetly smiled at John as she got up.

He gave her that sick PR smile he used on his sponsors and went back to reading the menu.

Y/N’s body shook as she got closer and closer to the bathroom. On her way she stopped their waitress, a younger red headed woman that John had been relentlessly rude to. The woman smiled and stopped her by gently grabbing her arm to pull her closer.

“Go through the kitchen and out the back door. He’s waiting for you,” she whispered to Y/N. Fear ran through her body again as she stared wildly at her.

“Go. Bucky hates waiting around,” she smirked before releasing her arm and guiding her into the kitchen. The red head waved a hand at Y/N as if to shoo away a child and pointed to a set of doors that she assumed led outside.

She mouthed thank you and ran for the doors, pushing them open with all her might. Before her was a blacked out SUV and a smiling Bucky in the backseat. He had opened the door when she came bursting out.

“Get in Doll.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She climbed in and sunk into the leather as the car pulled away.

“Where to?” He asked after they’d gotten away from the restaurant.

“Somewhere safe.”

Bucky nodded as he tapped the driver on the shoulder and said something to him. She didn’t register what address he gave him because fatigue took over her body and she drifted off into the abyss of sleep.

10 years.

10 years since she’d been home, seen family, spoken to her friends.

10 years since she’d left John in that restaurant and gotten into the car with Bucky.

It had been 10 years since she’d gained her freedom but at the cost of a normal life.

During that time, Bucky and Natasha, the waitress from that night, had hidden her and kept her in some sort of witness protection program. Bucky knew of John’s reputation and knew that the only way to guarantee Y/N’a safety was for her to disappear. He’s made her a ghost, changing everything about her so that no one could find her aside from him and Natasha. Of course going into hiding meant she had literally no other connections but the two of them.

Nat had offered her a job working alongside her as an executive assistant to Bucky and another man named Sam Wilson. Bucky had assured her that he didn’t work for Steve anymore and she wouldn’t see him. His promise did little to quell her fears but she trusted him nonetheless.

It became clear pretty quickly after she went into hiding that John had no idea where she went but he kept looking. Her family had been told about the situation but everyone else was kept in the dark, which made John even more furious. His efforts to find her had been in vain and roughly around the 4th year of no results he stopped looking. Regardless she remained hidden because at this point, she’d lived most of her adult life this way. Y/N didn't really know anything outside of the world that she’s created but that’s not to say she was naive. Of course working as the assistant to a mob boss, she wasn’t oblivious to the real world. In fact she probably understood it better than most, she simply preferred her world.

It had been nearly 15 years by now since she’d seen Steve. Occasionally she’d see his name on paperwork from Bucky’s time working under him. Other than that, there had been nothing. Peggy, on the other hand, she’d seen far too often between events, galas, and even in Bucky’s office. Y/N doubted that the woman remembered her, let alone knew who she was so she didn’t let it phase her when she saw her. Natasha was quick to fill her in on all of the gossip if she wanted but it was usually the same; Peggy cheated with the same two men, Steve found out and would threaten divorce but it never came to fruition because she would claim she was pregnant. Spoiler alert she never was but if she made a big enough deal about it, Steve would have to reconcile with her to save his and his family’s reputation.

However this round of accusations and threats seemed to stick; Steve had actually filed for divorce and demanded a paternity test if she was, in fact, pregnant. Of course she wasn't, hence why they were fighting in the lobby of Bucky’s office. Natasha chuckles under her breath at their petty words and glances over to Y/N.

“You ready?” She asks as she gathers her own things.

“Can we even get out? It sounds like they’re literally at the door.”

Before Natasha can answer, Bucky walks in followed by the arguing couple. They’re shouting so many things at each other that no one can keep track of what they’re actually arguing about.

“Oh fucking believe me. I can’t wait for this divorce to be over. Maybe I’ll stop getting so many fucking STDs,” Steve shouts as he slammed the door behind himself.

Peggy scoffs as she crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head.

“Yeah that’s right. Don’t say anything because you know I’m right,” he scoffs back, dropping himself onto the couch Nat and Bucky had christened several times.

Y/N winces at his loud voice and turns around so that her back is to them. She grabs whatever paperwork she can and shoves it into her bag.

Nat clears her throat and whispers, “Let’s go.”

She loops her arm in Y/N’s and bids everyone a goodbye. Dropping a kiss on Bucky’s cheek, she tries her hardest to sneak the other woman out before Steve can see her. As soon as they’re out the door, they hear exactly what they’re afraid of.

“I swear to god, Buck, if that was Y/N, I will execute you right here, right now.”

Nat stiffens for a moment but quickens her pace and practically drags Y/N along with her to get them out as soon as possible. Steve’s booming voice chases after them and they make eye contact as the two women climb into the elevator. Before the doors close, Y/N can see the absolute heartbreak and pain that’s written across his face.

She doesn’t care though.

He’d done the exact same to her.

She’d gotten a few weeks of privacy before the oaf of a man came knocking at her door. The day had been rainy like the week prior and she kept to herself inside. Y/N had always loved the rain no matter where she was at because it reminded her that the earth could renew itself after a storm. However her peace is shattered when she hears the familiar sound of a luxury car pulling up in front of her house. Grabbing the gun Bucky stashed for her, she goes to peek out of the window to see her worst nightmare walking up.

Albeit it’s Steve and not John, she still tucked the gun back into its place before answering the door.

One knock.

Two knocks.

Three knocks.

She opens it and her breath hitches in her chest at the sight.

“What are you doing here?”

The first words that came to her mind after 15 years of nothing at all.

#mafia steve rogers #mob au #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!steve x reader #mob steve rogers #mob Steve rogers x reader #mafia! steve rogers imagine #mafia steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #fine line steve rogers

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swan-of-sunrise · 13 days

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...Is Love, Sweet Love (Part II)

Summary: Eight months later, (Y/N) and her daughter Molly have settled in well at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, with (Y/N) teaching a Classical Literature class and six-year-old Molly taking courses while learning more about her telepathic skills. Charles, having fallen head over heels for the school's new professor, debates whether or not to act upon his feelings.

Pairing: Charles Xavier X F!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Yes, I know, it's slightly unhinged to write a Part II to a one-shot that I published over 2 years ago, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head and here's what I came up with! Again, "What The World Needs Now Is Love" by Jackie DeShannon partially inspired this fic, so you should totally give it a listen if you haven't heard it before :)

…Is Love, Sweet Love May 1980 Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester (Previous Chapter)

Despite living in his family’s mansion for the majority of his life and spending countless hours of his childhood eagerly exploring its sprawling grounds, Charles Xavier hadn’t truly grown to appreciate the tranquility that the estate provided until he’d re-started Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The sight of young mutants happily playing on the playground and partaking in group sports without feeling the need to hide their differences away brought a smile to Charles’ face, and the cheerful laughter of his students paired with the beautiful spring sunshine inspired him to once again enjoy his lunch outside with a good book…although, it was difficult to deny that he spent far more time listening in on Professor (Y/L/N)’s nearby Classical Literature class than actually reading his novel.

“Can anyone tell me why the characters of King Lear worship the pagan gods and not any form of Christianity?” (Y/N), who was sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of her small class, arched a brow as she surveyed the silent group of teenagers before her. “C’mon, guys, you know this. We went over the background of the play during our last lecture, and I seem to remember some of you even taking notes…” After a moment, a timid hand went up from the red-headed girl in the front and (Y/N) smiled. “Yes, Jean?”

“The play is set in ancient Britain, long before the arrival of Christianity.”

“Very good, Jean!” Jean Grey’s shoulders relaxed and beside her, her friend Jubilee gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Now, why would Shakespeare choose to set this play in this specific time period? Think about the time period in which Shakespeare lived, and what the social and political climate in England was like.” A dark-haired boy towards the back of their group raised his hand. “Go ahead, Remy.”

Remy LeBeau lowered his hand and began fiddling with his deck of playing cards as he spoke in his distinct French-Creole accent. “Well, Professor, that was when there was a lil’ trouble brewin’ ‘tween the Catholics and Protestants over there, right? He prob’ly didn’t wanna ruffle any feathers by puttin’ a popular religion in his plays, so he had his characters worship the gods from ol’ Roman mythology; anybody who’d be offended would’ve been long dead, so Willy did what any guy’d do to keep his head on his shoulders.”

Charles smiled to himself as the class laughed and (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a reluctant grin. “A little unorthodoxly put, Remy, but you’re absolutely correct. In the play, Lear states that-” She was cut off when the familiar sound of the school bell rang out and her students started to pack their things away. “Remember, on Monday we’ll begin performing your assigned scenes so be sure to work on memorizing your lines with your groups over the weekend. Have a good rest of your day!”

While they laughed and talked amongst themselves, the students headed back towards the mansion for their next class and with a fond smile on her face, (Y/N) looked away from them and finished packing her binders and books into her messenger bag. The novel in Charles’ hand was all but forgotten in favor of admiring his colleague and friend, who’s effortless beauty almost always succeeded in making him stutter over his words and caused him to blush in a way that he hadn’t since he was a schoolboy; she was dressed casually in a striped button-down blouse tucked into a faded pair of high-waisted jeans and well-worn Birkenstocks, with her (Y/H/C) hair pulled away from her face by a blue headband and her reading glasses dangling around her neck by a colorful beaded chain. Charles took in all of her striking figure, but it was her content smile and the happy gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes that made him release a lovelorn sigh and look down at his lap.

Charles was infatuated with Professor (Y/L/N). Well, it perhaps started out as a simple infatuation, back when she’d first arrived on his doorstep pleading for him to help her daughter; her kindness and caring nature in regards to Molly’s safety and well-being was touching, considering how many parents he’d met who were overly eager to pass their mutant children off to a complete stranger just to be rid of them. After hearing their story, he knew that she couldn’t bear to be separated from her five-year-old and so, he asked that she stay and teach at the school to ensure that they would remain together. That was eight months ago and since then, the infatuation had evolved into a full-blown romantic crush; Charles was captivated by (Y/N)’s capacity for compassion, enchanted by her quick wit and natural beauty, in awe of her progressive idealism in regards to mutant rights and more than appreciative of her boundless consideration in regards to his disability.

Yes, Charles was enamored by his school’s newest professor, but he was also plagued by insecurity. The last woman he was romantically involved with was Agent Moira MacTaggert of the CIA, all the way back in 1962 when he was a dashing young man who’d just earned his doctorate and possessed an egotistical streak wider than the English Channel; nowadays, his ego was tempered and his youthful good looks were beginning to give way to wrinkles and streaks of silver. While a ten-year age gap between two consenting adults was hardly an insurmountable obstacle to a happy relationship, a part of him couldn’t help but think that (Y/N) would be happier with someone younger than him. Both Alex and Hank thought that he was overthinking the situation, and perhaps they were right but whenever he started to consider asking her out, that little voice of doubt whispered on in the back of his mind.

“Hi Charles!”

Looking up, Charles’ face reflexively broke out into a grin when he saw (Y/N) approaching the bench he’d parked his wheelchair beside. “Hello, (Y/N)! Holding your classes outside today, I see?”

“It’s such a beautiful day, so you could hardly blame me for taking full advantage of it.” The professor adjusted the strap of her messenger bag and tilted her head as a teasing smile played across her cherry-red lips. “Enjoying your lunch outside today, I see?”

“Touché, Professor,” Charles chuckled, slipping his bookmark into his novel to mark his place and tucking it into his wheelchair’s saddle pack. “Hank seems to believe that my vitamin D levels are too low, so I decided that eating outside was the quickest way to get our resident worrywart off of my back. Not only did I soak up plenty of sun, I had the added pleasure of listening in on your fantastic lesson on Shakespeare’s King Lear; no offense to the Bard, but it’s refreshing to see an Classical Literature professor teach her students about one of his historical plays instead of one of his romances.”

(Y/N) shrugged nonchalantly, but the way she began to fiddle with her pendant revealed the bashfulness she was attempting to mask. “Well, I remember what it was like being fourteen; you’re around the same age as Romeo and Juliet, yes, but you don’t know a damn thing about love and it’s not easy to understand why they do the things they do.”

“As a former fourteen-year-old, I heartily concur. At that age, I could scarcely understand myself let alone an emotion as complex as love, no matter how beautifully Shakespeare described it,” Charles replied, looking out across the manicured grounds as he recited, “‘My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep-’”

“‘-The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite,’” (Y/N) finished and when their eyes met, Charles’ heart fluttered and he could feel his face beginning to warm; his brows rose in surprise when the professor hastily turned her head to try and hide her besotted smile, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the sight. “I, um, I-I should go and find Molly…”

“She’s at the playground with Alex’s second graders. Speaking of which, I need to speak with Alex about tomorrow’s scheduled book delivery…” Charles awkwardly cleared his throat before giving (Y/N) a tentative smile. “Would you allow me to escort you there?”

(Y/N)’s own smile widened at that. “Of course!”

While Charles wheeled himself along the stone pathway and (Y/N) kept in step with him, they eagerly discussed the school’s ongoing library expansion and all the new books they’d obtained for the students; any progress made at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but expanding his ancestral home’s library was one of his greatest desires and he was thrilled that the children would soon have access to more knowledge than many of the country’s best private schools and universities. (Y/N) was just as excited about the expansion as he was, and he couldn’t help but admire the enthusiasm written across her beautiful features while he listened to her talk about all the lesson plans she’d brainstormed involving their new books.

They reached the playground sooner than Charles would’ve preferred, but his disappointment was set aside by the sight and sound of his school’s youngest students happily entertaining themselves on the elaborate structure; so many of them came from broken homes and were sent away without any second thoughts by families that couldn’t care less about them and while Charles couldn’t change their heartbreaking pasts, he did all in his power to give each and every one of his students a loving home and bright, promising futures. For the first time, I find myself truly understanding the blinding rage that fills Erik in regards to mutant rights, he thought with an inward grimace before glancing over at (Y/N) and smiling as the human woman affectionately watched her mutant daughter play, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve lost my faith in humanity’s innate goodness.

“Hi Mommy!” Molly exclaimed from the top of the structure, a toothy grin stretching across her face as she gave them both an enthusiastic wave. “Hi Professor ‘Zavier!”

“Hi Molly-Bear!” (Y/N) called back while a beaming Charles returned the little girl’s wave with one of his own. He’d always maintained that a good professor shouldn’t have favorites, but no one would blame him if he came out and admitted that Molly (Y/L/N) was – hands down – his favorite student; she was as exuberant and carefree as any human six year old, but her mutant abilities as a psychometric telepath meant that she was more insightful and tended to see the world around her with sage eyes. In truth, Molly reminded him so much of himself when he was a child and knowing first-hand how challenging having telepathic abilities at that age can be, he was grateful that he could help her by teaching her how to control and accept her gifts.

While Charles scanned the playground for Alex, he caught (Y/N) looking over at him and the tender expression on her face nearly took his breath away; she quickly looked away and pretended to adjust the fasteners of her messenger bag, but not before Charles noticed the glimmer of affection in her gorgeous (Y/E/C) eyes. A familiar whistle cut through his racing thoughts and when he glanced over, he spotted Alex leaning against a light pole that bordered the playground; a knowing smirk curved across the younger man’s face, widening as he brought a hand up to his temple and wiggled his fingers to signal for Charles to read his mind.

“I told you so.”

“Alex…”

“(Y/N)’s into you, Charles, and you’re clearly into her. So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

After taking a steadying breath and running an anxious hand through his hair, Charles cleared his suddenly dry throat and hesitantly spoke. “(Y/N)?” The professor looked over at him expectantly and his finger drifted upwards to loosen his shirt’s collar while he clumsily continued. “I, ah…well, I-I was wondering if I…(Y/N), would you and Molly care to join me for dinner sometime? There’s a wonderful Italian restaurant in Salem Center and a little movie theater just down the street from it that I think you’ll enjoy…”

(Y/N) blinked, looking dumbfounded but slightly hopeful as she took a moment to find her voice. “Charles, are you asking me out on a date?”

Charles nodded and offered her the barest of smiles. “Over the past few months, I’ve grown…immensely fond of you; I wake up every morning looking forward to our usual discussions over breakfast, I find myself spending far too much time styling my hair and picking out what to wear in the hopes that you’ll take note and every time you smile at me, my heart skips a beat.” The professor shyly smiled at that and he couldn’t help but lightly chuckle, the weight in his chest already feeling lighter with each confession he uttered. “Yes, just like that.”

“And you…you wouldn’t mind Molly coming along?”

The anxiety that filled (Y/N)’s eyes as she awaited his answer nearly shattered Charles’ heart; based on what little she’d disclosed to him about her past, he knew that she’s struggled with dating as a single mother and he could only imagine how disillusioned with romance she’d become as a result. “Of course not, (Y/N),” He softly replied and in a bold move, he reached forward and took her hand in his. “You two are a team, after all; Molly is your entire world, and I want you to know that I respect that more than anything. It’s also…well, let’s just say that it’s been quite a while since I’ve gone on a date, and I’d…”

“Like to go slow?” (Y/N) gently offered and when Charles wordlessly nodded, she gave him the smallest of smiles before looking over her shoulder and calling out, “Molly? Sweetheart, can you come here for a second, please?” After coming down the slide, Molly skipped over to them and the professor knelt down so that they were eye-level, her hand still holding onto his. “Professor Xavier wanted to know if he could take us out for dinner and a movie. Does that sound all right to you, Molly-Bear?”

The little girl’s head tilted to the side as her (Y/E/C) eyes studied Charles, and he was forced to mask his amused chuckle with a cough when she brought a mitten-clad hand up to her mother’s ear. “Like on a date?” Molly loudly whispered, and (Y/N) pursed her lips to keep from chuckling as she nodded; her daughter lowered her hand to reveal her excited smile and she gave her mother an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me!” Molly looked back at Charles with a conspiratorial giggle. “Mommy likes you, Professor ‘Zavier.”

Charles arched a playful brow as his eyes flicked between the embarrassed elder (Y/L/N) and the beaming younger (Y/L/N). “She does, does she?”

“Mm-hmm, she likes your eyes and your smile and your hair and your-”

“Okay, young lady, that’s enough out of you,” (Y/N) hastily interrupted, tickling her daughter’s neck with both hands and smiling when she shrieked with laughter and scurried back to the playground. Shaking her head in fond exasperation, she stood and glanced back at Charles, who was trying and failing to muffle his laughter. “Well, I guess that settles it. Does six o’clock this Friday work for you?”

He emphatically nodded. “Yes, of course, it’s perfect!” He felt himself begin to blush at his obvious enthusiasm, and it was (Y/N)’s turn to chuckle as he awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again. “…I-I mean, Friday at six o’clock works for me.”

“Good. I guess that Molly and I will see you then.” The professor turned to walk away but took Charles by surprise when she turned back around and bashfully smiled at him. “I’ve…I’ve grown immensely fond of you too, Charles.”

Before he could say or do anything, she’d bent down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto his cheek, an infatuated gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes as she flashed him one last smile and left to meet her daughter on the playground. A broad grin slowly spread across Charles’ face and while he watched her walk away, he leaned an elbow onto his wheelchair’s armrest and rested the side of his head against his palm, releasing a love-struck sigh and barely taking note of the familiar figure that moved to stand beside him.

“See what happens when you actually take my advice?”

Charles straightened his posture and glanced over at Alex, who was wearing the smuggest of smiles on his faces as he stared back at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an impertinent ass, Alex Summers?”

Alex’s smirk widened. “Heard it all my life. So, when’s the big date?”

“This Friday at six o’clock. And since you and Hank have taken such a keen interest in my love life, I’ll be requiring your assistance on Friday.” The younger man quickly sobered and with a grin of his own, Charles chuckled and patted his arm. “There’s a good chap. Now, about tomorrow’s book delivery…”

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

Although it was a far cry from the hazy evenings spent at Oxford’s many lively pubs and in the company of the college’s most flirtatious female students, Charles’ date with (Y/N) and Molly was undoubtedly the most enjoyable one he’d ever been on. He’d met the mother and daughter in the mansion’s foyer with two bouquets in his hands – daisies for Molly and vibrant pink roses for (Y/N) – and he happily watched them admire their flowers while simultaneously hiding the fact that he was studying (Y/N)’s figure; the professor was wearing a knee-length yellow dress with long billowing sleeves, a bright pink sash tied around her waist and matching high heels, and her carefully styled hair was pulled back by a pink headband. She was beautiful, far too beautiful to be going out with the likes of him, but his fears of inadequacy were quickly alleviated when she looked over at him and smiled.

Hank and Alex drove the three of them to Salem Center in Charles’ maroon 1959 Jaguar Mark IX, the pair of them opting to stay in town and catch a showing of the newly-released The Empire Strikes Back while they dined at La Mensa. Sensing Molly’s apprehension with being around so many non-mutant strangers, Charles distracted her by playing ‘tic-tac-toe’ and ‘hangman’ with her on her paper place-mat and (Y/N) threw him a grateful look as she asked her daughter about her schoolwork; while they enjoyed their food, (Y/N) entertained them with stories of her students’ antics and after some goading by Molly, she even balanced a spoon on the end of her nose much to her daughter and Charles’ delight. After dinner, they made their way down the street to the small movie theater and while many of its patrons were queued up to watch the latest Star Wars film, the three of them decided on watching the re-release of Disney’s Lady and the Tramp; Molly adored the classic cartoon and while Charles was impartial to the film, he thoroughly enjoyed exchanging enamored glances with (Y/N) over the little girl’s head.

Molly fell asleep on the drive home, cuddling against her mother’s side as she lovingly brushed her fingers through her daughter’s (Y/H/C) hair. In low whispers, (Y/N) assured Charles that Molly had a wonderful time and that she hadn’t seen the little girl so happy since before she’d come into her mutation; although aware that Hank and Alex were clearly eavesdropping from their front seats, Charles quietly asked her if she’d care for a quick nightcap in his study after putting Molly to bed, and he was thrilled when she readily accepted his invitation. When they arrived back at the mansion, (Y/N) carried the still-sleeping Molly inside, but not before giving Charles one last smile as he maneuvered into his outside wheelchair.

“So…” Hank arched a curious brow as he walked beside Charles’ wheelchair and steadied it when they reached the top of the ramp, where Alex was waiting with his motorized indoor wheelchair. “How was it?”

“Charming, but I could’ve done without the rather offensive Asian and Italian stereotypes-”

“Not the movie, Charles, the date,” Alex interrupted and when Charles chuckled in amusement at his friends, he leaned a shoulder against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, you finally ask out the woman you’ve been head over heels for and you’re not gonna give your two best friends the four-one-one?”

Shaking his head in faux exasperation, Charles shifted himself into his motorized wheelchair and arranged his legs as he airily answered, “(Y/N), Molly and I ate a truly magnificent meal at La Mensa that we followed up by watching a classic Disney film at the movie theater. What more is there to say?”

Alex heaved a sigh but moved to allow Charles to wheel himself into the mansion. “A little help here, Hank?”

“Oh, he’s having far too much fun messing with us to stop.” The scientist tucked his hands into his jacket pockets while a mischievous smirk played on his lips. “But speaking as the school’s resident genius, I couldn’t help but notice the good professor clearly checking (Y/N) out before we left and blushing when she smiled at him just now.”

A reluctant blush warmed Charles’ cheeks at that. “Don’t you two perverts have morning classes to prepare for?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, lover boy,” Alex smugly countered, nudging Hank’s arm with his elbow as they walked beside Charles’ wheelchair down the vacant hall to his study. “Well, Beast, there’s no doubt about it: Charles here’s got it bad for our lovely Professor (Y/L/N).”

When they reached his study’s door, Charles nudged it open and wheeled himself inside, but not before giving both men a look of genuine sincerity. “Thank you, for your assistance tonight and for your encouragement; the pair of you can occasionally be a pain in the ass, but tonight couldn’t have happened without you.”

Hank’s smile softened. “You’re welcome, Charles. We’re just happy that we succeeded in making you do something selfish for once.”

“Yeah, you’ve helped us both out so much over the years and it was high-time we returned the favor,” Alex added as he clapped Charles on the shoulder, his earnest expression morphing into a knowing smirk while he continued. “Enjoy your nightcap with (Y/N), and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, lover boy.”

“Oh, and don’t forget protection!”

“Goodnight, gentlemen.”

Chuckling, Alex and Hank left the study and closed the door behind them; after pausing for a moment to take a calming breath, Charles wheeled himself over to the oak cabinet near his cluttered desk and unlocked it, pulling out a glass decanter of scotch and two glasses and setting them down on the coffee table. He bit his lip as his eyes surveyed the messy state of his study, cursing himself for not tidying up earlier, but a part of him knew that (Y/N) wasn’t the type to mind a little clutter; she liked to joke that the best professors had the messiest studies because they spent all their time teaching instead of worrying about how others perceive them. It was the good manners instilled in him from birth that saw him gathering stacks of loose papers, binders and leather-bound books and unceremoniously shoving them behind his desk before lifting himself out of his wheelchair to sit on the couch; with nothing else to distract himself from the anxious anticipation building up within him, Charles plucked the maple-colored queen off the chessboard and nimbly twirled it around his fingers as he waited for (Y/N).

Minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door of his study and after scrambling to straighten up his chessboard, Charles called out, “Come in!” The door opened and (Y/N) stepped into the room, her gentle smile widening when she spotted him seated on the couch. “How’s Molly?”

“Out like a light.” (Y/N) crossed the room and sat on the couch beside him, her fingers playing with the flowing yellow material of her dress’ skirt as Charles poured their drinks. “She wanted me to tell you that she had a really fun time tonight, and she wanted me to thank you.”

“She’s been working so hard these past few months to complete her schoolwork and training, so if anyone deserves to have a little fun it’s undoubtedly her,” Charles replied, a surge of fondness for his youngest student and her kindheartedness bringing a smile to her face as he turned to (Y/N) and offered her a glass of the amber-colored liquid. “As do you, Professor.”

Accepting the glass, (Y/N) hummed thoughtfully before holding it up and angling it towards him. “In that case…to having fun.”

“To having fun,” Charles repeated, lightly clinking his glass of scotch against hers and taking a sip, his eyes appreciatively roaming along the professor’s figure while she took a sip of the strong liquor. “Do you like it? It’s top shelf scotch whiskey, all the way from Scotland.”

(Y/N) arched a playful brow as she crossed her leg over her knee and angled herself to face him. “Expensive, imported liquor? Are you trying to impress me, Professor?”

“Well, that all depends…” Following his instincts, Charles set his glass down and rested his elbow on the couch’s back cushion, his lips curving into a playful grin. “Is it working?”

Her (Y/E/C) eyes softened and after setting her own glass down, she rested one of her hands on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Charles, I was impressed by you before the top shelf scotch, before the fancy Italian restaurant, and before I ever laid eyes on this beautiful mansion.” His brow furrowed in confusion but she merely smiled and rubbed small circles along his knuckles with her thumb. “Eight months ago, the letter that I sent you asking for help with Molly was my Hail Mary; I had nowhere to go and no way to protect my daughter from the people who hated her for who she was, so I decided to write to the one person I knew could help her. And when you sent me a letter back – that incredibly kind and empathetic letter – you gave me hope, hope that I hadn’t felt in so long. So, you see? You managed to impress me before we’d even met, Charles Xavier.”

Charles, touched by her sincerity and feeling a little emotional, reached forward with his free hand and carefully cradled her warm cheek in his palm. “Oh, my darling (Y/N)…you’re not the only one who’s had their hope restored; I gave up any hope for romance not long after I lost my legs, choosing to focus my attention on the school and my fellow mutants. Over these past several months, however, you helped me to see that there was still hope.” His thumb traced along her cheekbone as he smiled and slowly began to lean in. “And now, I would very much like to kiss you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N)’s smile widened. “I’d like that very much as well, I just…” He could feel her cheek flush beneath his touch, and a look of embarrassment flashed across her face. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this. Would it be silly to say that I’ve got butterflies in my stomach?”

“Not at all, darling. Truth be told, I’m a little nervous myself,” Charles murmured, his eyes flicking away from hers to stare at her enticing lips before glancing back up. “The last time I kissed a woman was in 1962, so you’ll have to forgive me if my technique has gotten slightly rusty over the past eighteen years.”

“Well, we won’t know unless we give it a go, will we?” (Y/N) breathed and her (Y/E/C) eyes burned with desire as they both inched closer. “Charles, dear…please kiss me.”

Wanting nothing more than to please the professor, Charles’ eyes fluttered closed as he tentatively brushed his lips against hers. (Y/N) wasted no time in returning the kiss, kissing him softly and sweetly as her hand left his to rest on the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair and eliciting a blissful groan from him; with one hand still cupping her cheek, he rested the other on her waist but soon found himself winding his arm around her in an effort to bring her closer. (Y/N)’s lips were soft and oh so addictive, slowly but firmly caressing against his as her fingers carded through his locks, and Charles surrendered himself over to the woman wrapped in his embrace.

Eventually, they were forced to separate for some much-needed air, the both of them out of breath and almost dizzy from their impromptu make-out session; Charles felt a surge of pride as he took in (Y/N)’s kiss-swollen lips, heaving chest and the dazed smile on her face, and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to lightly rub his nose against hers. When he pulled back, he huffed out a breathless chuckle at the incredulous look that she was giving him. “That’s a rusty technique?”

“Mm-hmm. Dreadful, wasn’t it?”

(Y/N) giggled at his joking question and pretended to consider it. “You know, I think I need another example before I can definitively say.” They both laughed but when Charles moved in for another kiss, a sharp twinge in his lower back caused him to recoil with a hiss of pain. “Charles, are you okay?!”

He mutely nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he straightened his posture and leaned his back against the plush couch cushions. “I’m fine, it’s just a muscle spasm.”

“Is it…?” (Y/N) trailed off and when Charles finally opened his eyes as the pain began to fade, he could see the worry written across her face. “Is it because of your spinal cord injury?”

“That, and I’m afraid that I’m getting on in years; I’m not as young and spritely as I was in 1962.” Instead of stammering out a string of apologies and getting up to leave as Charles feared she would, the corner of (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a lopsided grin that left him slightly confused. “(Y/N)?”

The professor shifted closer to him. “Did you know that Molly’s father was fourteen years older than me?” Charles’ brow rose in surprise and he silently shook his head, watching as she reached over and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “You could say that I’ve always had a thing for older men…” Before he could think of something witty to say, (Y/N) swung her leg over his to straddle his lap and rested her hands on either side of his face; Charles couldn’t help but grin and, inspired by her delectable boldness, he placed his hands on her waist to hold her securely to him, his grin widening as her breath hitched. “Go ahead and read my mind if you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

Shaking his head, Charles rested his head on the back of the couch so that he was staring up at her, softly smiling as one of his hands traveled upwards to cradle her cheek. “I believe you, darling. Would it be too sappy to say that I don’t want this night to end?”

“Not at all, dear,” (Y/N) shook her head before closing the distance between them and captured his lips in another passionate kiss; when they finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against his and returned his blissful smile with one of her own. “We can make this work, can’t we? Balance the two of us with running the school and raising Molly?”

“I believe that you and I can do just about anything, so long as we’re together,” Charles replied, his thumb and forefinger moving to guide her chin forward and pouring all his emotions into another kiss; there was no place on Earth he’d rather be than in the arms of the lovely Classical Literature professor who’d captured his heart and judging by the way she kissed him back, it was clear that she was thinking something along the same lines.

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

A/N: I had so much fun dipping my toes back into the Fox X-Men Universe (I still have a massive thing for 80's Charles Xavier and his flowing brown hair lol) and I loved that I finally resolved Charles and (Y/N)'s mutual attraction with this cute Part II! I may or may not have a few ideas for a possible Part III, so let me know if you'd be interested in reading more! Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying!

Story Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl Marvel Tag List: @brooke0297 Permanent Tag List: @momc95 @crowleysqueenofhell @groovy-lady

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shootinwebs · 2 months

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fucked up shortwrite huskerdust fic/excerpt (angel pov) because i'm all fucked up and venting some bullshit

( content warnings: mild NSFW implied, sexual abuse / angel & valentino, graphic imagined gore )

( spoilers: s1:e4 )

I thought having sex with Husk would comfort me.

But, after we'd been kissing and rubbing for a while, and he started to prepare himself to enter me, I clammed up.

I couldn't get it out of my head. Having to fake an orgasm for Val that day, having to cry out the words "I love you" at the peak of it. It made me sick to my stomach. It made every part of me tense up.

"...stop..." I gasped to Husk. My voice was so small, as I was gritting my teeth.

He heard me and backed off.

I hugged myself tightly, folding my legs against my torso.

"...I'm sorry..." I whimpered, starting to cry a little. From the humiliation of what sounds and words I'd had to force out of me with Val hours before.

"...Anything I can do for you?" Husk asked softly, zipping up his pants.

"...I... I want you to stay with me, but please don't touch me..."

Not that I ever fucking read that shit, but...

There's something in Shakespeare about how... something isn't truly the worst until you can no longer say it is. I don't know what it's really supposed to mean, but, to me... it ain't the worst until there are no words. When you can't form them in your head anymore.

There existed a number of words for it. But I didn't have the electricity running in my head enough to think them. Violated, dirtied, tormented. None of them sufficed. But whatever it was, I felt fucking that by the sounds replaying in my head. I wanted to rip my head open and gouge out my fucking brain. A shotgun in my mouth wouldn't be violent enough. I needed to stab myself over and over and over again in my fucking skull and mangle the grey matter and then fucking stomp the shit out of it.

Husk noticed me trembling, and that my eyes were wide and staring at nothing. My breathing had become violent.

He moved to the edge of the bed to sit there, giving me space.

"Hey, if... If you need someone to beat the shit out of, I volunteer," Husk said.

Normally, that would've made me laugh.

But no. With how fucking furious and torn open and disgusting I felt... if I started hitting him, it would be hard for me to stop.

I was scared of how violently enraged I was.

I held my head with my hands pressed over my ears, as if in a feeble attempt to keep the sounds of my own voice in my ineffable memory away.

And a noise came out of me like a low growl. I needed to scream. But it wouldn't come out; I had to build it up.

I kept forcing my voice out, until I was indeed screaming, at the top of my lungs.

I couldn't stop.

Some seconds into it, I felt a soft pressure enclose me.

It wasn't Husk. I would have instinctively gored anyone with my bare hands if they touched me.

When I lost my voice and couldn't scream anymore, and was just a trembling mess with tears running down my face, I noticed it was layers of weighted blankets on top of me.

Husk was still there, at the foot of the bed. Just to be there. Keeping his hands to himself, not trying to console me with empty, hopeless words.

I loved him for it. That way he had of never forcing me to talk about anything, never hugging me if I didn't want it, and most of all, his understanding that, in my circumstances, there were no uplifting words.

He understood and respected the hopelessness of it all. The lost cause.

He knew any "it'll be okay" bullshit would infuriate me, or make me physically ill at best.

He made me feel safe.

Loved.

Known.

I wanted to tell him I loved him, in that moment.

But the phrase had been tarnished.

So I just said his name instead.

"...Hassan..." I whimpered his real name in a painful rasp.

"Yes, baby?"

I just said it again.

And he understood.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angelhusk #casino hearts #angel dust #husk hazbin

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five-miles-over · 7 months

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Please, baby! Jonathan Pine + kisses that start out passionate but grows more delicate + brushing lips together, lingering for a moment, catching your breath

Thank you so much for sending in this request, and thank you even more for your patience :) I hope you enjoy this.

My Dearest Diamond

Summary: After nearly two years of working for MI-6, Jonathan tried to get in touch with you, the girl who stole his heart when he worked at Hotel Meister. For three weeks, the two of you rekindled your love via handwritten letters, until you booked a five-day trip to London to see him.

As he prepares to make this holiday special for you, Jonathan reflects on his relationship with you...and carries out one last errand before you land.

Warnings: Mentions of past smut (nothing explicit), kissing. References to characters like Roper, Sophie, Angela, and Freddie from the tv show

Jonathan glanced at his watch. Your flight to London was set to land in exactly three hours. It would be your first flight to London from Zurich, and the first time he would be seeing you after three weeks of exchanging handwritten letters and twenty months of separation.

Twenty months since the last time he held you in his arms and stroked your hair. Twenty months since your last goodbye in the lobby of Hotel Meister, when he caressed your soft cheeks and wiped your tears to no avail. Twenty months since he heard the sound of your voice.

The closest that Jonathan had gotten to "hearing" you was through the letters you wrote to the British Foreign Office. Three weeks ago, he'd decided to get in touch with you once Operation Limpet came to a semi-steady conclusion, and discretely had a letter delivered to the university of Zurich, where he remembered you were enrolled as a student of history and political science. Should any of Roper's cronies choose to track down Jonathan's contacts, his letters to you were each addressed with a different pseudonym.

Your letters to him were often simple, filled with trivial anecdotes about your life - the plays you'd seen, the books you'd read, the cakes you tasted. But to Jonathan, they were anything except trivial. They reminded him that there was more to life than a blind attachment to duty. That it was innocent civilians like you for whom a man like Roper needed to be stopped. That for Jonathan, a life with true companionship and simple pleasures was possible. And for those reasons and more, Jonathan Pine, ex-soldier and former hotelier, a once self-exiled creature of the night, was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with you.

He loved you since the night you first met. In that same lobby where he welcomed Roper and many other distinguished guests, Jonathan introduced himself to you. Even as he passed through the crowded streets of London, all Jonathan had to do was close his eyes, and in the blink of an eye, he would be transported back to Zurich, back to that fateful night two years ago.

You sat by yourself in the lobby, your nose buried in a copy of Shakespeare's Henry V. Eleven-thirty on a winter's night, Jonathan made his way to the sofa where you were sitting and began conversation. You talked about your childhoods, his military boarding school past and your history of always being the "good girl" who never broke rules. And from that moment followed one of the most intimate nights of your lives. In one of the hotel's hidden rooms, you and Jonathan played a game of strip poker ,fueled by glasses of champagne, that led to you losing your virginity to the night manager.

The morning after, Jonathan woke you up with sweet kisses all over your neck and shoulder while you were entangled in his bedsheets. Over a breakfast of Parisian-style hot chocolate and croissants, you bonded became your doting sweetheart.

The next three months were the most comfortable ones of Jonathan's life. In his mind, those months were like the kind of time he could have shared with Sophie if she weren't tied up in Freddie Hamid's dangerous games. If her life weren't as precarious as Jonathan's own life.

No, Jonathan silently chastised himself. Sophie was not you. Jed was not you. None of them could ever hold a candle to you.

Yes, they were beautiful. Always put together and dressed head-to-toe in designer wear found in expensive boutiques, knowing the right things to say at the right time. But you…you were everything he truly wanted. Kind, endearing, loyal, and filled with a rosy outlook that contrasted the cynicism that Jonathan had built to shield himself from a ruthless world.

And yes, Jonathan remembered with a smile, you always had your own form of seduction: holding his hand and stealing kisses while you walked through the city on holidays; playing with his hair after sleeping together, and teasing him with your toes while he answered tedious calls on the hotel phone. Usually those little games of yours ended with you laughing without restraint as soon as he hung up the phone, and him silencing you with his lips on yours.

It was drug-like, the effect you had on him during those three months of romance. Every time you were near, he simply had to hold you close, touching you and kissing you. And those needs stemmed beyond mere lust - he also wanted to listen to you speak about your favorite things, even if that involved you rambling for thirty minutes about how King Henry V courted Catherine Valois. He wanted to see you laugh at the most awful jokes, and to witness your face light up at the sight of snowflakes. But most of all, he wanted you to live. He wanted you to life a life filled to the brim with joy, peace, and comfort.

When he parted ways with you to join Agent Burr in Operation Limpet, he'd expected you to move on. To fall in love with another - someone who could give you that beautiful life you deserved without burdening you with a baggage-filled past. It would indeed break his heart, but not as much as his heart broke when he watched you sob the day he informed you of his resignation from Meister. Yet here you were, over a year later, going out of your way to keep in touch with him despite every possible risk.

So when you booked a five-day long holiday in London during Easter just to see him again, Jonathan took it upon himself to make it as perfect for you as possible.

He'd already told Agent Burr at the Foreign Office to hold all calls and files until next week if possible.

"Goodness, Pine. Always so quick to risk everything for a girl," Burr tutted him.

"She's not just any girl. She's my girl."

The first thing Jonathan had in mind for you was a home-cooked dinner, knowing you would be quite tired from your journey. You would stay in his flat, of course. He could never allow you to sleep anywhere else. Then, he booked two tickets for the Donmar theater to witness a performance of Shakespeare's Coriolanus, led by some actor named Tom whatever-his-last-name-was. After that, Jonathan compiled a list of everything else that a visitor to London would want to see: Big Ben, the London Eye, the British museum, and the Rose Gardens in Hyde Park. And as a footnote to his itinerary, Jonathan added a trip to Primrose Bakery - just for the girl who described her favorite cakes in detail.

Two more hours. Jonathan glanced at his watch again. There was one more thing that he needed to do before going to Heathrow airport in time for your flight.

"Hello," Jonathan opened the black ornate door of a Harry Winston store on New Bond street, and approached a member of staff. "I'm looking to buy an engagement ring."

He cursed himself momentarily for not having done this sooner, the moment he received word about your trip to London. To his luck, however, Jonathan found an elegant round-cut ring, three-quarters of a carat. It was the best thing that he could give someone so loving and devoted. A diamond for his most precious diamond.

Paying for the ring with a stack of cash that led to some raised eyebrows, Jonathan then hailed a taxi. At the sight of him leaving the Harry Winston store with the small box containing the ring, the driver couldn't help but chuckle.

"Wife or girlfriend?" The cabbie asked after hearing Jonathan's destination.

"Yes." Jonathan laughed for the first time in weeks, perhaps months.

The taxi eventually reached the perimeter of the airport, and Jonathan handsomely tipped the driver. On his way to the terminal, he shoved the small box into one of his pockets. He didn't bother top sit down as he waited for your flight, pacing up and down.

He needed to decide the right moment to give you the ring. Obviously he couldn't present the ring as soon as you landed; it would be too hasty. Perhaps he could surprise you with it at Primrose Bakery, after sharing a slice of tiramisu and some tea. He could gently take you by the hand, look you in the eye, and simply…ask the question that would make you his for the rest of his life. Or, the moment might be better in Hyde Park surrounded by the flower beds, a setting that you would surely find romantic. Wherever it was, Jonathan needed to do it at some point during these next five days. He just needed to do it, or risk -

"Pine?"

Jonathan turned around to find you outside the gate with a rolling suitcase next to you. There you were, standing there with that perfect smile he would never stop adoring. Even with a hint of maturity on your face painted by the passage of those months, it was still as if nothing changed after all this time. And the best part of it all? You were really there, not just part of a dream that floated into his mind on a sleepless night.

He sensed that same, familiar perfume of yours when you threw your arms around him. Right now, there was nowhere else he'd rather be than here in this moment, embracing you. Your lips found his, and his fingers rested in your hair. God, he could never forget the way you felt, how soft and comforting your lips were He placed his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. For Jonathan, this wasn't just any kiss. This was the first of many kisses needed to make up for the tears he made you shed, and for the pain of separation that he made you sure.

You broke the kiss after what felt like several moments, gasping. "I missed you so much…' Your forehead rested against his for a moment before Jonathan pecked you on your forehead, on both of your cheeks, and on the corner of your mouth.

"I missed you more," Jonathan murmured between kisses. "I missed everything about you…,I…I love you, my dearest diamond."

As soon as you could catch your breath, you pressed your lips against his one last time. "I love you too, Pine."

Tagging: @lokischambermaid @smolvenger @lovelysizzlingbluebird @asgards-princess-of-mischief @omgsuperstarg @holdmytesseract @lokidbadguy @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life @anukulee @muddyorbsblr @fantasyfan4life @eleniblue

#tom hiddleston characters #jonathan pine #jonathan pine imagine #jonathan pine x reader #jonathan pine fanfiction #the night manager fanfiction #the night manager

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dianawinchester03 · 2 months

Text

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

Y/N and Dean are currently asleep. On separate beds of course, in the three bedded motel room. Half asleep, both facing each other on their respective beds, they hear the door start to unlock, instantly jumping into hunters instinct, they go to grab their weapons from below their pillows upon hearing footsteps and the door locking.

"Morning Sunshines" Sam's voice is ridden with humor. Y/N groans from being woken up. "What time is it?" Dean asks, his voice croaky. "It's about 5:45" Sam says. Y/N gets up slowly, turning her head to Sam who has three coffees in his hand. "In the morning?" She groans, throwing her covers from over her, sitting up and stretching.

"Yep" Sam says, confirming. "Where does the day go?" Dean asks rhetorically, getting up also. Y/N looks at Sam properly, seeing a tired expression on his face, "Did you get any sleep last night?" Y/N asks Sam, her voice filled with concern, as she tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Her bed head in a mess.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours" Sam lies and Dean picks up on this. "Liar" he grumbles back almost immediately. "I was up at 3, and you were watching George Foreman informercial, while Ms. Nicotine over here was snoring her lungs away" Dean says sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Snickering, he points to Y/N who is now by an open window, sitting on the still, one leg crossed over the other, in the middle of lighting cigarette.

She pauses halfway, looking up guiltily, like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. The brothers look back at their friend chuckling. "I do not snore" She huffs, taking a drag. Sam turns back to his brother and sassily remarks. "Hey, what can I? It's riveting TV" He shrugs.

"When's the last time you get a goodnight's sleep?" Y/N asks Sam, flicking some ash into the ashtray. "I don't know. A little while, I guess. It's not a big deal" Sam tries to say casually but he talked quickly so they knew he was lying. "Yeah, it is" Dean says firmly. But Sam chuckles, trying to ease the mood. "Look, I appreciate your concern guys— " Sam goes to say but Y/N cuts him off with her usual smartass response.

"Oh I'm not concerned about you. It's your job as my best friend and as Dean's brother to keep our asses alive. So we need you sharp" Y/N says sarcastically and Sam just rolls his eyes nodding. "Seriously, you still having nightmares about Jess?" She asks as she takes her last drag from her cigarette, outing it in the ashtray, getting up to sit back down on her bed.

Sam sighs and takes a seat next to her. "Yeah" he answers honestly, handing a coffee to her and Dean as he talks. "But it's not just her, it's everything. I just forgot, you know, this job. Man it gets to you" Sam stresses. "Well you can't let it, you can't bring it home like that" Dean says nonchalantly sipping his coffee.

Y/N side-eyes Dean while Sam looks at his brother like 'huh'. "Wonderful advice, Shakespeare". Y/N says sarcastically scoffing "So, what, all this, it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asks and Dean shakes his head.

"Never? You're never afraid?" Y/N asks shocked. "No, not really. Are you?" Dean asks sipping his coffee and Sam chuckles, leaning over onto Deans bed, he pulls out the knife below his pillow, waving it triumphantly in the air, with a 'So what's this?' look on his face.

Y/N eyebrows shoot up at the irony. Knowing she has her gun below her pillow but she can admit she's afraid of whatever is out there but doesn't have a choice other than to kill every evil bastard.

"That's not fear. That is precaution" Dean argues. "Alright whatever. I'm too tired to argue" Sam says. "Well I'm not" Y/N interjects. "So you're telling me. Nothing scares you? Not the thought of anything or the sight of anything" Y/N asks, sipping her coffee. Dean just shrugs.

"Not even the thought of losing those you love? Because honestly that scares me" She says and Dean can't help but agree. "Okay, you got me there, princess" He says chuckling at the fact that she called him out in a debate and won.

He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked, sipping her coffee with her cute little bed head, sticking all over the place. Y/N noticed the same with Dean, his hair sticks all over the place as he sips his coffee, his eyes not leaving hers.

A blush creeps up on Y/N face when she realizes Dean is staring at her. She can't help the butterflies that begin to flutter in her stomach.

Their little staring contest is cut off by her phone ringing. An unknown number, looking at it weirdly and back up at the boys. She flips the phone up, answering. "Hello?"

"Y/N? It's Jerry Panowski" She shakes her head at the boys who are listening in, still not knowing who it is. "You and your dad helped me out a couple years back". When the man says this, her memory refreshes. "Oh, right yeah. Up in...uh.. Kittanning, Pennsylvania. The poltergeist thing" She says in recognition.

"It's not back, is it?" She asks warily. "No. No, thank god, no" Jerry immediately says chuckling. "But it's something else, and, uh, well. I think it could be a lot worse" Jerry says. "What is it?" She asks concerned. "Can we talk in person?" Jerry asks and she looks up at the boys.

________________________________

The Impala and Harley make their way over to Pennsylvania. While riding over, Y/N starts thinking that maybe she should park Quinn up at one of their safehouses to save on gas and just ride with the boys. That is until they find their dads and go their separate ways.

The thought of having to part ways with them saddens her a bit. Dismissing the thought, she decides to tell the boys on their pit stop for fuel and food that they can drop Quinn off in her Indiana safehouse, as it's on the way to Pennsylvania and they can just go with Baby. They agree, no hesitation.

________________________________

"Thanks for making the trip so quick" Jerry, the man who called Y/N, says gratefully her and the boys as they follow behind him. "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around" He chuckles turning to the boys, "Y/N and her dad really helped me out" Jerry says.

"Yeah, she told us. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asks. "Poltergeist? I love that movie!" A random guy in the background says causing Y/N and Dean to snicker. "Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking" Jerry orders the young man. Before turning to Sam, the trio still walking behind Jerry.

"Damn right it was a poltergeist. Practically tore our house apart" Jerry says. "Tell you something...." He then turns to Y/N "...if it wasn't for you and your dad. I probably wouldn't be alive" And she smiles at this, the boys giving her a look of impress.

"Y/N said you were off to college right?" Jerry asks Sam and he nods. "Yeah, I was. I'm taking some time off" Sam says. "She was real proud proud of you. I could tell. She talked about you all the time" Jerry says. Sam is shocked at this and Dean side eyes him. "She did?" Sam looks off at his best friend smirking and she scoffs. Waving it off.

"Yeah, you bet she did" Jerry confirms and Sam smiles at the thought of Y/N bragging about him going if to college. "Don't give me that look Sammy, I'll still kick your ass" She half threatens her best friend and he chuckles. Dean can't help but feel a bit jealous at their bond, feeling like he's never gotten close enough to Y/N or accomplished anything big enough for her to brag about him.

"Oh, hey, you know. I tried to get ahold of f/n but I couldn't. How's he doing anyway?" Jerry asks. The boys and y/n share a look before Dean says, "He's wrapped up in a job right now, with our dad" lying casually. "Well, we're missing the old man...but we get Sam and Dean. Even trade huh?" He jokes, turning around, walking backwards and turning back. They all laugh.

Sam goes to deny but y/n says, "Even better, trust me. They're the best I know" She smiles. "I got something I want you guys to hear" Jerry says, leading them into his office.

"I listened to this. And well, it sounded like it was up your alley" Jerry says and he puts the CD into the player. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours". He says as the CD slides in. Sam, Dean and Y/N listen intently.

"Mayday. Mayday. Repeat. This is United Britannia 2485 requesting immediate instructions and help" says the captain.

"United Britannia flight 2485, we copy your mayday" the responder immediately followed.

"We may be experiencing some kind of mechanical failure...."

Before the captain's sentence is finished, it's taken over by a hissing and growling noise that honestly doesn't sound remotely humane.

"Took off from here, crashed about 200 miles south. Now they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow, nobody knows why. Over 100 people onboard, only seven got over alive" Jerry explains the situation and it shocks them. "Pilot was one. His name was Chuck Lambert, he's a good friend of mine. Chuck is....Well he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault" Jerry says sadly.

"You don't think it was" Y/N states. "No, I don't" Jerry admits. "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, a list of survivors—" Sam begins but Dean cuts him off. "Right. And anyways we could take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asks. "The other stuff is no problem but the wreckage...kids, the NTSB had it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance" Jerry says.

"It's no problem" Y/N smiles at him, ensuring they'll be fine.

Later we're outside a store named "Copy Jack". Y/N and Sam are growing impatient of waiting for Dean, leaning against Baby. "Dude, you've been in there forever" Y/N grumbles annoyed and he flashes three fake IDs in their faces. "You can't rush perfection" Dean says sassily and Y/N roll her eyes. "Homeland Security?" Sam questions, taking his ID and Y/N takes hers. "That's pretty illegal. Even for us man" Y/N says and Dean smirks. Heading to the drivers seat.

"Yeah, well. It's something new. People haven't seen it a thousand times" He jumps into the drivers seat. Sam takes shotgun and Y/N jumps in the back. "Alright. So what do you got?" Dean asks Sam as he pulls out his laptop. "Well, there's definitely E.V.P. on the cockpit voice recorder. Listen" Sam clicks the laptop, playing the recording.

It's basically a bunch of static accompanied with a weird voice saying "No survivors".

"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors?" She asks, confused. "Got me" Sam shrugs. "So what do you guys think? A haunted flight?" Dean questions. "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships. Like Phantom Travelers. Or remember flight 401?" Sam explains while me and Dean nod and agree.

"Right. The one that crashed. And the airline salvaged its parts, put it in other planes. Then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights" Y/N explains the story of Flight 401, Dean looks at her smiling at her beauty and brains. "What?" She asks innocently. "You're such a nerd" He snorts. She rolls her eyes. "Shut it, charming" she huffs.

Sam shakes his head at them, chuckling. "Maybe we got a similar deal" Sam says. "So, survivors, who do you wanna talk to first?" Dean asks Sam and Y/N, looking at the list Jerry gave them. "Third on the list, Max Jaffe" Sam immediately responds. "Why him?" Y/N asks. "We'll for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did" Dean turns to Sam after he says this. "What makes you say that?" Dean asks.

"Well, I spoke to his mother and she told me where to find him" He says

________________________________

Now in the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital, the boys and y/n introduce theirselves as Homeland Security so they can get in to question Max Jaffe.

"I don't understand, I already spoke with Homeland Security" Max says, confused as they stroll through the yard of the hospital. "Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could answer a couple questions" Dean says professionally. "Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual" Sam asks Max.

"Like what?" Max responds and Y/N explains further. "Strange lights. Weird noises, maybe. Voices" He looks at them weirdly before denying it. "No, nothing". they all take a seat at one of the tables in the yard. "Hmm, Mr Joffe-" Dean starts but Max corrects him. "Jaffe".

"Jaffe. You checked yourself in here, right?" Dean corrects himself and Max nods. "Can we ask why?" Y/N asks gently. "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash" Max says as if it's obvious. "Uh-huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?" Dean asks probingly and Max ceases up. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore" Max says getting agitated.

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what" Dean presses. "No. No, I was delusional. Seeing things" Max denies the fact. "He was seeing things" Dean says plainly, looking at Y/N and Sam and they tilt their heads at his bluntness and annoyed behavior. Turning to Max, Y/N softens her gaze, "It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please" Y/N says calmly and Max takes a deep breath.

"There was this man. And uh, he had these.....eyes, these, uh....black eyes" Max shakily begins to explain, the boys and Y/N exchange a look.. "And I saw him. Or, I thought I saw him...." Max trails off. "What?" Dean urges him to continue. "He opened the emergency exit. But that's— that's impossible, right? I mean I looked it up. There's something like 2 tons of pressure on that door" This statement from Max catches their attention.

"Yeah" Dean says. "This man, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage" Sam asks and Max looks at them like they're crazy. "What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right infront of me"

________________________________

"So here we are, George Phelps, seat 20C" Sam says as they pull up to the man who supposedly opened the emergency exit door mid flight. "Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight" Dean says as they all exit the Impala, shutting our doors and leaning on her.

"Not if you're human" Y/N adds, leaning against Baby to face Dean. "But maybe this guy George was something else" She says. "Some kind of creature, maybe? In human form?" Sam interjects, leaning on Baby. "Does that look like a creatures lair to you?" Dean asks and Sam turns around looking at the house.

"This is your late husband?" Sam picks up a picture of George Phelps, asking the newly widowed Mrs. Phelps. "Yes, that was my George" Mrs. Phelps confirms, her tone croaky as if she had been crying. "And you said he was a dentist?" Y/N asks kindly. "Uh-huh. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Did you know that he was petrified to fly?" Mrs. Phelps tells them.

"For him to go like that..." She says sadly, trailing off. "How long were you married?" Sam asks softly and she smile a bit thinking about it. "Thirteen years".

"And all that time...did you ever notice anything strange about him? Anything out of the ordinary?" Y/N asks and Deans eyes flicker from her to Mrs. Phelps. "Well....he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean" Mrs. Phelps answers and the trio is bit disappointed.

"I mean, it goes without saying, it doesn't make any sense" Sam says as they leave the Phelps residence. "Yeah, a middle aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified" Y/N says, as they walk back to baby. "You know what we need to do is get inside NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage" Dean says, nodding excited.

"Okay, but if we're gonna go that route, we better look the part" Y/N smirks, wiggling her eyebrows at the boys.

________________________________

Sam, Dean and Y/N walk out of a store named "Morts Unisex For Style". Now dressed up. Sam and Dean in black and white formal suits. Y/N in a black blazer, white blouse and a pencil skirt.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers" Dean says, tugging at his suit uncomfortably . "No, you don't. You look more like a seventh grader at his first dance" Sam teases and Y/N snickers. High-fiving him. Dean rolls his eyes, looking down at his outfit.

"I hate this thing" Dean grumbles as they walk back to the car. "You want into that warehouse or not?" Y/N shoots back. She had to stop herself from drooling when she saw Dean in his suit. She never realized she had a thing for suits till she saw Dean in his. She was always more a leather jacket, tattoos and piercings gal.

"Ohh chin up charming, chicks dig suits. You'll be fine" Y/N says, stepping infront of him, fixing his tie, looking into his eyes. She blushes a bit when he winks at her. "You don't look bad yourself, Princess" He smirks at her.

Dean kept himself from gawking at her. How that pencil skirt hugged her waist and her curves tightly. "Damn straight, I look hot" She says cockily, winking back, taking her hands off his tie. 'You're damn right you do' Dean thinks, hiding his blush.

"Guys, enough flirting, we gotta go" Sam groans, from the passenger seat of Baby, sticking his head out the window. Y/N rolls her eyes. "Not flirting, dipshit" She huffs, jumping in the backseat. "Whatever, crackhead" Sam retorts back, snorting. "Settle down children" Dean says in a playful fatherly tone, putting the Impala in drive. "Jerk" "Asshat" Sam and Y/N say in unison, glaring at Dean who laughs.

________________________________

They're now at the warehouse, game faces on, flashing their badges to the security who nods and let's them in.

Now surrounded by large scraps of metal from the wreckage. Dean pulls out an old Walkman. "What is that?" Sam asks. "It's an EMF meter. Reads electromagnetic frequencies" Dean explains. "Yeah, I know what and EMF meter is. But why does that look like a busted-up Walkman?" Sam asks.

"Because that's what I made it out of. It's homemade" Dean says, smiling proudly holding it up. Sam looks at his brother judgement on his face, raising his eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see that" And Deans smile drops.

"Don't worry buddy, I think it's cool" Y/N pats his shoulder, reassuring him and his smile's back. His heart leaping at her touch. They walk around, using the EMF reader to scan the wreckage. It starts beeping when they reach the emergency door handle.

"Check out the emergency door handle" Dean says, Y/N leans over, scratching its surface. A yellow powder falls off. "What is this stuff?" She asks. "One way to find out" Sam says, taking his knife out and a little bag, scraping some off into it as Y/N dusts her fingers.

They hear some footsteps coming their way and take that as signal to beat it. Finding their way to the exit they walk out at a decent pace, until an alarm starts blurring. Dean throws his jacket as the reach the fence and jump it. Pulling it off after, "Wow, these monkey suits do come in handy" Dean says out of breath, running off.

Sam and Y/N run behind him. "Told ya!" Y/N retorts as they jump into baby and make way.

________________________________

They meet back with Jerry, who takes them to the lab in the facility he works at to examine the yellow dust they found. Looking under the microscope, "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfer" He tells them. "You sure?" Sam asks. "Take a look for yourself. If you kids would excuse me, I have an idiot to fire" Jerry says walking out.

"Hey, Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck are you doing?!" Jerry shouts at the incompetent employee and Y/N goes over to look under the microscope. "Hmm. Not many things leave a sulfuric residue" Y/N says knowingly, looking at the boys. "Demonic possession" Sam says. "It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open an emergency hatch" Dean says.

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible" Sam sighs. "Yeah but this goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person but to use it to take down an entire airplane" Dean says, resting his hands on his hips. Y/N shakes her head, holding back a laugh at the reference.

"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asks them. "Never" Dean says and Y/N shakes her head.

________________________________

Back at the motel, the walls are plastered with research in the case. Sam is on his laptop by the desk, Dean is on his bed with a book and pen in his hand and Y/N is on her laptop, next to Sam, researching.

"So, every religion and world culture has the concept of demons and possession. Right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it" Sam says, leaning back in his chair. Dean and Y/N look up from their books and laptops. Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this" Dean says.

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease" Sam explains. "And this one causes plane crashes?" Y/N raises her eyebrow.

Sam sighs, looking back at his laptop. "Alright. So, what, we have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" Dean gets up, walking over to Sam and Y/N. "Yeah" Sam says, stumped. "And you know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Y/N says looking at the boys and Dean chuckles, trying to mask his fear.

He walks towards his bed but Sam asks, "What?". Dean scratches his head and turns to them, "I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish dad was here" Dean stresses, scratching his head. "Yeah. Me too", Y/N says sadly.

Y/N's cell phone starts ringing. "Hello?" She answers, flipping it up. "Y/N, it's Jerry" Jerry says over the phone. "Oh, hey, Jerry." She says. "My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead" Jerry says and her face drops, the boys look over at her concerned. "Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" She says sorrowfully.

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. Plane went down" Jerry explains. "Where'd this happen?" Y/N asks. "About 60 miles west of here, near Nazareth" Jerry says and she takes a breath. "I'll try to ignore the irony of that" She mutters.

"I'm sorry?" Jerry asks confused. "Nothing, Jerry. Hang in there alright? We'll catch up with you soon" She says, hanging up. Looking at them. "Another crash?" Sam asks. "Yeah, let's go".

"Where?" Dean asks. "Nazareth" She says.

________________________________

They go to the crash, pick up a sample of the yellow powder to confirm if it's sulfur and head back to Jerry's. Now looking under a microscope, Dean asks Jerry, "Sulfur?" And he nods in confirmation. "Well, that's great" Dean says, turning to Sam and Y/N who're sitting by the desk.

"Alright, so that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him" Dean says to them. "With all due respect to Chuck...uh, if that's the case, that would be the good news" Y/N says to Jerry, respectfully. "What's the bad news?" Dean asks.

"Chucks plane went down exactly after 40 minutes in the flight" Sam interjects, "And, get this, so did flight 2485" He adds and Deans face drops, along with Y/N's. "40 minutes. What does that mean?" Jerry asks, confused. "It's Biblical numerology. You know, Noah's Ark, it rained for 40 days. The number means death" Y/N explains.

"I went back, and there were six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly 40 minutes in" Sam says. "Any survivors" Dean asks slightly surprised. "No. Or not until now, at least. Not until flight 2485, for some reason" Sam shakes his head. "On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the E.V.P. said?" Sam asks.

"No survivors" Y/N quotes the recording and Dean sighs. "If it's going after all the survivors, it's trying to finish the job" Dean realizes.

________________________________

Sam, Dean and Y/N are in the Impala headed to the airport. Y/N is in the backseat, pretending to be a call agent doing surveys, checking with the survivors to see if they're planning on flying anytime soon.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our surgery, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks" She says in a formal voice before hanging up. "Alright. That takes Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway off the list. They're not flying anytime soon" Y/N tells the boys as she crosses the names off the list.

"So our only wild card is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker." Dean suggests. "Right." Sam says. "Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at 8 p.m. It's her first night back on the job" Y/N explains. "Huh, sounds like just our luck" Dean says, looking at Y/N in the rear view mirror.

Her head is down as she scans the list, her eyebrows creases whenever she's focused on something. A fact Dean found very cute of her.

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel" Sam's concerned voice breaks Dean out of his thoughts, returning his gaze from Y/N to his brother. "Don't worry about it, man. Hey, princess. Why don't you call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can head her off at the pass?" Dean says to Y/N and she lifts her head up.

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off" Y/N says propping her hand on the door, rubbing her head. "God, we're never gonna make it fellas" She says worried. "Oh we'll make it" Dean says determined, hitting the gas.

________________________________

They make it to the airport just in the nick of time. Running in to look at the flight schedule. Their eyes scan the TVs.

"Right there. They're boarding in 30 minutes" Sam says out of breath, pointing at the flight time. "Okay. We still have some cards to play. I need to find a phone" Dean says, going to look for a telephone box. Y/N and Sam follow behind.

"Airport Services" The woman on the phone says. "Gate 13" Dean says into the phone. "Who are you calling, sir?" She asks. "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on the flight..um..Flight 424" He says into the phone. "Come on" Dean says impatiently.

"Amanda Walker. Amanda Walker, you have a phone call. White courtesy phone, gate 13." Another woman over the PA system draws to Amandas attention. Picking up the phone, Amanda answers, "This is Amanda Walker"

"Ms. Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hatfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here." Dean says professionally, as Sam and Y/N lean closer to him, trying to hear the conversation. "Nothing serious. Just a minor car accident, but she was injured so-" Dean gives his fake explanation but Amanda cuts him off.

"Wait, wait. That's impossible. I just got off the phone with her" Amanda says and Dean pauses, stumped, caught in his lie. "You what?" He asks, bewildered. "Five minutes ago. She's at her house cramming for a final. Who is this?" Amanda asks, now suspicious and annoyed.

"Uh, well, must be some mistake" He gives a lame excuse causing Y/N to roll her eyes, turning from Y/N and Sam. They move closer to hear. "How would you even know I was here?" Amanda asks suspiciously. "Is this one of Vince's friends?" She asks and Dean just goes with it. "Guilty as charged" Dean chuckles.

"Wow, this is unbelievable" Amanda exaggerates. "He's really sorry" Dean continues to go with it. "Well you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?" She says angrily. "Yes, but he really needs to see you tonight. So-" Dean tries to convince her but she won't budge.

"No, I'm sorry, it's too late" Amanda says, shaking her head. "Don't be like that. I mean come on. The guys a mess. Really it's pathetic." He tries to sway her and it seems to work a bit. "Really?" She asks hopefully. "Oh, yeahhh" Dean assures her. "Look, I gotta go. Tell him call me when I land" She says and hangs up

"No. No wait Amanda. Amanda!" Dean calls out to her but she already hung up. Dean rests the phone back, pissed. "Damn it! That was so close" He says, frustrated. Sam shakes his head saying. "Alright, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane" And Y/N nods her head.

"Now, just hold on a second" Dean tries to reason. "Dean. That plane is leaving with over 100 passengers on board. And if we're right, that plane is gonna crash" Y/N counters. "I know" Dean says, frightened. This makes Y/N's eyebrows quirk up and it dawns in her. He's scared.

"Okay, we get on the plane, find that demon and exorcise it. Look I'll get the tickets. You go get whatever you can out of the trunk will make it by security. Meet me back here in five minutes" Sam quickly maps out a plan, not realizing his brother is scared. Dean doesn't move, looking in between the both of them anxiously. "Are you okay?" Sam asks.

"No, not really" Dean croaks out. "What? What's wrong" Sam asks confused. "He's scared" Y/N interjects, biting back a smirk. Remembering how Dean said earlier that nothing scared him. Deans face drops and Sam looks at his brother surprised. "You have a problem with flying?"

"Well it's never been an issue until now!" Dean counters. "You're joking right?" Sam asks, bewildered. Y/N holds back a snicker, though she shouldn't be laughing she can't help but find the situation ironic. "Do I look like I'm joking?!" Dean exclaims. "Why do you think I drive everywhere?" He justifies his argument. Y/N bursts out laughing, not able to hold it back anymore. Causing Sam to laugh, belting over holding his stomach.

"It's not funny guys!" Dean whisper yells, embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry but it's just. Earlier you were all macho man. And now you're scared. It's ironic" Y/N gasps between laughs. They calm down almost instantly. "Alright. Okay, we'll go" Y/N says, wiping her tears. "What?" Dean asks. "We'll do this one on our own" Sam adds, gesturing between him and Y/N.

"What are you two, nuts!? You said it yourself y/n/n, the planes gonna crash" He says. "Dean, we can do it together. We're not seeing a third option here" Sam defends, still trying to hold back a laugh. "Come on! Really? Man..." Dean says, his voice shaking, going up a octave. He looks around nervously, putting his hands on his hips.

________________________________

"Flight attendants, please crosscheck and prepared for departure" The pilot says over the speaker on the plane. Sam, Dean and Y/N are currently occupying a row on the plane. Y/N in the middle of the boys with Dean on the end. Dean is nervously reading a pamphlet while Sam looks over at his brother amused.

The plane prepares for take off and Dean begins to panic a bit, putting away the pamphlet. "Just try to relax" Sam says soothingly. "Just try to shut up" Dean snaps back and Sam laughs. Deans eyes widen when the plane starts to rumble from take off, Sam smirks looking at his brother.

"Here" Y/N says softly, taking Deans hand in hers. He looks over at her shocked, "I've got you" She in a nurturing tone, giving him a small smile, feeling a little bad for laughing earlier, now looking at Deans panicked state.

He takes a deep breath, looking into her eyes. Feeling a weight lift off of him from her touch, a sense of calmness takes him over a bit and he leans back in his seat. Sam notices this and smiles at their little moment.

A little into the flight, Dean's hand hasn't left Y/N's yet. He feels the panic coming back a bit so he starts humming and Y/N leans closer to hear. "You humming Metallica?" She asks, amused. "Calms me down" He says quickly. "Look charming. I get you're nervous, alright? But you gotta stay focused" She says calmly and he nods. "Okay" Dean says. "How long we got, Sammy?" He asks his brother.

"We got 32 minutes and counting to track this thing down or whoever it's possessing anyway and preform a full on exorcism" Sam says. "On a crowded plane. That'll be easy" Dean retorts sarcastically. "Just take it one step at a time, alright?" Y/N says gently, caressing the back of his hand with her thumb.

Even in the midst, Dean is liking this calm, nurturing side of Y/N. He usually sees her act like this towards grieving families but never really towards him. Maybe they should go on planes more often? He thinks. Nope, scratch that.

"Now who is it possessing?" Y/N says, looking around the plane for any telltale signs. "Well, it's usually gonna be someone with some sort weakness. You know? A chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Someone with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress" Dean explains.

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up" Sam says and Dean beckons an attendant over. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?" He asks. "No I'm not" She says nicely. "Oh, my mistake" He says apologetically and she walks off. He looks behind to see another attendant that has to be Amanda.

"Alright. Well, that's gotta be Amanda back there. So I'll go talk to her and I'll get a read on her mental state" Dean says, Sam and Y/N look back at her. "Right, what is she's already possessed?" Y/N asks. "There's ways to test that" Dean says, opening his bag and pulling out a bottle. "I brought holy water" He says holding it up but Sam reaches over, grabbing it.

"No. I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God" Sam says and Dean looks impressed, "Oh, nice" He unclips his belt, letting go of Y/N's hand gently but she stops him. "Why don't I go? You stay and relax a bit" She says sweetly. Dean nods, obliging and Y/N gets up to go to the back.

He feels a bit empty now that she isn't holding his hand for some reason. Y/N feels a bit sad also but remains focused on the mission.

"Hey" Sam calls her back. "What?" She asks. "Say it in Latin" He tells her. "I know" She answers and goes to walk off. "Hey!" He calls her back. "What?" She comes back again, slightly annoyed. "Uh. In Latin, it's Christo" He says. "Dude, I know. I'm not an idiot!" She grumbles at him, walking to the back of the plane.

Dean chuckles a bit at her outburst while Sam looks at his brother smirking. "What?" He asks Sam. "Nothing. Just wish I had someone to calm me down mid flight too..." Sam pokes fun at Dean and he rolls his eyes. "Shut up" he growls, hiding his blush. Sam puts his hands up in surrender laughing. "Hey man, I'm just saying" He laughs.

The plane jolts a bit and Dean clutches onto to his seat in fear. Sam reaches over the seat and places his hand on Dean's. "Here, I've got you" Sam snorts in laughter, mimicking his best friends words from earlier and Dean slaps his hand away quickly.

"Touch me again and I'll put bleach in your shampoo" Dean grumbles and Sam just laughs hysterically. Dean has a small smile on his face that doesn't go unnoticed by Sam. 'These two are too stubborn for their own good' Sam thinks to himself.

Meanwhile, Y/N is at the back of the plane. "Hi" She smiles at Amanda who smiles back. "Hi, May I help you with something?" Amanda asks nicely as she's fixing cups on the cart. "No. I'm just a bit of an uneasy flier. Makes me feel better when I walk around a little bit" Y/N says casually.

"Oh, it happens to the best of us" Amanda says knowingly. "Of course, you being a stewardess, I guess flying comes easy to you" She says and Amanda chuckles. "Yeah, you'd be surprised".

"Really? You're a nervous flier?" She asks and Amanda nods. "Yeah, maybe. Little bit" She says smiling.

"Now, how is it being a stewardess, you're scared to fly?" Y/N asks curious. "It's kind of a long story" Amanda says and Y/N apologizes. "Right. I'm sorry for asking". "It's okay" Amanda says softly but Y/N continues. "You ever consider other employment?"

"No. Look, everybody's scared of something. I just, uh...I'm not gonna let it hold me back" She says honestly. "Huh. That's really brave I'd you" Y/N nods and Amanda looks down smiling. "Christo" Y/N mutters. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Amanda asks, looking up. Y/N looks at her in face confusion, quirking up her eyebrows chuckling.

"Christo?" She says as if it were a question, a smile on her face. "I didn't— I didn't—" Amanda stutters, confused. A pleasant smile still on her face. "Nothing, never mind" Y/N gives up, her face dropping as she walks out going back to her seat.

"Alright. Well she's gotta be the most well adjusted person on the planet" She says, sitting back between the boys. "You said Christo?" Sam asks. "Yeah" She sighs, buckling back up. "And?" Dean asks, unconsciously reaching for her hand.

"There's no demon in her. There no demon getting in her" She says, noticing Deans reaching for her hand. She takes it, caressing the back of his palm with her thumb soothingly again and he relaxes a bit. "So if it's on the plane, it can be anyone, anywhere" Sam says, looking around.

The plane jolts more this time due to turbulence and Dean panics. "Come on, that can't be normal!" He exclaims. "Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence" She says gently. And he looks back at her, "Y/N, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like, I'm 4" Dean snaps at her. "You need to calm down" She says, trying to keep her cool.

"Well I'm sorry, I can't!" Dean grumbles. "Yes, you can" She says calmly and he glares at her. "Y/N, stow the touchy-feely, self help yoga crap. It's not helping" He growls angrily and she snaps, squeezing his hand that's still in hers without realizing it.

"Listen to me, Winchester. If you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession. You've basically got a sign plastered to your ass saying 'Pick me, Choose me'. So you need to calm yourself down, right now! Cuz if you don't, that demon is gonna make you his personal bitch so hold my hand, take a deep breath and relax!" She growls back firmly.

Dean feels her hand squeezing his and winces a bit. She loosens her grip and he takes a deep breath. "Good" She says. "I'm sorry for being so snappy at you, princess" Dean says apologetically and Sam's eyebrows cock at this. His brother apologizing? Damn he's whipped. "Everyone's scared of something, even you charming" Y/N repeats Amanda's words to her earlier, giving him a small smile of reassurance.

"I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum" Sam cuts in, flipping through his book. "What do we have to do?" Dean asks. "It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful" Sam begins to explain. "More powerful?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah" Sam answers. "How?" Dean asks. "We'll it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own" Sam says. "Oh, and why is that a good thing?" Dean asks. "Well, because the second part, sends the bastard back to hell, once and for all" Sam says.

"First things first. We gotta find it" Y/N says. Dean gets up from his seat with an EMF reader and begins scanning the passengers subtly while walking down the aisle. A few people look at him like he's crazy but there's not beep on the reader.

Sam and Y/N walk up behind him and he doesn't notice him. Resting his hand on his shoulder, Dean jumps. "Oh, man, don't do that!" Dean exclaims.

"Anything?" Sam asks. "No, nothing. How much time we got?" He asks. "Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody" Y/N says, checking her watch. "Maybe the things just not on the plane" Dean suggests. "You believe that?" Sam asks. "Well, I will if you will" He says and Y/N rolls her eyes. Suddenly the EMF goes off, in the direction of the co-pilot.

"What? What is it?" Sam asks Dean. Y/N notices the red right on the EMF, looking in the direction Dean is. "Christo" She says and the co-pilot turns to them. His eyes flashing black, walking into the cockpit, locking the door.

They walk decide to ask Amanda for help, walking to the back of the plane. "She's not gonna believe this" Sam says as they walk to the back. "Twelve minutes, dude!" Dean informs his brother. "Oh hi. Flights not to bumpy for you, I hope" Amanda says turning around to Y/N.

"Actually that's kinda what we need to talk to you about" Y/N says smiling as Sam closes the curtains behind them. "Um, okay, what can I do for you?" Amanda asks nicely. "Alright this is gonna sound nuts but we just don't have time for the whole 'the truth is out there' speech—" Dean goes to say but Sam cuts him off. "Look, we know you were in flight 2485" Sam says and her face drops.

"Who are you people?" Amanda asks, suspiciously. "We've spoken to some of thes other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't mechanical failure" He says and Dean continues. "And we need your help to stop it from happening again, here, now" He ordersZ

"I'm sorry, I'm very busy. I have to go—" Amanda stutters, trying to walk between them to get away but Y/N holds her back by her shoulder. "Woah woah woah, wait a second" Y/N says, trying to get her attention and she steps back fearfully. "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me" Y/N reassures her.

"The pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert, he's dead" Y/N tells her and she shakes her head in disbelief. "What? Chuck is dead?" Amanda asks surprised and scared. "He died in a plane crash. That's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?" Dean asks her, rhetorically and she stutters.

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight too" Sam tries to quickly explain. "Amanda you have to believe us" Y/N pleads with her. And she's hesitant but begins to recall the flight "On...on 2485, there was this man. He had these eyes.."

"Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about" Sam confirms what she saw was real. "Well I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?" She asks. "Get the copilot, we need you to bring him back here" Dean tells her. "Why? What does he have to do with anything?" Amanda asks, confused and frustrated.

"We don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him, okay?" Dean says quickly. "How am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the copilot-?" Amanda starts but Sam cuts her off. "Whatever it takes. Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken. Whatever will get him out of that cockpit" Sam says quickly Z

"Do you know that I could lose my job if-" Amanda begins again but this time Y/N cuts her off. "You'll lose a lot more than that if you don't help us out" Y/N says pleadingly and she looks between all of him before agreeing. "Okay" She says and walks out, towards the cockpit. Knocking on the door and luring him out.

The copilot begins to follow begins her. Sam takes out John's journal and flips to the page of the exorcism, Dean takes out the holy water and Y/N takes out her iron knuckle ring, just for good measure.

The possessed copilot enters, "Now, what's the problem?" He asks and Y/N instantly right hooks him with her ring. Dean grabs him, lifts him up and slams him back down on the ground. Duck taping his mouth shut so he can't smoke out. "What are you doing?! You said you were just gonna talk to him!" Amanda panics, seeing the trio attack the copilot.

"We are gonna talk to him" Y/N says ruggedly as Dean pours holy water on the copilot, his skin sizzling and burning from the touch causing his clothes to singe. "Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?" Amanda can't believe what she's witnessing. "Look, we need you calm. We need you outside the curtain. Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that?" Sam gently asks while instructing her. But shes panicking at the scene unfolding in-front of her.

"Can you do that? Amanda? Amanda?" Sam tries to get her attention. "Okay. Okay." She says, fearfully, leaving. Y/N lays another punch on the copilot while Dean holds him down. "Hurry up Sam, I don't knock how much longer we can hold him" Dean struggles trying to hold him, along with Y/N. Sam drenches him in holy water again and starts chanting the exorcism in Latin.

The demon breaks out of their hold, knocking the holy water out of Sam's hand, kicking Dean and Y/N off of him and shoving Sam against the wall. Dean and Y/N recover, holding him back down as Sam chants the exorcism again. Kicking Dean and Y/N off again. He rips the duct tape off and he grabs Sam by his collar and says, "I know what happened to your girlfriend" In a demonic voice.

"She must have died screaming. Even know, she's burning!!". He taunts Sam laughing maniacally and Y/N reaches over, punching him again. She and Dean hold him down, "Sam!" Dean yells at his brother to continue, the hate in Sam's face while looking at the demon building.

He continues chanting the exorcism. Dean and Y/N struggle to hold him down. Dropping the book to hold him down, he yells, "I got him!" The demon kicks John's journal into the aisle. But the demon escapes from the copilots body, smoking out from his mouth and goes into the vents. "Where'd it go?" Sam asks.

"Into the plane" Y/N points to the vent. "Hurry up, we gotta finish it" Dean taps Sam on his shoulder and he goes to retrieve the journal but the plane begins falling rapidly. Passengers screaming, tossing them from side to side. Sam rushes to get the journal but it slides under a seat.

Dean and Y/N try to balance themselves but they fall over at the back of the airplane. Dean falls onto Y/N. He holds onto her for dear life, clutching onto her thinking they're gonna die. She wraps her arms around him trying to calm him down even in this situation, his head in her chest, screaming, as the plane falls. Y/N began praying silently in her mind, she was never a religious person but if she needed to pray. Now was the time.

Outside in the aisle, Sam retrieves the journal that was under a seat. Opening the book, Sam chants the exorcism at the top of his lungs. Lightening sparks throughout the outside of the airplane and the plane is back on track. The demon expelled back to hell.

The entire plane sighs a big relief at the plane stabilizing. Families checking to see if their loved ones are safe.

Dean looks up at Y/N, tears drenching her face. Her eyes are screwed shut. When she realizes the plane settled, she looks down at Dean. Crying if relief, hugging him tightly and he hugs her back even tighter.

They both get up and dust themselves off, looking through the curtains to see Sam is standing having saved the day. Dean looks at her brother shaking his head.

________________________________

The plane is now disembarked. The copilot that was possessed is on a wheelchair, wrapped in a blanket. "Sir, can you tell me what happened?" A NTSB agent asks him. "I don't know. I was walking through the airport, then it all goes blank. I don't even remember getting on the plane" The copilot explains to the agent.

"Is there anything else?" An FBI Agent asks Amanda as Sam, Dean and Y/N look on. "No, that's all" She dismisses, looking over at the trio she mouths a silent 'Thank You' to them gratefully and they nod back.

Dean turns to his brother and Y/N, "Lets get out of here" He says, walking to the exit. Y/N looks at her best friend, knowing he's worked up over what the demon said about Jess. "You okay?" She asks, concerned. "Guys..." He turns to his brother and best friend. "...it knew about Jessica" Sam says, worried.

"Sam, these things, they read minds. They lie. Alright? That's all it was." Dean assures his little brother it was all mind games while Y/N nods. "Yeah" Sam says, unconvinced. "Come on" Dean say, walking towards the exit. Y/N notices Sam doesn't move and puts her hand out for him to take. He sighs, taking it, grabbing onto her wrist and they walk towards the exit.

________________________________

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do" Jerry says to them, now outside of the facility where he worked and they nod. "A lot of people could have been killed" He says gratefully, putting his hand out to shake their hands. "I've never met the man, but I'm sure your dads gonna be proud boys" He says to Sam and Dean. "We'll see you around, Jerry"

Turning to Y/N, he gives her a hug which she gladly returns. "I know your dad is proud of you kiddo" He says patting her shoulder and she smiles. "I sure do hope so too" she says to herself softly as Jerry walks off. "He is" Dean reassures her, flashing her a wink and she hides her blush.

They all pile into the Impala and hit the road, part of Y/N misses her bike but she's also grateful she can play backseat passenger princess for a bit and catch up on some Z's.

________________________________

#spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean and sam #sam and dean #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction

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gabessquishytum · 7 months

Note

Rich bitch hob!! Hob’s husband is away a lot for work and so Hob keeps hiring Dream for contract after contract. First the sex room. Then their bedroom. Their bathroom. The pool. All Hob has to do is give his husband the occasional blowjob when he’s home and he can do basically whatever he wants with the credit card.

So Hob uses it to buy reasons for Dream to come back to his house. Thank goodness he lives in a mansion; it’ll be a while before they run out of rooms.

For Dream? This is a perfect situation. He gets paid to design some truly beautiful rooms…and fuck this neglected, pretty house-husband in every one.

Plus, turns out Hob has a major exhibitionist kink, which they discover one day when his husband calls him mid-fuck. Hob’s on his back, tied up with velvet ropes and twisted like a pretzel with his ankles by his ears and before he can stop him, Dream answers the phone and tilts it up to Hob’s head with a mean little smirk. Hob has to stammer through a conversation about his husband’s extended travel schedule while dream is pounding his prostate. Hob is so lovely and so needy that he’ll do whatever Dream wants; if Hob has a limit, Dream hasn’t found it yet.

In fact, Dream is thinking of enlisting a little help. Hob talked about taking down a wall to open up the kitchen and Dream’s brother, Destruction, is their resident demolition expert. Somehow, Dream just knows they’d get along. And maybe between the two of them they could finally tame Hob’s demanding inner brat…

HAPPY SCREAMING NOISES YEAH

I dont know why I keep imagining Hob’s rich bitch husband being Shakespeare. But as today is the anniversary of the first folio, let's go with it.

That phonecall really dials up the kinkiness of the fucking. Dream fucks Hob right at the poolside where they could be overheard or seen by anyone - this time Hob’s husband is only out for a round of golf and could come back at any second. Dream also takes Hob along to a fetish club (Hob is masked, but it's still thrilling to know that he could be recognised!) and gets him set up as a free use slut for an hour or two. Hob goes to his husband in a very good mood and is so sweet and lovely. No one can work out what can have happened to make him so happy...

The best times are definitely while Hob is home alone and his hubby is off on a trip. Dream is genuinely spending time updating the house, but there's plenty of time in between to make sure Hob is very well fucked. When Dream has something that he really needs to work on he can just tie Hob up and stuff a vibrator in his greedy hole. Or get Destruction to join them...

Destruction is just thrilled to help out! He takes great pride in a) helping to build great houses and b) taming cute sluts. Dream has basically given his brother a golden ticket. When Hob is being needy and slutty and demanding while Dream is busy trying to design a new luxury bathroom, Destruction can easily step in. He'll scoop Hob up over his shoulder, cover his mouth with one huge hand, and take the little rich bitch off somewhere else to be fucked until he's incoherent.

Between them, Dream and Destruction keep Hob drooling and satisfied. They also earn a very VERY good wage while doing it. Sometimes they almost feel bad, but... if Hob didn't have them, he'd just be fucking someone else. He's basically insatiable and if his husband can't handle him, that's just too bad 😉

#the sandman #dreamling #hobstruction #nsft #cw infidelity

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shakespearianne · 2 years

Text

How is that for a thank you ? || Eddie Munson x fem!reader (part. 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!henderson!reader

Warning: 18+smut (minors dni), use of weed, swearing, mention of death, a bit of a spoiler for season 4 (fix-it fic)

part. 2 can be found here

Summary:

“I-I couldn’t sleep.”

That sentence earned her a chuckle as Eddie ran his free hand into his wild hair, the palm laying on the back of his neck.

“Neither can I. Don’t really know why. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we almost die while saving the world less than 48 hours ago.”

“You almost die. And I saved the world plus your ass.”

“And I am now forever indebted to you, my fearless Lady Knight. But do tell, to what do I owe the gift of your presence at my humble shack?”

“Well, lucky for you my good fellow. I think I know how you can start to repay me.”

Tags: use of y/n, fem!reader, henderson!reader, reader is dustin older sister, reader saved eddie from the dermobats, and now she can't sleep so she goes to him, you can guess what happens next, use of weed, swearing, mention of death, ennemies to lovers, mild smut in part. 1 (making out, hickeys, hair pulling), heavier smut in part. 2 (dirty talk, oral (both m and f receiving), rough sex, choking, pet names, hair pulling, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tape it!!) switch!eddie, switch!reader, dumbasses in love), angst, but also fluff and tenderness, fix-it fic, season 4 ends very differently, reader is a theater kid and a Shakespeare fan.

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: I haven't written anything in like three years and I'm french so I apologize in advance for any typos or errors! but I just couldn't help myself. I mean... Eddie... Munson... so yeah, hope you enjoy it, and I'll see you for part. 2!!

Y/N Henderson could not sleep.

She had tried everything, counting sheep, reading, breathing exercises, swallowing half of her mother’s bottle of melatonin gummies and even listening to her favorite Fleetwood Mac record – their second eponymous album, her father’s last gift to her before he passed away. But even Stevie Nicks’ soothing voice was useless. Sleep was determined to escape her and every time she felt like she was on the verge of grasping it, the peaceful feeling would disappear, leaving her more and more exhausted as the hours went by.

A quick look at the electronic clock beside her bed informed her that it was now 1 a.m. and Y/N knew that she would not get any sleep this night, exactly like the one before. Truth to be told, she hadn’t been able to get a decent rest since they had been back from the Upside Down, a few days ago. Memories haunted her. Nancy, with white pupils and a stiff body. Robin, usually so talkative, but quiet as the grave she then believed they would all end into, as the two girls were putting the Molotov cocktails together. Steve, squeezing her shoulder one more time before going to the Creel House to burn Vecna to the ground, with a tender look in his eyes that made Y/N realize that they might not see each other again. Her little brother, her own blood, Dustin, screaming in terror as the dermobats made their way into the trailer. And Eddie…

Eddie, cutting the rope between the two worlds. Eddie, announcing that he was buying them more time. Eddie, riding to distract Vecna’s creatures away from them. Eddie, alone, surrounding by screeching bats, Eddie getting beaten, Eddie getting choked, Eddie tumbling on the ground…

Y/N felt a shiver roaming her entire body and tears started to build up inside her throat. She could not live this terrible moment again. She refused it. But the memory would not leave her in peace. It would find her, again and again, plaguing her. Every single detail was so deeply engraved in her very being that Y/N knew that she could live a hundred years and never forget what had happened that day.

She ran.

Towards him.

She could hear Dustin calling her, but it was cloudy, as if her little brother was so far away from her.

Nothing mattered.

Excepting him.

Him and his stupid rings, his stupid hair, his stupid guitar solo and his stupid foolish oh so ridiculously heroic ideas.

Y/N bluntly got up and without thinking, she started to strip from her pajamas (which consisted of an old Bowie tee-shirt and shorts) and started to get dressed. She kept the tee-shirt, put her favorite pair of high-waisted black pants, a jean jacket that once belonged to her dad and laced up her old Dr Martens boots. She knew what she had to do, where she had to go and who she had to see. But first, she needed to get out of her house without waking everybody up.

Y/N had never been happier that her parents decided to buy a one-story house as she carefully opened her window and exited her bedroom. She gently landed on the grass and started to jog towards the garage. She could not use the car; the noise would surely wake her mother up. So, at the ripe age of 18, Y/N found herself using her old bike, to go to a boy’s house. The thought would have made her chuckle in another circumstance, as she rode through Hawkins, finding her way back to the trailer park. The night was surprisingly warm, but as she arrived at her goal, she shivered again. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all, maybe it was a terrible mistake, maybe his uncle was here or maybe he was not here or maybe he would not want to see her or-

But still, she knocked and waited anxiously for an answer. The answer came a few seconds later, as she heard a very distinct voice starting to grunt behind the closed door.

“Jesus H. Christ, who the fuck has nothing better to do in the middle of the night than- “

Eddie stopped as soon as he saw her, the door’s handle still in his hand. His brows lightly furrowed, his full lips parting as the rest of his sentence died in his throat. But it was his eyes that caught her breath. His deep brown eyes were full of an emotion that Y/N could not quite describe – there was surprise in there, for sure, but something else, something unsure, like an unspoken question.

“Hi.” She simply said.

“Hi.” He responded, his lips now forming a soft smile

“I-I couldn’t sleep.”

That sentence earned her a chuckle as Eddie ran his free hand into his wild hair, the palm laying on the back of his neck.

“Neither can I. Don’t really know why. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we almost die while saving the world less than 48 hours ago.”

“You almost die.” She observed, folding her arms with a smirk “And I saved the world plus your ass.”

“And I am now forever indebted to you, my fearless Lady Knight.” Eddie bowed as he spoke, one hand over his heart as the other laid behind his back. “But do tell, to what do I owe the gift of your presence at my humble shack?”

His smile was now mischievous, and Y/N felt an unfamiliar knot forming in her stomach. She was suddenly grateful that the night might hide whatever shade of red had now spread out on her cheeks. She mentally cursed herself for being so… responsive and hawked to regain her composure before talking again.

“Well, lucky for you my good fellow. I think I know how you can start to repay me.”

______________________________________________________________

“Wait, you actually got Mrs O’Donnell to apologize?”

Y/N burst into laughter as Eddie suddenly repositioned himself on the couch, sitting on one of his legs to face her. She took another drag of the joint, enjoying the delicate feeling of the heavy smoke leaving her mouth to vanish into the trailer. A Black Sabbath record was playing, Eddie had insisted that smoking weed and listening to music were indivisible and strictly refused to let her choose whatever they would be listening to. “I provide the weed; I get to choose the atmosphere.” He had said and she had simply agreed, knowing that this battle was already lost.

“And rightfully so! She kept arguing that I did not understand anything about Hamlet’s monologue when it’s that fuckin’ stuck-up bitch that teaches Literature despite being completely obvious to the true meaning of William fuckin’ Shakespeare’s greatest work!”

She was extraordinary pretty when talking about something that was clearly a passion of hers, Eddie noticed. Not that Y/N wasn’t beautiful otherwise. Eddie was not completely blind to the fact that Dustin’s older sister was exquisitely charming. It was not just her looks but also the way she carried herself into the world, confident yet accessible. She was funny, a lot more than Eddie would ever admit out loud, and she was never ashamed of anything. She had proudly defended her little brother when he joined Hellfire, even offering that the club could use the classroom where the drama team created and kept their sets and accessories. Eddie knew that her family, given and chosen, meant everything to Y/N and the past few days had shown him how far she was willing to go in order to protect those she loved.

So, yeah, the saying “True beauty comes from within” wasn’t a lie when talking about Y/N Henderson. But her beauty wasn’t just the consequence of her good nature. She was smoking hot, especially with that slightly otherwise David Bowie tee-shirt – ok, her music tastes were not that bad, although not metal enough to Eddie’s taste – that was kind enough to be a little loose at the top, offering the sight of a naked shoulder.

But there was a sparkle in her eyes tonight that Eddie had never seen before. Well, perhaps that wasn’t true. Because the way she was talking – fast, with her hands dancing before her face like she was tracing mysterious shapes into the air and a voice that was higher than usual – her demeanor reminded him of another situation where she had shown a similar behavior.

She was running.

She was running towards him.

He wanted to scream, to forbid her to come close because he knew, as he saw her figure coming closer and closer to where he was laying, fighting, screaming; he knew that she was also running towards a certain death.

But still, she ran.

Eddie shook his head slightly, trying to banish the thought. But it was proving incredibly difficult, especially as the person who had occupied the entirety of his mind for the last few days and who had played the leading role in the memory that he was struggling to forget, was sitting so close to him. Even when they had brought him back from the Upside Down, wounded and barely standing, he wanted to make sure she was fine. Even when the cops had interrogated him for hours, finally leaving him be as they decided that he wasn’t so guilty after all, and that Jason Carver might had been the gruesome killer (Eddie did not know who to thank for this sudden change of heart from Hawkins police but he had a gut feeling that the order might had come from superior authorities), Eddie’s only worry had been that Dustin and her would suffer from being with him when he was brought to the hospital. She had been the only constant element in this chaotic moment and now she was smoking with him, more carefree and relaxed than he had ever saw her before.

How she had picked the shield and the spears from the ground without hesitation and launched herself towards the dermobats.

How she had roared at them, protecting Eddie with her own body.

“YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HIM, YOU DIRTY FUCKS”.

And how much Eddied had hated himself at this very moment because it was him who was supposed to protect her, not the other way around. He was supposed to be the hero, not a fuckin’ damsel in distress.

“Earth to Munson? Are you there?” It was her voice who pulled him back to reality.

“Y-Yeah, sorry ‘bout that” He picked the joint from her fingers, feeling the need for a puff “I was just busy thinking… what is the true meaning of William fuckin’ Shakespeare greatest’s work?”

Y/N chuckled, and Eddie knew it was his new favorite sound. She took the joint back, took the last drag before gently pressing it in the ashtray that was laying between them. She mimicked his posture, and they were now face to face, each with an arm laying on the back of the couch and Eddie realized that their hands were so close that, if he wanted, he could graze her fingers without even reaching.

“Well, Hamlet is… not the happiest dude of Denmark.”

“Understandably.” Eddie assented “I mean, didn’t his mom fucked his uncle and killed his dad?”

“Yeah, yeah she did.” Y/N shot a smile so bright that Eddie mentally thanked his junior self for actually reading the damn play “So, we got this poor kid who, if you want my honest opinion, was already dealing with a lot of shit. But now, he sees his dead father’s ghost and he realizes that everything he thought to be true was a lie.”

“Like discovering that your town sits on the top of another dimension.” Eddie couldn’t help but joking, knowing it would earn him another precious smile, but this time it came accompanied by a giggle.

“Exactly. Except we have electricity, and you are no Prince of Denmark.” Y/N responded fondly, nestling her face in her hand, resting her elbow on the couch.

“But I am the Prince of Metal, am I not?” He winked and Y/N rolled her eyes

“Shut up Munson, you’re barely a peasant.” But he couldn’t help but notice that she was biting her lips, suppressing another laughter

“Oh come on Henderson! Don’t tell me you didn’t think that my inter-dimensional rendition of Master of Puppets was out of this world!”

“Yeah, it was-“ she finally admitted

“Aha !”

“-because we were literally in another world, you moron!”

An outbreak of laughter found them as their shared hilarity took over for a few minutes. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so genuinely, so easily. It was not the weed, it couldn’t be. There was something else here, something without a name and Eddie found himself wondering if, perhaps, he had indeed died in the Upside Down and all of this was just a dream. A very nice, extremely pleasant dream.

“Anyway, let’s get back to the Bard!” Y/N exclaimed, clapping her hands

“Wow wow wow, what does Dustin’s D&D character has to do with anything?” Eddie rose an eyebrow while taking a cigarette from the pack that was laying on the ground

“I am not talking about Nog the Noble!”

Y/N sighed and took the cig from Eddie’s mouth. He would’ve stopped her if it wasn’t for the fact that, contrary to what he had first believed, she did not throw it away like she had done on the boat when Steve was getting ready for his big swim. She simply placed it between her delicate lips and used her hand to signal Eddie that she was waiting for him to light it for her. Which he did, a bit more clumsily than he had wished. But being just a few inches away from her face, along with the fact that she did not tear her eyes away from him as the flame appeared, bathing her in a golden light, that only added to the jitters that he was already feeling. She took a long drag and tilted her head backwards as she slowly exhaled the smoke. The tension that Eddied had been feeling more and more acutely these past minutes was now starting to build up in a very specific part of his body and he looked away.

“You do know that Shakespeare is also known as the Bard, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, I’m not a complete imbecile, contrary to what you obviously believe.”

He didn't intended his words to sound so harsh. A flash of sadness passed into Y/N’s eyes and Eddie cursed himself for it.

“Well perhaps I wouldn’t take you for a complete imbecile if you didn’t act like one.” She retorted, her voice now cold as ice. “What you did the other day… Fuck Munson, were you even thinking?”

“You mean when I basically saved you and your darling brother from a certain death?” He couldn’t help the words from pouring out of his mouth, despise knowing how wrong they were.

“Oh yeah, because staying behind to play the hero did not put us into danger at all.” She was now standing up, looking at him with her teeth clenched and an anger that made her even more attractive

“Well maybe it wouldn’t have if you two had stayed safe instead of coming back-“

Eddie abruptly rose, walking away from her

“We came back to save you, you pretentious fuck!”

“I did not need saving!” He snapped, turning around.

He saw the injuries, crimson patches on her body.

She was hurt.

She was bleeding.

She was… crying?

And it was all because of him.

“How could you be so stupid ?!” She had screamed once the bats had suddenly fallen, a clear indication that Vecna had been defeated. “That was not part of the plan!”

“Y/N…” Dustin had tried to calm her down, but she couldn’t be reasoned “Don’t scream at him, he almost died! For us!”

“And that was completely unnecessary !!!” She was kneeling before him, her hands gripping his shoulders so tightly that Eddie would have winced, where he not already in great pain. “You have no right to do that, Munson! You have no right to decide you wanna be a fuckin’ martyr!”

She would have kept going, yelling at him until her voice went hoarse, if their friends hadn’t stopped her from doing so. Eddie thought that she looked like she was about to kill him herself, and he understood her fury. But what was disconcerting to him was the fact that, more than angry, she had seemed scared. Petrified, even.

But that was just because he had put Dustin’s life in danger by acting so recklessly, right?

She couldn’t be worried for him, could she?

______________________________________________________________

Y/N was fuming. She had come to him to take her mind off everything that had happened and now they were talking about it. No, not talking but quarreling like children. But it was what they did, right? It had always been like that between them, ever since Dustin had joined Hellfire. She would drop her little brother off, share a few cutting remarks with the dungeon master and then pick Dustin up at the end of the session. Eddie would make fun of her for putting so much time and energy into Hawkins High drama club and she would sass back, saying that what they did was like roleplay, except they were all talented at it and the writing was better. Even when they had come together with the rest of the group, in the hopes of defeating Vecna, their feud had carried on. That was their bond. A fragile balance between sarcasm, understanding and a sort of mutual esteem. But they never took it too far, as if they both understood that this equilibrium would be easily shattered if one of them would cross the unspoken line between them. They would jab, but never actually punch. Until today.

“Well you could have said it before then!” Y/N hated how high her voice sounded when she was starting to get emotional but she refused to surrender “So that I would not have bothered to risk my life, and Dustin’s, for you!”

“I risked my life for the both of you!” Eddied hissed, taking a step towards Y/N, who hadn’t realized how close their bodies now were. “I almost died so that Dustin, and you, could get back to your Momma’s house safely!!”

“You were supposed to come back with us, that was the plan!” They were now inches apart and Y/N could feel Eddie’s erratic breath on her face. His eyes, once a warm brown, were now almost black and a small part of her was curious to know if anger was the only emotion that would dilate his pupils that much.

“The plan would have gotten you killed!” His scent was also surrounding her, a blend of cold cigarettes, cheap cologne and something woody that Y/N couldn’t quite name.

“Well not following the plan almost got you killed!” She yelled, the edge of her right fist sharply hitting Eddie in the chest, right where his W.A.S.P. badge was. The pain of the violent contact made her grimace, but she ignored it.

“Lucky for me, Y/N Henderson the Mighty was here to save the day!” Eddie was now provoking her, raising his hands as if he was thanking an invisible deity “But do not lie to me, sweetheart, you and I both know you acted on pure instinct.” In his mouth, as this very moment, the pet name sounded everything but affectionate “I bet you don’t even know why you saved me.”

“You know what, Munson?” The young woman seethed, now gripping his jean vest with both of her hands, fisting the material. “You’re right. I really haven’t the faintest idea on why I risked my life to save your sorry ass, because you can’t even say thank you.”

“How is that for a thank you?!”

Y/N barely had the time to register what Eddie was saying before she felt his lips on hers. The kiss was harsh, brutal, a battle of tongue and teeth, each of them trying to claim dominance over the other. Y/N’s hands found their way into the brunette’s messy mane, her fingers grasping every fiber she possibly could. Eddie wrapped his arms around her, embracing her like he wanted their bodies to melt together and as Y/N urged her frame into Eddie’s, she felt a very distinct bump where his crotch was. The feeling was intoxicating and the crusade restless, neither of the opponents ready to admit defeat. Y/N perceived that the heat that was once spreading on her cheeks was now occurring in a very different component of her anatomy. A familiar sensitivity, that would soon be joined by dampness. And if Y/N was honest with herself, the sensation had lately been caused solely by the very man whose inferior lips she was now biting, earning a growl from him.

“You’ll have to do much better than that, Munson.” She could barely recognize her own voice, as she parted from him, already drunk on the kiss. She lightly pulled his hair to get a better look at his face – damn, he was really something with pupils so blown that his eyes now appeared almost black and lips already red and slightly swollen, panting as his own hands were now brushing Y/N’s sides. “I saved your stupid life and all you have for me is a kiss?”

“Oh, do not worry, princess.” Eddie’s inflection was dangerously low and Y/N had to repress a moan as she felt his left hand sneak in under the fabric of her shirt, cold rings on burning skin. “This is just the beginning. I don’t think you’re actually ready for what comes next.” His teeth were now grazing the delicate skin of her neck, nibbling and suctioning the soft flesh with lust, his lips mapping a route of delicate bruises.

“I think you’re all bark and no bite, Munson.” Y/N daintily nipped the metalhead’s ear and he growled in response. “I think I should leave and find someone who can actually handle me because I know you can’t.”

“Fuckin” Christ” Eddie snarled, his lips meeting her mouth once again “Don’t you ever shut up ?!”

“Fuckin’ make me.” Y/N spewed, commanding yet also begging. She wanted this, wanted him. There was no point in denying it now, she didn’t came to Eddie Munson for a joint, a night of chit-chat or of shared traumas. She came to him to drop the guard, whatever defenses she had erected around her because, and she was realizing it now, she had been so scared of losing him that she couldn’t bear to keep on living as if he had no effect on her. As if he meant nothing. Because that would have been a lie. A terrible, terrible lie.

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