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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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part two

———

Getting outrun for seven miles by an eight year old is a uniquely humbling experience. Compactly humiliating, coincidentally, is being outrun by an eight year old while dragging along a bouquet large enough that it cannot be adequately contained with two hands and must therefore be carried between two people.

Lee is having something of an afternoon.

“It starts in seven minutes!” shouts Will, at least twelve solid yards ahead of them and running backwards. He does not appear even to be sweating. “Hurry!”

“Could not be hurrying more if I tried,” Lee wheezes.

(It’s not that Lee isn’t a good runner. He is. It’s that Will is freakishly fast, because he has dimples when he smiles and has endeared himself to the dryads, who have been teaching him how to sprint like the hopped up little Energizer Bunny he is. Michael has been calling him Soda Boy for ages, on account of how he so closely resembles a can of pop that has been vigorously shaken, which he hates. Remembering it brings Lee some peace.)

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

Clamping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to preserve energy, Lee surges forward. Michael matches him, having to run significantly faster to keep up with his long legs. Their panting forms a discordant melody of despair. Poetic.

When they stumble through the door, chests heaving, Lee considers collapsing to the ground and weeping for joy. He will never run again. If a monster chases him, he will simply fight or accept his fate. He has reached his quota.

But, for perhaps the first time in his life, there is no time for dramatics. The lobby is devoid of the massive crowds it held earlier, shadows eerie in their absence, and only the final tail end of a line shuffles through the stage doors.

Despite his internal vow, Lee sprints forward to catch up with them.

“Hold it,” says a man in a venue volunteer! vest, holding up a hand. He glances at them, resting his gaze on Will’s messy hair, Michael’s scuffed shoes, Lee’s wrinkled shirt, and pausing for quite a while on the giant bouquet. The narrowed eyes and thinned lips are familiar. Lee stiffens.

“Go on in,” the man says to the middle aged couple in front of them, who’s crease-free jackets read ‘Dance Mom’ and ‘Prop Team Dad’ respectively. He shoos them inside, complimenting the honest-to-Apollo corsage in the woman’s hand, chortling along to the man’s joke. The laughter drops from his face the second the couple is guided through the doors, and the man turns back to the three of them.

“The show,” he says, nose upturned, “has begun. I can’t let anyone else in lest they cause any…disturbances.”

“The show starts on three minutes and forty-seven seconds!” Will protests, sticking his watch in the man’s face. Completely oblivious to his murderous look, he continues, “Forty-six seconds! Forty-five! Time’s-a-tickin’, let us in!”

The man bares his teeth in a smile. “Regrettably, you are too late. You’ll have to wait for the intermission.”

Will blinks at him. He looks at Lee, at the doors, then back at the man.

“But…we’re on time. And if we come back later, we’ll miss my sister’s dance!”

The man shrugs. “This will be a valuable lesson, then.” He purses his lips, glancing again at the bouquet. “Perhaps be more prepared, next time.”

Will turns back to Lee and Michael, crestfallen. He swipes quickly under his eyes, squeezing his thumb into fists, but the tears well up anyway. “We’re going to miss it?”

Michael snarls. In one quick move he shoves the massive bouquet entirely into Lee’s arms, yanks Will by the shoulders to stand behind him, and gets right in the man’s face.

“You listen here, you slimy ratbag, you had no fuckin’ trouble letting those last scragglers in so you better clean up your act quick before I —”

A loud crashing noise makes them all jump, interrupting him. Nearly crushing the flowers, Lee whips towards the source of the sound. One of the competition banners has been yanked down, metal frame collapsing on the tile floor. Fastening screws rattle to a slow stop beside it.

“What the —”

Another banner crashes to the floor. This time, the little hands that tore it down are a touch too slow to dart away, a blonde head not quick enough to duck behind a corner.

“Hey!” the man shouts. Shoving Michael aside, and moving quicker than Lee can think to stop him, he sprints towards the corner Will disappeared behind. “Get back here! You can’t do that!”

Lee curses, trying to manoeuvre the flowers to see and run at the same time. Michael runs ahead of him, on the man’s heels, chanting shit shit shit shit under his breath. Lee’s brain takes the initiative to alternate, chanting fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time he takes a breath.

They’re going to get kicked out for sure. Diana is going to kill them and it’s going to be justified, because Lee is going to have to live with the noble look he knows Cass will have on when she realises they’re not there to watch. The shakey, practiced smile she’ll slap over the disappointment in her dark eyes.

Shit shit shit shit indeed.

“Lee! Michael! Over here!” whispers a voice. Lee whirls around to face it — boy does he ever feel like a puppet on a stick right now — and, for the second time in as many minutes, feels his head pound at the disorienting frenzy of emotions that bubble up when he sees his baby brother’s face. Will stands half inside a doorway Lee hadn’t noticed on the way in, tucked in the shadow of a corner.

He is fast, holy shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” hisses Michael.

“Getting us inside! Hurry up!”

Lee doesn’t need further prompting, clock ticking in his brain. Gods, how long do they have left? Thirty seconds? Less?

“Most big theatres have sideline entrances,” Will explains after Michael helps shove the giant bouquet through the tiny door. He guides them, upright to their hunching, down a tight corridor. “They’re for performers to pop up in the audience without being seen. Mama and I race each other to find ‘em when she did shows.”

Lee had forgotten, for a moment, how much of his life Will has spent in and out of theatres, bars, stages. Naomi Solace has been growing more and more famous since…half of his life, at least. Lee remembers hearing about her four years ago, when she’d done a smaller show in Queens. A friend of his had gone.

Michael reaches out and tugs the mostly-undone ponytail he’d wrestled Will’s hair into that morning. “Good job, kid.”

He grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

They stumble into the darkened audience in the nick of time. The second Lee steps out of the cramped little corridor, dragging the stupid flowers (he is, in fact, regretting his choices at this point in time; when he has a free moment he will add this to the list of reasons he will be kicking his past self’s ass if the Hephaestus cabin successfully recreates DeLorean time machine) along with him, the stage lights come on. An announcer’s voice calls out, “Entry 109, Competitive Open Solo: Cass Hasapi.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters. A quaint family of four gasps. He sneers at them. “Fuck, you see Diana?”

“No, is she maybe —”

“I think that’s her hair —”

“That person is way too tall, what are you —”

“I swear to the gods, I am going to kill you both,” whispers a beautifully familiar voice, and then Lee is being dragged. “Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. Will, baby, c’mere.”

Will climbs happily over the two empty seats, settling onto Diana’s lap and curling under her chin. He sticks his tongue out when Lee and Michael follow in behind him, struggling with the bouquet, muttering about favouritism.

“I’ve literally known you for six times longer than you’ve known him,” Michael mutters, sticking his tongue out right back. A grandmother with a severe bob whirls back and hushes him.

“Yeah, I’ve had all that time to get tired of your bullshit. Shut up.”

Before Michael can retort — Lee is sure he has an eloquent and devastating response, Lee has been helping him practice — soft piano drifts out from the speakers. A light turns on, pointed at the stage.

All four of them snap their mouths shut.

In the centre of the stage, Cass stands, poised. Her back is turned to the audience, arms extended above her and tilted to the right, as if reaching for the setting sun. Her hair, braided loosely back, brushes the edge of her thickly draping purple costume. Her knees are bent and locked and one bare foot sticks out like she’s trying to balance herself, like she’s mid fall.

A gravelly, male voice sings lowly along to the piano. How do you know which time might be the last? She moves along the dip of his voice, dragging her limbs through the rigid air. What I would give just to see you again? She moves with a swooping twist of her heels, twisting at the waist. Under the heat of the stage lights, her face contorts, forehead deeply wrinkled, mouth parted, breathing quickly. I’d walk to the depths of a world down below and demand to get back what some circumstance stole. She holds herself with such tension that Lee finds his own shoulders hiking up to his ears. Her chest moves rapidly, hands shaking, knees buckling. His breath goes stale in his lungs.

When the chorus starts, hard and heavy and sudden, I turned back one last time just to prove you were there, Cass hits the floor. He gasps with the rest of the audience, clutching the plush armrest, but it’s intentional, part of the dance. ‘Cause the last ray of sun made Eurydice cold. Collapsed on the floor, limbs bent, dress askew, she crawls, begging, towards the audience. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?

Cass does not move gracefully. She moves like a beached, gasping siren dragging herself back to the depths, like someone climbing out of a pit. Every movement looks heavy and painful. She looks at the audience and Lee is surging forward before he can stop himself, breath hitching, brain screaming: help her! help her! help her!

If I knew how it’d feel back then, I wouldn’t take another step.

Her body twists again, hair escaping her loose braid and sticking to her neck, her forehead. She claws at her throat like she’s suffocating, eyes accusing everyone watching like they’re holding her under. Each movement of her arms swell and sway on the beat, bare feet slapping the ground with every hit of the kettle drum. If you can see me it’s all in your head, but it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.

Everything ends.

The piano fades out, the drums hit their last beat. All that’s left is the wretched guitar, taught like strings snapping, taught like the tense pull of her suspended muscles.

But I opened the door and went down the stairs; I turned back one last time to prove you were there.

As the last word fades, she drops. Not slowly, not evenly, but like whatever was holding her up crumbled to dust. Like she was shot. Her purple dress pools out around her like dark Hyacinth. She lays completely, entirely still.

The lights cut. The air in the audience goes heavy.

They come back on and no one says a word. Lee realises, as it drips onto his hands, that he is crying. Diana is, too, tear tracks too fresh to dry on her face, and Will is leaned forward so far he sways precariously. Michael’s hands are pressed harshly to his eyes.

Trancelike, Lee stands. All eyes snap, abruptly, towards him, but he ignores them. He looks straight across the rows of chairs and locks eyes with his sister, upright now, heaving, standing hesitant. She looks at him, and then beside him at Michael, and then at Will in Diana’s lap. They scramble quickly up next to him, and without any of them saying anything, they begin to cheer.

Cass’s face lights up.

With permission, much of the audience claps. No one stands as they do and as they continue hooting and hollering the claps fade quickly, replaced with stares and murmurs, but Cass still stands there, beaming, looking away and looking back like she can’t believe they’re there. That someone is there, that someone watched her, her, from beginning to end. A hand tugs on his sleeve.

“Can I sonic?” Will asks, raising his voice to be heard.

“Level four,” Lee allows.

He needs no further permission, grinning. He lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone around them shout in alarm and Lee’s ears ring. But Cass laughs, loud and bright, so it’s worth it, and when Will looks at him in question he nods. The second whistle is definitely beyond a level four, but Lee doesn’t care. Cass looks the happiest he’s seen in a long time.

———

None of them care too much about staying for the other performances. But Cass has two more dances with her studio classes, spread out as they are, so Lee remains doomed to two hours of an aching ass and performances that come nowhere near Cass’s masterpiece. Will seems intrigued, though, by some of the pieces, so he grits his teeth and bares it. Besides, the rolled eyes he shares with Diana and Michael every time someone does something exceedingly cliche or tries and fails at depth (someone, often, being one of Cass’s teammates, shocker) makes it somewhat worth it.

By the time the judges call the last entry, though, Lee is ready to book it out of there.

The lights come back on and pop music plays through the speakers as dancers, in track suits over their costumes, congregate on the stage. Lee stands and stretches, letting Will stand on his shoulders and jump off into Michael’s arms to get some of his energy out. (And, also, ‘cause tossing a small child between them is fun. Diana jogs into the aisle so they can throw farther, but they all decide against it when a security guard glances over.)

After what feels like eight million years, the judges finally lumber over to the stage. The building voices hush as they climb the steps, standing in front of the gathered studios with cabled mics and stacks of foreboding envelopes.

“Welcome, dancers and families,” starts one judge.

She blabs on for several minutes about what an honour it was to judge and how wonderful everyone was. Blah, blah, blah. Lee spaces out about the time Diana’s eyes glaze over, and he looks instead to the gathered stage, observing. There are five different studios that he can see, each with about forty to fifty dancers. Mostly young women. They sit tangled together, legs on legs, arms around shoulders, feet tucked under thighs. Cass, he notices, sits on her own, at the very back of the stage. She sits straight-backed and proud, though. Chin lifted, braid resting over her shoulder.

Impossible to miss.

Two of her group dances win Diamond (Diana explains to them that this is Very Good. She thinks). Most others do not get this honour. Lee notices especially the older couple to their left looking quite sour. The glee he feels is indescribable.

“The winner for our open solo, for all age groups, was actually unanimous. It’s been a while since that happened!”

A girl near the front of the stage, who Lee recognises as the one to make a cruel joke about Cass’ mother, preens. Her solo was boring as hell. He’s not sure what she’s so smug about.

“With a score of 97.6, congratulations to Entry 109, Cass Hasapi!”

The four of them scream like lunatics.

They don’t even wait for scattered applause. Each one of them clambers up on the pristine chairs, covering them with scuff marks, and yell at the top of their lungs, jumping and cheering like chimps in a cage. Cass goes red, but she can’t hide her smile as she stands and accepts her award, grinning over at them. Michael holds up his camera and snaps a photo of her, pink-cheeked and wild-haired, glowing.

———

“Cass!”

Will sees her before the rest of them, sprinting towards the changeroom doors at top speeds and leaping up into her arms. She catches him easily, spinning them both around, pressing a thousand kisses to his hair and face.

“Hello, my darling! Hello hello hello!” Every word is punctuations with a kiss, or rather a press of her wide smile to anywhere she can reach. In seconds his cheeks are stained with her lipstick. “Oh, it has been weeks, darling boy, I missed you!”

Will clings to her sweater, face buried in the crook of her neck. She holds him just as tightly.

(Will has seen Cass more than Lee, in the past few months. He knows she’s made a few sudden trips to camp. But he also knows that she was the first one to welcome him into camp, the day his mother dropped him off, and when he was claimed she was the first to bring him home. She loves to tote him around, too, to have him trail after her for cabin inspections, holding the clipboard, or paint his nails when she’s bored. He misses her something fierce in the winters. She holds on tightly when she comes back home.)

Squeezing him one last time, she turns to the rest of them. Despite her wide smile, her mascara runs.

“You came,” she says, voice wobbling.

Michael clears his throat. “No shit.”

His voice wobbles, too.

“Come here, you goober.”

He’s the next to cling to her, inserting himself under her arm. She presses a kiss to his temple and he pinches her ribs, complaining, getting louder when she digs a knuckle into his hair. Diana jogs up and separates them, as she always does, flicking Michael on the forehead and pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Cass’s tears spill over again. “Thank you.”

Lee clears his throat. He feels, suddenly, like a doofus, holding a bouquet of flowers the size of him, but Cass looks at them and grins again, chuckling.

“You sell your kidney for that or what?”

Lee snorts. “No, we exchanged Will. This is a clone.”

“Did not!”

Lee blows a raspberry. “Did too. Clone.”

“I’m not a clone! I’m me!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ya-huh!”

“Alright,” Cass interrupts, rolling her eyes fondly. She kisses the tip of Will’s nose again and sets him down, turning towards Lee, hands outstretched dramatically. “Hand me my dues.”

Because she is, at the core of her, a true daughter of Apollo, even though the amount of poise and grace that bleeds from her at any given time contradicts almost directly with the guy who beams Pocketful of Sunshine directly into their brains at five in the morning every single day without fail, she kneels with a flourish. Because Lee is, at the core of him, also a child of Apollo, he goes unquestioningly along with the bit, pulling out one of the flowers to knight her before resting the entire bouquet in her arms. She has to hold it with both hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, grinning.

“They are ridiculous,” Diana stresses. “Dumbasses were damn near late getting this for you. They already had flowers, mind you. They’re just dumb.”

Will holds up his hand with his watch. “I kept us from being late!”

Diana squishes his cheek. “Thank you, sweetpea. You’re already smarter than your brothers combined.”

“Stick out your tongue again and I’ll grab it, you little snitch,” Lee warns.

Will, darting to hide behind Diana, does not heed his warning. Because he’s a little shit. bc

The walk out of the building in a gaggle of movement. As other dancers and their families walk by, glowering at Cass’ flowers and at Cass in general, Lee makes a point to catch their eyes. To smirk. To let them know, without saying a word — you were wrong. Of course you were wrong. Look at how she’s better than your bitter ass without even trying.

It warms him inside, truly.

“I’m thinking,” Diana says, walking back to the car, “that we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home. On Michael’s dollar. Will, look real excited so Michael can’t say no.”

“I am excited,” Will says, turning to face him, “so that’s real easy.”

Michael sighs. He taps his foot on the pavement, glaring. He sighs again. “You’re getting s plain cone and that’s that. You understand me?”

Will takes that as code for ‘begin negotiating’. Diana joins him, the two of them chasing Michael to the car, yelling about Blizzards and sundaes. Cass falls into step next to Lee, adjusting the flowers.

“So,” she says, shooting him a small smile.

“So,” he intones.

“Diana told me you snuck the boys out of camp.”

“…Yes.”

“Organised the whole trip, basically.”

“It wasn’t hard. I just told Michael to pack his shit and he listened, for once. So.”

“Lee.” She waits for him to open the trunk, letting him stuff the ridiculous flowers inside before facing him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Thank you.”

“I don’t —”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. How can he say it? How can he tell her about being fourteen and older than half the unclaimed kids in Hermes, still reeling over camp as a whole, and the fear that had dissipated from his chest when she stood in front of camp and said, firmly, he’s ours? About the hours she spent listening to him ramble about Pokémon, learning the game for him, mailing him cards she finds around? About the letters she sends him every week without fail, even though she’s swamped with her own shit, because she remembers the night he cried, months and years of being weird and lonely and unlike anyone else he knew? How can he explain the bubbling in his chest, the ache for her, because of her?

“Of course, Cass.”

She opens her arms and he falls into them, forehead on her shoulder, arms tight around her waist. She grips around his back, pressing a kiss to his hair. His throat is dry, choking back the thickness of his tears.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Lee.”

#AND WERE DONE #AND ITS FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING FUCK #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #lee fletcher #will solace #michael yew #diana mckinney #cass hasapi #cabin seven #my writing #fic #longpost #song is orpheus by vincent lima btw #pjo hoo toa

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chvoswxtch · 11 months

Text

forgiveness

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: matt decides frank needs an attitude adjustment and uses you as a demonstration.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: this came directly from my other head, if ya know what I mean (all puns intended).

word count: 2k

[part one: jealousy][part three: revenge]

Matt could hear what Frank was doing to you from three blocks away. He had one of your thighs draped over his as you both sat on the couch, your hands bound behind your back with his favorite leather belt while his thick fingers strummed lazily through your folds like he was playing his favorite song.

Not even the blaring siren from the fire truck racing down the street to his right could combat the sound of your breathless and desperate whines of Frank’s name for mercy. Jealousy still singed along Matt’s nerves, but irritation and frustration polluted his bloodstream as Frank’s previous taunt echoed between his ears.

Hurry your ass up. Clock’s tickin’.

Frank appeared to have gotten too complacent over the past few months, taking advantage of Matt’s thinly veiled patience and sanctioned forgiveness. He had also gotten too comfortable, thinking because he laid with the Devil that meant he was safe from the hellfire.

Frank was due for a fucking attitude adjustment.

As Matt burst through the front door, both yours and Frank’s heads whipped around in that direction, surprised by his sudden and bold entry. The dark look on Matt’s face made you shudder, and Frank’s fingers paused momentarily, hovering over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Well, ‘bout time you showed up, Red. Thought I said-”

In a flash, Matt had crossed the threshold in record time, and he was suddenly towering over Frank, his hand darting out to grab him by his throat. Matt’s fingers coiled tightly around Frank’s neck, squeezing hard enough that Frank’s eyes flew open in shock and he swiftly retracted his hand from between your thighs completely to grip onto Matt’s wrist. Matt tossed his glasses carelessly onto the coffee table behind him so that Frank could see the feral look in his hazel eyes that were a storm of lust and anger. He leaned in so that their noses were only a millimeter apart, the corner of his lip curled up into a menacing snarl as he bared his dazzling teeth.

“I don’t give a fuck what you said. You seem to have forgotten how to not be such an asshole, Castle. She stays home to take care of you, and you’re being a fucking tease. I call to check in, and you start playing with her pussy, knowing I can hear it over the phone. You seem to have come home with a fucking attitude, and we’re gonna fix that right now.”

Matt’s words caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, and if that hadn’t caught his attention, the fresh flow of arousal that seeped into the couch cushion beneath you certainly did. Matt let out a low growl in his chest that had your cunt fluttering and Frank’s hands clenching into tight fists.

Frank’s arrogant mistake was thinking that Matt only let the Devil out behind the guise of his horns on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. But it took one night of relentless teasing for him to learn that the Devil and the man were one in the same. After experiencing just how unmerciful and vengeful Matt could truly be, Frank hadn’t made that error again.

Until now.

Matt roughly let go of Frank’s throat, his burning blank stare still fixated directly on his face.

“Don’t move. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t speak.”

Frank’s lips instantly parted to protest, a deep furrow nestling between his thick brows, but another hardened glare from Matt coupled by his head tilting to the side in challenge had him grunting in response. Satisfied with Frank’s obedience, Matt turned his attention to you, his gaze softer as he knelt down in front of you, reaching behind you to free your hands from the confinements of Frank’s belt.

“Are you gonna behave for me, sweetheart?”

Matt’s breath was warm against your neck, and the feeling of his coarse facial hair brushing against your sensitive skin made you shiver.

“Yes, Matty.”

You could feel his devilish grin stretching across his lips as he pressed them against the juncture above your collarbone, delicately sinking his teeth into your skin as he inhaled your scent deeply and hummed lowly in his throat.

“That’s my girl. Let me take care of you, angel.”

Matt wasted no time burying his head between your thighs. He brought your legs up and over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping onto your hips to pull your cunt closer to his greedy lips, and he moved his tongue against your clit in a way that had you writhing uncontrollably. He didn’t bother holding your hips down and let you tangle your fingers in his hair to guide him wherever you wanted. In complete contrast to how he had treated Frank just mere minutes ago, Matt let you use him how you pleased, getting as much pleasure from it as he was giving you.

He could feel Frank’s eyes locked on his movements, hardly even blinking so that he didn’t miss a single second of Matt devouring your pussy like a man starved. He could almost taste the saliva building up in Frank’s mouth, knowing it was watering at the thought of your taste. The sound of Frank’s calloused fingertips brushing along the rough denim of his jeans towards the mountain that had formed in his lap caught Matt’s attention quickly. Matt quickly reached for Frank’s belt and snapped the leather harshly against the back of Frank’s hand to halt his movements, and a low growl laced with warning tear tore through his chest. The vibration of it directly against your clit nearly made you combust right then and there.

Before you could reach your peak, Matt removed his lips from your swollen clit, shushing you gently with his index finger against your lips as you immediately began to whine in protest. He rose up slowly from his knees and took a seat on the couch right next to Frank. He made a show of languidly unbuckling his belt, carefully tugging down his zipper, and lazily pulled out his aching cock while you and Frank watched with bated breath.

Matt held his open palm out in front of Frank’s face and tilted his head in his direction slightly.

“Spit.”

The low and commanding tone of his voice went straight to your core, and it must have had the same effect on Frank, because he didn’t hesitate to do exactly what Matt asked. Matt collected the arousal leaking from his slit and used that in combination with Frank’s saliva to lubricate his cock as he wrapped his hand around his base and gave himself a few gentle strokes.

His lips parted into a cocky grin hearing the way you and Frank both groaned in unison at the sight.

Matt patted his thick thigh as he motioned towards you with his chin.

“Come here, baby. Come sit.”

He didn’t wait for your frazzled brain to catch up with his command. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you onto his lap, spreading your legs wide open with your thighs draped over his own so that your knees were on the outsides of his. Matt wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“On your knees, Castle.”

“Red-”

“On. Your. Knees.”

The low growl that accompanied his words had your cunt clenching around nothing, and Frank let out a disgruntled noise before he stood up from the couch, only to lower himself onto his knees in front of you and Matt. You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest for Frank, seeing the look of absolute agony in his deep brown eyes. As you reached out towards him, Matt quickly gripped onto your wrist, his deep voice dripping into your ear laced with warning.

“No. This is his punishment.”

“C’mon, Red. Was only messin’ earlier. Wasn’t actually bein’ mean to her, or you.”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak, Castle. Give me your hands.”

Frank clenched his jaw tightly as he stared over your shoulder at Matt, his face a twisted up concoction of frustration and distress. Wordlessly, he offered his hands up and watched as Matt bound his wrists together tightly with his own belt that he had used to bind you.

Desperation was not something you could usually detect in Frank Castle’s voice, but it was pouring from his words, and you could see the despair glimmering in his big brown eyes. Matt seemed to ignore his defense, reaching between your thighs to grab his cock and slip it through your soaked folds, letting out a quiet hiss in your ear as your welcoming heat enveloped him. Your head fell back against his chest at the delectable intrusion, and Matt’s voice was hoarse by the time his cock was fully nestled inside you.

“You know the rules, Castle. Teasing sluts don’t get rewarded for their bad behavior. Only good boys get rewarded. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You get treated nice when you’re a good girl, don’t you?”

Matt had you completely at his mercy, his hands firmly gripped onto your hips, lazily moving his hips upwards as he fucked you slowly and purposefully. He had his chin resting on your shoulder, his nose nuzzled against your neck, pressing warm, open-mouthed kiss to your sensitive skin. The way his cock was dragging against your walls had already caused your brain to short circuit, and you couldn’t hardly focus on his words.

“Yes, Matty…”

Matt could feel Frank’s eyes watching the way his thick cock split you open, disappearing inside you over and over and over. He could hear the thunder booming in his ribcage, feel the heat that layered over his skin, and the way his index and middle finger twitched on his right hand, as if he were pulling an invisible trigger. Matt could also feel the way his massive cock strained against the front of his jeans, and he was almost shocked it hadn’t busted through the zipper at this point. He let out a low groan as the taste of Frank’s arousal weeping from his aching tip nestled in the air.

Matt’s teeth grazed along your neck, lightly nipping at your heated skin while digging his blunt nails into the flesh of your hips, his voice lowering to a dangerous octave in your ear.

“Tell him how it feels, baby.”

“Feels so good, Matty..”

The low whimper coated with anguish Matt’s ears caught from Frank cracked his stubborn resolve. Matt enjoyed teasing Frank, but he never wanted to torture him. He just wanted to get his message across.

Matt could never stay mad at Frank.

“Think we should let him earn his forgiveness, hm? Think he deserves that, angel?”

“Yes…he’ll be good…be so good, Matty.”

Matt reached his hand out in front of him, and Frank immediately sought out his touch, nestling his face into Matt’s palm.

“What do you think, Frank?”

“Lemme make it up to ya, Red. To both of ya.”

Matt couldn’t help but grin devilishly hearing the lust melting from Frank’s pleading voice. His craving was palpable, and it made Matt feel a surge of power. No one knew how to bring the Punisher to his knees like him except for you.

He dragged the pad of his thumb along Frank’s plump bottom lip gently before roughly gripping onto the back of his neck to drag his face towards your cunt.

“Well go on, then. Earn your forgiveness.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

“You look better in red” ficlet mayhaps🫶🏼

you look better in red

"no!" you laughed, shaking your head firmly from where you lay on the bed. "baby!" millie whined, stomping her foot like a toddler as she glared down at you. "please." the blonde pouted as you again shook your head.

"what am i then? chopped liver?" mary scoffed, crossing her arms and glaring at the taller girl beside her. "no! i just thought it would work best with three of us." millie huffed, having spent the last half an hour begging you to do a tiktok with her as you promptly refused.

"go on then snakehips. time's a tickin!" you teased, propping yourself up on one elbow and tapping your watch as your girlfriend gave you a mean stare and set up her phone to record.

you were away on england camp for the olympic qualifiers and of course that meant millie and mary had to record as many tiktoks as they could, millie dubbing herself the tiktok princess to marys tiktok queen.

"oi those are my shorts!" you realised as your girlfriend hiked her hoodie up a little, your favourite pair of shorts snugly wrapped around her muscular thighs. "our shorts baby." millie corrected, blowing you a kiss as mary fake gagged.

"best not stretch them with your tree trunk thighs or we'll be havin words." you warned her sternly, mary now ooohing. "ow mills!" the girl huffed as the chealsea player punched her, the timer starting as the music went.

"go on girls!" you cheered with a clap as they both started to dance, stifling your laughter behind your hand as they both went the wrong way and crashed into one another.

this seemed to be a common trend as the two of them routinely argued back and forth about who was doing which part, at least ten takes in and still not able to use a single one. "would you stop laughin!" millie scowled at you as you buried your face in a pillow to muffle the noise.

"sorry! just its like you've both got two left feet. like big clumsy giants!" you clutched at your stomach, now the laughter was free flowing it was unable to stop. "right! if it's so easy then you do it love, go on!" your girlfriend gestured, her and mary stepping back as you shrugged.

you made sure the camera wasn't recording as you clicked play on the sound, counting yourself in and starting to dance, both girls jaws dropping as you didn't miss a beat or a single move. "ta da!" you finished, giving them both a sarcastic jazz hands.

"mary get out." millie mumbled, jaw slack as she stared at you with a familiar look in her eyes. "what?" the keeper frowned, unsure if she'd heard correctly. "out, get out." millie spoke, jumping to her feet and pouncing at you, hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

"ergh alright at least wait till i'm gone before you suck face!" mary groaned, grabbing her jacket and hurrying out of the room as millies large hands groped at you. "baby that was so hot." the taller girl mumbled into your mouth.

"don't laugh! i'm tryin to kiss ya here that's not very romantic." millie frowned as you pushed her away, body vibrating with amusement. "you are honestly like a teenage boy, the most weird and simple things turn you on bright!" you teased, shoving her suddenly as she fell back onto the bed.

"go on then baby. dance for me!" the older girl smirked, shuffling back to rest on her elbows as her eyes scanned you up and down hungrily. "you already got a free show. sorry love i'm a one trick pony!" you grinned, sending her a wink.

"alright! well then i guess i'll just have to dance for you." millie sighed, grabbing your hand and tugging you down on the bed, rolling on top of you and attacking your face with kisses before she stood.

"might want to get a head start and take your shorts and shirt off baby, cause this dance is gonna knock your socks off!" millie blew you a kiss and wiggled her finger guns, backing up as you raised your eyebrows at her confidence.

"count me in, from five." she flicked through her phone before she turned her back to you, pulling her hood up to cover her messy bun of hair. "oh my god." you sighed as pony blasted from her phone and you counted her in from five.

"millie!" you laughed as she turned, starting to body roll and bite her lip, mouthing along to the words. "call me magic millie baby." she flipped her hood off, dropping to the floor and rolling her body like a stripper as you laughed.

"baby this is not hot." you bit down on your lip as she wiggled and bucked her hips on the floor, shaking her head so much that her bun was clinging on for dear life to her head.

"scuse me, no talking from the audience." she warned, jumping up to her feet and quickly stripping herself of her hoodie, tossing it so it landed on your face. "keepsake darlin, from me to you." she winked and blew you a kiss as you peeled it off of you and dropped it to the floor.

"do we have a volunteer? oh you look willing for a good time!" mary yelled out, pointing to you and starting to stalk her way over. "millie!" your stomach hurt from laughing so hard as she stood in between your legs, grabbing the back of your neck and pressing your face into her stomach, rolling her body up and down as she continued to sing along.

"you want me? you can't have me!" millie yelled in a funny accent, suddenly shoving you away from her as she turned around and wiggled her bum at you.

you wolf whistled and broke out into cheers as the song ended and she dropped to her knees, peace signs in the air. "now that, that was dancing." millie breathed out, admittedly a little puffed from the effort.

"shut up and kiss me you big dopey idiot."

#millie bright x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso imagine #millie bright #woso x reader #engwnt

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mydearesthrry · 6 months

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okay i have a concept. body shots w harry????

oh anon ur fucking good. yeah baby lets do it. fbh for obvious reasons but for the plot its phh. couldnt do a full body shot but i tried my best. shes a shorty, enjoooooyyyyy ;)

cw: suggestive content, underage drinking but they’re at a frat party so idk do w that as u will

“oh, wait,” she giggles, hopping up onto the counter in the kitchen, the loud speakers making her voice nearly impossible to hear. “come here, h.”

“yeah, baby?” he grins, walking up to his girlfriend to stand between her legs.

“i have an idea.”

“uh oh,” he snickers, running a hand up and down her thigh, repeating the pattern when he hit the hem of her shorts. “that always never ends well.”

“shush! grab me the tequila, please?” she asks sweetly, grabbing a lime from the bowl next to her, the salt shaker already in her palm. harry nods and walks over to the other side of the counter, grabbing the bottle of tequila and two shot glasses, presumably thinking that they were gonna take a shot together.

stalking back over to Y/N, he hands her a shot glass and the bottle, already screwing open the top for her. “oh, nuh uh.”

he looks at her confused, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched slightly. “huh?”

“only you are taking a shot, mr. styles,” she grins mischievously. “but your chaser? on me, baby.”

and he’s convinced his heart just about stopped.

“seriously?” he stumbled, eyes wide.

“mhm. get me prepped, pretty boy.”

and so he got to work, filling a tiny glass nearly to the brim, tapping on her chin lightly so she could hold the lime between her teeth. placing the glass down on the counter, he grabbed the salt shaker from her hands and looked her in the eye, asking for her consent, all to which she nodded to, craning her neck up to expose her neck and chest to him.

leaning in, he placed soft kisses along the column of her throat, nipping softly every so often, creating a wet trail to her breasts, where he blew a puff of air down her cleavage, knowing it would make her squirm.

“h!” she giggled, grabbing at his shoulder-length curls, wrapping them around her fist the best she could, pulling him up and plucking the lime from her teeth, pulling him in for a messy kiss. “times tickin’, baby.”

moaning against her lips, he nodded, bending back down to her chest, his hair still wrapped in her hand. peaking out his tongue from his raspberry colored lips, he slowly licked a wet stripe along her breast, standing up and sprinkling salt on the gleaming strip on her chest.

“ready, mama?” he asked, pressing a quick chaste kiss to her cheek, picking up the shot glass when she nodded.

leaning back in to her tits, he licked the salt off before throwing back the tequila. he swallowed and leaned in quickly, grabbing the lime from her mouth and popping it into his, he bit the juice out from the lime and spit it into the sink. grasping her chin and jaw in his hand, he collided his lips to hers, teeth clashing in heat, tongues perusing each others mouths.

“harry,” she said breathlessly against his lips. “harry— harry, take, fuck, take me upstairs.”

nodding, he grabbing her thighs and wrapped her up against his stomach in a front piggyback, already leaving the kitchen, the evidence of the shot sorely left behind. “as you wish, princess.”

#hoping this shows up in tags!!!!!!!#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #answered #concepts

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todayontumblr · 9 months

Text

Monday, September 18.

History.

Ahh, history. There's been a lot of it. Enough to go around, you might say. There's been a fair few billions of years of this most elusive metaphysical substance, and a few things of note have happened within that time: dinosaurs roamed the Earth, then didn't. Cities emerged. The Greeks ate very well and sh*gged each other senseless, then didn't. The wheel was invented somewhere down the line, as was sliced bread. Dogs were domesticated (as were cats, sort of). Some smart folk put the alphabet together. The printing press was invented. The Industrial Revolution happened and sent us on a violent forward and backward trajectory simultaneously. Will Smith slapped Chris Rock at The Oscars (2022). It's been a busy old time, that's for sure, but the clock keeps-a-tickin', and the wheel keeps-a-turnin'. Come tick along with us as we celebrate all that is strictly past tense: #history.

#today on tumblr #history #culture #world history #history tag #anthropology #archaeology #taylor swift eras #study #studyblr #historyblr #museumblr #art #world politics #world news #world events #education #learning #learnblr

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simp-ly-writes · 2 months

Text

Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.6)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary: With a princess to save, you are willing to do just about anything to get this mission done and serve your country just as you have promised since signing that contract all those years ago as an up-an-coming agent. But you are not the only one with mentality and soon enough, you are running...

Warnings:3000~ words, light swearing, blood, highly suggestive scenes and trauma. A/N: be prepared for some angst served hot and ready! Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.

Sun slips through the sheer curtains, warming your face as you toss and turn to hide from his warm caress. Whitby groans out from beside you, turning off his alarm and slides over to wrap his arms around your torso. “Few more minutes,” he murmurs in a bed-ridden voice, you smile, easing back into his arms as you interlock your legs together. An odd banging sound has you raising an eyebrow but you ultimately squeeze your eyes tighter together. “I’ll be there…” you begin to grumble, stirring back asleep but their knocks are unrelenting against the wooden door. A voice shots out in your dream, “Handler…. Handler… fucking hell… DANIELS!!!”

You are up in an instant, smacking Witby right in the jaw as he cures out, rubbing the beginnings of stubble. “Princess is on the move, Samantha just reported a suspicious vehicle that matches the one she arrived from in the airport, we are cleared to intercept!”

“Stunning!” you cheer, quickly suiting up and leaving Whitby in the dust as he enjoys his vacation days. Beige suit equipped, gun loaded and sunglasses on you rush out of the room, bumping into a tired Gaz and jumping Johnny who eagerly cleans his tools and reloads a knife into his suit. “Mornin’ boys! Let’s go get ourselves a princess,” you announced as they cheered in reply before a concerned Price placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him as he tilted his head towards the living room and you followed.

“You joinin’ us for he mission? Who's gonna be on comms?” He asks. Fixing your suit jacket and tie with a smirk, you look up at him through your eyelashes. “Are you insinuating I cannot do two jobs at once?” you press, watching as he stands up that much straighter, chin tilted upwards as he looks past your shoulder- the inner soldier coming out. “No Ma’am/sir- just a friend concerned for another…”

“Who said we were friends,” you continue to press forward, raising an eyebrow as the edge of your smirk twitches. John starts to smile, noticing your failing bluff before emitting a chuckle. “Hmm, maybe since Samantha told me you were crying’ in the car over some old man.”

“Well maybe this old man has to check his hearing too, was not just you I was sobbing over… ego much?” you tease as he nods his head. “Oh, definitely. Someone has to keep you in check-”

“I’ve got Whitby to do that for me- is that not right?” you question. Not having to look over your shoulder to see him leaning against the door frame, keys dangling off one of his fingers, swishing back and forth lightly before throwing them for you to catch. “Sorry to interrupt, lovelies but times-a-tickin’.”

“Alright, Samantha and Whitby here are going to be doing comms. They are being tested for a promotion for my position soon…” you smile towards the man, eyes thoughtful as you exit the villa and towards the driveway where a red car is parked- ready and waiting. “What are you going to do after?” John questions, opening the door for you as you mindlessly sit in the passenger's side- he snags the keys from your suit pocket with a steady hand.

The door closes gently beside you, pulling you away from your thoughts on the future as you roll your eyes. Smooth… you think to yourself, watching as he slips into the driver's seat with a wink towards you, turning on the engine and begins to follow the rest of the crew in the yellow car ahead. “I would go off into administration or management, Handler of Handlers,” you say, watching as the landscape transforms from beaches and cliff sides towards white-painted buildings of the city. Blue doors and roofs greet your eyes as do the hordes of tourists that would only further complicate this mission.

Suddenly your sunglasses spark to life, “Hello Agent Daniels, Samantha” fires at you- you can swear to feel her smile at the side of your face where a hidden camera was placed, observing John's movements in the driver's seat. “Samantha,” you stress her name out, “now is not the time to get back- how many more intersections till the last-”

A porsche goes flying down the hill, their sideview mirror crashing into the building, breaking off chunks of stone as they fly across the hood of your car. John grunts, turning the steering wheel harshly as the wheels of the car skid and drift around the corner in pursuit of the vehicle. “We have eyes on the car, I repeat eyes on” you yell through the radio. Gripping the top of the car as you roll down your window and stick your head out to catch a glimpse of who was in the car. “Three figures in the car, Sam I need a ID stat!”

“Already on it, Matteo Victor, Lycia Steros and Princess Theodosia. Royal is in the back- passengers side, we are cleared to use guns or otherwise disruptive methods until we come to a stand still.”

“Fuck” you whisper underneath your breath, watching as Price has to slam on the breaks as a group of mindless tourists roam the vast streets and alleyways without a care to look where they are headed. Thankfully the yellow car that Simon is handling comes flying, slamming into the side of the Porsche that hurls to a stop. Blocked by a wall and the smashed hood of the car.

They stumble out of the vehicle as you jump out, Price cursing out as the vehicle is still moving yet you stumble into a room, chasing after the kidnappers and the kidnapped with Gaz and Johnny hot on your tail. “Take a left next turn,” Whitby’s voice fills your ear in a clear even turn as you blindly turn the corner and smash into the side of a wall before continuing your sprint.

Blinking twice in quick succession, your glasses fire to life as a screen projects itself to the side of your view. A map blinks open and a series of coloured lines showing each agent on the group pops up. Simon and John are two blocks down, having an odd encounter with the foreign police before making a break for it as Whitby reports.

“Gaz, move left, it’s a shorter path- we are going to cut them off both sides-”

“Understood!” his voice echoes down the alleyway and his footsteps are no longer heard. You turn your vision back, sunlight hitting your face once more as you see a sea-side market. Various colourful stalls paint the picture in patterns and smells as you knock into a barrel of apples as they pour down the angled street. You see Gaz waiting at the other side of the street, groping his knees as he falls over- trying to collect his breath.

Johnny has scaled one of the stands and climbs up to a residential balcony on the second floor where he waits, gun drawn and eyes on the alleyway they should be running out of any minute. John and Simon are pressing them in from behind- they have nowhere to go as you smile, cracking your neck to the side. Oh how I missed this rush…

A pink and flowing dress emerges, the Princess hikes it up, their ankles bleeding and bruised from the heels they are forced to run in as their arms are impaled by uncut fingernails digging into their tanned skin. You curse out, hundreds of screams being sound as the safety of a gun is clicked off and pressed into the side of their brown hair, tears and ruined makeup coat their face like a bad clown costume as they swear out for you to drop your weapons. Picking the gun out of your waistband, you make no further eye contact with Johnny still unseen and by the looks of it, Kyle has been ordered the same.

You hear the heavy breathing of Whitby in your ear, you understand his current anxiety better than anyone and a bitter side of you hopes that he will now feel how you do- having to repair his torn body every night. You fling your gun to the side before turning your shoulder sharply, arm extending outward and fingers pointed straight towards the man's throat. You watch as the knife curves and slices through his vocal cords- cutting off any sound of scream. Blood splatters the dress, dyeing it a deeper blush colour as they collapse to the ground in shock.

The gun pressed to her head now laying overtop a drain cover as the other criminal races to pick up the gun as you do the same. Head down in a full blown sprint, your legs burn as do your lungs. Shoving the woman down to the ground as you move to wrap your legs around her neck. She stumbles to a stand, hands clawing at your thighs- trying to remove you from her. Their stance wobbles as you rip the gun from their hand- face going blue as you tighten around their throat.

“No shots,” Samantha reminds you. Switching the barrel for the grip, you slam the metal weapon rapidly into their head as they fall back into one of the shops, getting you both cut in a fishing net. Cursing out, Gaz rushes forward securing the Princess yet John and Simon are still nowhere in sight. Blood coats your hands, as you race to find another knife within your suit jacket. Their hands grip at your beige suit, turning it black as they slam a bucket into the side of your head and reach towards your tie, throwing it around your shoulder and pulling back harshly as you choke. “DANIELS!” Whitby cries out through your earpiece only to be silenced by your face, communicator falling out of your ear and meeting the pavement as you force yourself to fall backwards and out of their touch.

They stumble to a stand as you rock on our feet, bringing up your fists in front of your face. The woman smirks, bleached blonde hair in a rats nest as they spit at your dress shoes and rush towards your waist and you feel as if you're floating. Light rain hits your features before your eyes widen, realizing you're falling down a cliffside. The woman falls towards you, punch resting to your nose as you yell out in pain. Clicking your heels together. You hear a blade sharpen before the world goes black. Eyes burning form the salt water.

The woman swims hastily towards you, knife in hand, you mentally curse out- searching yourself to find a blade missing. Fuck, you twist away and raising your leg from their attempted stab yet the blade grazes your side as you hiss out- air bubbles floting towards the surface just as your sunglasses do. You slam your foot into their side as they drift past you in the force of their stab. They hiss out in pain, body shuttering, eyes rolling back as the whites of their eyes turn a deep yellow- mouth foaming and their corpse floating upwards to the surface.

Whitby had arrived at the scene, leaning over the barrier, thankful to see the mission finished yet their heart ached to see you, to feel you in his arms, to feel the warmth of your body against his own and your joyous laughter as he served you your favorite drink at the bar later tonight. But in what felt like hours passing him by, various horrified faces begging him for explanations and a Princess pressed into the back of his suit jacket. Pleading for him to allow her a trip to the airport, he shoved her off, readying himself to pull you out of the water before a series of ripples emerged.

He braces himself for a lifeless you only to cry out in happiness, arms raised at the sight of you gasping for air. A rescue helicopter soars overhead, a harness is lowered and soon you are airlifted up the cliffside. Whitby races over without a care in the world, the blades overcome any other sound above as they cut through the sky and the remaining shop fronts. You stumble out, uncaring of the healthcare provider's words as you drop the space blanket and grip at Whitby's torso, head resting against his chest as you hold one another.

Whitby steps back, tearing off his suit jacket as he places it over your shoulders, its warmth hugging your figure as you step back in life and address your team with a proud smile. Gaz and John chaperone the princess to the back of a black SUV that Whitby arrived in. Simon was already in the driver's seat and drifting off into the distance with one knock of the roof.

Lost in the adrenaline, in the victory as Whitby hands you his glasses, showing an overjoyed Samantha clapping happily from headquarters in the video call. “DRINKS ON ME BITCHES, I’m GETTING FUCKED PROMOTED!” You wince at the scale of her voice, side bleeding out still as Whitby does his best to apply pressure, offering a remorseful smile as you wince at the pressure. Soon a scream is heard as you look around to see where it is coming from, Whitby's eyes go wide, his shoulders still and his hand dropping from your side- blood pouring out at your shoes.

His body falls, turned towards the sky as he observes the clouds in a peaceful state, you are frozen in horror, knees falling as you grip at his jacket and scream. The medical crew from behind you shoves you aside and the helicopter roars to life once more, its wind whipping your back hardly as you shiver with the impact. You swear to be underwater once more. Your hands wet, your skin cold and lungs burning for air. Another shot rings out from a nearby balcony in response, the thought to be dead body finally perishing as you twitch away from the sound, stumbling to a stand as you run back down the alleyway, Gaz and Price hot on your feet.

Samantha calls for you, yet you swipe the call away and rush back into the city centre, acting just as those annoying tourists and run across the street without checking, horns honking and voices swearing out yet you remain unrelenting and continue your run. “Stop! Daniels- PLEASE,” Kyle yells out from behind you, stopping to listen to whatever Samantha was reporting as he looks back towards the seaside and up towards your running from. Cursing out he is forced to run back to help Johnny to kill-confirm the people in the car.

John still carries on after you, hopping over the hood of a car hot on your heels. You can barely hear the word he yells out up towards you. You wonder what the locals think of you, bloody and bruised as a man yells out for you to stop for him- maybe an abusive newly-weds. Your mind goes dark, shaking your head as you take a turn into a dark street. The buildings untaken care-of. Their white paint peeling off the bricks, the roof filled with holes and you don’t even wish to know what liquid drops onto your head as you lean against the wall, taking a breather.

Your hands shake in guilt, your rip the jacket from our shoulder, “FUCK!” you scream out, hands gripping at your hair, threatening to tear it at the seams as you slam yourself into the wall in front of you, needing the feedback of the pain as a reminder. I killed my partner, you think to yourself, that dark little vice protruding through your consciousness. “I killed my parenter, I FUCKIN KILLED HIM!” you yell out into a sob, kicking the rocks at your feet before falling to your knees and letting out a guttural scream.

A deep chuckle sounds from beside you, your shoulders flying themselves upwards as you cringe at the tone. “A Murderer we have here,” they speak, their voice echoing in the dark small space you find yourself in. Their body heat warms your wet back, you shiver- the reminder of Whitby's arms around your frame. “And a gorgeous one at that,” they whisper, spit flying into your ear as you shove weakly at their face, returning to a fight stance as your body fights to keep itself uprising- exhaustion setting in your bones as you hear John calling for you just down the street, out-of-breath.

“Did you know how much money I lost today?” they coldly ask you, teeth shining under the small light that gets flickered on overhead, an apartment stunning to life with the commotion you have caused. “But a person like you, oh-ho-ho,” they chuckle, forming a sharp grip at your neck as your hands fly to grip theres- black spots forming in your vision as your feet begin to sway over the ground. “You would surely get me at least a quarter of that back, and I think I know just the right dealer…” you couldn’t hear what further they had to say. Body limp and being thrown into a bag at the back of a landscaping truck.

John hears the wheels turn as he manages to get to the alley way, cursing out he sees no signs of life and places a finger to his ear. “Samantha, this is Price.”

“Yes, John?”

“We have Handler Daniels MIA…”

↳ Taglist: @thriving-n-jiving @cringeycookies @lilliumrorum @brokenpieces-72 @ashy-kit @notsaelty @hindi-si-ikay @sleepyycatt @no-lessthan3 @yuujisbearx @cod-z

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mrshipsmcgee · 2 years

Text

Cursed: Volume 1

Stranger Things x Female Reader

Volume 2 Volume 3 Finale Series Navigation

Summary: Closing up shop at the arcade marks the beginning of the end with the tolling of a grandfather clock. Or did the beginning of the end start in March of 1983? Are you somehow connected to all of this that’s going on in Hawkins?

Warnings: scary themes, mentions of murder, mentions of suicide, description of a panic attack, cursing, fluff, spoilers for Stranger Things 4.

Please, support your writers with comments, reblogs and likes - let me know how you liked this! And if you’d like more? Just kidding, you’re getting more whether you like it or not because this shit is long as hell. ;)

Crossposted on AO3

Friday March 21st 1986 9:52 PM Hawkins, Indiana

“The Palace Arcade is closing in eight minutes. If any of you crotch goblins are still here when that clock hits ten o’clock I’m calling the cops! Thanks!” Keith’s voice booms over the intercom as he slumps lazily on a stool behind the counter eating chips.

“Seriously?” You sigh at your boss as you walk past him and take the small microphone in your grasp, covering it as you whisper, “Keith - Mrs. McCall called again complaining about you scaring her seven year old yesterday.. You know you do own an arcade and a movie rental place now, maybe you should learn to like kids..”

“No, no, no - me owning both of these fine establishments means that I don’t have to like anyone. I just hire nice people like you and Robin, even Harrington now to do my bidding,” Keith says, fumbling his hand in the bag of chips placed on the counter in front of him. You roll your eyes, sighing again before clearing your throat and leaning down to speak into the microphone, “Hey gamers! If you still need to call your parents or guardians to let them know to come pick you up, please feel free to come to the counter to use our phone!”

Keith rips the microphone from your hands and speaks quickly into it, “Or better yet! You can use the pay phone outside! Time's a tickin!”

“Keith!” You exclaim, putting your palm over the mic. “Stop being so mean! I’m taking away your intercom privileges.” The tall man rolls his eyes as he stands from the stool, “You know what? How about you close up shop since you seem to be so passionate about not traumatizing these perfect little demons, hm? Do my bidding?”

Your heart dropped.

God, you hated closing by yourself…

“Sure,” you say quickly, trying to force a smile - “Have a good night Keith.”

“Mhm,” he hums - his hand seemingly shooing you away as he walks out the door and into the night

“Miss?” A small voice says as your attention is drawn back to the counter where four small children stood across from you. You smile widely, leaning your forearms onto the countertop as you eye the kids, “Well, hi there gamers, how can I help you?”

“We need to call our parents.. Can we call in here please? It’s scary outside..” A small boy says. “Well, of course! The real question is can I trust you four to call your rides while I shut down the arcade?” The children nod in agreement as you high five them, “Awesome - I’ll be back. Yell if you need me.”

You begin to walk away as you hear a small voice whisper, “Arcade lady?”

“Yeah?”

“You are really nice to us,” a small boy said with a shy smile.

“Well - why wouldn’t I be?” You let out a breathy chuckle as your brows furrow. “You guys are totally awesome and you’re all nice to me. And you are all far better than I am at these ridiculously hard games and you choose to like me still?! Look - I’ll be right back and whenever I come back we can talk about each of your favorite games before you guys have to leave, does that sound good?” The kids excitedly nod as you turn on your heels, starting to walk towards the back of the vibrant arcade and routinely beginning to turn off lights as you check the back rooms and bathrooms for any stray kids.

“Any stragglers back here? We’re about to close and I would hate for you to have to stay the night in a dark arcade all by yourself!” You call out, flipping off the last group of light switches and shutting off the remaining games. “Okay, kiddos! Last - call...” You trail off noticing that the fluorescent lights above you start to blink on and off, twinkling like stardust off of your furrow-browed gaze.

“Weird..”

You turn to walk back towards the front of the building only to be stopped dead in your tracks by the toll of a loud, distorted bell - echoing through your chest as your attention is brought to that of a grandfather clock towering above you.

Lights start to flash and blink all around you. Arcade games turn back on, blaring music and sounds - startling you further before everything turns dark all at once, leaving you standing in the middle of a pitch black arcade.

The distorted bell rang out again, chilling you to the core. Your eyes dart around the darkened building, growing more nervous realizing you’re completely alone in the darkness.

Alone.

Or so you thought.

Your name is spoken loudly - booming from across the room. Heavy feet hit the ground. Step after step.

Boom.

Wet, heavy footsteps growing louder, closer.. until they stop. It’s silent again. Nothingness. Not a sound besides a low ticking coming from right in front of you.

You can feel the presence of something standing right in front of you, though it’s entirely too dark to tell. You’re too afraid to speak, to breath, to run. You just stand helpless and hopeless, hands clenched in tight fists - gripping whatever shred of courage you had left in the palm of your hand.

The low voice growls your name, causing you to fall backwards, palms hitting the floor as you let out a hiss. “Please - leave me alone,” you whisper as hot tears start to form in your eyes.

Harshly blinking the tears away, your eyes adjust to the darkness, making out the silhouette of a tall man standing in the middle of the arcade. “Your suffering is almost at an end,” the voice boomed, now coming from what felt like only a breath away.

“Who are you?!” You scream, clenching your jaws as you begin to scoot backwards, still on the floor. You see nothing but darkness as the bell tolls loudly in your ears yet again, “Please!”

You find the courage to hoist yourself off of the arcade floor, clumsily running towards the front of the arcade - too afraid to turn around as the bell ring out louder and louder - a low rumbling seems to erupt from all around just as your palms make contact with the glass door. Something wraps around your ankles, yanking you back to the floor as you scream, fingernails digging into the carpeted floor underneath as a force drags you back into the dimly lit arcade.

The voice spoke your name again - this time booming in a deep, raspy growl - echoing off of the faces of the surrounding arcade games.

“Join me, and become whole again. Join me and your suffering ends.”

“Leave me alone!!” You scream, harshly kicking away the force dragging you deeper into the arcade. You stumble as you clumsily stand and begin running away from the being hiding behind you in the darkness. “You cannot run from me.” The voice booms again as you scream, throwing yourself towards the exit of the arcade. Your palms slap against the glass door as you run into the night air, coming to a screeching halt as your body collides with someone.

Strong arms safely wrap around you - catching you before you can fall. “Woah! Are you okay?”

You look to the person holding you, making direct eye contact with- “S-Steve?” You whisper, blinking back tears as you look at the beautiful man staring back at you, his brows furrowed in confusion as he seemed to study you.

A warm, almost knowing small smile spreads across his perfect face as you watch his chocolate eyes seem to glance over every feature of your face, stopping at the curve of your lips before he abruptly clears his throat.

Steve stands up a little straighter, glancing to the arcade before looking back to you - seeing the tears in your eyes. He speaks, his voice low, “What’s wrong?”

“Is everything okay?” A woman’s voice rang out, your head whipping around to see her face. “Steve, what happened? Is she okay?” The short haired woman asked, her voice laced with concern. “Do I need to call the cops?”

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, looking you in the eyes before he glanced over to the woman. “Hold off for a sec, okay Robin?” She nods, looking to you before she shows a small smile.

“I- I’m so sorry. I - I - I just, I got a little spooked closing up by myself is all. Thanks for your concern..,” your voice still shakes as you look down, seeing Steve Harrington’s hands wrapped around your forearms. “I just - where are the four kids? I’m so worried. They were-“

“Picked up,” Robin interrupts, seeming to notice your still remaining fear trapped behind your eyes. “They were picked up about ten minutes ago. Are you sure you’re okay?” You begin to pull away from Steve as you look at Robin, ”it’s - no big deal. Really. Thank you for being concerned, but I should probably get home now.”

“Hey,” Steve says as his thumbs rub against your skin. “Look at me,” Steve says as you bring up your eyes to meet him.

Steve is gazing at you, his face so worried and his voice so small as he whispers, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You look at Robin before your eyes meet Steve’s again, “I hope you two have a great rest of your night. Thank you so much for worrying about me. Really. But I’ve got to get home...” Steve slowly released you from his gentle touch, flashing you a shy smile. Robin stood beside him, arms crossed as they watched you walk away, hop into your car and drive off to your home in Forest Hills Trailer Park.

“Well, Arcade Girl may have been spooked, but damn did she look good,” Robin joked as she and Steve get into his car. “Oh, so you’re into Arcade Girl, too?” Steve asks as he cranks the car and begins to drive. “I thought you said she was too old for you?”

“Class of 84 cannot be that old! Also - what does it matter to you if I changed my mind on thinking if a girl is hot or not?” Robin retorts before she lets out a small gasp. “-Unless you too have a crush on Arcade Girl?” Steve rolls his eyes, “no, no. I just.. you see how - how great she is with all of the arcade kids. And she’s pretty. And-.”

“-And you have a crush on her!” Robin says, Steve rolls his eyes as he drives, “I do not have a crush! Put your damn seatbelt on. I swear, you’re worse than Henderson.” “Oh, come on, Harrington! Don’t you try to change the subject! Every time I have a crush, you end up crushing on them as well! Don’t make this Tammy Thompson all over again! Let me have this one thing!”

“This isn’t Tammy Thompson! This is Arcade Girl. It’s different,” Steve protested. Robin’s palm playfully slaps Steve’s forearm, gasping sarcastically at Steve, “How the hell is she any different than Tammy Thompson?! You and I both have a crush, what’s different-“

“-Arcade Girl and I have history together! Okay?!” Steve says quickly, just as he pulls up to the Buckley residence - turning towards Robin’s already curious face. “Happy?”

“Oh, no no no, Popeye. You and arcade girl have a history together? Since when? And why didn’t you mention this before?” Steve rolls his eyes at Robin before he speaks, “It was in 84..”

“Spill.” Robin smiles, adjusting herself in the passenger seat to better see Steve - resting her chin on her fists as she braces her elbows on the middle console of Steve’s car.

“Okay, fine,” Steve exhales, running his fingers through his hair. “After I dropped Henderson off at the Snowball in 84 I- I saw Nance.. Our breakup was still fresh, and I knew she wanted Jonathan - she’s good with Jonathan, happy with Jonathan… I knew that even then..” Steve breathed again, shaking his head as he continues. “I went and parked my car against the tree line of the parking lot by the school and just.. cried. I - I know it’s silly, but at the time seeing Nance and realizing she chose Jonathan over me..I just - I knew I would just never be enough for her. And then I started thinking about how I feel like I’m never enough for my parents, or - or for school.. and then Nance happened.. And I thought I wasn’t enough for anybody..”

Robin’s demeanor changed as Steve clears his throat, “I just - I cried and cried.. man, I must’ve cried for twenty minutes.. and then someone knocked on the window of my car. And I looked up and it was Arcade Girl.”

Steve pauses for a moment before he whispers your name, smiling softly as he continues to speak, “And she just smiled at me, her - her face was so beautiful and she was smiling at me. So I - I opened up the car door and got out. And we just talked. We sat on the hood of my car and talked the entire night. She wanted to check on me and she told me that how I was feeling was okay and normal, but that it was a lie and that I was enough as I am.. and that if people didn’t love me or appreciate me then they were stupid and wrong and I needed to find better friends.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, sighing as a small blush warms his cheeks, “When the dance ended they played one last song for the night. A slow song. And we - we ended up slow dancing and she just felt so - so perfect in my arms. And then she had to leave and I was alone again, and I - I wish I would have done more because there’s just.. there’s something about her.. I still think about her and-“

“Oh my god.. are you in love with Arcade Girl?” Robin smiled widely. “You’re in love with Arcade Girl and refuse to do a thing about it!? That’s what was going on back there?!”

“I am not in love with Arcade Girl. I just - appreciate her,” Steve replies. “Now get the hell out of my car, Buckley. I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.”

“Fine, fine.. but if you don’t do anything about Arcade Girl, I will.. because you’re in love with her!” She jeers, poking Steve in the chest before opening up the passenger door and getting out of the car. “See you tomorrow, lover boy!”

“Oh, shut up!”

—

The stars were beautiful on nights like tonight; clear skies gleaming brightly, shining down on you as you stare up - face to face with the abyss of the galaxy as you lay on the top of a picnic table in the middle of the trailer park.

“What is the meaning of life?” A sarcastic voice rang out from behind you, causing you to sit up - bracing yourself on your forearm as you turn to greet, “Max! There’s my girl.” You cheer, sitting up and spinning yourself around to face the redhead. “Hi,” she smiles. You smile widely, patting the tabletop below you, “Come here and tell me about your day, why don’t ya?”

Max sits beside you, trilling her fingertips on her knee, “Oh you know - my day was like everyday.. Shit.”

“Well, I really hate to hear that.. Did you try to talk to Lucas?”

“God, no,” Max says quickly, diverting her eyes from yours. “Hey, it’s okay - we don’t have to talk about Lucas. I just want to make sure you’re okay is all. Trauma buddies, remember?” You joke, playfully tapping the cassette player sitting in Max’s lap. “How is the Kate Bush cassette treating you? I hope just as well as it treated me.”

“Yeah,” she smiles softly, fidgeting with the tape player in her hands. “There are a few songs that really speak to me. It’s like she knows how I’m feeling.”

“I get that.. There’s one song on there, I’m pretty sure it’s a love song.. but it works for me? Kate Bush can do no wrong. I need to get you on Pink Floyd or Jim Croce.. have you ever tried listening to Metallica? I’m on a Metallica kick currently.. It’s a little heavy, but I think you’ll like them-.”

You and Max turn towards the sounds of screeching tires seeing your neighbor, Eddie, pulling up his van in front of his trailer.

He gets out of the van, quickly ushering someone out of the passenger seat. “Holy shit, is that Chrissy Cunningham?” Max says, turning towards you. “I’d know that hair from anywhere.. that's definitely Chrissy,” you whisper, nodding your head as you watch the two scurry into the trailer, “The real question is what in the hell is Chrissy Cunningham doing with Eddie?”

“Who the hell knows. Look, I’ve got to go back inside.. my Mom, she’ll freak out if I’m gone too long,” Max says, standing and holding out her hand, cupping it into the shape of a C - her thumb curved downward, “See you tomorrow?” “See you tomorrow,” you say, holding up a cupped hand to hers to make a heart before you stand and pull her in for a hug. “Look,” you say, holding her in a warm embrace, your voice a bit muffled from the tight squeeze. “Don’t you ever forget, if you need me for anything, yell - or call. I’m always here for you. You or your mom. Okay, kiddo?”

You finally pull away, brushing a stray hair from Max’s eyes. “Okay, maybe I should be calling you Mom,” Max jokes, playfully rolling her eyes as she starts to walk backwards away from you. “Yeah, yeah - go inside before your actual Mom kills me! Goodnight!” You wave before sitting back down on the picnic table, laying out on the table top, just as you did before - gazing at the stars again.

“Chrissy!” You hear Eddie’s muffled screams coming from inside of his trailer.

Turning, your eyes see the trailer’s lights blinking, just like before at the arcade.. Eddie’s screams continue before the front door slams open and he runs to the driver’s side door of his van. You watch as he throws himself inside, peeling away from the trailer park and down the road into the night.

Where was Chrissy?

Your heart raced as you stood, slowly walking towards the open-door trailer before your feet started moving faster, starting to run to the door.

You shouldn’t have run to the door.. Why did you always have to be so damn curious?

A clap of nausea struck through your gut the instant your eyes fell upon the monstrosity before you. A familiar, broken monstrosity. A nightmare..

“Oh my god,” you whispered seeing Chrissy lying on the floor of Eddie’s trailer. Her arms and legs were snapped, her jaw broken, her eyes burst and bleeding.. The sight made you fall to the ground, gripping the grass below you in your fists as you scream, crying out in agony.

Memories flash before your eyes, upsetting you further as you collect yourself from the ground and run back to your trailer and barricade yourself inside. You slink against the door and into the floor, screaming loudly as hot tears stream down your cold cheeks. “No!”

The image of Chrissy’s broken body was the only thing you could see whenever you closed your eyes. Her once beautiful and kind eyes now bloodied and empty.

“Not again…” you whisper. “Please - no not again…”

Memories come flooding back. The bloody hardwood floor.. the broken bodies…

Tears stream down your face as you cling to yourself, sobbing into the crook of your arm - hoping to find a small shred of safety in your own touch.. wishing you could be swept up in another’s arms, wanting to feel a sense of belonging.

“Please… No…”

—

The sounds of sirens wake you, quickly sitting up off of the floor of your trailer with a gasp. Morning light poured through the window of your trailer. The sirens continued, bringing you to your feet as you spy through the blinds of your window and out towards Eddie’s trailer. Police cars were scattered around, police men held crowds of curious neighbors back as more people began to crowd around.

Your thoughts are nothing but of Eddie and Chrissy. Watching them go inside of Eddie’s trailer and only Eddie coming out. Your mind replays seeing Chrissy’s body laying on the floor, broken and bleeding - a disfigured and twisted version of what once was a beautiful and kind girl. A girl you had known since her freshman year of high school.

You had known Eddie even longer than Chrissy. Eddie Munson, your friend since sixth grade. Your friend all because Eddie punched that asshole Tommy Hagan in the face after he slapped your ass in the hallway in front of quite literally everyone at Hawkins Middle. Eddie has always come to your defense, been your greatest protector since. Especially whenever you lost your grandparents in 83. Even when Eddie fell behind and didn’t graduate, the two of you stayed thick as thieves, always watching out for one another and having spend the night parties in your trailer.

The phone rings, pulling you from your thoughts and back to reality. You rush, abruptly picking up the phone and saying, “Hello?”

“Hey - I can’t make it to the arcade today, I need you to come in and cover the shift,” Keith’s voice came through the speaker, cutting you off before you could even get a word in. “And I can’t take no for an answer. See you in twenty minutes.”

The line ends.

Cursing under your breath you quickly change into different clothes, grab your things and get into your car - driving off to the exit of the trailer, only to be stopped by a cop.

“You can’t leave,” he says, leaning against your car. “I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Sir, please..” you whisper up to the man. “I - it’s just me. I have to go to work or I can’t pay my bills. Please. I have to go to work.”

The officer is reluctant but let’s you leave, sending you down the road and into the heart of downtown Hawkins, Indiana.

—

Only six people came into the arcade within the span of eight hours. The only real thing keeping you company was the pregame music coming from the surrounding arcade games and the muffled television playing the local news.

Like clockwork, each person that came into the arcade came up to the counter and chatted with you about the murder in Hawkins. Word travels fast in a small town. One after the other, person after person knew more than the last.. Telling you more information about what you already knew and worrying more and more about Eddie as the hours passed.

People are curious, you know.

A young boy - probably around thirteen, came up to the counter and gave you his tokens in exchange for some candy. He flashed you a smirk before he leaned across the counter, whispering, “You’re friends with Eddie Munson, right?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer, spitting out, “Did you hear Eddie “The Freak” Munson murdered Chrissy Cunningham last night?”

That was it.

You had to find Eddie.

Quickly ushering the boy from the arcade, your palms smack lights off, ignoring the arcade games as you run out of the building, locking the door behind you before running towards your car and driving away towards the nearest gas station.

—

Glasses clink together as you walk through the forest after parking your car near a dock on Lover’s Lake. The flashlight you gripped in your hand bounced off of your thigh - shaking light illuminating your green path to your one and only stop, Reefer Rick’s currently vacant house.

You know Eddie too well. You and Eddie had hung out here far too many times before trying to escape reality for a few hours for this to not be his perfect hideout. Tucked away and sitting vacant near the lake. Perfect.

Your grassy path turned to paved concrete as you made your way to the house, shining the bright light into the dirty windows.

Nothing.

“Come on.. Where are you, Eds?” You breathe, walking past the house and towards the boathouse. You stop dead in your tracks hearing voices coming from the structure.

What if Eddie was in trouble? What if whoever murdered Chrissy is in there with him? You couldn’t leave your best friend alone like this.

Creeping towards the door you steady your breath, turn off your flashlight and grip it in your palm - moving quietly before your hand hits the door handle to the boathouse.

With not another thought you fling the door open, wielding your flashlight in your hand as if it were a sword ready for battle as you step into the boathouse. Your eyes meet Eddie’s before a force takes you to the ground with a thud, knocking the air out of you - the beer bottles you had brought Eddie crashing all around your head.

“Holy shit, Harrington!” You hear Eddie scream. Your eyes open, meeting Steve Harrington’s gaze, quickly noticing his body fully pressed against yours, and the hard ground against your back as he lays on top of you.

A group of teenagers run over to the scene, the familiar faces of Robin, Max and Eddie gaze down at you.

“I am so sorry,” Steve stands, brushing off his hands on his pants before extending his arm to you - only for Robin to reach in front of him and help you up instead, brushing off the back of your shirt and hair before saying, “Great job, Harrington. Glad you still have what it takes to take a woman to the ground via body slam. I’ll make sure your next date knows to wear a helmet.”

“Who is random girl?” A curly haired boy asks as he approaches where you, Max, Eddie, Steve and Robin stood. “We can’t bring anyone else into this.. she has to go,” he says, matter of fact, placing his hands on his hips.

“She’s cool, Dustin,” Max nods, leaning herself into you. “Calm down!”

“How do I know that?” Dustin asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Because she’s my best friend,” Eddie pipes up. “And she’s seen me shit myself and throw up at the same time after too many beers and still chooses to be my friend.”

“I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone about that?” You whisper, side eying Eddie as he rolls his eyes. “Eh - everyone probably thinking I murdered Chrissy, what’s telling people I shit myself going to do?”

“That’s why I came looking for you,” you reply, hurriedly speaking to your friend. “I came here because I know you didn’t do this. There’s no way an actual person could have done that to her.”

“Wait, how do you know what happened?” Steve asks, him and Dustin both now standing with their hands on their hips as the seemingly gawk at you.

“She’s our neighbor,” Max says, pointing her fingers towards herself and Eddie. “She lives right in between us.”

“She makes us cookies on Thursdays,” Eddie says with a small smile as he looks at you, placing his palm on the back of your head.

“These two dorks write your stupid campaigns on Thursday nights too,” Max says, sarcastically rolling her eyes.

“So that’s why we don’t have dnd on Thursdays..” Dustin murmurs under his breath. “What’s your class and level, Arcade Girl?” The boy smiles villainously, like he had trapped you in his question awaiting a stupid reply.

“You must be the infamous Dustin Henderson I hear so much about. Well, Dustin - I am a chaotic good, half elf, sorceress - level 14,” you say with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “How did you like the latest campaign?”

Dustin is quiet for a moment before he whispers, “Fine.”

“Fine?” Eddie retorts. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“She’s cool I guess.. And if she is sticking around you two might want to sit down for this conversation..” you and Eddie sit down beside the window of the boathouse as the group surrounds you, Dustin sits right in front of you. His voice is calm as he says, “well, what I’m about to tell you might be difficult to believe..”

Dustin tells the two of you about his friend named Eleven and how she had super powers and about Hawkins Lab and the Upside Down. He talked about his friend Will disappearing and Barbara dying. You didn’t think things could get worse until he brought up the Mind Flayer and what it did to all of those people in Hawkins - how the Starcourt Mall was really a Russian government coverup in hopes of creating a gate to the Upside Down.

Each bit of information worries you more. Each new detail reminds you of the day that still haunts you.. now Chrissy’s death makes that day feel just as fresh as it did in 1983.

“Now what did you see when that happened to Chrissy?” Dustin asks. “Dust particles? Smoke?”

“Nothing - I saw nothing,” Eddie breathes, tears start to form in his eyes. “It was like she was in a trance.. or - or a spell.”

“Or a curse..” Dustin whispers. “Vecna’s curse..”

The two continue talking about this undead creature of great power that curses people, wondering if that could be what happened to Chrissy.

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve’s voice whispers from behind you. You turn, looking up at where he stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed - almost as if he were standing guard behind you as he looks down at you. “This is a lot of information to learn at once, just wanted to make sure you’re okay. It’s okay if you aren’t okay.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you smile weakly. “It is a lot of information to learn in one sitting.”

“So.. here’s the thing. I gotta get home, my Mom will freak out if I’m not home in the next fifteen minutes to let her know I’m alive. With everything going on I didn’t realize it had gotten so late, I’m sorry,” Max says to the group. “Could someone drive me home? I can stick around, my mom is just weird since Billy..”

“I’ll take you,” both you and Steve say simultaneously - quickly looking at one another before turning back to Max.

“Honestly, I don’t think anyone needs to be alone right now,” Robin says. “What if we all crashed here with Eddie?”

“Not happening,” Steve shakes his head. “Someone has to take Max home.”

“What if you all came to my trailer and stayed the night? I have food and drinks and we can watch a movie or something to calm our nerves,” you suggest, looking up to the surrounding teens. “What do you think? I have board games!”

“What about Eddie?” Dustin says.

“Shit! You’re right,” you whisper. “What about Eddie?”

“We can just leave him here,” Steve quietly suggests. The group turns to him. “No one is going to be left behind - alone - with all of this shit going on in Hawkins again,” Robin retorts. “We got past russian guards once, I think we can get Eddie past Hawkins’ Police Department.”

—-

And that you did. You, Steve, Robin, Max and Dustin snuck Eddie past the police and into your trailer with ease all thanks to a hair tie.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you whisper, smiling as you look at Eddie sitting on your couch staring back at you with a soft smile plastered across his face. “I can’t believe we just snuck you past the cops…”

“You’ve gone bad,” Eddie joked, taking his hair out from the hair tie.

“Ha! She’s gone bad? Never in a million years,” Max sits on the couch beside him as they both make themselves at home, just like they do any night they come over. “She’s too pure. Could you guys not hear her jaws grinding from stress the entire car ride here? She can’t handle the pressure.”

“We all were squished so close together in Harrington’s car, I heard things I didn’t even want to hear,” Eddie jokes, playfully slapping Dustin’s back. “Like whatever the hell is going on in Henderson’s stomach. You might need to get that checked out, man.”

“Very funny,” Dustin shrugs, rolling his eyes at Eddie. “Well, if you’re planning to stick with us, sneaking Eddie past cops is nothing compared to what could possibly be to come,” Dustin says as he and Robin start to look around your trailer. He grabs a toy from a nearby shelf, still in the package - holding it up and gazing at it, “Wait.. Is this real?”

“Do you think I’d have fake Star Wars action figures still in the box sitting on display in my home?” You retort.

Steve lets out a small laugh, looking back at you as he walks past you and sits on the couch right beside Max, “I see Dustin’s finally met his match.”

“Oh my god,” Robin says, holding up a vinyl record. “You have the entire Woodstock Concert Series recordings? When all of this is said and done I’m coming over and we’re listening to this one day. Hell, multiple days. We can have food, we can make a week out of it. How we- how would we work? Who - ya know, who needs work whenever we could just listen to the entire Woodstock recordings? I wonder if it has the thunder storm that came through recorded on the…” she pauses, snarling her nose and making a face before eyeing Steve, “Oh god, I’m doing it again.. my mouth won’t stop.”

You laugh, “Honestly, you could have kept going and I would have kept listening. We definitely need to do that. You could even sleep here! I haven’t had a sleepover in years! My bed is super comfortable.”

“Hey now!” Steve says abruptly, his eyes darting back and forth between you and Robin, noticing Robin was making a face at him. “Uh.. I -,” he looks around, quickly grabbing the remote from the coffee table and awkwardly holding it up, giving a weak smile. “I found the remote! Hey now!”

“Hey!” Robin loudly cheers, her eyes widen before looking back at you. “Yay!”

“You guys are funny,” you say with a smile, staringt to back away from them, “I’m gonna go make some kind of food for us. Who’s hungry?”

“Me!” Eddie and Dustin yell.

“Oh my god, you have a bass guitar? You play instruments too?” Robin picks up the red instrument, putting the strap over her shoulder and strumming the strings before looking back up to you. “What do you not do? Are you actually the most perfect human?”

“She doesn’t run, I mean, she can - it just looks weird,” Eddie jokes, standing from the couch and walking towards you. “And she’s lactose intolerant and she’s scared of clowns. She isn’t perfect, but she tries to be.” He opens the fridge, grabs a beer and heads over to sit back on the couch. “But she is a good cook. And she is a killer bass player, even though she doesn’t play in my band anymore.”

“I wanna hear you play,” Robin smiles. “I want to hear you both play. You have to join the band again, Arcade Girl. Please. Do it for me. I wanna see you slap da bass.”

“Maybe,” you say, preparing food. “It’s been a while.”

”Holy shit, it smells so good in here, I’m starving,” Dustin says. “I am so excited to eat. Thank you for cooking for us.”

“Ah, Dustin is a fan of Arcade Girl now he knows he is being fed,” Robin jokes, still strumming the bass’ strings - bouncing her brows as she looks at Dustin. “I too am very thankful for this food that you’re making us.You are so…” she turns to Steve, “…maternal and warm. And might I say that I love your hair.”

“Thank you, Robin. You are so nice,” you smile. “So, who all is staying the night?” You ask, starting to count hands in the air. “Oh, all of you. Perfect.”

Mr. Mom plays quietly on your small television as you are surrounded by a group of sleeping teenagers with bellies’ full of warm food. Eddie is asleep on the floor beside Dustin, Robin is asleep in the Lay-Z-Boy, Max’s head is in your lap - finally asleep.

“They’re all kinda cute whenever they’re asleep,” Steve whispers from where he sat on the couch beside you. Max’s constant adjusting before ultimately falling asleep on you pushed you right beside Steve, hip to hip.

You look around the room before your eyes meet his, “You’re right. Even if they kinda snore, they are cute.” Your fingers brush hair from Max’s forehead as you look down at her, studying the freckles kissing her porcelain skin.

“She loves you,” Steve says. “I think we all do.”

“You think?” Your cheeks grow warm, looking at Steve again. “Oh - I.. you’re probably so uncomfortable,” you pause, slightly adjusting realizing that your elbow is pressing into Steve. “Let me just-.”

“No, let me - Max looks comfortable,” Steve adjusts, placing his strong arm around where you sat beside him - wrapping perfectly around your shoulders. “Is this okay?”

The nearness of Steve made your heart race in the best way, feeling your bodies starting to melt into one another where you sat on the couch. Steve was warm, he smelled of musk and sandalwood. You could feel his heart racing as your eyes meet his once more.

He’s so close.

So handsome.

He looks into your eyes, gazing into them before he pulls his vision from yours, clearing his throat and looking around your trailer.

“This is impressive,” Steve whispers.

“What? My trailer?” You scoff. ”It’s not really that impressive if you knew the story.”

Dread washes over you as the low toll of a bell.. the same sound from back at the arcade last night rings out around you. Your head whips around the room, looking for any signs of the grandfather clock from before.

“I’d love to hear about it,” Steve shrugs, adjusting himself even closer to you. “You know, if you ever wanna ya know talk about it. Or - or explain it. I mean, you’re almost two years out of high school and you own your own trailer. I’m a year out of high school and all I have to show is me working at Family Video. I could use help getting my shit together, so I’m open to advice.”

Steve noticed the change in your demeanor, seeing your shifting eyes and feeling your heart start to race. “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry if I’m - I'm too close.”

Tell him.

You let out a soft chuckle, “no, it’s okay - It’s nothing special and the story is sad. I won’t bore you with it. I do wish I had some kind of advice for you.”

“Hey,” he breathes, looking around your home. “This is incredible and I’m used to sad stories now. If you wanna share, I’m all ears. I’ve got plenty of sad stories to share. And if you don’t wanna share, that’s okay, too.”

Tell him.

“Steve.. I promise you, it’s not a good story. There is already enough negative stuff going on all around us,” you protest, looking down at Max again as you brush through the end of her pulled back hair.

“Do you remember me?” You whisper, eyes still on Max.

“Of course I remember you.. how - how could I forget someone like you?” Steve whispers. “Ya know, I should have added something to that list of things Eddie said you can do. The list of things you’re good at.”

“Yeah?” The pads of your thumb caresses Max’s brow, too nervous to look at Steve.

His face leans closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “I would add that I think you’re a fantastic dancer.. and I’d love to do it again sometime.”

Your face turns, nose brushing against Steve’s as you eyes meet his. “You do remember…”

“Of course I remember,” he smiles before he whispers your name. “I think I’ll always remember you.”

Steve’s heart is drumming against your body as he licks his lips, “Steve, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The bell rings out again, though you choose to ignore it.

“Okay,” he nods, eyes locked on yours. “You can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’m all ears.”

“Are you guys about to kiss?!” Robin screeches, waking the group from their slumber. You and Steve pull away from one another, immediately looking away and down at your feet.

Max sits up, her sleepy eyes staring at you and Steve, “Holy shit!”

“Guys, please,” Steve says. “Leave her alone. It’s my fault, I-.”

You stand from where you sat beside Steve, walking across the room from the group and shaking your head.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks.

“You - you all need to know.. Steve asked how I live here by myself, so I’ll tell you. I need to tell all of you..” you breathe, balling your shaking hands into fists. “You deserve to know. You guys told me about everything, the Upside Down, Eleven… all of it. So, I need to tell you..

“Woah.. what are you talking about?” Robin sits up, worried as she watches you start to pace. “I was just messing with Steve more than you when I said that a second ago. I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“No, no.. it’s okay. It’s not that.. It’s just - I just..” your sad eyes flash to Max and Eddie, both staring up at you before your eyes shift to the hallway of your trailer, seeing a grandfather clock facing you - taunting you with its ringing. “I have something I need to tell you guys… something about my past. It’s why I’m in this trailer. I - I didn’t wanna bring it up because I don’t like talking about it, but then Steve asked and.. and… I know you guys now,” you clear your throat before continuing. “I didn’t wanna bring it up before at the boathouse because I didn’t want anyone's pity.. or for anyone to think of me differently.. but I hope - I think you guys won’t because you all have stuff too..”

Your eyes stare at the ground, too afraid to look at your friends.

“At first I didn’t think it mattered, that my story didn’t matter. But now I’m scared that it matters.. and I don't want my story to matter because that means that whatever this is - Vecna, the boogeyman... whoever this is that’s murdering people in Hawkins has been killing for years.”

Your chest starts to rise and fall trying to regulate your breathing - starting to feel light headed.

“Okay…. My mom died suddenly when I was a baby, a brain hemorrhage during labor. Right after she died I went to live with my only living relatives, my grandparents - my mom’s parents.. right here in Hawkins. Over near the Byers’ house on that big farmland. I lived with my grandparents from the time that mom died until around 1983.”

Your eyes glance over to Eddie, who was giving you a weak, downturned smile. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Go on, it’s okay.”

“Well, here’s the thing. Uh, Eddie and Max know this story, but it’s not the full story. They haven’t heard it.. no one actually knows the full story. And I thought what happened was nonsense until what happened with Chrissy and I learned about everything you guys have been through..” you shake your head as tears start to form in your eyes.

“I came home, it was Saturday March 5th 1983. It was cold, and dark when I got to the farmhouse. My grandparents normally waited for me on the wraparound porch whenever I had to either stay at school late or work late. I can still imagine them sitting there in their rocking chairs, my grandpa with a book and my grandma crocheting something beautiful as always. But, this time I showed up and no one was waiting on the porch, which I didn’t think too much of until I walked inside and smelled dinner burning and stepped in water coming all the way from the kitchen sink.”

You sigh, swallowing hard before speaking again.

“I shouldn’t have looked for them. I should have just called the cops. But like with Chrissy, I let my curiosity get the best of me. I - I walked deeper into the house and- and.. I found my grandma first. Her arms and legs were snapped in half, her jaw looked like it was dislocated.. and her eyes.. gone. Bloodied. It’s like they exploded. My grandpa was a room over, same exact thing. Same. The legs, the jaw, his eyes…” you start to cry. “It was the day before Will went missing and a few days before Barbara Holland died. The police handed the case over to some other people.. they said it was a murder suicide. They kind of just closed the case, even though I begged.. I pleaded. They just forgot about them, about me.. which is fine, it’s fine. Will was missing and then Barbara. I just.. I tried to forget about it like they did.. and I was doing good but then I saw Chrissy.”

“What..” Eddie breaths, blinking back tears.

“I uh - Hopper, he was the nicest. He set me up, he actually used to pay for me to live here so I had somewhere to stay. I don’t know why he was so kind to me.. but, he was. And he would visit me and make sure I had food. All he wanted was for me to graduate and get out of Hawkins.. And then he died too..” your voice cracks as panic courses through your veins - your heart feeling as if it were trying to drum itself out of your chest.

“Everyone I love dies. Everyone I get close to leaves me… I - I think I’m cursed somehow. And I needed to tell you guys that, I had to tell you guys before it got worse or - or it got to you. Or it got me..” your voice breaks again as you start to sob. “I don’t want you guys to die like everyone else. I- I have nothing… nothing besides you guys…”

Your hand grips your chest, feeling yourself spiraling into hyperventilation, your vision getting hazy around you as you gasp for air through your quickly closing throat.

“Oh shit!” Steve yells,

Eddie and Steve are the first ones to you, Eddie standing in front of you, his hand gently caressing your balled up fist you had to your side, spreading out your hand with his and holding it gently; Steve stands behind you, placing two fingers on the side of your neck to check your pulse, snaking his arm around your waist, “I think she’s having a panic attack.” He looks to Robin.

“Oh god,” Robin whispers, quickly getting up from the chair and running into the kitchen, “I’ll get some water.”

“She has these, but they’ve gotten worse lately.. I don’t know why,” Max says. “Try to sit her on the ground. Robin, grab some ice and wrap it in a towel, or grab some frozen food. Peas, broccoli, whatever.”

“Lean back on Steve, okay?” Eddie coos as both of the men slowly crouch to the carpeted floor of your trailer’s living room, both holding you in their grasp. Robin runs over with a glass of water and a bag of frozen peas, “got it.”

Eddie hands the water to Max, “What do I do with these?”

“Her chest. The cold will help her right now. She’ll feel like she can breathe,” she explains.

Steve sits behind you on the ground, legs spread as you sit - back laid against his chest as you continue to hyperventilate, feeling like you’re slipping further away from reality. He moves stray hair from your clammy face, blowing cold air from his pursed lips onto the back of your neck - his head cocked awkwardly to the side.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Eddie whispers, slowly placing the peas on your sternum. “Doesn’t that feel good? It’s going to be okay. Just look at me, please?” He sniffles as tears fall. “I hate seeing you like this, please - please it’s going to be okay.”

Max comes over, sitting on her knees as she grabs your hand. Dustin and Robin come closer, awaiting further instructions on how to help you. “Hey, everything is okay right now. Okay? We’re here.”

“Are you - you going to leave me?” You mutter through quick breaths.

“You’re stuck with us now,” Dustin whispers. “And when this is over we’re playing DND together.”

“And we’re going to listen to Woodstock!” Robin says sweetly.

Steve whispers in your ear, low enough for only you to hear, “And I’m going to be there for all of it, because all I want to be is beside you. Just lean back on me, it’s okay - I got you. We aren’t going anywhere.”

“You can’t get rid of us now,” Robin smiles, sitting on the ground. “And we’re going to stay with you until you’re better.”

“All of us,” Eddie wipes his tears, still holding one of your hands in his.

Your breathing slows, finally calming down as your tired body leans against Steve’s warm chest - gripping onto Eddie and Max’s hands as you smile. “I love you guys,” you sigh, looking at the group. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Well, you’re part of the group now - you’re basically family now. Part of our party.. We will always be here to help,” Dustin smiles. “Can’t get rid of us now.”

“I don’t think I want to,” you smile. “Thank you guys so much…”

“We’re going to figure this out,” Dustin assures you. “We always do.”

“And you’ll get to meet everyone else. They will love you, too!” Robin exclaims.

“Everyone else?”

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Sooooo, what did you think? Please PLEASE let me know. I worked so hard on this, and I love it so much and I’m so scared no one will read it or like it. I’m feeling insecure and your validation fuels me. I love you whoever is reading this. <3 - Cait

Let me know what you thought!

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dinoburger · 1 year

Text

But the Moment Just Slipped Through My Hands

submitting to the time honored tradition of Expiration Date fics - slightly Science Party flavoured. I just wanted to put it out there, ik maybe I could stand to sprinkle in more funny speech mannerisms for both Engie and Medic - maybe this will be for another day. I also wanted to illustrate more of it but I could save that for the Ao3 version...

2k words - more focused on Medic and Engie but there's a dash of HeavyMedic in there, not exactly shipping focused

(title is from Gone in an Instant - I hope nobody is keeping track of how many times I reference Black Dresses in various work bc I'm sure it's starting to add up)

-🍞-

The smell of bread had a tendency to float in the air in almost every corner of their current base of operations – fated to be their last, so they assumed – but was even thicker now in the already stuffy laboratory. Slightly more sour than usual too, due to the effects of the teleporter.

After they’d reported their findings to the rest of the team, the resident medic and engineer had hurried back to continue their work, hoping for more answers. It was natural, to both of them, but in the lulls between furiously experimenting, exchanging notes and prompting each other with questions about their respective areas of expertise, Dell found himself staring at the doctor with a pang of guilt.

The medic, as was usual when presented with cataclysmic disaster, confronted it with a mixture of stern determination and delighted morbid curiosity. Regardless, impending doom weighed heavy on the shorter’s shoulders.

“You don’t feel hard-done by, spending your last days cooped up in this here lab?” he scratched his neck, leaning back against the bench’s counter.

“If we had more time, maybe – but this is where I am needed most, ja?” the medic scribbled down several more notes, before he spared the engineer a glance. “What about you?”

“So long as I’m not gettin’ in your way.”

“Oh not at all, not at all.” he shook his head, “Really, it’s unfortunate I could not have gotten to know you better sooner – you have a brilliant mind, Herr Engineer.” the doctor’s lips quirked into a small, earnest smile, which caught Dell off guard.

“Aw shucks, Doc.” he retreated into himself a bit. “Just a shame I weren’t brilliant enough to figure out this whole teleporter mess m’self.”

“Ach, you couldn’t have known” Ludwig waved off, “and besides that, some of the greatest discoveries of our time have come at no small cost. What is it they say…? You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.”

It was true that medical science had it’s share of horrors, but even so, the doctor felt his optimism slip.

“I must confess, I might have been a touch… sloppy. You would think if something was wrong, the team doctor would be first to pick up on it." he scolded himself. "I am so grateful for the freedom of being out on the field, pushing the boundaries of science and medicine but I’m afraid I have gotten ahead of myself.”

“Heck, I’d say you’d done a dang good job keepin’ us alive so far - ‘spite some of our best efforts.” Dell grinned, which got a laugh out of Ludwig.

“M’ just wonderin’ if you didn’t have nobody special you wanted to see before you, y’know. Bit the dust, so to speak. I can keep things tickin’ over here just fine for a while.”

“Someone ‘special’…? Oh, don’t tell me.” Ludwig snorted. “Those silly rumours about my supposed ‘wife’ are still floating around.”

“I was a tad curious.”

“I might as well give the game up now, she’s not real – never was. I have no time for such things, but ach, some of our comrades are very nosy. It started off as a simple joke to keep them off my back, I didn’t think it would stick, so I never bothered to refute it.”

“I getcha, that makes a hell’ve a lot more sense.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” the man tensed, the amused glint in his eyes exchanged for something sharper and wary.

“Well, when the fellas get gossipin’ about the lady-folk, you never have a whole lot t’ say. Figured if you really did have a spouse waitin’ on ya you’d be more eager to brag.” Dell observed casually.

The doctor released a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. “Ah, is that all?”

“Y’know I’m not one to pry, doc. I respect ya too much.”

“Much appreciated.”

Dell paused, picking his next words more carefully. “More surprised you didn’t wanna say your goodbyes to that big fella – two of you seem mighty companionable.”

“Herr Heavy, I assume? We do work closely together, but... it’s hard to say we’re much more than colleagues.”

“You kiddin’? The man’s crazy ‘bout ya – you should see how he lights up the moment he lays eyes on ya. ‘S really somethin’ else.” Dell risked a smile and a sideways glance, the doctor’s face going soft with fondness.

“Well… I suppose I owe it to him to see if I can work this out in time.”

The engineer’s throat seized, his playful smile fading. He’d almost forgotten what the stakes were here.

For the next few minutes, Dell put his head down and worked in solemn silence, the guilt crushing his lungs and forbidding him to talk. He would only will himself to when the doctor had another question, they needed to deliberate their next course of action or sort out notes between each other.

When they’d worked into another lull in their rhythm, the taller of the two eyed up the other.

“...You didn’t have anyone you wanted to see before we expire?” The doctor returned the question.

The engineer shook his head, still half buried in a toolbox. “Nope. Wouldn’t’ve signed up t’ be a mercenary if I did, all part ‘n parcel." he took a breath, considering just biting his tongue again, but somehow leaving Ludwig in the dark felt worse. "Those Mann brothers found me through m’ grandpa, us Conaghers’ve been workin’ with ‘em for decades.”

“Really now?” Doctor Ludwig’s eyebrows twitched up, this was news to him.

Dell knew deep down he wasn’t supposed to talk about this, as mercenaries they were all on a need-to-know basis, but with how the situation was unfolding he found the words spilling out with ease.

“Uh-huh. Lotta his work was kept under lock and key though, up until I joined their employ. Though I can't say I agree with how they got 'em to begin with... it feels like I get ta take part in my heritage, going over his blueprints, studying his notes – like I’m really steppin’ into his shoes ‘n followin’ his footsteps.” the softer, reverent tone he’d taken petered out into a sigh. “I was hopin’ I’d be able t’ finish what he’d started, put an end to this gravel war. Looks like there’ll have to be another generation of recruits after us.”

“It’s still just a job, mein friend, you make of it what you can – and I would say you have gotten more out of it than most would.” the doctor added.

“It ain’t just a job to me.” Dell’s idle tinkering stopped, head hung. “I got all these ideas in my head that I could make it mean somethin', I'd shake things up, I'd make it count - buncha fanciful nonsense." his words took on a harsher edge as he wound himself up.

Doctor Ludwig found himself pausing too, observing the other’s hunched shoulders and arms stiffly gripping the bench.

“What kinda legacy am I leavin’? Maybe I’m just daydreaming, thinkin’ I’m half the man Radigan was. Would he really’ve made a mistake this darn stupid? Doomed all’a his men like this? The hell do I think I’m doin’ out here?” he spat, cursing himself.

Part of him had always known, every force was met with equal resistance, wins and losses balanced themselves out. The RED and BLU mercenaries were nothing but cogs in a much larger machine, to ends he couldn’t fathom.

He kept glaring down at the counter through his goggles, as if raising his head would reveal a great, dark vortex hanging above, deeper than he could possibly see, filled with terrible, grinding machinery. It would use them all up like fuel and spit them out into the ether.

“To hell with legacy.”

Doctor Ludwig broke the tangible silence that had fallen.

“To hell with the Mann brothers, to hell with your grandfather.”

The Conagher bristled and turned on him, mouth twisted into an offended snarl, posture like a coiled spring. “Beg yer pardon?”

“We cannot dictate what the tides of time will choose to spare.” the doctor’s expression was equally grave. “So I say to hell with them all. Your work is worthy, because your life is worthy.” he clamped his hands over either of the engineer’s shoulders, taking the man by surprise.

“I don’t care what kind of man this Radigan Conagher was, I am honoured to have spent this life with his grandson.”

That sent his head spinning.

Dell choked, not sure if he was about to cry or laugh, a shaky grin spread across his features and a wheeze escaped his teeth.

“’P-preciate it, Doc.” he sniffed, flushed with the threat of tears.

Ludwig gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze before he released him, the tension melting out of the room. “Of course, let’s get back to it, shall we?”

The engineer nodded, turning from him again to regain composure. He pried the goggles up from his eyes just enough to rub the haze from them before returning them to position.

Hours bled into a blur, the self-assurance of being able to power through it to the end was starting to crumble. Dell could hardly see straight, neither man had slept since their initial discovery. He’d been the first to give out, going from using the lab bench to prop himself up to sinking entirely onto the cold, concrete floor in a heap. He peeled back his goggles, feeling the grooves across his nose and cheeks from being stuck to his face for so long – no doubt angry red marks by now, he imagined.

The stink of sour bread was getting to him, suffocating, he wanted nothing more than to lay down and let his senses slip away into unconsciousness.

He vacantly stared up at the doctor, who he wasn’t sure was still engaged in their research or just playing with chunks of bread.

Without thinking, he watched the man bring the piece he was holding to his mouth and bit down. He spluttered and spat it back out at once.

“What was the point o’ that?” the engineer snickered.

Ludwig mumbled incoherently, before shrugging, too bleary to come up with a good excuse.

“Surprised you can even tolerate the stuff at this rate, it reeks in here.”

“Ja, well…” the doctor interrupted himself with a groan as he joined the engineer on the floor, joints protesting his descent. “I have smelt a lot worse – try working with corpses and animals for hours on end. Or animal corpses, for that matter.”

Dell shuddered. “No thanks, partner.”

At least Ludwig found his disgust amusing.

It was strange being able to see the other’s face unobscured, the medic had gotten used to thinking of Dell as something vaguely insectoid with those large dark lenses. There were in fact, some pretty impressive red indents on his skin where the googles had been and a tan line to match.

“I jus… need a moment…” he huffed, letting his lids fall closed.

Doctor Ludwig murmured a faint agreement, tucking his own glasses into the pocket of his coat and slumping back against the bench on his side of the laboratory.

“...Doc?”

“Mm?”

“Y’ain’t… scared of disappearin’? Being forgotten?”

“Terrified. But it’s out of my hands.” his lips stayed parted as he chewed it over, consciousness swaying. “I can’t control what I will be remembered for. I can hope that my work will mean something in the face of humanity… that it will not simply be discarded as madness, but I cannot know. At least I can say I never limited myself, that I always… always sought for answers.”

"'S like y' said... if they can't see what it's worth then maybe humanity don't deserve it."

The doctor only hummed in response.

There was something painfully human in his sprawled out form that Dell had never quite seen before, peering out between heavy eyelids. He traced Doctor Ludwig’s sunken cheekbones in his mind, the dark lashes of closed eyes, brow relaxed – neither forming the serious scowl he was used to nor contorted in manic glee, a view clear of the usual thin frames that adorned his nose. He was used to having to peer up at him, with his line of sight only reaching the doctor’s chest.

He wanted to take that image to the ends of the earth, for what time he had left and what consciousness his exhausted mind would allow him.

Glad that the light in the lab was already dim, the engineer shifted to lie down, hissing when his helmet smacked the concrete – he’d forgotten he’d still been wearing it. He fumbled to get it off, not noticing the doctor too shifting to slide out of his coat.

“Here, support your head with this.”

“Huh? Oh, thank ya kindly.” Dell absently took the folded fabric while propped up on his elbows, shimmying to position himself just right.

He also took the opportunity to unfasten his prosthetic to set aside, along with his belt.

“Hey Doc… lemme return the favour.”

Medic squinted.

“I got a pillow y’ can use.” the engineer patted his belly with his remaining hand. “C’mere.”

He didn’t need any further prompting, the taller crawled over and flopped back against him. “Oof, my back is going to hate me for this.” he grumbled. “If you wake first, wake me up too.”

Comfortable wasn’t the right word. Nothing about how the cold floor seeped through the back of his clothes and the skin of his arms was particularly comfortable, even the way the medic rested his weight on his stomach was a little stifling, but he wouldn’t have dared to move.

He could smell the doctor’s scent in the coat tucked under his head, feel the gentle rhythm of his breath, hear the way it stirred in his chest.

“Let’s just stay like this, until the end. Hold me until it’s all over.” Dell wanted to plead.

“Copy that.”

#tf2 #dbarts

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