americaarse

[americaarse]

lazy commission for a friend

or the subtle not-so-subtle jj sarah ghostface au bc we need more hot killer siblings

[americaarse]

'WHITE CHICKS' (2004)

[americaarse]

Battered and broken

Frank Castle x fem!reader

a/n: This is out of left field but I found this and had forgotten I had written it after a Punisher rewatch in Nov 2023. So I’m putting it out in the world because why not.

Warnings: actually no smut (I know, right?!), hurt/comfort, description of injuries.

Summary: You’re an ex-Navy corpsman (yes, they call women that too in case you weren’t sure) and Frank comes to you for help and some comfort. Takes place after season 2 finale. 3.3k words

The knock on your door is faint, you could have missed it if you weren’t so attuned to it. You close your book and place it on the coffee table as you stand up from the couch. You unconsciously tuck a stand of hair behind your ear as you reach the door. You take a deep breath before looking through the peephole.

No one looking back at you. Only the top of a man’s head, a ball cap, his face toward the floor of the hall. You can tell by the slump of his shoulders he is exhausted. You slide the chain back.

“Come in,” you say as you open the door. Frank steps in sideways, glancing up at you. You let out a gruff sigh. This particular beating looks worse than any you’ve seen yet.

“Hey,” he grunts at you. He tosses his cap onto the kitchen table and pulls a chair out. The feet scrape on the floor. He nearly collapses into it. His body looks so heavy, like gravity has gotten stronger, pulls harder on him than anyone. He runs his hand over his hair and leans forward, nearly puts his face in his hands but thinks better of it when his busted cheek brushes against his palm. He rests his elbows on his thighs and lets his head hang. You quietly close the door and slide the chain back into place.

Your bare feet are quiet on the tile floor but are the only sound in the silent apartment. He doesn’t look up as you approach him. You stand at his side and sigh lightly. You touch the back of his head, gingerly, run your fingertips down his neck. So far, the back of his neck is the only part of Frank not covered in blood. There’s some there too though. You make another pass, equally gentle, but with your entire hand from the top of his head to his neck and let your palm rest against him.

You’re standing close enough to him that he leans slightly against you, shoulder to thigh. You wish you could take the weight off his shoulders but you’ll happily accept any that he’s willing to offer, even if it is only to prop him up. It lasts only for a beat. He can’t share the load. It’s not pride or ego. It’s a mix of fear and compassion. When he straightens up you slide down to squat next to him. You keep your hand on him the whole time, some small comfort for both of you.

“Hi there,” you nearly whisper. You dip your head as you speak, finding his face, assessing the damage. “Hey.” You reach up and gently put a fingertip under his chin. He lifts his head, barely, and meets your eyes.

“Hey,” he replies. He is beyond exhausted and, this time, beyond beaten. You suck in air between your teeth and drop your hand from his chin to his knee. But you smile up at him sweetly, a closed-lip smile that spreads up to your eyes. He almost smiles back at you but winces.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” you tell him as you stand up. You hear him let out a deep breath. You straighten your pj shorts as you pad through the apartment gathering supplies. Occasionally you glance over your shoulder to make sure Frank is still upright. You run through the list in your head and as you circle back through the kitchen you snag a beer from the fridge.

You lean over the table and let some of the items fall from your arms as you use a foot to slide a chair out. You sit down while pulling your chair closer to Frank, face to face if he sits up straight. He hasn’t yet. So you line up your supplies and then crack open the beer.

“Here. Drink this.” You hold the open beer bottle in front of him. He finally looks up and slowly lifts his head. It looks like it takes all of his remaining strength to rase his arm to take the beer from your hand. He takes a swig of it and sets it and his arm on the table. He leans back just a little in the chair.

You turn back to the table and your supplies, grab a washcloth and the bottle of isopropyl alcohol. You want him to lean back if it’s comfortable so you stand and step between his legs. He takes another drink of beer and rests his arm on the table again. Then he looks up at you. You have the cloth in one hand, alcohol in the other, and a tightness in your chest from those deep, dark, haunted eyes. That particular expression always makes you ache to comfort him, relieve even the smallest amount of his agony.

“I don’t have to warn you, you already know how this hurts. I’m guessing this is the least pain you’ve felt today.” You smile down at him and push some of his hair back from his forehead with the back of your hand.

Frank’s eyes soften slightly as he looks up at you. You feel his left hand move from his leg to yours as he slips his fingers behind your knee, up the bare skin of the back of your thigh. He’s not going any further, only wants the contact with you, but your skin still breaks out into gooseflesh. His touch is gentle for such large, rough hands. You let out the breath you had been holding and dab the cloth against the mouth of the alcohol bottle. You start at his forehead and move your way slowly down his busted and bruised face until there’s no more white on the cloth.

He only winces a few times and never much more than a reflex and never opens his eyes. Only once did he involuntarily pull away, but his cheek is split wide open, even he couldn’t override his body’s response to the alcohol in the open wound. You hold the cloth away for a beat as his fingers reflexively grip your leg. Then you go back to your job. It hurts him but it has to be done.

“Thank you,” Frank mumbles as you step back to sit down again, his fingers trailing off your skin as you move out of their reach. You toss the cloth on the far side of the table and start to set up the first aid kit and a small bowl you fill with alcohol. You close the bottle and look at him while you unpack suture supplies, bandages, ointment.

“Did you finish it? Is Amy going to be safe?”

He nods. Just barely. Even nodding hurts.

“Do you know where she’ll go?” You doubt it. He doesn’t want to be a liability to the people he cares about. Not knowing is safer, easier.

“Nah,” he answers as he looks down at his clothes, examines his hands, turning them over to look at the palms. He takes a drink of his beer. “Nah, I gave her some cash and got her on a bus.” Another swallow. “Maybe she’ll make something out of her life. Good kid.”

“Yeah, she was,” you nod. “Just misguided. Happens to most of us.” You stand up again and slide some things on the table closer to Frank, gently taking his beer from his hand and setting it out of your way. You step back into your position between his legs and before you can begin he reaches up and holds your hips in each hand. He leans forward and rests the top of his head against your stomach. You run you hands over his shoulders, one up the back of his neck. You make soothing sounds but you never shush him. The last thing you want is to make him feel like he can’t say whatever he needs to. These sounds aren’t words as much as gentle humming sounds mixed with it’s-okay-s. The tender moment doesn’t last long. Frank raises his head and slides his hands down your legs. He’s not holding your legs, only resting his hands against them as his forearms rest on his thighs.

You both know this normally sucks but it’s going to be so much worse without a topical anesthetic. Not that this is unusual for Frank, but this split cheek is awful. You decide to do it first. You choose the smallest needle and thread from your medical kit, the best choice you have for facial sutures but still bigger than you want.

You look down at him, soft smile on your face, and find him watching you. A touch of adoration mixed in with the exhaustion.

“This is going to hurt like a motherfucker babe,” you warn him unnecessarily.

“Don’t drag it out,” he tries to grin in that cheeky way but it hurts too much. “Get on with it.”

So you do. Occasionally, you feel his fingers tighten on your legs but Frank’s overall reaction to these stitches is a narrowing of his eyes, small twitches in his lower eyelids, and muscles flexing in his clenched jaw. The apartment is so quiet that you can hear, as well as feel, the sutures as you stitch him up. Frank’s breathing has a rasping quality that you don’t like in the least. Your corpsman’s instincts run through the list of possibilities and, combined with the shallowness of each breath, you’re pretty sure he has some rib damage and maybe a few hits to the throat.

As you tie off and cut the thread you assess the other wound on his chin. That could use a few stitches as well. You go about cleaning your needle, threading it, and try not to be distracted by Frank’s fingers grazing a path up and down the outsides of your legs. He’s started to relax. The endorphins from the pain of cleaning and stitching are washing over his brain. His breathing has begun to deepen and slow.

You look back at him and tilt his face up to yours by running your fingertip up the line of his jaw to his chin. You work silently, this area less damaged but requiring a bit more concentration. After finishing these sutures you drop the needle in the bowl of alcohol. You assess the smaller cuts and splits on his face and deem butterfly bandages appropriate. You unwrap a few and start closing the wounds on his forehead, his other cheek, above the bridge of his nose. When you finish you lean down and kiss the top of his head and cradle the back of his head in your hands.

Frank’s hands slide up the backs of your thighs, over your shorts, to the small of your back. His fingers slip under the hem of your tank top to rest against your bare skin. Unexpectedly, he leans his head forward and you straighten with a little surprise but you don’t stiffen. You let him rest his forehead between your breasts. Through the thin fabric of your tank, his breath is warm against your skin. You gently pet the back of his head and then rest your hands just above his shoulders. His shoulders are shaking a bit, trembling actually. You don’t think he is crying but he’s processing a lot of emotions after a day like this.

You both stay that way for a moment, not too long, and he sighs loudly. You move your hands from his shoulders. When he looks up at you, his eyes are red rimmed but a little less exhausted.

“Alright big man, come ‘ere.” You take a step back and gesture for him to stand up. You smile broadly at him, encouraging him that he can do it, that there is enough energy left in him. Frank groans as he stands but grins at you sheepishly once standing. He rolls his eyes at your mock clapping, praising his effort.

You step closer to him again and the smile falls from your face. You dread seeing how much worse shape his body is in if his face was that bad. It can’t be avoided.

“I’m fine,” he grunts as you move your hands to the hem of his shirt. “I’ll be fine.” But Frank looks away from you and clenches his jaw, chewing the inside of his lip. He doesn’t have much fight left in him.

You continue on your quest and gasp “ouch” when you see his bruised torso. It would be a miracle if he doesn’t have a cracked rib, but it’s probably more like two or even three. You pull his shirt up to his chest and he acquiesces, raising his arms up to help you. He jerks the shirt over his head and his arms out of the sleeves and flings the shirt on the floor. Even his arms are covered in dark purple bruises. You want to soothe him, run your fingers over his injuries, but you only allow your hands to hover above him without touching.

Frank’s face is a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and anger. And it infurates you that the anger isn’t at who did this to him but at himself for being a “burden” on you. You put a mental pin in that discussion, saving it for a better time. He won’t even look at you at the moment so there’s no need to try. Your compassion builds from your stomach and spreads a warmth across your chest as you realize he is actually embarrassed. Does he think that you see these injuries as anything other than his sacrifice? They certainly are not evidence of inaptitude or failure. Surely he doesn’t think that. That conversation will happen sooner rather than later but not tonight.

“Hey,” you prod gently. “Hey?” You wait and Frank eventually turns to look at you.

“Hi there, Mister,” you say as his eyes meet yours. “There he is.” You gently touch his face in the one spot not cut open. “Stay here with me, would ya?”

He tries to return your smile but can barely manage it. He looks down but presses his face into your open hand. He is so epically tired. You glance down at his chest again and know there is nothing you can do with your limited first aid supplies to help him. Maybe wrap his ribs after he cleans up.

“You wanna just do what I tell you for a bit? No argument?”

Frank nods against your hand then straightens up and clears his throat.

“Yeah, sure, whatcha got in mind, doll?” His lips twitch into a lopsided smirk and you would have hit him playfully if there were anywhere to hit him that wouldn’t hurt. You smile at him before squatting in front of him to unlace his boots. No easy feat given how long the blood-soaked laces have had to dry. When you have them loose enough you stand up so he can toe them off.

You casually slide a finger into one of his belt loops and give it a light tug. “Come on big boy.” You flash him a quick smile before leading him to the bathroom.

You can feel him watching you as you walk. You always can. He is hypervigilant about everything but he seems to study your movements, your muscles, any time you move. He’s seen you in less clothing but you like the way your skimpy pjs leave some things to his imagination. Your brain shuts off those thoughts the moment you enter the bathroom.

Frank stops in the doorway and leans against the jamb. You work on readying the shower, getting the right water temp, clean towels. You nod your head in the direction of his pants. “Those. Off.” He groans as he straightens up but you hear his belt, then zipper, as he complies.

The two of you haven’t done this exact dance before but so many variations on it that he know you have to do this for him. He can object, occasionally you let him fall into bed untended to as long as you get his bloody clothes off first. But just as he trusted his corpsman when he was deployed, he trusts you. Marines’ habit of following corpsman's’ instructions is beneficial, especially these days.

You turn toward Frank and quickly survey the damage to his legs. Not as bad as you expected but not great. The bruise on his shin is worrisome but the rest look reasonable, given the circumstances. Your eyes travel back up his battered body to his face as you walk the short distance to him.

“You gonna leave your shorts on while you shower?” you tease. You smile only slightly to indicate that you’re teasing because you aren’t sure if he wants this tonight. Not sure if he wants to be alone, vulnerable and alone, instead of vulnerable with you. You slip a finger under the elastic of his boxer briefs and wait. Wait for him to signal his decision.

Frank raises a hand and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He focuses intently on you ear, then your cheek, then your lips, and finally your eyes. His hand lingers near your neck and shoulder, fingertips barely touching you. His eyes flit back and forth between yours, reading your face, thinking, deciding. You wait. Always will.

“Nah, easier to shower without them.” He is nearly expressionless as he says this, a hit of a smile at the corners of his mouth. Before you can get started “helping” him remove his shorts, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours. Not quite a kiss, yet. He’s tired. You press forward into his mouth with yours and he kisses back. His lips are slow, tender, and cautious, and not because of the cut on his lower lip. He always starts off that way. As if he were unsure if he will break you, if he will break, or if you will finally rebuff him. You’ve never sure. You slowly, gently encourage him by running the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip while you kiss him back. That does the trick.

Frank snakes his hand from your neck to the back of your head and entwines his fingers in your hair while pulling your mouth harder against his. It’s passionate but not urgent. Nothing tonight is urgent. But this feels amazing, as if he hadn’t kissed you ages or would never get to kiss you again. You feel lightheaded when he pulls back. His hand stays behind your head, thumb rubbing small circles on your neck.

You remembered your objective and start to get him out of his shorts but he stops you and slides them down, steps out of them, and walks to the shower. He almost grabs your hand as he passes but lets his fingers graze your palm.

“I’m here, Frank. I’ll be in the other room,” you announce as you walk out of the bathroom, “but I’m here.”

You busy yourself with cleaning up, putting everything back, anything that doesn’t go into the bathroom. You want him to have some privacy, safe privacy to breathe. You take a drink from his open beer and pick up his shirt and boots. So much blood. You can sort that tomorrow. He’s still showering as you put the chairs back in place under the table. You plop down on the couch, sitting curled up on your feet, and rub your brow. You take a few deep breaths and then another sip of the beer. As you set it on the coffee table you hear the bathroom water turn off. You pick up your phone from the table, check for missed notifications, then silence it. Frank walks out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, as you are placing your phone back on the coffee table.

“Feel better?”

He grunts affirmatively and smiles. He walks over to you and takes a drink from the beer. Before you really know what is happening, Frank lays down on the couch, barely fitting because he lay with his head in your lap.

(May be continued…)

[americaarse]

Unmasking The Truth Part 4: Penny And Dime

Summary: After a "lovely" conversation with Castle, things quickly go south. Content: Some cursing, mentions of guns

It was almost time. You checked your watch, eight twenty-three. You adjusted your shirt collar, audibly swallowing as you thought about what could happen. Eventually, you started to walk nervously around the room, wincing at the sight of the broken windows and hole-riddled walls. Luckily, you had some duct tape lying around, so you were able to patch up the walls until you could get them fixed properly. You checked your watch again. Eight twenty-five.

The world was going slow as clouds in the sky. It paused as you paced around the room, checking your watch every few seconds.

God, eight-thirty didn't seem so far away driving to Harlem and back.

You wished you had just gone to see your friend Luke instead of going to meet Frank Castle… The Punisher. You were so nervous that you started mentally drafting up a list of things you'd rather be doing than this. Sure, all the entries were a tad dramatic for what was really happening at face value, but the fear that resided within the idea left you breathless. Snapping back to reality, you checked your watch again.

It was go time.

You got into your car, driving to the diner. Looking around, taking in the sights. It was a good way to sort of ground yourself after what happened not even three hours ago. You looked at all the neon signs and the dark alleyways that you were sure Matt was scrounging around in. You chuckled to yourself as you thought of what Foggy would do if he knew you were meeting Castle. Knowing how hesitant he was to even take the case? He would practically murder you if he knew.

Eventually, without realizing it, you got to the diner. Parking your car, you got out and leaned against the hood. You sighed, inspecting the diner windows. Everyone else in there was chilling and talking, sipping their drinks and whatnot. However, there was one person who caught your eye. A man in a ball cap sat in the middle aisle seat. The more you looked at him, you saw he had a few bruises on his face. More like a lot of bruises with a few cuts, but, oh well.

You sighed as you headed into the diner, unintentionally passing by the man. "Hey.", he said as he grabbed your wrist. You looked down with a quiet gasp, getting to see a little more of his face. Sighing, you said, "You're Frank?". He nodded as he motioned you to sit down. "Why am I here?", you asked with yet another sigh. "Cause you drove here. As for me? I came because Karen's concerned for you.", Frank said, adjusting his hat down onto his face slightly.

You scoffed as a waitress came up with a coffee pitcher. "Coffee?". "Yes, please.", Frank said, raising his cup. This stopped you from scoffing and genuinely surprised you. Usually, people who were given a life sentence for murder and torture don't usually thank diner waitresses.

"I can take care of myself, you know.", you said, adding some sugar to your coffee. "I don't need someone with your history defending me.". Frank dryly chuckled, expression not changing. "Maybe. But it looked like to me that you were three seconds away from looking like goddamn Swiss cheese.". You rolled your eyes. "Well, I survived, didn't I?".

"Yeah, because of me.", Frank said, taking a swig of his coffee. "I'm sure the bullet-riddled corpse alternative would have been a real hit at your next office reunion.". Your jaw was left on the floor at this. So he's polite to random waitresses, but not to people he saves? You chuckled to yourself realizing you were here questioning the ethics and morals of a tried-and-convicted, now escaped and presumed dead killer.

"Now, listen here.", Frank lowered his voice. Whether to drive his point home or not, you didn't know. "I've only seen people be targeted like that when they're either involved with the mafia or know something they shouldn't know, and usually those things go together.". You swallowed your fear before responding. "Yeah, well, I don't know what to tell you.". Frank shook his head. "You're into something deep. You, and Karen. You need to lay low.". You chuckled dryly, taking another drink of your coffee before responding "If you really know Karen, you know she's not going to do that.". Frank sighed, eyes darting from outside the diner back to you.

He watched as a few people left the diner.

"She's a survivor. If she's not going to, let her do what she needs to do. Just make sure she stays safe out there.", he said with a gruff tone, taking another swig of his coffee.

"Hey, you two lovebirds.", the waitress said. "We're closing.". Frank nodded, pulling out his wallet and dropping a few dollars on the table. "Thank you, ma'am.", he said with a smile. Getting up and adjusting his ball cap, he patted your shoulder and pointed outside. Understanding his message, you headed outside with him. You walked to your car, only for Frank to call out, "Hey!". You turned around with a raised eyebrow, crossing your arms to warm up due to the cold air surrounding you.

"Your place ain't completely shot up, is it?". You shook your head, walking back closer to him as it started to rain. "No, I- I can stay there. I could use some new drywall, but I can call a friend.".

Frank nodded, but just as he was about to walk away and leave you to do the same, you heard a bang. Suddenly, something bounced off a car nearby, nearly hitting you, making you squeak and duck. Frank tensed up, pulling out a gun from under his shirt, yelling to you one word.

"Drive!".

You nodded, a few tears falling from your eyes. Practically jumping into your car, you kicked it into fifth gear, speeding off. You sobbed as you sped away from the diner, hearing more gunshots from your car. Driving around never felt more safe then right now, especially considering what the hell was happening previously. But, even with the warzone going on in your thoughts, you realized you were speeding, and you slammed the breaks as you did. You needed to get yourself together.

Foggy. You needed Foggy.

Speeding off to his apartment, you thought about what the hell you would even say to him. He didn't know you knew Frank Castle, let alone you talked to him. Jesus, you thought to yourself. If your brain was racing with everything he might say, how could you think about what you could say? "Hey, Foggy, I had a coffee date with Frank Castle and almost got shot, can I crash at your place?".

Oh god, he was going to kill you.

Author notes: So sorry it took so long for this one to come out! I wanted to wait to actually experience Frank as a character to properly write him. Thank you to my mother for helping me write Frank properly! Because she's a huge Punisher fan. Thanks to @harleycao for motivating me to keep writing this! <3

[americaarse]

SEVEN - 008

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[12.2k] based on 1x09 and 1x10.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, extreme violence, mentions of child abuse, mentions/graphic depictions of rape/non-con, mild themes of ptsd, mentions of/allusions to death, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ and here is the season one finale of SEVEN :(, kinda sad but excited for season two. this is a long one so grab your takis 'cause this shit's gon be goooood (UDY reference, am i old?)

also this is not spell-checked :(

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AFTER FLEEING FROM THE AIRSTRIP,  the four of you found temporary shelter in a junk lot some miles away. You camped there, for what had to be, at least an hour before you watched an unmistakable plane fly overhead.

“And there goes the gold.” JJ said disappointedly, throwing his arms out to the side. “Shit!” He yelled, kicking an already busted up lawn chair.

“Fuck!” Pope hollered, throwing hat so far that it clattered loudly against something out of sight. “God damn it!” He continued raving, picking up an old baseball and swinging at every object within his line of vision. The three of you stood back in shock, never seeing such a display of emotion from the boy.

At least not one this aggressive. He continued breaking and smashing and shattering before deciding to ditch the bat in favor of lifting a large tin trash can, throwing across the concrete. 

“Pope!” Kiara called out, flinching. The boy just paced, hyperventilating before collapsing against a worn down bench. He had a look of distress on his face before bursting out into tears. 

“I was wondering when this was gonna happen.” JJ spoke lowly, walking towards his friend while Kie looked aimlessly around at the even bigger mess he’d made of the junkyard. The blonde held out a weed pen in the curly-haired boy’s direction, shrugging a single shoulder. “A little weed never hurt anyone.”

“JJ.” Kiara reprimanded. “You know he doesn’t smoke.” Pope looked to the two and then to you, eyes asking for advice. You simply shrugged as if to say why not, watching him snatch the pen from JJ’s fingers. 

“Well, maybe not until today.” The blonde taunted as Pope fiddled with the device, eyeing it for a few moments.

“What is that gonna help?” Kie criticized as he contemplated.

“...I lost my scholarship. Walked out in the middle of the interview. It’s gone, it’s not gonna happen.” He told you three sadly. 

“You did that for us?” Kiara asked him, face falling.

“No. Not for us.” He corrected, standing from his seat as you replaced his absence next to JJ, leaning your head on his shoulder. “For nothing.”

“Pope-”

“Just let it go, Kie.” You sighed, the girl turning to you. You hadn’t spoken much since you heard the gunshot in the woods, concerned for John B’s well-being and heartbroken about the gold, and everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. “He’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The air around you all went silent, Pope taking a hit of the pen as Kiara silently judged him. You and JJ sat in silence, a comfort shared between the two of you, taking the feeling where you could get it. That was until you heard slow footsteps behind you, heads shooting up to find John B coming around the corner.

You launched yourself out of your seat, running into the boy and dragging him into a hug he didn’t return, the other three following suit. Releasing him, you all took immediate notice of the crimson color decorating his shirt and hands. 

It looked half-dried, taking on a color resembling rust or dried tomatoes. It completely coated his hands, even the webs between his fingers.

“...Whose blood is that?” 

“JOHN B, WHAT ARE WE DOING AT THE POLICE STATION?” JJ asked as Kiara pulled up next to the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station. It was night time now and the sun had set hours ago. John B had wasted sunlight explaining to the four of you what went down on the tarmac. According to your friend, Rafe had shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin while she was in the middle of arresting Ward Cameron.

“Somebody has to tell them what happened.” The boy in question replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, right before Pope broke out into a coughing fit, perfectly rolled joint still clutched between his fingers. He hadn't let up on the weed since taking his first hit at the junkyard.

“Easy there, Chief.” JJ advised from his place next to you in the trunk of the car, John B and Pope in the back seat while Kiara drove. Then the blonde’s attention was on John B. “I’m just gonna be real with you, right now. You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose. You should never trust cops, no matter the circumstance.”

“He’s right, John B.” You pitched in. “You gave the compass to Peterkin and somehow it ended up with Ward. Who knows how many dirty cops are littering that station right now.”

“I agree.” Pope added in. “Fuck the police.”

“You’re going to the dark side now?” Kiara judged.

“When’s the last time the police helped us?” Pope argued back, leaning forward.

“Peterkin looked out for me, alright?” John B finally spoke out after moments of silence, looking at all of you with pleading eyes. “Tried to, at least. They need to know.” He declared before giving you all one last parting look and leaving the car to go into the station and tell the precinct that the Sheriff was dead. And that Rafe Cameron had killed her.

“...How did we get here, you guys?” Kiara spoke, looking at no one in particular. She sounded sad and far away, hands clutching the steering wheel.

“Greed?” You offered, shrugging your shoulders. “A part of me regrets not leaving this alone the moment we found out the boat was Scooter’s and that he was dead. But once we found that compass, there was no stopping.”

“Well, I don’t regret any of it.” JJ piped up, leaning over the backseat, over Pope’s shoulder. “What’s this pity party y’all are throwin’? We found the fucking gold.” He laughed out triumphantly. “And yeah we got screwed but we’re gonna get it back.”

The three of you pondered on his words, more like the two of you considering Pope was getting higher than the Empire State Building. Maybe JJ had a point. But you couldn’t think too much longer when John B came barrelling back into the vehicle. 

“Kie! Start the car!” 

“What did you do?” She asked, fear written all across her face as she switched gears, two officers coming up on the vehicle and attempting to open John B’s door. 

“Kie, just drive!” He commanded, the car speeding down the dirt path. 

One of the deputy’s refused to admit defeat, running along the car with her hand still on the handle. “Pull over!” She shouted through the window, banging her free palm against the glass.

“Open it!” Pope ordered from John B’s side. JB looked side to side in confusion before doing as the intoxicated boy said, opening the door and effectively sending the deputy tumbling on her feet and leaving her behind as Kiara kept driving. 

“What the hell was that?” You asked incredulously, looking out the back windshield as the two officers disappeared out of sight. But the boy didn’t answer, just looked straight ahead with his lips slightly parted. You reached over the seat, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, John B, what the hell was that?”

“...They think I killed Peterkin.” 

IT WAS MORNING NOW AND THE FIVE OF YOU HAD BEEN RUNNING FROM THE COPS ALL NIGHT. There was nowhere for John B to go. The Chateau was no doubt flooded with cops, JJ’s house was just as unsafe, Pope’s parents were mad enough at their son as is, Kiara’s parents would shun him at the door, and you weren’t even sure if your home was your home anymore. 

You all were camped out in Kiara’s car on the side of a windy road, camouflaged by the plethora of trees. The Kildare County AM Radio Show playing as you all sat in exhausted silence, seats reclined in uncomfortable positions as you all attempted to get some rest and hide from passing cars. 

“...And good news for the residents of the Outer Banks. Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to ninety-percent of the city, should be functional within the next twenty-four hours.”

The host exclaimed as you and JJ nearly jumped when police sirens were heard over the station, two police cars zooming down the road and right past the car you were all hiding in. You let out a breath of relief, letting yourself fall back into the seat. 

“..And still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-” The rest of whatever the radio host was going to say was cut off when Kiara turned the radio off entirely. 

“...So, Yucatan it is?” JJ started the conversation.

“Enough with the Mexico bullshit.” John B cringed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just being realistic here. Who are the cops going to believe? Lord Cameron or us?” He spat out, irritated.

“Sarah will bail me out, okay? She’ll come through.” 

“She did witness everything…” Kiara supported the brunette’s ideology. You just scoffed, yawning and rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes.

“If you two believe that Sarah will turn her dad or brother over to the cops, you are beyond delusional.” You threw out.

“Thank you.” Pope agreed. 

“We gotta get you off the island.” JJ spoke his mind, sparking up a blunt and shifting to lean on his shoulder.

“The ferry’s his only option.” Pope informed. 

“That's do-able, right? Dude, you gotta dip before the entire island’s on lockdown.” JJ told his best friend as you all ducked once more as three more police cars sped by, only rising slowly once the sound of sirens was gone.

“Look, Sarah’s not a Pogue, JB.” You offered the boy a reality check. “She’s not one of us and you can’t rely on her to save you. You gotta think about you.”

“SO, BAD NEWS.” Pope threw his hands out, looking around nervously while also trying to act normal as he walked back to the car. You all were parked at The Ferry dock with John B reclined fully inside the car to remain out of sight. “The Ferry’s closed and there’s this…” He spoke through the rolled down window from outside of the car, passing a paper inside for the rest of us to see.

“...Shit.” Kiara cursed, passing the paper back for the remaining three of you to see. JJ took it as you leaned over his shoulder, you being the only one in the trunk now since Pope took over driving and JJ moved to sit next to JB. 

“Twenty-five thousand?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as you read the ‘WANTED’ poster for John B. His picture and all listed on the sheet. JJ was quick to turn around a throw a palm over your mouth, instructing you to ‘shh’ before slowly removing the hand. “Sorry. But twenty-five thousand dollars on your head?” You directed at JB.

“Congrats, Bree. You’re famous.” JJ said sarcastically, annoyance seeping through his voice.

“So, the whole island’s looking for John B.” Pope sighed, drawing his lips into a thin line, getting into the driver's seat.

“Guys, we can get to the HMS Pogue. It’s small, no running lights-” Kiara started before JB cut her off, little emotion left in him.

“It’s at The Chateau, Kie.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling of the vehicle. “The cops are probably staked out at every corner.” 

“JJ.” Pope perked up, almost giving himself whiplash as he turned around to face the blonde in the backseat. “Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, The Phantom. The one he used to race.”

“Maybe.” The boy in question replied simply, face void of any emotion. 

“Okay, then. We could get it up to the coast, no problem.” Pope said, turning back around and putting his hands on the wheel.

“It won’t be easy, Pope.” JJ advised. “I don’t even know where the keys are.”

“Well, find them.” The curly-haired boy spat out, jittering in the driver’s seat. “Why is nobody moving forward?” He motioned for the line of cars in front of him.

“Should he be driving?...” You threw the question out, noting his behavior and the amount of weed he’d consumed in the last couple of hours. “Pope, buddy, I don’t think you should be driving.”

“Kie.” John B craned his neck to look at the girl in the passenger seat. “Your car is on the poster.” Nobody could say anything before Pope started rapidly honking the horn.

“Hellooo? Can we move it?” He urged. “Come on!”

“Pope!” Kie tried to grab the male’s attention. “Don’t honk the horn! Jesus…”

“Mom, look! It’s that guy! Right there!” Some blonde little shit standing in the grass pointed at the car you were all hiding in, his squeaky voice traveling through the rolled down window. “We get twenty-five thousand if we find him!”

The kids excitement started to draw other civilians attention, the car soon surrounded by curious eyes. One man had the nerve to bang against one of the back windows, smiling as he pointed at John B’s flattened figure inside of the car. You banged back on the glass, startling the middle aged man before yelling at him to ‘back the fuck up’.

“We gotta go. Pope, turn the car on.” Kiara demanded. “Pope, turn the fucking car on!”

“I’m trying!” He protested, fighting with the ignition key. When he finally succeeded, the car flew forward, hitting the back bumper of the car in front of you all. You all shouted at the boy to back up but he just continued driving forward, pushing the car in front of him before swerving to the side and into the grass.

He managed to drive away from the scene and onto the main road, not getting far before he was swerving back into the grass, sending a mailbox flying into the air in pieces. The four of you gripped onto the seats and safety handles for dear life as Pope cheered in the driver’s seat.

“I am livin’ my best life right now!” He hollered with the biggest smile of his face, right before he hit another mailbox, the impact sending you all forward, your forehead coming into hard contact with the back of JJ’s head.

“Ow! Dammit! Pope, pull over!” You screeched from the back seat. He did as you said, bringing the SUV to a complete stop, making the car jerk. Kiara turned in the passenger seat to look at John B.

“You, get out.”

“What?” He looked bewildered at the suggestion.

“We’ll draw the cops while you run. Get out!” She commanded, John B turning to JJ as the blonde spoke quickly.

“I’ll get the boat and we’ll meet in the dump tomorrow, okay? Three o’clock.” 

“Yeah.” John B confirmed, nodding as he barrel-rolled out of the car, running through the field and into the woods.

“Three tomorrow at the dump!” 

“YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” JJ piped up, getting out of the car with Pope as you and Kiara followed suit, the SUV that was parked on the side of Tannyhill, just out of sight. Kie had taken the wheel back after it was clear Pope was far too impaired to drive. It was nighttime once again, the chaos causing the hours to tick by.

“She’s the only one who can clear John B.” The brown-haired girl told him simply, getting ready to climb the fence with you next to her, flashlight in her hand with yours clutched between your teeth. “I have a plan.” She muttered, you all landing in the grass and marching through the yard.

“I can do a plan. Plan, plan. Can totally do a plan.” Pope spoke nonsense, the smile never leaving his face as Kiara turned around to face him, irritated and annoyed.

“Can you handle a plan, right now?’ She criticized.

“Of course.” Pope brushed off, dismissing the girl's concerns. “I’m Mister Plan-o-matic.” He assured before breaking out into a rap, a terribly bad, off-beat, and loud rap. You couldn’t contain your laughter, almost snorting at the random action before Kie shot you a look, wiping the smile off of your face as you tried to hold in the laughter.

“I’m sorry. It’s not funny.” You lied, turning to Pope. “Pope.” You whisper-shouted in his direction. “Let’s…save the freestyle for later.” You suggested, a small smile on your face as he quieted down.

“This is a quiet plan.” She talked to him like a baby while you and JJ stood off to the side, watching as she put her pointer finger against his lips. “Okay?” She asked, receiving an absentminded nod from the male in response to which she retracted her finger slowly.

“...I love you, Kie.” Pope said when the girl moved her hand, both you and JJ’s jaw dropping simultaneously.

“What?” Was all the girl offered in response, sighing. Ouch.

“I’m in love with you.” The intoxicated boy clarified, JJ scratching his head and turning away while you stared at the flowers and trees like they were the most interesting things in the world.

“You’re… wasted.” She dismissed his confession, disgust written all over her face as she turned around with the intention to keep walking before Pope pulled her back gently by the wrist.

“I know I’m wasted and that’s why I’m saying this now.” He tried again. “I really feel like this. I love you. I’ve been meaning to tell you-”

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” She cut him off angrily.  Pope look stunned, hurt.

“...I’m trying to tell you how I feel-”

“And that’s very sweet, but it’s not gonna happen.” She stated softly but firmly. In his incapacitated state, he took the rejection lightly, a small smile edging it’s way on his face as he scoffed.

“Okay, well, why not?” He asked. “Is it the no pogue-on-pogue macking rule? Because it doesn’t make sense and no one follows it–”

“Look, I want something different.” She blurted, throwing her shoulders up. “I wanna go to Anarctica, I want to ride camels-”

“And I want to do those things with you-”

“No, Pope, it’s not gonna work!” She told the boy, louder than intended as she looked around before looking at him. “It’s not gonna happen...” She said, finality in her voice as Pope’s face fully fell this time, the rejection settling in. Even from your place, several feet away, you could see the tears welling in the boy’s eyes.

“...We should probably get on with the plan now.” You broke up the interaction, figuring someone should step in and lead the group back on the right track. They both agreed, being the first two to walk off, leaving you and JJ stranded in silence.

“I had no idea he felt that way about her.” You said shocked, blinking rapidly. “I mean, I had a hunch but, man.”

“Girls never know when guys like them.” The blonde said from beside you, your face twisting. “Poor Pope.”

“That is so not true.” You disputed as you both started walking after the other two. “Guys are the most oblivious creatures ever.” You told him,

“You're literally a walking demonstration.” JJ threw out humorously, an immediate look of regret on his face.

“What does that mean?” You asked, looking at the boy curiously.

“Nothing. Forget it.” He waved you off, you both bickering quietly as you walked further into the yard.

Catching up to Kiara and Pope, the girl in question explained that JJ and Pope would create a distraction down in the yard so you and her could sneak up to Sarah’s window. 

So, you were walking around the house you hadn’t visited in months while JJ and Pope were left behind, hopefully concocting a good enough plan to distract whoever else might be in the house.

“Hey,” Kiara whispered, pausing in front of you. “Do you think I was too harsh back there? With Pope?” 

“Honestly?” You started, moving your mouth around before you spoke. “Kind of. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way about him and I get your frustration with everything going but rejection hurts. No matter which way you say it. And he’s high, so it probably hurt a little more.” was your honest truth for the girl.

She simply nodded, looking down before the two of you quietly climbed the balcony stairs up to Sarah’s window. You both crouched out of sight in front of the window, the curtains drawn open allowing you to see the blonde girl’s reflection in her mirror.

Her room looked just the same as it did all those months ago. You didn't expect much to change, it was just an odd observation, you guessed.

Kiara knocked on the glass lightly, just enough to gain Sarah’s attention, the girl approaching the window with a smile before trying to open it and failing. The window wouldn’t budge, even when Kiara tried to help from the opposite side.

The curly-haired girl simply sighed before deciding to pull the wanted poster from her pocket, holding it up for Sarah to read. “Were you in on it?” Kiara asked, their voices still able to travel through the glass, slightly muffled.

“Did you think I was?” Sarah asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. Kie contemplated, shrugging as if to say ‘I don’t know’ before ultimately settling on her answer.

“No.” Then Sarah’s pitiful eyes were turning to you, eyes you tried desperately to avoid. She called your name, drawing your attention.

“...I’m sorry.” Was the first thing she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I believe you. About Rafe. I didn’t think he could do something like that and I was just protecting my brother. But he…he’s worse than I thought. I wasn’t a good friend to you then. But I’ll be a better one now.” She smiled smally.

You didn’t realize there were tears in your own eyes until one traveled down each cheek. You quickly wiped the evidence away before attempting to shrug nonchalantly. “...Thanks, I guess.” You mumbled, looking up at the girl through your lashes, smiles breaking out on both of your faces as Kie looked between you both with a motherly pout.

The moment was ruined when Ward’s voice boomed from inside the house, calling out for Sarah. The girl inside jumped, whispering for the both of you to go. The two of you did as she said, fleeing the back yard as fast as you could, trying not to trip down the balcony steps. 

You both bolted through the backyard, making note of the smoke coming from the grill on the patio before hopping over the fence and heading straight for Kie’s car where Pope and JJ were already camped out and waiting. Jumping in, Kiara started the vehicle and sped off, hiding between the streets of Figure Eight. 

“Did you idiots set the grill on fire?” Kiara asked as she drove down the dark streets, you and her up front while JJ and Pope rode in the back.

“No,” Pope drug out. “It was a pillow that I set on fire on top of the grill. I think I singed my hairline…”

The girl couldn’t help but sigh, turning onto a fairly empty street. You just stared ahead out of the windshield, remaining silent. “What’s wrong?” Kiara questioned you, looking between the side of your face and the road.

“Nothing, it’s just…I didn’t expect her to apologize.” You muttered, looking at your fingers while you played with your nails. You never thought you'd feel anything but hate for Sarah after what happened. But after all, you were a teenage girl — maybe all you ever wanted was a real apology.

“I thought you guys made up on the boat…” Pope slurred sadly, disappointed that his plan hadn’t actually worked.

“Okay, now that we’re like part-time fugitives and our futures are on the line, I feel like we should throw everything out into the open here, full transparency. Kie already told us why she hated her guts.” JJ suggested from the backseat, behind Kie. You looked back at him as he spoke. “What happened between you two?”

You looked to Kiara for confirmation, confused on when she gave the guys the scoop on her ‘Sarah situation’. She just shrugged. “I told them a couple days after they left us on the boat. Figured it was over with so, why not.”

You let out a hum, taking a deep breath before turning back to JJ. “When I first moved to Figure Eight, I was going through a lot. It was right after my dad’s death, I was moving away from the only home I ever knew, and I didn’t fit in with the Kook kids. Kiara was my only friend on Figure Eight and she took me under her wing, even though I didn’t fully expect her to because she was in her own Kook bubble and hadn’t talked to us for weeks at that point.” You explained, leaning on the center console.

“Falling in with that crowd was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me. Late night house parties, drunk driving, just… stupid rich kid shit. But Sarah, Kie, and I were like a trio of our own. Sarah had us over at Tannyhill almost every weekend, that's why we weren’t hanging out with you guys as much…One night, when we’re staying at Sarah’s, I was having trouble sleeping because of my nightmares, I had been for weeks at that point. Months. So, while Kie and Sarah were asleep, I went downstairs to get some water, clear my mind. But I wasn’t the only one awake. I ran into Rafe in the kitchen…”

The car was quiet, the only sound being the tires against the road and the wind whipping by considering the windows were halfway rolled down. “He was surprisingly…caring. Asked why I was awake, if I was okay, and offered to talk. He let me vent and cry to him for hours, something I thought I’d never do in a million years. And I think I just got caught in the comfort of it all and I kissed him. I pulled away right after and apologized but he said it was fine…and then he kissed me again. I knew it wrong and I’m sure he did, too. Not only was he the brother of one of my best friends but I was fifteen and he had just graduated. But that didn’t stop him from leading me up to his room and locking the door.”

“...You slept with Rafe?” JJ asked, hurt. 

“For months.” You replied honestly and shamefully. “I never meant for it to go that far. I had no feelings for him and I made that clear. He was a coke head, a general asshole, and just not the kind of guy I would ever want a serious relationship with. We’d just sneak around and hook up. No strings attached, was what I told him. But I guess he still felt like he had some kind of… claim over me.” You explained. “The three of us were at some house party one night and Rafe showed up with Topper and Kelce. I was flirting with some guy and Rafe just got angry, stomped over to me and yanked me by the arm all the way out of the front door and into his truck.”

Your voice started to shake, no longer able to maintain eye contact with JJ. “He just started yelling, calling me all types of names and when I tried to get out of the car he grabbed me by the neck and basically flung me into the backseat. He rap-mmph...” You cringed at your own words, not able to say what you wanted. The idea of the word leaving your lips made your stomach turn. “...He took advantage of me that night, right in front of the house,even drove me home after like nothing happened, like I wasn’t shaking and crying in the passenger seat, watching the blood leak from between my thighs. That was the last time I had seen him, up until the golf course. I told Sarah the next day, that following morning. I felt like I should, I mean it was her brother but she was my friend on top of that. But she didn't believe me. She called me a liar, told me he would never go that far and that she knew I’d been sneaking around with him and that I was trying to turn the situation into something it wasn't. Next thing I know, Rafe is making me out to be the island slut and Sarah is right behind him, laughing at the rumors.”

“Why didn't you tell us?” Pope broke the silence, sounding like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“If his own sister didn't believe me, I didn't think any of you would either. I didn't want to keep reliving it by telling you guys. I just wanted to forget any of it ever happened.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” JJ shook his head angrily, looking out the window as he bit his lip, his right hand curled into a fist. “This is what I mean. Kooks get away with whatever the fuck they want-”

“JJ, it happened months ago-”

“So what?” He shot back, turning to you with tears in his waterline. “I don't care how long ago it was. You didn't deserve that. He raped you, he hurt you and he gets to walk around like nothing happened. How are you okay with that?”

“I’m not okay with it.” You told him firmly, voice watery and upset. “I will never be okay with it, JJ. But that’s just the way it is. I can't do anything to change it now. Believe me, I wish I could do more but I can’t. None of us can.” The car fell silent, JJ shaking his head and looking out of the window angrily. You pondered on what you said, wondering if you should've said anything at all until a pressing thought entered your mind. “Kie! Stop the car,” You commanded, the SUV screeching to a halt as she looked at you. “I need to make pit stop. And no, it can’t wait.”

“HERE. I HOPE IT’S COOL ENOUGH TO DRINK.” You handed the blonde mug of hot chocolate, the two of you sitting at a table in The Wreck, blankets draped over your shoulders with the sound of Kie and Pope’s snoring filling the silence. You’d drove around Figure Eight, police at every corner until the four of you decided to call it quits and camp out somewhere safe. 

Well, not before you snuck back into your house and retrieved Marley, the dog taking up space in the backseat between the two boys, never giving JJ a break as she practically curled up in his lap the whole ride to The Wreck.

Surprisingly, The Wreck was the safest place at the moment. The sky was dark, the stars still visible through the plethora of windows that littered the small restaurant.

“I think you need it more than me.” He said, sliding the drink he’d requested over to you. You shook your head, pushing the mug back in his direction.

“Don’t do that.” You said exhaustedly. “Don’t start treating me differently because you know what happened. That’s the worst thing you could do.”

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“You can look out for me by drinking that hot chocolate that I burned myself making.” You smiled tiredly, the blonde returning the gesture and taking the ceramic object between both hands, sipping slowly.

“Can I ask you somethin’ though?” He asked your permission, looking up at him through your lashes with tired eyes. You nodded, prompting him to continue. “I’m still lost on how you know Barry. I was gonna ask in the car but the conversation took a left…”

You sighed, hand coming up to palm the back of neck as you tugged the blanket closer to you, licking your lips. “Sometimes, when I’d ride around with Rafe, he would take me with him to buy coke. I don’t know why, he just would. I went into the trailer with him once, too hot to sit in the car. I guess Barry took one look at me and the bags under my eyes and wanted to reel himself in a new client. He offered me some pills. Something he’d made himself, a mix of Ambien and Xanax, said it’d help me sleep and so, I took it. Who knows if it was even safe…” You explained shamefully, shifting in your seat and looking back to make sure Kiara and Pope were still fast asleep.

“...I never had enough of my own money to keep buying it, so Rafe would buy it for me. That’s why Barry called me that stupid nickname, it’s what he would write down in his books. It got to a point where I felt like I needed the pills to even just take a nap when I wanted to or when I just wanted to feel good. It made me have less nightmares, feel less anxious throughout the day. But when I cut off Rafe, the drugs went with him. I walked around high for half of the summer and no one ever noticed.”

“...I can’t imagine that.”

“Neither can I, looking back on it. It’s not something I’m proud of but I’m better now.”

“You didn’t have to go through all of that alone. You could have come to us.” You just scoffed, leaning on the table as he traced the rim of his coffee mug.

“I didn’t even think you guys wanted to talk to me. Me and Kiara basically blew you guys for months for some Kooks who kicked us to the dirt.”

“And we took you back in when you came back. You’re a pogue. We’ll always be here, at least I will.” He chuckled, sipping more of his beverage.

“And I love you for that. Honestly.” The blonde’s blue eyes went wide at the beginning of your statement, as if he was about to spit out his drink until it calmed as you went on. You pondered on his initial reaction before deciding to let it go.

“...And I’m sorry. For not noticing. Someone should have. One of us should have, we’re your friends.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was my mistake, not yours.” You refuted his condolences, waving your hand dismissively. “Besides, our problems have gotten a lot bigger.”

“Who are you tellin’?” He chuckled under his breath, the two of your sharing a fit of sleepy laughter.

“...and J?” You perked up, laughing dying in your throat. He hummed in response. “If you could keep this between us… The Barry thing-”

“Don’t worry about it.” He interrupted you reassuringly, mimicking a zipper on his lips. “My lips are sealed. I promise you.” You simply nodded with a small smile on your lips as you curled up in the dining chair, cocooning yourself in the blanket. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach before you drifted off that you couldn’t quite place.

“AND THE MANHUNT FOR EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE CONTINUES after he allegedly shot and killed Sheriff Susan Peterkin on a private airstrip after a heated altercation. There have been multiple reported sightings of the boy in the Figure Eight area…” The news played from the small radio box as you all scattered around The Wreck, the sun casting an orange hue over the restaurant.

It was early the next morning and still no word from John B. You hoped he was okay and would still be able to follow through with the plan.  You’d woken up on a bench inside of the restaurant, laid down and tucked in with pillow under your head. You couldn’t quite remember if you’d done that yourself.

“Is that gonna be enough food for them?” Kiara asked, grabbing edible items from the cabinets inside The Wreck as you and JJ bagged them.

“I mean, for a couple weeks that’s all they need, so…” JJ replied, eyeing the items inside of the paper bag.

“...I think I actually hurt his feelings.” She spoke despondently, referring to Pope. You and JJ grabbed the two wooden crates full of snacks and ready-to-eat meals and followed the girl through the back of the restaurant.

“Maybe he was too high to remember what happened.” You threw out, watching your step as to not fall with the large bin obstructing your view.

“I hate to admit it but I miss the old Pope. At least I knew what to expect from him-” She was cut off when Mrs. Carrera stormed towards her daughter, you and JJ stacking the crates into the trunk of the SUV.

“Where have you been?” The older woman demanded to know, throwing her arms out for them to land on her hips.

“I’m..fine. I slept here.” Kiara replied, perplexed as to what her mother’s issue could’ve been.

“Well, we were up half the night scared to death, lookin’ for you.” She told her child before looking past her and at you. “And your mother has been looking for you for days. When’s the last time you been home?” You simply didn’t reply, not wanting to disrespect Mrs. Carrera with the anger that surged at the mention of your mother. “Were you even gonna tell us where you were?”

“I’m telling you right now.” Kiara said simply, tucking her waves behind her ear.

“What the hell are you three up to?” She looked between the trio of you as you and JJ stood on either side of Kiara after loading the groceries into the trunk.

“Sorry, Miss Anna, but we have to go.” You told the older woman sadly. "Also, could you feed my dog? She's inside..." You requested sheepishly.

“Sorry…” Kie muttered, walking forward as you and JJ got into the car.

“No, absolutely not.” Mrs. Carrera blocked Kie’s path. “Have you heard what’s going on? Have you seen the storm that coming? This is not safe, Kiara!” She told her daughter as if she was crazy. 

“Mom, I’m sorry, I have to go…” Kie’s voice wavered as she lowered herself into the driver’s seat next to you with JJ in the back.

“These cops are armed, Kiara. They will shoot you, I am not letting you do this!”

“Mom, John B needs me!” She shouted, pointing at herself and shutting the door. “I understand, I’ll be careful!” She continued through the glass. Her mom never stopped, begging for her daughter to get out of the car and go with the safer option. Kie just apologized over and over, switching gears and driving away.

THE SUV PULLED TO A STOP IN FRONT OF THE MAYBANK RESIDENCE. You turned around to face JJ from your place in the passenger seat.

“Home sweet home.” He proclaimed sadly, his eyes teary and face red. You couldn’t help but pout, watching as he pushed the car door open and got out. Seconds later, you followed suit — unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out. “What’re you doin’?” The blonde questioned you as you dusted yourself off.

You just shrugged and looked at him, jutting your bottom lip out. “I’m going with you.” He was quick to shake his head, his hands on both your shoulders as he pushed you back towards the car.

“No, no, no. No, you’re not.” He refused your assistance. “Get back in the car.”

You simply brushed his hands off of your shoulders, walking past him. “No. C’mon-” Suddenly, you were being pulled back by your wrist, facing the boy once more.

“I’m not lettin’ you go in there. It will only take a second, just get back in the car, please.” He was pleading with you but his eyes wouldn’t work this time.

“It only took him a second to do what he did to you.” You refuted, pulling your wrist out of his grasp gently. “So, I’m going with you. And we don’t have time to argue because we need to meet John B.” Was all you said before turning around and continuing to walk towards the front door of the house. 

You told him he’d never be alone with his father again and you meant it. The blonde reluctantly followed behind you, his heavy boots not making his appearance known for once as you both tip-toed into the house, the door creaking as you did.

The floor stuck to the soles of your shoes as you both crept into the house. It was a mess — flies buzzing around the dishes piled in the sink, shoes far too large to be JJ’s scattered across the floor, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingering in the air.

JJ immediately spotted his father, sprawled out on the couch and snoring loudly, a half-drunken bottle of whiskey behind him. His son walked over to him slowly, eyeing his father with caution.

“...Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom.” He spoke to his father’s sleeping figure as you stood feet away, watching the interaction happen. The older man didn’t wake up, his snoring fit just getting louder. “Dad?’ He tried again to no avail, eyebrows twisting as noticed the male’s unusually deep slumber. 

He looked around, blue eyes landing on an empty pill bottle on the coffee table.

“What is it?” You asked from your place a few feet away.

“...Ambien.” He said despondently, a undertone of anger seeping through. Neither of you said anything else about it, JJ putting the pill bottle back down and turning back to his father, spotting the keys dangling from the chain around his neck.

Grabbing a pencil and an exact-o knife, he knelt next to the middle-aged man, gulping harshly as he did so. You could see the fear bubbling within him, whether it was the tears in his eyes or the way his hands shook. Luke’s eyed edged open just as JJ was lowering the tools, the boy freezing in place.

“...I didn’t expect to see you.” Luke rasped, you immediately put one foot forward in case something were to happen. But he seemed calm. Tamed… “School out already?” He questioned, the first thing the man reached for in post-sleep daze being the open beer on the coffee table.

JJ’s face twisted in on itself, his fearful teary eyes filling with confusion. “What?”

“Did you ditch?” His father coughed, JJ’s blue eyes quickly fleeting in your direction for some kind of reassurance. Security. “You can tell me if you did.” The older man smiled drunkenly, laughing. JJ’s expression softened in the slightest and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as he replied.

“Yeah… yeah, I did. Hit the break, y’know.” He shrugged, feigning carelessness. Luke just laughed, struggling to stand from the couch in his disorientation.

“I hated school, too. My boy!” He cheered, slapping a wobbly hand on JJ’s shoulder in congratulations and in order to stabilize himself most likely. Your hand clutched the doorframe, biting the inside of your lip now knowing how quickly the older man’s switch could flip. “Look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes…But sometimes, I-I see your mother in you and it gets me a little tweaked, y’know?”

All JJ could do was stare down at his feet, biting his bottom lip in an attempt to will the tears brewing in his eyes to subside. “You’re a good boy.” Luke proclaimed, smiling at his son. You didn’t know if he was drunk or possibly having a moment of clarity. “And I love you, son.” He told JJ, pulling the blonde into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

JJ’s eyes met your own over his father’s shoulder — blue eyes surrounded by trails of red, tears making his pupils shine. What bothered you the most was the fact that he didn’t blink. For the entirety of the hug, which was long enough, JJ didn’t blink, not once. You could only wonder what was going through his head.

“...Love you, too, Dad.” He said, strained. But his expression remained all the same. But his voice made it seem as if the words he spoke brought him physical pain. Luke’s arms fell as the delirious man practically collapsed onto the sofa, losing consciousness once again. JJ’s face was flushed, tears trails shining as he yanked the dog tag with the keys from around his father’s neck and took swift steps in your direction, attempting to brush past you and leave the house until you gripped his upper arm.

“JJ-”

“This?” He cut you off harshly, whipping his head in your direction as he sniffled his feelings away. “This is why I wanted you to stay in the car.” He said, expression softening as he gently pulled himself out your grip and left the house.

“THERE SHE BE…” JJ gawked as he pushed open the garage door, revealing a large, pristine boat in the middle of the room. He was in a significantly brighter mood since you’d left his house, you refusing to let him wallow in his mild-anger towards you and riding in the backseat with him. You were surprised when he let you take hold of his balled fists, whispering your apology into his ear as he simply nodded and hummed. You didn’t miss the way Kiara kept glancing at you both through the rearview mirror.

“The Phantom.” He bragged, dragging his hands against the exterior as you and Kie stood by, letting him ramble and gloat. He needed something good right now. “A 1983 Formula 402 SR1 — the first boat to make the run to Bermuda in under sixteen hours.” 

“...It’s kind of a junker.” Kiara said unimpressed, staring blankly at the blonde.

“Really? She’s right there, Kie.” JJ reprimanded. “She can hear you. You would not be smokin’ weed right now if she never existed.”

“Let’s just hope she runs.” You butted in, leaning against the boat, not too far from JJ. 

“She’ll run alright.” JJ spoke in confidence, winding up a wire under the boat. Tires screeched against the concrete outside and Kiara threw her hands up in the air.

“That’s Pope. Finally!” She cheered, skipping towards the garage exit when Rafe’s frame rounded the corner, your back straightening and eyes going wide as you both locked eyes. 

“Hey there,” The boy breathed out, taking steps closer as Kiara retreated slowly, her hands balled into nervous fists. “What’s goin’ on? How you guys doin’?” Then a wolf-whistle was heard from behind you, the three of  you whipping your gazes around to find Barry entering the garage, his signature smirk adorning his features.

“Well, well…” He drawled, getting closer to JJ until he was close to pull a gun on him. A small gasp leaving your lips as JJ threw his hands up and Rafe made his way right next to Barry. “See, don’t think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I’m here because I want… my mothafuckin’ money!” He yelled before kneeing JJ in the abdomen, making the blonde curl in on himself.

“Barry!” You protested, immediately grabbing JJ and attempting to push the drug dealer away with your free hand. It was to no avail, however, when two strong arms wound around your waist and picked you up from behind. And unless Kiara had suddenly hit the gym, you knew exactly who it was and that knowledge sent you into a frenzy. “Get your fucking hands off me, Rafe!”

You kicked wildly as the boy drug you farther and farther away, watching helplessly as Barry beat on JJ and Kiara laid on the garage floor, holding her now visibly bruised knee.

“It’s not you we want, sunshine.” Rafe assured, setting you to your feet in a corner and gripping your shoulders. “Where’s John B?”

“I’m not telling you shit!” You spat nastily, pushing the man away from you with all the strength you could collect. 

“I really wish you didn’t do that…” He spoke menacingly.

“I don’t care.” You spoke, voice wavering as you struggled to get your eyes to leave his. But you felt as if you needed to watch his every move — the ways his fingers twitched, the way his eyes squinted, the vein that was popping on his forehead. “I know what you did.” You provoked. “You killed Peterkin.”

You don’t know exactly what you were hoping to achieve by saying it but you instantly regretting when you saw the way his face morphed — the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, the clench of his jaw. So hard it made his head shake in the slightest of motions before his hand went around your throat, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say those fucking words again.” Your hands grabbed his forearm as you gasped for air, the sounds of Barry kicking JJ and Kiara yelling out becoming muffled audio in your ears. “You got that?” He questioned, your own eyes drifting to the figure appearing behind him holding a weapon up. “You got that?!” The Cameron boy shook you before yelling out in pain as Pope hit him in the back of his knees with what seemed to be a metal pipe.

Rafe’s grip on your throat fell as he did, bent over in pain as Pope struck him again, the metal clanking against his bones. You fought for air to enter your lungs as you watched the boys fight, wondering where Pope learned such coordination as he dodged blow after blow from Rafe before delivering a plethora of his own.

Your attention was stolen when you saw JJ punishing Barry, wondering when he’d gotten the upper hand as a soft hand on your back made you flinch, turning to see Kie. “Are you okay?” She asked, eyes swimming with worry as you nodded. At some point, JJ had managed to incapacitate Barry, leaving the drug dealer on the ground as Rafe and Pope continued to fight.

Truthfully, the fight between them had ended once Pope delivered a nasty blow to Rafe’s temple, rendering the boy disoriented and open for Pope to continue his assault.

“Pope, that’s enough!” Kie yelled, standing back as Pope ignored her. He hit Rafe in his stomach, then his chest, then his face, sending his body spinning away from the boy. 

“Pope!” Kiara tried again.

Rafe was drooling blood, eyes spinning wildly as Pope grabbed a leather rope, wounding the object around the Cameron boy’s neck and pulling tight. Kiara pleaded with Pope to stop, said that he was going too far. But you stood there, not saying anything — eyes focused on the way Rafe choked on his own blood, the way his hands clawed as the machine underneath him, the way his own eyes drifted to yours and seemed to plead for help.

The same yours did all the those months ago.

And in that moment, you started to wonder if you had ever truly gotten over what happened. Or if you ever would. Because, in that moment, you wanted Pope to kill Rafe. And you wanted to watch him do it.

JJ managed to get a hold on Pope, the dark-skinned boy meeting Kie’s eyes and deciding to drop the rope, leaving a heaving Rafe beaten and bloodied on the garage floor. You started to come out of your own haze, eyeing Pope as he looked down at Rafe in terror of what he’d done. What he could’ve done. 

“We… we gotta go.” Kiara stuttered, eyes fleeting between the three of you stood starstruck as Rafe rolled around. She wasted little time in walking back to her SUV, her legs carrying her there as she wobbled from side to side. You and JJ stood back as you watched Pope’s anger rebuild, your friend leaning over the bloody boy and talking lowly. 

“Stay off The Cut.” He warned. “We don’t want you on this side of the island. Any of you.” He threw his words back at him, the same words Rafe had spat at you that day on the Golf Course. 

“DUDE, WHERE IS HE?” Kiara said, a tone of annoyance in her words. We’d arrived at the meeting spot right on time, but John B was no where to be seen. Pope had calmed down significantly since the incident at the garage but you hadn’t spoken since then. The moment playing over and over again in your head. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

“He’ll be here. Just give him a second.” Pope assured the girl, spots of Rafe’s blood staining his shirt. Police sirens wailed as a squad car pulled up behind you three, lights flashing as they came to a stop. You all tried to remain calm as you anticipated what the police could want now while also praying that John B didn’t pull up just as they’d arrived.

All of your worries went with the wind when John B hopped out of the driver’s side, cutting off the lights and sirens and pulling a backpack up on his shoulders with a semi-solemn look on his face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” JJ smiled from his place behind the wheel of The Phantom. 

“Shoupe let me take it for a spin.” John B smiled smally, flipping his curls out of his face as he edged closer to the four of you. Kiara was the first to give him a hug, embracing the boy with a giggle as JJ spoke. 

“It wasn’t easy, bro, but I got The Phantom for you.” He said triumphantly, holding up the keys between his fingers and tossing them to John B who caught them between his palms. “You ready to go?” The blonde asked, standing on top of the boat as you all watched John B’s face fall.

“...Where’s Sarah?” 

Kiara looked around, lips pursed in confusion before she spoke. “She’s not with you?” 

“No, no, we got separated in the swamp, she said she was gonna meet me here.” JB panicked, eyes fleeting to the trees surrounding the four of you as if she would appear from between them. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“John B, “ JJ started, kneeling to level his eyes with his best friend’s. “I know you feel bad for leaving but there’s no time, dude.” John B simply clenched his jaw and looked away. “You’ve got plenty of gas, plenty of food. Once you get around that point, it’s a straight shot across the sound to Dismal Swamp, alright? Once you get there, lay low. Hang out for a couple weeks and then go overland, cross the border at Brownsville, you got that? Brownsville.” JJ detailed, hand now firm on JB’s shoulder. 

“...Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” He spoke, staring out into the distance. Snapping back, he got onto the boat as JJ hopped off. It was only then you realized that you’d been standing in the same spot when the three of them — Kiara, Pope, and JJ, had their hands on the rails ready to push the boat into the water.

“Guys?” John B gathered all of your attention. Hands gripping his backpack straps for dear life as his eyes watered. “I’m sorry for basically…throwing us off a cliff with this whole treasure hunt thing.” His voice cracked, the sound snapping you out of your stupor as you felt your face fall. In all of your years of knowing John B, being his friend, being his sister, basically — you’d never heard him so remorseful. So defeated. Not until his dad died and only again at this very moment.

Something willed you to move, carrying your feet closer to your four friends until you were close enough to grab onto the boat rails and haul yourself up next to John B, stabilizing yourself and throwing yourself onto him in a hug that took him a moment to return. You could feel the tears building in your eyes as you buried your face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your dad.” Was the first thing you could think to say, the Routledge boy chuckling sadly in your ear.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about yours.” He returned, patting you on the back. You pulled back from the hug, hands still on his upper arms.

“I’ll finish this.” You nodded sadly, biting your bottom lip as small tears ran down your cheeks. “For the both of us.” John B didn’t say anything, just nodded sadly as well, a pitiful smile on his face. “Stay safe, Bree.” You said in farewell, squeezing his arm and turning away to get off the boat, joining the other three behind the rails.

“Forget all this sad shit, bro.” JJ sniffed, throwing his arms over all three of your shoulders and looking up at John b. “Everything that happened? We did it together, man. Pogue style.” John B laughed breathlessly, eyeing the four of your gratefully, almost like he was trying to commit your faces to memory.

“Pogue style.” He sighed back. 

“Now, get out of here! Please…” Kiara rushed. 

“Yeah, we’ll see you down in Mexico.” Pope pointed, a sad look swimming in his eyes despite his tone.

“Love you.” JJ left the words with his best friend, John B returning the gesture before pausing his walk to the cockpit of the boat. 

“...Tell Sarah I said goodbye, okay?” He choked out, the four of you nodding in agreement. He gave you all a grateful nod before settling into the boat, the rest of you putting in effort you push the boat into the water as the sound of the engine starting up echoed throughout the trees.

You could see the way John B purposefully avoided all of your eyes as he sped off, the boat getting smaller which each passing second as you said goodbye to your friend. 

Once he was out of sight, Pope was the first to turn around, coming face to face with Kiara as you and JJ walked out, their conversation still able to heard.

“You okay?” Kie inquired.

“...I’m sorry for…acting like a dumbass. I was just upset.” He stammered, you and JJ leaning on the car and being nosey. “And I was being petty and-”

“It’s okay.” Kie breathed out, shaking her head. 

“I just wanna be friends again.” Pope admitted, tone exhausted and shoulders dropping as thunder rumbled, the sky darkening within seconds. Kie stood there, looking at Pope’s outstretched hand. But she never shook it. Instead, edging forward and embracing the boy into a hug. Pulling back from the exchange, you didn’t expect her to go in again, this time for a kiss.

You and JJ exchanged looks, you were sure you looked confused but you couldn’t quite read JJ’s expression. Nothing was detectable from his dilated pupils or the way his eyes kept flickering between yours and your lips. And for a brief moment, you found yourself wanting to kiss him. But the thought made your stomach turn so wildly that you had no choice but to look away.

You were just vulnerable right now, you thought to yourself. 

Police sirens appeared out of nowhere, somewhere between three and four squad cars surround the four of you from all angles. Your hands went up as Shoupe and a dozen other officers and FBI agents exited the vehicles, half of them with guns drawn.

“We’re too late, goddamnit!” Shoupe reprimanded himself. “Bratcher, tell your men to stand down.” He directed at the brown skinned man with an FBI jacket on, the man in question motioning for the remaining agents to lower their weapons. “Let me talk to these kids.” Shoupe shook his head defeatedly, approaching you all with hands on his hips. “Alright, where the hell is he?” None of you responded. “Where the hell is he?!”

Still no response. You guessed his next tactic was to try and interrogate you all one by one. “JJ? I see you’re livin’ up to your name.” The blonde simply huffed and shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he stared straight ahead. “Pope, how ‘bout you?” He tried again. “This isn’t a fuckin’ game! You can do the right thing, right now. Where’d he go?” He yelled in the boys face. Typical, unmedicated Pope would’ve caved under this kind of pressure. But you think the marijuana had left imprint on him somehow as he stood, perfectly composed. 

The four of you stood, wordlessly and stoic. If Shoupe wanted to find John B, he’d have to do it his damn self.

THE SUN HAD GONE DOWN A WHILE AGO. Shoupe had detained the four of you, taking you all to the tent his team and the FBI had set up to overlook to water surrounding the Outer Banks — the lighthouse providing the best outlook, they were just waiting for Dominion Power to restore the power to the city. But you were praying John B had gotten away already, or that he would before that inevitably happened.

The environment gave you a headache — the flood lights, the police lights, the constant ringing of phones, the news vans outside trying desperately to get a word out of you and your friends. But you all remained silent — no word on John B, Sarah, or their whereabouts. 

You were all in direct earshot of the conference table. Hearing dozens of law enforcement agents talk about John B like some internationally wanted serial killer was disheartening. It made you angry.

“Do you think he made it by now?” You whispered in JJ’s direction, the blonde sat on your right with Kie and Pope to your left. Your leg was bouncing nervously against the ground, your fingers fiddling with each other in your lap. JJ’s blue eyes fleeted between your leg and hands before planting a warm hand on your thigh.

“I hope so. But something tells me he went to find her first.” He spoke honestly.

“Her?” You asked, your mind blanking from the stress.

“Sarah.” He replied simply, you nodding and drawing your lips into a thin line. The two of you sat like that for the next few passing moments — in oddly comfortable yet tense silence, JJ’s thumbs absentmindedly drawing circles into your thigh.

The FBI agent that Shoupe had called in had his entire crew on standby, his eyes laser focused on the waters in front of him. It was too dark to see anything beyond a few miles radius, but it still made your heart jump just thinking of the possibility that John B could be out there.

“We need eyes on the other side of The Point.” He snapped at the agent next to him, the man passing on the order. It didn’t seem like a routine command. It was urgent, like he saw something.

You felt a frantic hand shaking your thigh, directing your sights back to JJ whose eyes were focus on everything you all. “Shit. Look,” He jutted his head in the direction of an open end of the tent, bringing your attention to the lights turning back on throughout the island. Section by section until the island was lit up like a Christmas Tree. 

And it seemed like any prayers you’d made all those hours ago never made it up to the man in charge as the one light you hoped would never work again lit up the sea in front of you — The Lighthouse giving every person around you a clear view of the boat you’d all said farewell too just hours prior. 

“That’s them!” Some random deputy yelled out. “There they are!” He pointed, John B and Sarah’s figures, outlined like two deer in headlights as The Phantom waded aimlessly in the water, people crowding around the edge of the grass to see them like some kind of tourist attraction. 

The bald man at the head of this operation now, taking over Shoupe, called in his radio immediately. “Bogey spotted off the lighthouse, running lights out. I think it’s them…”

You didn’t think your heart could drop so far, the feeling cause you to almost dry heave as you gripped JJ’s hand, that was still on your thigh, for dear life. Siren wailed across the waves as two coast guard boats revved up, heading in the direction of The Phantom. Right on time for John B and Sarah to start the engine and speed away, out of the lighthouse’s direct spotlight. But they were still visible. 

Journalists, news anchors, and conspiracy theorists all rushed as if they could run after the boat, watching the chase take place. The crowd formed within your line of vision, making you no longer able to see what was going on. You silently thanked God for it, you weren’t sure if this was going to go as planned anymore.

And you knew this only ended in one of two ways — with John B in jail for life or with the four of you seated right now at another funeral.

You’d forgotten all about the oncoming storm, and all sorts of terrible thoughts filled your mind. Kiara got up from her seat as Pope called her name, the girl attempting to push people out of the way.

“I can’t see. What’s going on? Excuse me. Move out of the way!” She tried, the crowd just regenerating every time. Pope put a hand on her shoulder, turning the girl to face him with tears in her eyes. “We don’t know what’s happening, Pope! Don’t you care about what’s happening?!”

He just nodded, pulling the hysteric girl into him, letting her cry silently on his shoulder. You and JJ just sat in silence, hand in hand. You felt the tears running but didn’t care to wipe them. No version of this scenario played out in your favor. And though you’d never give up John B, what else was there left to do?

The thunder clapped harder and brighter, the ground beneath you trembling in the smallest of motions. The radio on the center of the conference table carrying a digital voice throughout the tent.

“Suspect is attempting to escape south. Our attempts to contact the vessel were unsuccessful. We’re gettin’ hammered here.” The man on the other end of the radio warned, probably hoping his supervisor would tell him to end it, to turn around and let them go. You could only imagine the disappointment when the lead FBI agent spoke back.

“...Hold your position, Captain. I think I’ve got one more card we can play.” 

A sigh came through the radio. “Roger that.”

You couldn’t help sigh yourself, the sound coming out strained and shaky as you closed your eyes and squeezed JJ’s hand tighter. You shook your head side to side, hoping the tears would go away. 

“Hey,” An all too familiar voice came from beside you, opening your eyes to find JJ staring back with tears just waiting to fall. “It’ll be okay-”

“Don’t.” You cut him off immediately, shaking your head and biting your lip. “We both know that’s a lie so please don’t lie to me right now. It’ll just make it a lot harder when…”

“When what?”

“They’re driving them right into the storm, JJ.” You reminded, angrily. But the anger wasn’t directed at him. “We all know what’s bound to happen.” But JJ’s eyes were now stuck where yours had been just seconds prior, following his gaze to find Ward Cameron at the head of the transmitter now, microphone in hand as the FBI agent stood next to him.

You watched as his thumb hit the button on the side. “...John B?” He called, hand shaking as he did so. God, this man was an actor. Putting on the performance of a lifetime. “I know you’re there, son. I know you can hear me.” The audacity, you thought. The audacity of Ward to refer to John B as son, knowing what he’s done. It made you sick. “If you love my daughter like I think you love my daughter, then you will turn that boat around and come back. You are going into a storm that you cannot survive.” He reprimanded.

The words made you wince, more tears falling from your eyes. A mix of premature grief and overwhelming infuriation. This man, this killer, had a team of law enforcement agents behind him while he framed a teenager for murder right before their eyes. 

“John B, I am begging you. Think of her and turn around.” Silence. The entire tent was filled with tense, consuming silence. One part of you wanted John B to remain silent. But the other wanted him to speak, just in case this was the last time you’d ever hear his voice.

“...Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” The static crackled, all four of your ears perking up.

“Yes.” Ward straightened in his seat, feigning relief. “Yes, son, I’m right here.”

“...You killed my father, you killed Owen Carter, and you framed me for a murder I didn’t commit!” John B’s voice bellowed clearly. “You took everything from me!” He cried, the sadness in his voice seeping through the radio. “But I’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine.” JB threatened, Ward going rigid in his place. His eyes were wide and anticipating, hand shaking as he seemed to be deep in thought and rage.

“...So, you listen to me, all right?” John B continued. “I’m comin’ for you. I’m coming. For you.” The entire space was filled with that gut-wrenching silence again. Ward had nothing left to say. To these strangers, he probably portrayed as a sullen father who’d just lost his daughter.

But to you, he was manipulative killer who got his kids involved in his world of crime. And sure, maybe he regretted it. But none of you were looking for regret. Besides, if Sarah can’t forgive her own father. If she can’t find some reasoning or justification for his actions, why should any of you?

One deputy broke the silence. “We’ve lost their radio signal, sir…”. Shoupe was quick to comfort his long-time friend, removing the radio from his hand and speaking into the intercom.

“Those are kids out there. Don’t stop lookin’.” He commanded his team. Now he cared about them being kids? Not when he was right there, driving them into the storm? He planted a steady hand on Ward’s shoulder, leaning down to his ear. “You stay right here. We’re gonna needa talk to you…”

ALMOST AN HOUR WENT BY before the team started to pack up. The table in front of you all was now gone and everyone had cleared out. Apparently, the four of you had to wait until your parents showed to take you home and claim custody, which was a whole ‘nother nightmare in itself. Kie’s eyes were still puffy from crying but now she just remained with a permanent frown on her face and Pope had been running a hand through his hair for the past half hour, trying not to lose it. 

You couldn’t really place how you and JJ felt. For once, you didn’t know. It felt you’d both just lost a brother. 

“We got Search ‘n Rescue on standby.”

“Any response?”

“They’re not calling it off yet…”

Officers chattered mindlessly, paying no mind to the catatonic teens staring out at nothing in front of them. Shoupe came into the tent wearing a weatherproof yellow jacket, two men trailing behind him in identical attire. The four of you stood swiftly, waiting for the Deputy- Sheriff, to speak.

“Did you find them?” Pope urged, almost pressing the man. Shoupe gritted his teeth, shaking his head side to side in response. 

“...No.”

“So, they got away?” Kiara spoke optimistically, her tone rising more than it had in the last couple hours. Shoupe swallowed, avoiding all of your eyes. And somehow, you just knew.

“We, uh…we lost them.” He said firmly, holding back his own emotions. How does a man go from wanting nothing more to find a “fugitive”, dead or alive, to seeming remorseful that said teen was now gone. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, voice small, strained, but still furious. “That’s all you have to say yourself? Is that you’re sorry?” You took a step closer, voice trembling dangerously as a hand latched around your wrist — JJ.

He directed his gaze to Shoupe. “What do you mean you lost them?”

Shoupe sighed, raking a hand down his face. “They took an open boat into a tropical depression.” He retorted professionally.”

“...So, they’re dead?” You asked tearfully, fists balled painfully at your sides. Shoupe eyed you pitifully.

“We…don’t know.”

You couldn’t help but snatch your wrist out of JJ’s hold, taking steps forward until you were just inches away from the Sheriff’s face. “Whatever happened to them,” You started, anger consuming your words. “It’s all. On. You.” You said, enunciating each word with a finger to his chest, no matter how watery your voice sounded. “Do you understand that?!” You voice rose as you shoved the officer.

The two men on his side grabbed you and pulled away just as Pope’s voice rang out. “He didn’t kill anyone and you know it!” One of the men turning his attention to Pope, holding him back. Then JJ was lashing out, Kie’s face morphing as she started crying again.

Two figures ran into the tent, Kie’s parents. She let out a sob as she ran and embraced her mother, the remaining three of you calming down. The officer let Pope go as his mother approached him, pulling him down as his dad trailed in right after her.

Pope broke down in his mother’s embraced as he grabbed at her back as if he was falling. Heyward set a fatherly hand on JJ’s shoulder, the blonde heaving as he looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” Pope cried as Heyward joined the hug. 

You heart didn’t drop when you saw your own mother standing at the entrance to the tent, raincoat on with the hood over her head as your eyes connected. You didn’t cry or smile or run to her. You just stared at her with every ounce of disappointment, anger, and hate you’d ever felt in your entire life. 

And when Heyward broke the group hug to let JJ into the family hug between Pope and his parents, your eyes drifted to Kiara and her parents, who were looking at you. You wondered if they knew, but then you assumed that that was a crazy idea. Her parents were more your father’s friends than they ever were hers. 

When your eyes went to find your mother, she was gone. And you accepted the invitation of comfort from the Carrera’s, letting tears flow freely and sobs leave your chest. 

Maybe JJ was right. 

Kooks versus Pogues? 

They always, always win.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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[americaarse]

Omg your BBF!JJ is amazing could I request a BBF!JJ blurb(or however u wish to write it)of him and reader being in a secret relationship and how he would be in that situation!

Thank you and you’re an amazing writer!!

| Restricted Relations |

JOHN B'S HALF-SISTER!READER x JOHN B'S BESTFRIEND!JJ

warnings: underage drinking and smoking, profanity, fluff, mentions of abuse. MDNI!!

Introduction: John B brought you to hang out with him and his friends after you practically begged him. You strut in with your f/c bikini and 2nd f/c cover-up, your brother looks embarrassed by your behavior but you just find it funny. John B introduces to his friends, Pulp, Sandrah, and Kekia, you think that's their names.., oh and you don't think you could ever forget JJ. JJ caught your eye the whole time, you could barely pay attention to your brother telling you his other friend's names. You quickly start a conversation with JJ, 'Hi, I'm Y/N but you can call me N/N, you're JJ right?' he gives you a warming smile, and you almost melt right there and then. 'Yup, that's me, do you uhm drink or smoke?' you've smoked a few times with your friends but not on the daily, but you do drink a lot at parties that you attend, so you take his offer 'Yeah, why not' you take the blunt from his hand and take a drag from it before handing back to him. You hope this is a good start....

Staying Secret: You begin going with your brother more often but he pays it no mind you make close friends with Pope, Sarah, and Kiara (you finally learned their names) but you have an even better relationship with JJ. You guys hit it off perfectly after meeting and you begin coming around more often but not too often so they don't get suspicious of your (drumroll plsss) relationship. You and JJ usually hang out when the group isn't together or when you guys take beer runs together. You usually hang out place is at your house when John B is out doing something, you guys makeout, cuddle, do his makeup, watch movies, cook, and just other stuff when you're with each other privately.

You think your relationship is perfect, with no problems from your side, and you don't think he has any problems either until you find him at your window bloody and tears running is his face 'JJ what happened to you?!' you pull him into your room and leading him into your bedroom bathroom, he looks at you as if he's contemplating telling you something, he takes a deep breath. 'my dad beats me..' he mumbles, refusing to make eye contact, the air in your lungs immediately leaves 'w-wha..?' eyes prickle as you look at him for conformation. 'my dad did this' he slowly turns his head towards you, small tears running down his face. You kiss his wounds after wiping them with alcohol pads, you take a warm towel and wipe his face.

'do you want to stay the night.?' you mumble while cuddling him, he hums in response and you slowly get up. you pull out some of his clothes and turn on the shower, 'jj c'mon so you can get in the shower..' you mumble, he groans as you pull him up and walk him into the bathroom ' get in the shower so we can sleep jj' you say sleepily ' can you get in with me?' you nod as you take off your clothes and get in. you wash him up then yourself and get out and cuddle for the rest of the night.

QnA:

Q: why is she john b's half sister and not blood?

A: because john b is white and as a black women I don't want to exclude other races by them being fully blood

Q: why is there no smut?

A: because i wasnt sure if miss/mister wanted smut but feel free to ask for a smut part 2

Q:can i request a hc,blurb, or series?

A: yes for now because soon i will be closing my submission box because of school reasons but I can take to week for ur ask to be published

pls send asks and ideas and if u want to be added to my tag list pls ask

published by nanaanatiion™! please do not copy, translate, or post on other website/apps, reblogging is fine as seen in my banner

banner credits: @cafekitsune pls support her

[americaarse]

BIGGER PERSON - BILLY RUSSO

Pairing: billy x castle!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 1,741

Summary: When Frank’s sister finds out that a) her brother’s alive and b) her boyfriend is supposed to kill him, the conversation quickly turns bad.

Your brother, Frank Castle.

Months had passed and his death still didn’t feel real. You had seen the headstone, found a church that was willing to give the infamous Punisher his last rites. Even though Frank didn’t really care for religion towards the end of his life, your parents would’ve wanted it done so you made sure of it. You sent them the blessed crucifix from the private ritual.

You were frozen in place as the news story played out on your TV. The job Billy was working for the senator, the one he claimed was to protect from the unknown bomber, was also intended to protect him from Frank. Frank, the alleged accomplice to the bomber, was being framed - yet again - as public enemy number one.

You paused the screen when the channel was playing video from a cop car that very clearly showed your brother’s face and pulled your phone to text Billy. But as your finger was finding the conversation, you realized he would very likely lie to you again. He lied about the job to begin with, so why would he owe you an honest answer now.

So instead, you paced your living room until he finally made it home.

When you heard the door open, your grip tightened on the remote and you felt the urge to throw it. Either at Billy or close to it, you didn’t care, but you refrained from either. He walked in and said his usual greeting, moving in to kiss your cheek but you shoved him off.

“Tell me you didn’t know.” You said tightly, hoping the anger in your stare was enough to burn him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, a slight nervous chuckle pairing with the words.

“The bombings. All of it is being blamed on Frank.” You continued.

“Frank?” His brows furrowed and you had the urge to shove him again.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“No, I- I’m not.” His hands went up in surrender. “I want to finish this discussion, really. But honestly, baby, I’m too damn tired. Can it wait till later?”

“So my brother is alive and I find out by chance from some news story and you want to talk about it later?” You said angrily, gesturing to the paused screen that still displayed the photo captured from a police car’s dash cam.

“Can we not do this, Y/N?” Billy sighed and dropped on the couch, covering his eyes.

“No, I think we should.” You snapped. “That is my brother, Billy. If there was even a rumor that he was still alive, you should’ve told me!”

“It was just a rumor.” He enunciated, still not looking at you. “I hadn’t heard from him so how was I supposed to know it was true?”

“You still should’ve told me!”

“I’m sorry!” He shouted, standing suddenly and. pausing you to take a small step back. “What am I supposed to do about it now? What- What- What do you want from me?”

“Jesus.” You sighed and put your hands up in surrender. “Nevermind. It’s just my brother, right? Who cares? Not like I had a right to know but hey.”

You stormed off to the bedroom and ignored Billy’s muttering as you left. You didn’t even need Billy to confess that he knew or that he was helping Frank hide. All you wanted was an honest apology, but he couldn’t even do that.

The days went on and you still said very little to Billy. You still did your usual routine, breakfast and coffee ready before he went to work. Dinner either on the way or finishing on the stove when he got home. But outside of that, or answering a direct question he asked, you were busy with a book or a new TV show. Anything really that meant you didn’t have to say anything to him.

It was right before his TV interview about the attack on Senator Ori at the hotel, which they were attributing to Frank. He had came out and asked if his tie looked okay and you said “Sure, it’s fine” without facing him.

“Jesus, Y/N/N. How long you gonna act like this?” He complained.

“I shouldn’t have to be the bigger person.” You spat back, still keeping your back to him. “I shouldn’t have to bend to keep us on track. Let me ask you this, Bill. That guy with the- the eye thing. He having you go after Frankie?”

“Y/N…”

“I swear to God I will walk out that door.” You threatened and turned to face him. You watched his eyes dart between yours as he took in your expression. “Everything you’ve been doing lately, was it all about Frank?”

“Yeah...”

“Catching him?”

“Yeah…”

“Killing him?”

You didn’t even know how you managed to get that question out but you did. It felt as if your throat had tightened and the three short syllables were rung out of your voice box like water out of a towel.

“Yeah…” He answered, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart grew heavy in your chest and it nearly felt

like it had stopped beating.

“And you wonder why I’m pissed off.” You said flatly, pushing past  and leaving him behind you.

“Baby, it's just business, alright? Nothing personal.”

“It should be personal!” You turned and shouted. “That’s my goddamn brother!”

“You want me to apologize for doing my job?” He asked sharply.

“Yes!” You threw your arms forward. “Apologize for trying to kill my brother!”

“It’s my job!”

“Well excuse me for thinking you cared about me more than a fucking paycheck.” You put hands up in surrender and turned away, back into the kitchen.

“C’mon, babe.” He sighed, hurrying after you. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s always up to me, even when it shouldn’t be.” You complained. “You want me to take the blame for a fight and I do. I do because I love you and I always think it’ll be the last time.”

“Y/N…” He said your name softly, confused even. As if he had barely realized what the routine with you had become.

Argue about something, sometimes petty and sometimes not. Then you’ll make up when you apologize, but nothing changes. It was a vicious cycle that Billy was completely oblivious to, until now.

“I think that maybe next time you’ll be the bigger person cause I’m sick and tired of carrying the burden of every argument.” You shrugged, tears forming in your eyes that you ignored. “Keep moving my boundaries so you don’t cross lines, keep quiet when you yell. All cause I thought I had to to make it last between us.”

“I… I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He took a moment to think over his next words. It felt like a very defining moment for your relationship. He never meant to make you feel that way, and knowing he had was arguably the worst pain he’d ever felt. How did he not notice? How could he do that to you?

“Tell me how to make this right.” He said softly, gently reaching to take your hand. You looked up at him while you let your hand sit in his. He looked at you with wide, soft eyes that were begging for forgiveness. “I’ll do anything.”

“You think it’s that easy?” You countered with a small challenge. “Billy, you’ve been hunting down my brother for a man who doesn’t care about you. That guy will throw you under the bus as soon as he needs to, just like everyone else. But my brother? You know damn well Frank would’ve done anything to protect you. He never would’ve don’t this to you.”

“No… He would’ve.”

“Why?” 

He looked towards the ceiling and sighed heavily. Your stomach felt tight and your blood ran warm with anticipation while you took a step back, taking your hand away from his.

“What did you do?” You urged.

“The carousel.” He began and that knot in your stomach grew tighter.

“You were there?”

“No.” He looked back to you, a silent plea in his expression. To hear him out, to believe him, to forgive him. “No, I wasn’t, I swear.”

“You didn’t shoot him? Or Maria? Or the kids?”

“No, I wouldn’t do it.” He shook his head and you could’ve sworn you saw tears in his eyes. “I said no.”

You were quiet as things began to click and you knew it reflected in your eyes as Billy’s expression changed.

“But you knew… You knew they were coming after my brother and that’s why we went out instead of me going with them.” You realized and the thick weight of betrayal slammed into your chest so hard you thought the bones would break. “How fucking dare you stand in front of me.”

“No, Y/N, please. Let me-“

“Let you what?” You cut in sharply and your hands tightened into fists at your side. “Let you explain? What is there to explain when you just admitted to knowing that your worthless fucking friends were gonna kill my family and you did nothing?” Your voice grew to a scream as you rambled.

His eyes shot to your hands and he took a step back from you.

“My niece and nephew, Billy!” You shouted. “They were kids! And Maria, she loved you. And you just let it happen.”

“I couldn’t do anything.” He spoke quietly.

“You’re kidding, right?” You laughed in disbelief. “You could’ve warned him!”

“He wouldn’t have believed me!” He reasoned.

“Y’know what.” You took a deep breath. “Just get out.”

“Y/N..”

“Aren’t you late for your interview?”

He opened his mouth to speak but the glare you gave him kept him quiet. Instead, he collected his things and went to leave.

“I didn’t want all this.” He called from the door. “It wasn’t supposed to end up this way.”

“Yeah, you worked so hard to keep it from me.” You countered. “Good luck when Frank finds out.”

The door closed soon after and you found your phone. You scrolled your contacts until Karen’s name popped up. You had met the woman when her friends were defending Frank in court and you two had stayed decent friends. You texted and said you had seen the news about Frank and asked if she could help you get in touch with him.

karen (lawyer): just put flowers in the window

[americaarse]

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

finale - sinner

tags: n/a // ten // epilogue // masterlist

Pairing: frank x reader, billy x reader

Word Count: 10,008

Summary: It all comes down to one final night, where it all began. One who thinks he’s a god versus the one who once scared the Devil and the Punisher. The Devil wasn’t wrong after all to fear the evil she delivers.

David helped you get Frank into Dinah’s car. You were so out of it by then that you didn’t even know when the gun at the back of your head disappeared or what Dinah told her team for them to leave you all alone.

You sat with him in the backseat, letting yourself absorb his pain to keep him calm and give him a better chance. The drive seemed to go by in a blur given the fact that your body was still reeling with the effects the adrenaline shot. You three managed to get Frank into Dinah’s parents’ apartment and her dad helped to take care of Frank.

Your head was still pounding even though the gash had long since stopped bleeding. Your chest ached and your hand was clutching that familiarly cracked rib while your heart pounded viciously. Every breath felt ragged and your balance was uneven. Before you could say anything or catch yourself, you collapsed to the floor.

You were unconscious for hours. You woke up with your mask and suit off. Your torso was wrapped tightly and your head was carefully bandaged. You sat up and felt the uncomfortable shift of your ribs, though the pain was significantly less. You looked around and saw your bloodied mask and Bites on the nightstand. Your suit was tossed over a nearby chair and you were wearing the hoodie and sweats you had been wearing before the meeting with Billy.

Billy…

You rubbed a hand across your eyes and when you pulled it back, you noticed there were thin red lines around your wrist. Looking at it fully, you noticed the other wrist had the same marks. From the zip ties, you figured.

Dinah came in soon after and was the first to notice you were awake. She gave a tight smile and placed a folded outfit at the edge of the bed before she turned to Frank.

“Hey, Princess.” Frank said softy, reaching over to take your hand.

“Hey.” You replied and your voice was raspier than you anticipated. “It done?”

“Not yet.” Dinah answered with a sigh. “You should take Lieberman’s little gift and disappear, fast.”

“Gift?” Your brows furrowed before an envelope landed beside you on the bed. You looked at the source and David gave you a small nod. You opened it carefully and saw it was packed with hundred dollar bills while Dinah kept talking.

“I’d say the same goes for you, Y/L/N, but given the fact that no one there knows it was you, your secret’s safe for now.”

“My secret…” You repeated. “Funny you say that when my mask is across the room.”

“The only people that have seen your face are the people in this room. And my parents but they don’t know your name.”

“If I ever see you again after you walk out of this door, then all bets are off.” Dinah warned as Frank stood to leave. “I will take you in or I will shoot you down.”

“Wait.” You threw the covers back and jumped to your feet. As soon as you landed, your knees buckled and you nearly collapsed. Pushing through it, you chased after Frank and ignored the voices calling you back. “You can’t leave me.”

“You’re gonna be alright.” He said gently. “You don’t need me around, Y/N/N.”

“I don’t wanna be alone again.” Your eyes burned with the threatening tears. “I can’t take being alone again.”

“You’re not alone, okay? Call your friends, yeah? I’ll see you around.”

“Frank...”

“I know.” He practically whispered. “But you gotta trust me. Just… Please, trust me. I'm gonna take care of it.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from this.” You countered firmly.

“Alright.” He scoffed. “Look at yourself, Y/N. That rib’s been busted almost as long as I’ve known you. Your head gets split open once a month. You’re probably living with a concussion, God knows what else. You keep going like this, this thing is gonna crush you.”

“I don’t care. I need to see this to the end.”

“It’s not your fight, Princess. You steer clear of this and I know that even if he kills me, he’ll leave you alone.”

“I can fight for myself. And you wanna talk about what’s happened to me, you’re no better off.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged.  “You’re one of the few things left worth fighting for, alright? So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“And I’m not helpless. I can go through this and not die.”

“Yeah? I bet Red thought the same thing and look where he ended up.”

Without hesitation, you brought your hand up and slapped him across the face. You hadn’t even realized you had done it until the sound seemed to echo throughout the room. Your eyes went wide in mild shock at your own action, but at the same time, it didn’t surprise you to react that way.

No one got to talk about Matt and his death, especially someone who wasn’t there.

He pushed past you after that, upset that you had hit him but also relieved that you were passed at him. Using your powers for a brief moment, you understood he wanted you to be mad at him so you’d stay away. So you’d leave him to die if it came to it.

He didn’t seem to realize just how stubborn you could be.

You went back into the bedroom and collected your gear. You tucked it under your sweatshirt and thanked Dinah for her help again. You asked her to thank her dad and wished David best of luck with his family before you left. Dinah was saying something about her seeing it through and that you or Frank didn’t have a monopoly on payback. Truthfully, you let it go in one ear and out the other.

Billy Russo was going to pay. You spared him too many times. In turn, he spared you but the tit-for-tat system was getting you nothing. Nothing but physical pain and injury and for what? For him to win?

You got into your apartment and once again found Karen inside, the chest that hid Daredevil open at her feet. She apologized and said she tried to call. Her explanation shifted to questions when she saw the bandages on your forehead while you pulled your bloodied alias from under your hoodie. You simply threw the pile into the closet and kept moving past her, towards your bedroom. You paused at the small box you had kicked out of your way before so you picked it up and brought it with you.

You sat on the edge of your bed and unfolded the small piece of paper that was tucked under the edge of the lid.

-sorry about everything, billy-

You made a face to yourself before tossing the paper and opening the box.

It wasn’t until you heard your front door close did you pull your phone. You called the familiar number, knowing it’d be the last time. It had to be.

“And here I was thinking you didn’t want anything to do with me. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He said when he answered and to your surprise, there was no malice in his words.

“Can’t I just call to check in?” You answered.

“I didn’t think you’d want to, given the fact that you, yknow, shot me.”

“And you slammed my head into a pole till I went unconscious so I’d say it balances out.”

“Why are you calling, Y/N?”

“Why’d you answer, Billy?”

“General curiosity.” He said simply. “Your turn.”

“The watch.” You spun it in your hand and your fingers felt a difference in texture. Glancing down, you almost laughed. “Was it one of yours?”

“No, picked it out just for you.”

“So what’s with the BR on the inside of the strap?”

He chuckled as if he was caught and the mundaneness of the conversation felt so out of place.

“I saw that ring your Matt got you, the one with his name in it. Thought if we could smooth things over, you’d have something with mine but…”

“At least it’ll get a good chunk from the pawn shop.” You shrugged.

“Ouch. I know it doesn’t match your little costume, which I gotta say, makes you look great.”

“C’mon, Billy. You’re gonna tell me you don’t understand that all this is on you? Your choices led us here.”

“You made a choice too. But you don’t see me throwing that back at you.”

“Difference is I made a good one. You’ve done yourself no favors.”

“I still don’t get what’s so special about Frank.”

“That man was damn near dead and he was worried about me. He’s always taken my side and looked out for me. You say that you’d never hurt me but I know he wouldn’t. He’s the closest to family that I have in New York. You don’t get to take that from me.”

“As much as I love our little chats, Beautiful, I’ve got things to take care of.”

“If you manage to get through Frank and it comes down to you and me, you’re dead.” You warned.

“Can’t wait.”

The line went dead and you dropped the phone in your lap. You rubbed your aching eyes and took a few deep breaths, as deep as the tight bandages would allow.

You were running through scenarios as to what Billy would be up to. Hiding at Anvil was an option, but unlikely. You figured Homeland would’ve raided the place by now, or at the very least be in the process of raiding. Same could be said about his place. His bridge with you and Dinah was burned so he wouldn’t be on his way to either place.

All that really could leave would be Curtis.

Curtis.

You jumped up quickly and hurried to change. You dressed in a hurry before practically running to the closet. You shoved a gun into the waistband of your pants and snatched your bag before you left. You were nearly

sprinting to your car to get to Curtis’ place.

You thought to call Frank but how could you? You doubted he had any sort of burner, not one you had the number of at least. Besides, he was more than willing to do it without you. Dinah wouldn’t be the help you needed. So you were on your own.

You banged on the door and waited for an answer, though you were met with silence. You banged on it again, harder than before, and still got no response. You muttered to yourself about Curtis sleeping like the dead before you knelt and reached under your shirt for one of the metal fasteners on the bandages. You bent it back and forth until it snapped into two pieces and you used the pieces to pick the lock.

You drew your gun and carefully opened the door, seeing a phone slide across the floor. You moved in slowly and saw Billy on the other end of the room, ducked below the windowsill. Your eyes scanned the room and it was easy to see the bullet holes. You nodded towards the window in question and Billy gave you a small nod before he lifted the phone to his ear.

You saw Curtis peak around from the floor of the kitchen and your focus immediately changed. You hurried over and dropped the gun at your side before examining the wound. You gently pulled the collar of his shirt aside to see the bloodied injury. You clicked your tongue, knowing there wasn’t much you could do at the moment, and applied pressure.

“Finish this where it all started.” You heard Billy say.

You gave no outward reaction but you knew what he meant.

Midnight at the carousel.

He left after that but you stayed at Curtis’ for a while longer. You two talked about what Billy was doing there while you waited for the ambulance. You were glad it was only the one gunshot and the shot itself wasn’t lethal. Whatever Billy’s plan there was, it wasn’t about killing Curtis, and you were thankful for that.

You went back home once the ambulance took him away. You had washed your hands at his place, but they still felt wet. Dripping with the blood of everyone you’d met. Everyone you’d hurt. Everyone you’d killed.

You had to shake the thought as you got to your apartment. You knew what you had to do, only it wasn’t a job for Y/N. It was set up for Exodus to finish.

Kill Billy Russo. Save Frank, save yourself.

It seemed so simple when you thought of it that way and maybe it was that easy. You were in the closet under the stairs gathering your equipment in a duffel bag. A clean suit, your new vest, Bites, gloves, mask with intact lenses, staffs, and a fully loaded belt. You fit the retractable blade to your wrist and tossed two handguns on your couch before going to your bedroom to change.

Dark fitted pants, dark red fitted long sleeve, your usual vigilante boots. You fit your FBI issued vest over it for the time being and threw a loose zip up over it. You sent a quick text to Dex before you threw your phone to your bed.

central park carousel 1230

Your phone landed beside the watch and you found yourself wanting to break it, stomp your heel on it and hear the glass break. Pull the straps apart and drive a knife through the rest. But you didn’t. You’d bury it with him. Dead, just like your feelings for him.

You pulled your hair back and looked at the long gash on your forehead, opposite the side of your mask scars. It buried itself in your hairline and was nearly healed, the slightest discoloration in your skin. You blew out a sigh and stared at your face as a whole.

She looked like you, close enough at least. Half alive compared to what you looked like when you first came to town. Twice as weak. More vulnerable than you ever intended, more willing to let people in. For that, you blamed Matt. It was easier to decide it was his fault

but you still looked for him in any other man.

But it seemed like every person you let in was another scar, another injury, more blood loss. You were always the loser, but as you stared into your ghosted eyes, you decided you’d get through the fight.

And if it killed you, then at least you tried. You had lived a life worth more than anything you would’ve had in the Red Room.

Despite all the sentiment, you couldn’t afford the vulnerability. The weakness. So you watched as the light Frank saw not too long ago fade from your eyes, locking away the weakness behind Exodus’ strength. What filled the light’s absence was almost as hollow, almost as empty. It was the look of a killer, of someone who has courted death.

It was the look of someone who truly was half alive. Someone that once brought out fear in the Devil of Hell’s kitchen, that decimated the Russians, uprooted Fisk’s empire, crushed the Yakuza. A trained killer, raised on the bitter taste of blood and changing the history of man. Someone who you tried to get away from but what’s good was that?

She was your shadow, and to be rid of that would be to lose a piece of yourself.

So be it.

You went back into your living room and placed your guns at your back, tucked into your belt. You stopped in at the closet one more time to add a knife inside your boot before you grabbed your bag. You slung it over your shoulder and bounded down the stairs to your car, throwing the bag into your backseat.

You drove over to the park, leaving your car a block away. You were going to survey the area and see if you could get a better vantage point, somewhere you could see it all but Billy wouldn’t see you. Before you left your car, you grabbed your Bites and shoved them in your jacket pockets.

You were wandering the emptying area, offering polite smiles to the kids who made eye contact with you while they laughed wildly. Their parents apologized but you assured them it was fine as you kept going. You had circled the small novelty feature and found nothing interesting until there was a small clatter inside the snack bar. You thought nothing of it at first but you moved closer to make sure.

Their voices were muffled, deeper into the room than you initially anticipated. You fitted your Bites into place and tugged your sleeve down to cover as you snuck into the room. You didn't need your mask to see that it was Billy, especially when their fear began to burn your tongue.

Your hand flexed and your Bite activated as you gave yourself a clear shot.

“Let them go, Bill.” You said flatly and you noticed your accent tinting your words. The girl yelped from the other room and Billy turned to face you calmly. You lifted your hand and aimed your weapon with the same sense of control. “They don’t have anything to do with this.”

“You wanna take their place?” His brows raised.

“Sure.” You shrugged. “If it’s to get to Frank, he’s gonna care more about me anyway.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement before gesturing for the kids to leave. They squeezed past him and practically ran out, stammering a rushed ‘thank you’ as they passed, but you didn’t take your eyes off Billy.

“No suit this time?” He asked, leaning against the wall behind him. He crossed his arms and you noticed his gun was still in play, poking out from between his forearm and bicep. “But the accent’s kinda hot. Where’s that been this whole time?”

“Funny.” You rolled your eyes.

“Lighten up.” He tried with a smile but your expression didn’t change. “Jesus, Y/N, will you put that down?”

“No.”

“Alright, well then.” He sighed and moved quickly.

He fired his gun, hardly even moving it. The bullet hit the inside of your raised wrist and you cried out, arm falling down almost immediately. You examined the joint and were thankful it didn’t get through the Bite. However, your relief was short lived when the sharp electricity shot through your arm. Looking closer, the bullet cracked your weapon and now it was shorting out, releasing unregulated bursts.

You were reaching to take the device off when Billy’s touch stole your attention. Your head snapped up and as soon as your eyes met, he backhanded you with his pistol and you fell to the floor.

The sudden lights and movement pulled you back. Your eyes fluttered open and your arm still twitched from the electricity. Your arms were above your head, bound to the pole of the carousel horse that you could feel along the length of your spine.

You blinked through the lights and pulled on your restraints, which only sent another shock through your arm and you felt the zipties dig deeper into the tender skin. Why he didn’t take the Bites off, you didn’t know. Maybe the faulty one shocked him when he touched it. You shifted your body and felt both guns still against your back and shaking your foot, you felt the knife handle in your boot. Yet your jacket was gone.

You figured he left them because if you were restrained, it didn’t matter what weapons you had on your person.

“Billy?” You tried but opening your mouth allowed for a new pain to begin thumping at your jaw.

You rolled your eyes to yourself when you realized it was from when he hit you. You were going to get him back for that.

You had a feeling you were alone, or at least that he wanted to feel that way. As you spun on the stupid horse, you scanned the area. You knew he had to be somewhere. You felt the pride bouncing off the mirrors around you but the source wasn’t visible.

“Billy!” You yelled and pulled the restraints again, this time breaking skin on one side. “Goddammit…”

Your implant pinged in your head so you adjusted your head to bump your shoulder until it answered.

“The hell you doing here, Princess?” Frank asked tightly. Anger was in his voice but it didn’t feel directed at you, not completely at least. The concern between the syllables was.

“Not much at the moment.” You answered, shifting in the horse to sit sideways and get a better view of the restraints. You winced loudly as another shock ran up your arm and it made you wonder how much more juice was in that damn thing. “Could use some help.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of it?” He argued instead and you had to roll your eyes.

“Sorry, I missed the part where I was supposed to listen to you.” You answered sarcastically. “Besides, it’s not like I planned to be stuck to a stupid horse.”

“You think you’ll be alright for a few minutes till I can get to you?”

“Sure.” You said before pulling on your wrists to get them further down the pole. “If my arm doesn’t lock up.. Dying would be one hell of an adventure, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“You see him?”

“No.”

“Alright. I’m coming.”

You nudged your shoulder to shut it off and turned your focus back to your restraints. You tried twisting your wrists in opposite directions but it just dug the plastic deeper until the other side broke skin. Your next thought was the knife in your boot, but you’d fall off the horse trying to get it out. Next thought was the knife at your wrist. You were adjusting your hands to ensure the blade didn’t knick you when the explosions sounded.

Three loud, bright collisions that made you jump and nearly fall off the stupid animal. You craned your neck to look but that ridiculous spin put you on the other side while the gunfire sounded.

You slammed your foot against the closet horse in annoyance and Billy came into your field of vision, keeping low to likely keep visual on Frank.

“C’mon, Billy.” You commented, taking a deep breath and readjusting to sit back up on the horse. “Here I was thinking you were gonna play fair.”

“Shut up.” He sneered, still not looking at you.

“I’m just saying.” You shrugged, looking up at your hands again. You tried to flick the blade out but the tight constricts kept you from being able to fully move it. You groaned in annoyance and turned your attention back to Billy.

Manipulation it was.

“Billy, baby, c’mon.” You tried instead, drawing on that need he had to be wanted. “You don’t wanna do this. Not to me.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Let me outta these, yeah?” You kept pushing and found the slightest piece of admiration for you. He tried to hide it, to ignore it so killing you wouldn’t hurt him. But you found it. The slightest hint of an attachment. “We can… We can fix us. That’s what you want, right? You and me, clean slate.”

At that, he turned his head. The colored neon showed just enough of his expression that you saw the wide eyes he gave you. Disbelief, but want so clear on his face. If you had seen that expression hours before, maybe it would’ve changed your mind.

“C’mon, Bill. You don’t wanna hurt me, right?” You urged, nearing your own desperation as your arm was hit again and the jolt made your whole body react. “Please.”

The skin beneath the damaged Bite was burning, likely being worn through by the constant assault. The muscles in your arm were victim to constant spasms, soaked through with the remnants of electricity. It was almost enough to make you scream.

Billy drew closer but didn’t put his rifle down. He kept looking between you and the scene behind you, keeping an eye out for Frank no doubt. If Frank got close enough, you knew you could count on him to get you out, but at the time, that wasn’t an option.

So instead of screaming, you let yourself cry. You would’ve used some old pain or trauma of your own, but there was enough coming from Frank that you didn’t need to.

“Billy..” You said in a small voice, hoping to appear helpless and pathetic as the tears fell down your cheeks. “Please, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, just…”

He had just taken a hand of his gun to reach for a knife when he must’ve seen Frank. He was quick to raise his gun again as shots came in from the other side. You tried to duck and a bullet hit the center of the zipties wrapped around the pole. Your arms fell quickly and you reached to grab Billy’s rifle.

Once your hands were on it, you spun your legs and went off the opposite side of the house to force his gunfire towards the middle of the carousel. He released the trigger after a bullet bounced back and caught him in the cheek, causing him to fall to the ground yelling in pain.

You smiled slightly as he spit out the bullet. You knelt down, ensuring your foot was on the rifle, and grabbed Billy by his face. Your fingertip pressed on the new wound and fresh blood bubbled out and over your fingers. The sight drew another sadistic smile.

“What happens when you’re dead, hmm?” You asked, an innocent tone in your voice that didn’t match the scene at all. “Who’ll mourn you?… Look at you now, pretty boy. Какая пустая трата этого красивого лица.” (What a waste of this pretty face.)

He shoved your hand off and grabbed you by your throat. You let him back you against the center of the carousel and laughed to yourself when he pulled a handgun. You snuck your hand behind your back and grabbed one of your own, carefully wrapping your fingers around the cold metal as his came to your forehead.

“Count of three?” You asked with a smile.

He added more pressure to his grip and you coughed slightly at the restriction of air.

“You come out where I can see you, Frank, or I kill her right now!” Billy yelled, looking in either direction for Frank before looking back at you. “You beg.”

“No.” You said flatly.

“You beg Frank to come out and save your life, right now!”

“Fuck you!”

“Beg!”

“You know I’d never hurt you right?” You mocked him loudly, though it wasn’t much of a yell with his hand around your throat. “I never loved you, y’know.”

“What?”

“I was just passing the time.” You shrugged, a sadistically out of place smirk finding your lips. “I bet you loved me though. Cause I knew how to lie.”

“I’m gonna enjoy this.” He sneered but the venom in his tone did nothing to hide the blue fog that seemed to shape his words.

“I doubt it. And as far as Frankie’s concerned, yeah, he doesn’t care about me either.” You laughed. “Go ahead and pull the trigger. I dare you.”

“Let her go, Bill.” Frank said from a few feet away but your eyes didn’t leave Billy.

“Doesn’t care, huh?” Billy taunted before turning back to Frank, instructing him to ditch his gun.

You heard the clatter of his gun and soon after, his knife.

“Идиот.” You said to yourself, which caused Billy to pull you a few inches forward and slam you back. The impact triggered another shock from your busted device and you cried out sharply. (Idiot.)

“Shut up or I put a bullet in you right now!” He screamed in your face.

“Давай.” You sneered through gritted teeth. (Go ahead.)

“Bill, let her go.” Frank tried, desperation spewing from him like a busted pipe. “Let her go.”

“Attachments are a weakness, Frank.” Billy said, his voice dripping with condescension. He let you go to take a few steps closer to Frank and you collapsed, one side of your body still tingling with the electricity of your Bite. “I never had anybody.”

“Don’t.” You tried to get to your feet but Billy ignored you.

“You had us, Bill.” Frank answered and Billy shot him.

You flinched at the sound and looked up, surprised to see Dinah kneeling in front of you. Suddenly, you were the one starting to panic.

“What are you doing here?” You asked quietly as she helped you to your feet. “How did you know where we would be?”

“You okay?” She asked in the same hushed tone instead.

“I’ve got cuts around both wrists and I’m pretty sure I’ve burnt some of the nerves in my wrist and hand. What do you think?” You gave a sarcastic expression. “Listen, he’s lost it, alright? You need to-“

Before you could finish your sentence, a gunshot sounded and Dinah went down. Her finger on the trigger went off as she did and the bullet from her gun nicked the underside of your jaw, skirting along the bone. You teetered back against the mirrored center and the commotion started between the boys. You opened and closed your mouth to break up the burn from the bullet and peered down at the fallen agent, blood pooling from the new hole in her skull.

Your previous panic was burned out, replaced by a familiar heat of anger. A heat you used to curse but were thankful for. Your anger came with the red tint, the manic bloodlust that had come to worry you. Only now you reveled in it, welcomed it. You counted on it. You would thrive with it.

Billy was too focused on fighting Frank to realize you were coming up behind him. You ran up and used the pole closest to him as leverage. You gripped it with both hands and threw your feet forward to hit his back and send him to the floor.

He spun to his back as you were landing and he kicked one of your feet out, dropping you to your knees. You began to reach behind you when a bullet hit your wrist. It went in through the bottom and came out the other side. You cried out and clutched the bleeding joint. You yanked the broken Bite off and the shattered device left chunks of material behind in the opening. Blood bubbled and filled the now empty space and your hand trembled while a thick stream leaked down your arm.

You reached into your boot for your knife to cut your sleeve off. Using your teeth, you pulled some of the fabric away from your arm and pierced it with the knife. You yanked it down your arm before trying it haphazardly around your wrist. You tried to flex that hand, ensure there was enough blood getting to your digits, but the muscles were already tight from the electricity.

You had no idea if you’d bleed out by the time the night ended. It was a sharp slap in the face to realize that you really could die that night, to something as stupid as blood loss.

Matt’s voice came into your head at that point.

C’mon, Sweetheart. You’re not giving up yet.

You shook the thought and focused back on the scene in front of you. Billy had just thrown Frank to the ground so you grabbed your knife again and went after him.

You reached around from behind and out the blade to his neck. Before you could pull it and slice him open, he grabbed your arm and flipped you over his shoulder. Your back hit hard and he began turning the blade to point at you.

One of his hands wrapped around yours to keep the knife in your hand and the other pushed on your arm. You threw your free arm up to block it and flicked out the short blade at your wrist. You swung it quickly and blindly, but you felt it connect. Where it hit, you didn’t know but it was enough for him to let you go.

Frank got to your side and helped get you to your feet. You gripped your knife tighter and it shifted against your bloody palm before you put it away.

You wanted to do it with your bare hands.

Billy’s foot connected Frank’s chest and he fell back against one of the horses. 

You waited until you saw Frank up on his hands and knees before you moved. You vaulted over Frank, planting your hands on his back for stability as you kicked your feet forward. Your legs wrapped around Billy’s waist and you hauled yourself upright. The momentum of your upper body was enough to throw him into the nearest pole. One hand locked around the strap of his bulletproof vest from the underside while the other threw sharp punches.

You felt his hands on your waist and before you could react, he was driving forward with the intent of slamming you into something. You released his vest and pulled your hand back quickly, slicing a shallow gash from the middle of his jaw to his temple. You brought both arms up and slammed your elbows down against his spine, just as the middle of your back hit hard against the carriage-shaped seat and knocked the air out of you before you collapsed to your knees, wheezing in a poor effort to refill your lungs.

Again, Matt’s voice but this time he said a phrase you had never said around him. Something you learned from your aunt.

You can’t breathe, you can’t fight.

That was when you knew you were losing it. He shouldn’t have known that saying, yet you heard his voice as clear as the music around you. If you went down, you truly understood, you wouldn’t get back up. And for once in your life, that actually scared you.

You moved back at him quickly, swinging your blade at Billy. He ducked it easily and you wondered for a moment if it was due to the blood you lost. You buried the thought and moved in again, aiming a sharp jab at the bottom of his bulletproof. He jumped away from your attack and you dropped to your knees to knock his feet from under him.

As he fell, you pulled your blade back out. You flipped it over the back of your hand and tried to slam it down, aimed right at the soft spot at the base of his throat. His hand shot up and caught your hand, desperately trying to keep the tip of your knife away.

You threw your leg over him so you were straddling his chest with hopes of leaning enough of your weight forward to get the knife to pierce. After a few more seconds of no progress, you groaned loudly and pulled your hand back. You lifted the knife high and held it in both hands.

You screamed loudly in frustration as you drove it down again. Billy was quick to throw you off, your knife getting lost in the process. You two kept rolling until he was able to get on top of you and pinned your arms above your head.

You thrashed under his weight but to no avail. Every movement seemed to drain more strength than usual so out of desperation, you slammed your forehead against his. He fell off you and you were quick to shift and kick your feet hard, one heel catching him in the cheek in the same spot your knife slashed earlier.

You got to your feet and took a deep breath as Billy got up, only a few feet away from you. You two locked eyes a moment and from the taste in your mouth, you knew you weren’t the woman he was used to seeing. Now bloodied, chest heaving with heavy breaths, eyes empty save for the thought of murder. You were what the rumors said Exodus to be, especially when you smiled.

You rushed him again and threw an acrobatic kick that made him stagger backwards. When you landed, you swung the blade at your wrist. You made sure to keep your bloodied wrist out of the way for the most part, relying on the short knife on your wrist. You managed to catch him with small gashes, just able to slice his shoulder or his arm.

The tip of Billy’s wrist blade came at you and caused you to change your stance, resulting in a shallow stab to your stomach and exposure of your injury as you swung a heavy hook to counter. He caught your wrist and held tightly but you refused to make a sound. Instead, you used the other hand to grab his shirt and hooked a foot around his. You threw your body weight and flipped you two over again so you slammed into the ground. You landed on your side, aggravating your long standing rib injury, and you groaned to yourself as you uneasily got up to your feet.

Before you even register Billy’s location, he grabbed the back of your neck instead and you shot a foot out to keep him from slamming your head again. You added the other foot and kicked off, throwing your body against his.

He hit the horse behind him and you hit him, but both of you went down.

Frank took over at that point, pinning him down and beating on him while you used one of the horses to haul yourself up. Your hands slipped from the blood and your own legs threatened to go out from under you. You glanced down and saw the makeshift dressing was already soaked through and dripping. You groaned to yourself and wondered how much longer until it was half past midnight and Dex would show up.

Matt’s voice came again.

If you can’t stand, you can’t fight… Get up and fight. Back. Don’t let him win.

You wobbled on your feet and you were turning back at the fight when Frank slammed into your side. Your ribs knocked into the horse and felt the crack echo through. You groaned loudly before pushing yourself up, just in time for Billy to grab you by your hair.

Before he could do anything, you jumped over the horse and heard the thud of him hitting it behind you. You spun to face him before you pulled his arm over the top of the horse and you slammed your elbow down. The snap was loud and he cried out, signaling it broke. You smiled viciously before you fired from your Bite, a shot that caught him on the shoulder. He reeled away and you fired again, hitting almost the same spot. You followed after him and slammed the blade at your wrist into his shoulder before you grabbed his shirtfront. You yanked hard while throwing yourself back, pulling you both to the ground.

Your bloodied hand reached behind you and pulled one of the guns. You leaned back and the blade pulled back with you while you aimed. Before you could fire, he knocked the gun out of your hand. He changed your positions and you were on your back with his knee on your bulleted wrist.

As if on cue, Frank tackled Billy off.

“Никогда не заканчивается, не так ли…” You said to yourself, holding your fragile hand to your chest. (Never ends, does it…)

You had practically no feeling left in it and your fingertips were growing cold to the touch. You could move the digits but just barely. For a second, you thought they’d have to amputate your hand.

You forced the thought away and made your way back to Frank who had Billy against the mirrors. As you got closer, you saw the blood dripping from Billy’s stomach. You got there just in time for Frank to drag Billy’s face down the shattered mirror and you smiled genuinely. Frank backed off for a second to check on you and Billy tried to use the moment to his advantage.

You caught the punch he threw and shoved your short blade through his forearm, seeing the tip of the blade come out the other side. He screamed out and you forced him arm down, pressing your other at the base of his shoulder before you dragged him in a circle and shoved him face first into the jagged mirror. The action pulled the blade off your wrist but the blade was still lodged in his arm.

Frank held Billy by his hair and put a piece of the broken mirror against his throat. You stood beside your friend and pulled out your other gun, pressing it to Billy’s temple.

“Everyone I know will know your name.” You said lowly. “И все они будут презирать тебя за то, что ты сделал.” (And they’ll despise you for what you’ve done.)

You two met eyes in the shattered mirror while Billy mumbled something you weren’t listening to.

Your hearing had muffled itself by then. The edges of your vision were blurring and you felt unsteady on your feet but you pushed as the adrenaline faded from your blood. You persisted because you needed to see it through.

You came too far.

The two boys exchanged words before Frank put his weapon away. You hesitantly did the same but before you could attempt to speak, Frank kicked Billy into the glass again.

He slammed Billy into it a few more times while saying something you didn’t register. He offered you a turn and instead of slamming his head, you kicked your foot forward and your heel hit his face. You heard the crunch as the shards dug in deeper and while Frank finished his monologue, you remembered Dinah.

You made your way over and practically collapsed at her side. She was alive, at least. By the time Frank got to you, you were on the brink of passing out. Frank tried talking to you but you hardly processed any of it.  Instead, you forced the other Bite off and shoved it into his hand.

He practically threw the device before he sat beside you and carefully dragged you into his lap. One arm was behind you to keep you upright while the other reached for the bullet wound. You were fighting to keep your eyes open when you felt a sudden cold.

You weren’t sure if it was your own body temperature or Frank but when you got your eyes to focus, if only for a second, you couldn’t miss the blue haze across Frank’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You managed weakly. 

“You’re okay…” You couldn’t hear his words but you could read his lips. “It’s gonna be- gonna be okay. Just stay with me.”

Your head fell to the side and you saw a figure running up to you. He practically fell to his knees in front of you and his hands carefully cupped your cheeks.

————————————

You were no longer cold or in pain. You were no longer dripping blood and in agony. Everything was calm, quiet. Everything felt peaceful.

You felt at peace for the first time.

The scene around you had changed from the carousel to a vast, empty space. There seemed to be a spotlight on you and Matt, while everything else was drowned out in a heavy darkness.

“You’re safe, baby.” Matt promised. “You can stay here, with me.”

“I love you.” You said quietly.

“I love you, too.” He smiled.

—“C’mon, Princess. Not here.”—

“Did you hear that?” You asked, glancing around the shadows before Matt pulled you against him.

“Hear what?” His brows furrowed as he led you in a small box step. “It’s okay, Y/N/N. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

—“Y/L/N? Can you hear me?”—

“No, someone else is…” You shook your head as you understood something. Looking at Matt, you realized he was looking at you in return.

Looking at you, meaning he could see you.

—“I can’t find a pulse. We’re losing her!”

If Matt could see you, if Matt was there with you, then you weren’t at the carousel. Not consciously, at least. You were on the true brink of death.

“I’m dying.” You realized.

“Stay with me.” Matt tried, holding you a bit tighter as if he knew you had to choose.

“I can’t…” You whispered. “I can’t die like this, Matty.”

“Please.”

“My beautiful baby.” A female voice said.

Your attention turned quickly and you saw a woman standing a few feet away. She had tears in her eyes and her hands covered her mouth, but the crinkle at her eyes showed you she was smiling. You dared to take a step closer and you realized the woman had the same eyes you did.

“Mom?” You asked quietly, your stomach sinking.

“Hi, sweet girl.” She answered sweetly. “You grew up so beautiful.”

“Mom…”

“Hi, Y/N.”

Y/N… No, that wasn’t right. Your mother should’ve used the name she had given you. The name Dreykov took away.

“This isn’t right.” You said to yourself.

—“Goddamit, Y/N. You don’t get to die here, too… I told you to stay outta this.”—

“It’s okay.” Matt offered. “You don’t have to fight anymore. Isn’t that what you wanted? Peace.”

“Yeah… But not like this. Not if it hurts them.”

“It’s not about them.” Your mother’s voice - what you imagined her voice to be at least - came again. “It’s about you and your peace. Why should you go back for them?”

—“Dammit, Y/L/N, come on!”—

“I can’t leave them.” You understood. “Not like this.”

“Sweetheart?” Matt tried.

“I love you, Matt, so much. Every beat of my heart will be yours until it stops. I'm just not ready to die.”

“I love you too, Y/N/N.” He smiled softly, a sight that was nearly enough for you to stay with him.

“I will never love another, not like I loved you. I just don't have the love for it again… And I’m sorry I let you down.”

“You never let me down.” He gave you a small smile. “You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be.”

————————————

Your eyes opened to a hospital setting. You felt the throb of your pulse at your tightly wrapped wrists. Your entire body was stiff, taped and wrapped and bandaged in various places. You tried moving to adjust on the bed but the pain in your ribs reignited and you froze.

But the explosions were gone. The heat in your veins extinguished. The eternal hole swallowing whatever was left of your soul was erased. Being that close to death seemed to reset your emotional alignment.

“Just relax.” A familiar voice said from your side. Looking over, you saw Dex beside you and you felt some relief in the familiar face.

“How long has it been?” You asked, though you could barely hear your own voice.

“Four days.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yeah.” He breathed in relief. “Pretty much, yeah. I had to make sure you pulled through, y’know”

“Guess that’s why you look like shit.” You joked.

“You’re one to talk.” He laughed lightly.

“Four days…” You repeated thoughtfully. “Does that mean Russo’s dead?”

“Uh, no. No, he’s not. Eleven hours under the knife and they’re still not sure if he’ll regain any significant brain function. Some of the nurses were saying he may not even remember the name if he ever wakes up.”

“What about Castle? Madani?” The incessant beeping from the corner of the room, likely the machine tracking your vitals, began to sound quicker. “Dex, don’t tell me this was all for nothing.”

“They’re alright.” He spoke quickly but his eyes stayed on the beeping machine. “They’re fine. Madani woke up earlier from what I hear. Looks like you took the real brunt of it.”

“Okay, good.” You sighed in relief and you lifted your more heavily bandaged hand to examine the wrapping. “Speaking of, just how bad?”

As if on cue, the doctor came in and gave you a quick rundown. Burned nerves in your hand. Shattered bones in your wrist. Deep cuts around both wrists. Severely broken rib. Concussion. Various bruises and cuts, including a stab wound near your belly button and a bullet nick under your jaw.

She suggested pins to repair the rib and said you’d need some physical therapy for your hand, along with a brace to absorb impacts from work even though they weren’t sure if the pain would ever go away. Some dexterity would be lost but you had expected that. She also explained that they utilized the bullet’s entry and exit to do most of the bone repair so there wouldn’t be additional scarring, as if that small cosmetic detail would make you feel better.

It didn’t.

You denied the pins and before she could try to convince you, your SAC walked in.

“You’re insane, you know that?” She said flatly once the doctor left.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” You agreed. “I’m guessing I’m fired?”

“No… Agent Madani explained why Russo was such a target for you two and it’s enough to piss off and interest both bureaus. Together, the bureaus will provide you two with all the legal resources we can to get Russo behind bars.”

“Behind bars…” You repeated slowly. “Attempted murder on two feds and manslaughter of another?”

“It’s my understanding that he won’t stand trial for Agent Stein since the operation was falsified.”

“You’re kidding.” You groaned. “Alright, well what about Castle?”

“What about him?” She shrugged. “Officially, he was never there.”

“He saved my life.” You argued firmly.

“The narrative has been… redirected. Lewis Wilson and William Russo are the only suspects anyone needs. Your statement and Agent Madani’s statement will corroborate that. Homeland had worked very hard to give your ‘friend’ his life back. Do you really want to take that from him?”

“Did Madani agree to this?”

“She’s the one who wanted to help Castle.”

“I want to see him.”

“No, we need to take your statement first. Interactions outside of this may influence your memory.”

“Well as of now, my statement includes Frank Castle going toe to toe with Russo to give me every chance to go home.” You said sharply. “It includes every hit he took that was meant for me and how I was used as bait to lure him out while you are trying to influence my memory.”

“Traumatic events can impact your memory of the event in its entirety.” Your SAC countered calmly. “Frank Castle was never there.”

“Your statement needs to match the official report, Y/N/N.” Dex tried, a more gentle tone than Hattley.

“Then maybe I should wait till it comes out for it to jog my memory.” You sneered.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, agent.” Hattley said instead. “Get some rest and we’ll try again later.”

Once she left, you turned to Dex.

“I wanna talk to Frank.” You said quietly.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now.” He answered. There was an attempt at sincerity in his voice.

“If I don’t, then he’s gonna be sent away and he won’t know that I’m okay… Please, Dex. He’s my friend.”

“Alright.” He sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once he left, the bedside phone rang.

“Hello?” You answered cautiously.

“Hey there, sugar cube.” A familiar voice said on the other side, one that drew an almost immediate smile.

“That’s a nickname from a children’s show.” You laughed.

“A fantastic children’s show that you just refuse to watch.”

“If you say so, Wade.” You shrugged with a laugh. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Oh, I know everything about you.” He reasoned. “But what I don’t know is what the hell are you out here dying for?”

“Nothing.” You said innocently.

“Right, and I’m a fluffy pink unicorn that can crap diamonds and barf glitter… Come on. Spill. What made you go rogue?”

“The guy lied and wanted to kill my friend.”

“And where was Ye Olde Devil Friend?”

“Dead.”

He gasped dramatically and you chuckled a bit. “I’m sososososo sorry! You okay?”

“I’m working through it.” You said honestly. “In between caring too much and not caring at all.”

“I’ve gotta run because your guy friend’s coming back - which you need to explain that. I can see what you’re into but he also seems like he’s a chicken nugget short of a happy meal if you know what I’m saying… But call me if you need anything, alright? To talk, to cry, to run around town and stab some sickos, make friendship bracelets, vandalize someone’s car. Whatever it is, I’m there for you. Okay, pookie bear?”

“Never call me that again.” You laughed. “Thanks, Wade.. Hang on. How do you knew Dex is-“

“Okay, byyyyeeee!!”

The phone call ended and you sat in quiet shock for a moment. You shrugged it off as part of Wade’s usual antics and replaced the phone. You shifted to get comfortable on the bed when your rib reignited, sending a fresh burn of pain through your side.

“Может быть, булавки были бы хорошей идеей.” You muttered to yourself. (Maybe the pins would’ve been a good idea.)

“Hey, Princess.” Frank’s voice stole your attention.

You smiled widely as he came and sat on the edge of the bed. The action pulled on your busted lip and scraped jaw but you ignored the openings. “Look like hell.”

“Yeah.” You agreed with a small laugh. “Yeah, he sure didn’t take it easy on me.”

“Bet you wish you had listened to me now, huh?” He gently lifted your shot wrist. “How bad’s this?”

“Permanent nerve damage and shattered small bones. Doctor says I’ll need a brace and it could hurt for the rest of my life.”

He set your hand down carefully and kept a gentle hold on your fingers instead. You returned the hold as best you could, despite the pain that shot ups from the small movement.

“Just like that rib, huh?” He tried to joke.

“Had to make it a pair, y’know?” You joked in return.

“They fill you in on Russo yet?”

“Yeah, that he’s basically a vegetable right now and may or may not be worth anything ever again... I want him to remember. I want him to see me and now that I helped do that to him. And I want him to know he deserved it.”

“You really do got a mean streak.” He chuckled.

“They also told me about your help being omitted from the final narrative.”

He hummed in agreement.

“You know where you’re gonna go?”

“Anywhere, I guess.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t wanna go anywhere till I knew you’d be alright.”

“Honestly, Frank, I don’t think I’ll ever really be alright again… Not even physically but mentally. Losing Matt messed with my head and when I was right on that cusp of dying, I saw him. He practically begged me to go with him.”

“Y/N, you did die for about a minute.” Frank said gently.

“I did?”

“Yeah, your heart stopped. Blood loss, they said. Your partner was able to get you started again but it was one of the worst minutes of my life, y’know. You’re family, like a sister. And if I… If I had lost you at that carousel, Jesus, I would’ve…”

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly. “I didn’t think about it that way until it was almost too late.”

“Yeah, I could hear it in your voice that you weren’t thinking or caring.”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to live with that anymore.”

“So why’d you decide you wanted to live?”

“I heard you.” You shrugged. “You and Dex, begging me to stay… Reminded me I’ve still got something here, I guess.”

“Good thing is that part of your heart that Murdock got to is still there.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You nodded. “Doesn’t make anything easier, though.”

“Nah. You and me don’t get easy. Easy gets boring.”

At that you laughed, which made your side hurt, but you didn’t quite care at the moment.

“I’ll get you when you’re released and take you home, alright? Get some rest. You need it.” Frank said kindly.

“Yeah, I feel like I got hit by a bus.” You agreed as he stood.

He reached forward and gently put a hand on top of your head. You smiled slightly as you understood what the gesture meant. He was grateful you were alive. He was grateful you were in his life to begin with, on his side and willing to fight right next to him. But there was also a hint of regret, like he wished you didn’t have to.

Three days later, you were able to go home. During those last few days, you gave your official statement to your bureau and your deposition regarding David’s involvement.

You went with Frank to bring David home. He asked you both to come in but you politely declined. Though as you two were pulling away, Leo came running out. She came straight to your window and knocked on it till you rolled it down. She put the familiar hourglass back in your hand, insisting you keep it for the next person you need to help. She then lifted the cuff of her sleeve to show the red drawing on the top of her wrist while she proudly said she had her own now.

You encouraged her strength and she smiled brightly, waving vigorously as you two left. It was a good thing you did, because you were tearing up at that point as you thought of how you had actually helped her.

Frank stuck around with you at Curtis’ meeting that night. He spoke about the uncertainty of what comes after war and how the silence after the gunfire was hard to live in. You understood that. Fighting beside Daredevil was your own war and once he was gone, it was quiet. Too quiet.

Frank drove you home that night and opened your car door. When you got out, you hugged him tightly. He returned the gesture, though he was more careful of your still lingering injuries.

“You’re gonna be alright, Y/N/N.” He said gently.

“I know.” You sniffled. “I’m just not looking forward to doing it alone.”

“You’re not alone. You got Karen, Nelson, Curtis, that church Murdock went to. People out here, they care about you, right? And you still got me. Anytime you need me, you call me, okay? And I will get my ass over here. I don’t give a damn what Madani or Homeland have to say about it. You got it?”

“Yeah.” You smiled slightly and stepped back. “Thanks, Frank. I know we probably won’t talk much while you’re gone but if you get yourself in trouble, you can call me, too.”

“I know.” He returned the smile. “And here.”

He handed you an envelope.

“You’re giving me money, too?” You joked and he scoffed slightly.

“Cause you need it, right?”

“I do. Rent’s not cheap, even with the billboard… Really, what is it?”

“It’s a letter, smartass. I know it’s hard, losing that one person who meant everything. And it’s not the same but for when you’re down in the dumps and are gonna go off the rails again, read it first.”

“Aw.” You gave a teasing pout. “Punisher’s gone soft.” You poked his stomach a few times while he chuckled.

“Yeah, run of the mill teddy bear over here.” He snorted a laugh. “Take care of yourself, alright? You promise me that?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

[americaarse]

SEVEN - 003

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [5.7k] based on 1x03.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death/grief, creepy older man behavior, pining/unrequited love, assault/mild violence

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ In regards to all published chapters, this one is my favorite.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU PICKED UP THE OBJECT, SLIDING IT TO JOHN B THROUGH THE CRACK IN THE STONE.

“That’s not gold.” Pope spoke despondently with a childish frown.

“Holy shit,” John B spoke, ignoring his friend's sadness. You climbed your way back out of the tomb, dropping next to JJ who helped you dust yourself off as JB continued speaking. “This is from my dad.”

It was a bittersweet moment, hope that maybe this wasn’t all for naught. However, the rev of an engine in the distance made your smiles drop, a golf cart pulling up in the distance. You all began shoving each other out of sight and behind the tomb, panic clearly present.

“John B, your light!”

“Turn your light off.” You all hissed at him, the boy being the only one with his source of light still bright and kicking. From your distance and the lack of daylight, none of you could tell whether it was the square groupers or not, but you all decided to throw all caution to the wind when it looked like the person in the driver’s seat had a gun. 

“Screw this.” Kiara said, getting up and bolting, the rest of you following quickly behind her. You almost knocked one another over trying to jump the fence, everyone making it smoothly besides Pope, who managed to get stuck. By his pants.

In your rush, you all practically ripped the boy off the gate, leaving his pants behind before piling in The Twinkie and speeding off, giggles filling the vehicle. 

“ARE YOU INTENTIONALLY IGNORING THE MOLD ON THAT BREAD?” You questioned, disgust written all over your face as JJ spread peanut butter all over the mold-ridden slice. You were back at the “safety” of The Chateau, waiting for John B to build up the courage to open the package — a large white FedEx envelope, ‘For Bird’ written across it, the nickname his dad had given him. 

“I’ll just pull off the bad parts,” JJ reassured with a shrug, putting the slices together. “Plus, mold is good for you.” You made a sound of disgust before leaving the small kitchen space with the blonde trailing behind you, the two of you stopping behind John B who was seated, looking over his shoulder alongside Kiara and Pope.

Taking a deep breath, he ripped open the package quickly, JJ gagging behind your head after taking a bite of his sandwich, a sass-filled ‘told you’ leaving your lips as your eyes focused on the items John B was pulling out of the parcel.

The first thing was a map — black and white with notes on it. Coordinates, The Lighthouse and The Cut labeled on it, some kind of whirly drawing, and X marked over some area. The next thing was a tape recorder, blue, small and dusty.

John B paused for a moment before pressing play. The mechanism came to life, a static cassette-like sound coming through before a voice was heard.

“...Dear Bird,” The nearly forgotten sound of Big John’s voice filled your ears, just as deep and brassy as you remember, the southern twang in his speech causing a small smile to form. “I hate to say ‘I told you so’ but, I told you so. And you doubted your old man…I suspect at this moment, you’re filled with guilt and self-loathing over our last fight. But don’t kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn’t expect to find The Merchant either.” 

You wondered if you heard that correctly. Big John had actually found The Royal Merchant? Looks were shared amongst the group but nobody said a thing, letting the recording continue.

“You were probably right to call me out. Wasn’t exactly father of the decade. What can I say, kid? I could smell the barn… hopefully we’re listening to this in our brand-new sugar shack down in Costa Rica, livin’ off passive investments and pulling on permits. If not, and you find this for less than optimal reasons, well…that’s what the map is for. There she is, The Wreck of The Merchant. If something happens to me, finish what I started. Go for the gold, kid. I love you, Bird, even if I didn’t always act like it…I’ll see you on the other side.”

And then the tape was ending, leaving you with a million more questions than you all had walked into this with. The house was silent, you all silently anticipating what John B was going to say or do. If he was going to cry or scream.

You sighed when the boy got up, chair scooting harshly across the floor as tears became evident in his waterline as he turned around and practically collapsed against the wall, sobbing. Hugging the structure as he slid down slowly, unable to fully hold himself up.

Kie was the first and only one to walk over to him, laying her head of curls against his shoulder blade in comfort.

“HOW MUCH WAS IT AGAIN?” JJ quizzed, the group of you sitting on the dock outside The Chateau in the middle of the night, nothing visible for miles. Just the stars in the sky and the sound of cicadas.

“Four hundred mil’.” Pope answered, staring out into the distance as he sat on the rail. 

“All right, let’s talk the split.” JJ started. “Now, before you say evenly, may I remind you that I am the only that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us?” He tried, whirling the gun around his finger. “Protection? Not cheap.”

“You’ve done zero training.” Pope reminded him as you taught Kiara chords on her ukelele and John B sipped mindlessly on a beer, paying no mind to the four of you.

“Youtube, bro!” JJ argued back. “That’s at least a five percent bump right there.” 

All you could do was roll your eyes, Kiara’s strumming ceasing as she turned to Pope. “What’re you gonna do with your share, Pope?”

“...Pay for college in advance.” He nodded his head as he spoke with conviction, staring down at his knees. “And also textbooks. Those are expensive.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. You wondered what Pope was gonna do when he realized that school will come to an end one day. “What about you, Kie?”

“Yeah, what does a socialist do when she’s rich?” JJ poked.

“Just…wanna make a double album.” She shrugged cutely, a small smile playing on her lips. “‘Bout OBX, the pogues. Y’know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston. Record it at Marley Studio, Peter Tosh producing…”

You could help but make a face, turning to the girl next to you. “Peter Tosh is-”

“Peter Tosh is dead, I know. The Spirit of Peter Tosh will never die.” She spoke optimistically. “And what about you, huh?” She nudged your shoulder playfully. “Got any big plans for your cut?”

You stared up at the sky, a look of thoughtfulness on your face as you bit the inside of your cheek. “Travel.” You said simply, looking back at the friends around you. “With Marley, of course. Paris, Italy, Thailand, Japan… Oh! Bora Bora…” You spoke dreamingly. “I’d send you all postcards and, like, candy and shit from each place. I’d come back home every now and then, though.”

“You’d take the dog with you?” JJ questioned.

“Um, yes,” you answered like it was the easiest thing in the world. “...Marley and my guitar are the only things I really have left of my dad, everything else is memories and pictures, and I think taking Marley with me would be like taking him too, in a way. He always wanted to travel, anyway. Just never had enough money and too scared of planes. So, I hope the airlines are okay with me booking a first-class seat for a 65 pound Golden Retriever.” You chuckled. 

“I know what I’m gonna do.” JJ shrugged nonchalantly.

“And what’s that, blondie?” You whipped your head towards him, kicking your feet against the wood.

“I’m gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full Kook. Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and then I’m gonna get a koi pond.” You and Kie couldn’t help but share a look, bursting out into giggles.

“I’m never visiting.” She said through her fit of giggles, JJ simply shrugging at her statement and throwing a piece of grass he'd been rolling into a ball at you. 

“What’re you gonna do, JB?” Pope asked the boy who hadn’t spoken in almost an hour. You all anticipated his response, not even knowing if he would respond.

He simply smiled smally, not making any moves to look at you all. “...To going full Kook.”

IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND YOU HAD ALL ALREADY BOARDED THE HMS POGUE, A DAY OF SUNLIGHT NEVER WASTED. JJ whistled, lowering his shades and eyeing the boat coming towards you all and heading in the opposite direction. “You guys see that? That’s the Malibu 24-MXZ, the world's finest wakesetter. Number one in luxury, quality, and performance.” You liked seeing this “nerd” side of JJ — the one who knew heaps of information about bikes and cars and boats. 

“I hate to break it to you guys but that’s Topper and his girlfriend.” Kie spoke nastily, eyeing the couple coming into clear view next to the five of you. The two blondes eyed the group of you down without shame, even behind their blacked out sunglasses you could tell.

Sarah lifted the aforementioned shades from her face, giving you all a distasteful glance, eyes lingering on you and Kie before averting her gaze back in front of her.

“You don’t have to act like you don’t see us, bitch.” Kie spoke, not yelling but loud enough for the couple to hear if they hadn’t sped past you all. 

“Did you see the way Topper was clinging onto her?” You snarled, the statement directed more at Kie than anyone else. “I’d take more pride in the boat than her, if I were him. She’s probably already onto the next guy and he has no idea.” You concluded, sipping on your ice cold beer.

“SWEET LORD, THE INTERNET!” Pope practically cheered as the group of you ran into the study room of the Kook hotel that you were pretty sure you’d just snuck into. He ran to the computer, pulling out the map from John B’s backpack and wasting no time entering them into some website he was using, Earth Search. Lord knows how he found it but it was Pope you were talking about.

“34°57’30” north. 75°55’42” west…” He muttered, fingers going a mile a minute across the keyboard. 

“The continental shelf?” John B queried over the boy’s shoulder. 

“That’s off the deep end…” You pointed out, leaning over Pope’s other shoulder. The website continued zooming in on the destination, footsteps and voices outside of the closed door had all of your hearts pounding as you waited.

“It’s on the high side. That’s only 900 feet.” John B added after it had expanded enough.

“Only?” You questioned, eyeing him with a look that said ‘are you crazy?’.

“C’mon, that’s do-able.” JJ spoke up from behind all three of you. You turned to him with the same expression, standing up slightly from your bent over position and planting a hand on your hip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Aquaman. Do you plan on guiding us down there?” You retorted.

“Will we be taking your personal submarine?” Pope backed up.

“Ha ha.” The blonde shot back at you both, grimacing. “No, smartasses. The salvage yard has a drone that can drop one-thousand. Three-sixty camera and everything. It’s exactly what we need.”

“Aaand can your dad get his grimy little hands on that?” John B asked.

“My dad’s grimy little hands are what got his ass fired. But the drone’s in the impound yard in the back.” Sly, hopeful smirks were shared amongst you all before you shot up, gathering everything and rushing towards the door, Pope at the end of the line shaking his head.

“Can’t we do anything legal for money?”

“WHY DO WE HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN?” You asked from the back of the van that had just arrived at the impound lot.

“Because, you’re two hot teenage girls that have the power to entice the middle-aged man at the front gate.” John B told you bluntly. You curled your lip at his statement.

“That wasn’t creepy or mildly perverted at all… Let me out.” You demanded, JJ sliding open the van door to let you as Kie hopped out of the passenger seat. 

The two of you walked the short distance to the truck you’d be driving around the corner to the impound lot, Kie swinging the keys around her finger.

“We got this?”

“Hell yeah.” You smiled, giving your best friend a low high-five and hopping into the vehicle, engine starting as she twisted the key.

It was less than two minutes before you pulled up the gate, spotting the man inside of the booth to the left. You both got out of the truck, waving your hands to gather the man’s attention.

“Hello?” Kie called. “Excuse me?” The man’s attention was diverted from whatever he was reading, your presence prompting him to get up and out of his seat, leaving the tiny building to approach the gate from the other side, a stoic expression on his face.

“Can I help you ladies?”

“Hi,” You flashed a bright smile, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your shorts. “We have a flat tire.” You pouted, not missing the way his eyes roamed your frame for the briefest of moments. “We were wondering if you could help us out?”

The security guard looked around for a moment, as if maybe this was something he wasn’t supposed to be doing before nodding. “Yeah.” A mischievous smirk spread across his face.

“Yeah?” You reiterated cutely as he retreated back into his booth to open the gate. You turned to Kiara with a knowing look on your face, a playful side eye.

“How do you do that?” She asked with a small chuckle. You simply shrugged. 

“It’s all in the eyes.” You taunted, watching as the man returned. Leading him to the back of the truck, Kiara gave the guys, who’d been hiding, the signal to go.

“It’s this back one. Must’ve been a leak or something.” You gathered the older man’s attention, attempting to keep it on the truck for as long as possible.

“Probably just been sitting in the yard too long?”

“Yeah…” Kie cutely replied. 

“I got this.” The guard replied, trying to seem all macho and manly. You watched as the three boys slipped their way into the gate. It was silent for a few moments as he worked on the tire and you and Kie tried to keep a non-suspicious look out.

Minutes passed before a dog’s bark was heard, loud and incessant. The security guard paused in his movements.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what?” You and Kiara said simultaneously, trying your best to act unbothered.

“Tebow’s got something…” He pondered aloud. 

“Y’know how dogs are,” You scoffed with an awkward smile, trying to dismiss his concern. “He’s probably... terrorizing a squirrel or somethin’.” You offered.

“...Yeah, yeah.” It seemed to be a good enough answer as the man got back to working on the car. Suddenly, Kie was discreetly leaving your side and going to the other side of the truck, you questioned what she was up to before you heard the low hiss of air leaving a tire.

The guard must’ve heard it, too, his movements ceasing again before looking up. “Hey, where’d your friend go?”

“She, uh, had to pee really quick.” You tried to dismiss his concern carelessly.

“...There’s no bathroom out here.” He spoke, standing up to his full height now, equipment in hand. 

“Y’know, how it is,” You chuckled nervously under your breath , shoulders square as you became visibly tense and tried to side-step and block his path. “When a girl’s gotta go…”

He didn’t say anything back, quickly walking past you in wide strides to the other side of the truck, catching Kiara releasing air from another tire. “What’re you doing?!” She stuttered to find words before the man was dropping the equipment and running into the impound lot.

Your hands gripped your hair. “Shit.” You cursed, scurrying to get back into the truck with Kie. There was nothing you could do to aid the boys now. You could only hope they had enough time to grab the gear and go as you and Kie sped off.

AFTER REUNITING WITH GUYS, who had successfully stolen the drone, Kie offered to feed everyone down at The Wreck. The sun had gone and it was nightfall, the diner lit up dimly by the time you’d all arrived in The Twinkie.

“What I would do with a beer and shrimp 'n grits right now…” JJ longed, hopping out of the door.

“Amen.” You agreed. “The crimes I would commit for a single fry right now are horrendous.” None of you anticipated how hungry stealing drones, flirting with creeps, and running from dogs would make you. 

Upon entering The Wreck, you were met with shadowy lights and a few leaving guests, the restaurant close to its closing time. The boys ventured off into the seating area while you and Kie stuck around to greet her father. 

“Hey, Mr. C.” You smiled, greeting the older man with a hug. 

“Heyy, kid. It’s been a while. It’s good to see you smilin’.” He greeted back enthusiastically, patting a fatherly hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, dad.” The girl hugged her father. “How’d we do?”

The older man sighed, shaking his head and drawing his lips into a thin line. “Didn’t turn it over once.” You and Kie shared a look of pity for him, small frowns on each of your faces.

“It’s probably just bad luck because of the storm.” The brown-haired girl tried to reassure her father. 

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell the banks that.” He grimaced.

“Guess now is not the best time to ask for free food for me and my friends?” She attempted sheepishly, peering back at the three boys eyeing the food like shelter dogs. 

Her father’s demeanor did a complete one-eighty. “Look at them,” He started, eyeing the trio of boys with disgust. “They’re greedy pelicans. I told you to stop hanging out with them.” He told his daughter, eyes drifting to you. “The both of you...” He added.

You hated the way Mr. C spoke of the guys. They were your best friends and he, himself, used to live on The Cut. He talked about them like a purebred Kook, like someone who has never known poverty. Sometimes, you thought he held a grudge against you for bringing Kiara into your friend group with them. But you’ve known her just as long as them. 

“Everybody at the Kook academy hates us, Dad.” She protested, shifting her weight and rolling her eyes.

“‘Cause you never gave them a chance.”

“We did give them a chance.” She argued back for the both of you, knowing you weren’t likely to step in against her own father. “They got all stuck up on us. They care more about shoes and coke than anything else, I mean, what’re we supposed to do with that?”. All the man could do was sigh, Kiara looking back and JJ, John B, and Pope pitifully. “Those are our friends.”

“Look…I gotta throw it out anyway, might as well take it.” He caved. Bright smiles broke out on both of your faces, the two of you encasing the man in a bear hug before releasing him and turning back to the three boys who were patiently waiting.

“Sit down.” Kie said, the guys cheering and pulling out seats. It wasn’t long before Mr. C brought the food out — french fries, crab legs, soda, chips.

The guys ate like they’d never eaten before. Maybe they really were hungry pelicans.

The Wreck had closed by the time you guys started eating though, allowing you to play music on the eatery speakers while you ate.

At some point Kie, who’d been dancing by herself, invited John B to get up and dance with her, the brunette accepting the invite. However, one absentminded glance to your left had you watching Pope, who was watching them. He looked sad.

You never thought about that — Pope having a thing for Kie. You couldn’t really picture that in your head but you still felt bad.

In a group of three guys and two girls, someone is bound to catch feelings for someone. 

Breaking your gaze on Pope, you looked around to find JJ staring at you. You flashed him a smile and tossed a fry at him to which he caught in his mouth, you both bursting out with laughter.

THE FIVE OF YOU WASTED NO DAYLIGHT THE NEXT MORNING, testing out the gear the second the sun reached its peak. Kie and JB were under the water helping to test out the quality of the camera, both of their faces seen on the pixelated screen.

“God bless geeks, Pope. Truly.” JJ spoke over the boy's shoulder. You were sitting on the wooden railing, legs swinging and adorned in nothing but your bikini. “What would we do without you to control the drones?”

“Technically, it’s not a drone, it’s an ROV-”

“Shut up. Shut. Up. It’s too early for that right now.” You chuckled under your breath at JJ's dismissal, you wondered if JJ and Pope ever got tired of bickering. They were like brothers or an old married couple, either or. Just then, the pair in the water came up for air, John B shaking the water from his hair and being the first to speak.

“Hey, once we get footage of the wreck, we’ll bring it to a lawyer in town and file a formal claim.” He threw out. “We can go through your mom.” He directed the statement at you.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, even if they were squinted from the sun beaming in them. “I wouldn’t trust my mom to help us. It’s like she’s been in cahoots with Shoupe ever since we moved to Figure Eight and everyone knows he really works for Ward.”

“Why would we have to do all of that anyway?” JJ asked the boy in the water.

“There is a maritime salvage law.” Pope cut in. “You can’t just go to the ocean floor and scoop a bunch of stuff up.” You’d been examining the equipment while they talked amongst themselves. Noticing something before speaking up.

“The tether on the ROV is really long. In the wrong kind of weather, it could get pushed around.” You said, turning to face them. “We should go at dead calm. It’s our best option.” 

“And today is not that day.” Pope said, eyeing the sky that was turning a dangerous shade of gray in the distance, a storm brewing. 

“YOU THREE GET THESE GROCERIES TO FIGURE EIGHT. GET STRAIGHT BACK HERE WHEN YOU DONE.” Heyward told you, JJ, and Pope. “I promised delivery by this afternoon.”

He handed JJ the last of the groceries, the blonde piling them onto the platform in the middle of the boat before Pope got the engine going. Heyward’s boat moved faster than the HMS Pogue, you were on Figure Eight territory within minutes, the boys eyeing the properties and estates like puppies.

“It doesn’t even look like the storm hit here…” Pope said, astounded, staring down one of the bigger houses. He had a point, the house looked like the storm purposely moved out of its way.

“It’s ‘cause they got generators, bro.” JJ began, his disdain for Kooks peeking through in his tone. “And then they say the juice will be out all summer at The Cut.”

“It must be nice to be a Kook.”

“Lucky bastards.” JJ shook his head, you simply ignored them. They weren’t wrong and technically, you were now a Kook yourself so you had nothing to add.

Financially, you were a Kook. But you’d always be a pogue at heart. 

“Isn’t that your place?” Pope pointed out, speaking to you. Your house was coming into view up ahead.

JJ whistled at it — the exterior was polished, the yard was kept, the trees were trimmed, no weeds or overgrown plants obstructing the view of the home. Your house wasn’t as old as most on Figure Eight, it has only just been built when your mom bought it a few months back. You could even see Marley running a muck in the yard from the boat.

“Look at that beauty. Must be nice going home to that every night, huh?” JJ poked.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the blonde. “You’d be surprised.”

YOU WERE ON YOUR LAST DELIVERY OF THE DAY,  the three of you had split up to get the last of the orders done quicker. You and JJ had completed yours but Pope had to go through the golfing trail behind the Country Club, so you’d figured he hadn’t finished yet and you both decided to go after him.

“You can’t seriously tell me that you don’t like living on this side of the island.” JJ kept nagging about how much life had changed for you. You wished he would drop it.

“It’s not Figure Eight that I hate, JJ. It’s the people. I don’t know them and they’re all assholes.” You started, walking alongside the blonde, watching the Country Club members golf. “I’d feel safer taking a walk on The Cut at night than I would here. Might get jumped by some coked up college kids.”

“Meh.” He started. “I wouldn’t let that happen. And if it did, y’know we’d find those guys and kill ‘em. Rocky Balboa style.” He joked, throwing air punches and making sounds that made you laugh. 

“What the hell?”

You heard someone exclaim in the distance, you and JJ sharing a look as your laughter died and you slowed in your steps. The voice sounded eerily like Pope.

“You owe me for that!”

The pair of you started sprinting, arriving just in time to catch Topper swing Pope to the ground after snatching the beers he was supposed to be delivering out of his hands. Pope was shoeless and his hat had come off, sand and blood littering his face.

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not even taking into account Rafe’s presence at the moment. 

“Hey, hey!” JJ shouted, running over to Topper and snatching him up by his collar. You didn’t know what was happening, all you know was that all of a sudden, Pope was charging at Rafe who was quick to whack him in the stomach with his golf club before hitting him over the back with it.

The sound of metal hitting his spine caused you to flinch. “Stay down, bitch!” Rafe screamed. You stood frozen in place, a fear you’ve never felt before. But you knew why. You were hoping, praying, pleading that he wouldn’t notice you were standing there. That he’d be too caught up in his own rage to see you.

Topper had managed to push JJ off of him in an effort to calm Rafe. You took the opportunity, with Rafe’s eyes on Topper, to try and aid your beaten friend. You kneeled next to him as JJ stood angrily off to the side, probably making sure Rafe wouldn’t try to pull anything else. 

“Pope…” You muttered, voice laced with concern as you examined his face — blood between his teeth and sand in his eyes.

Your hair was shielding your face slightly from Rafe’s view, you were sure. “Hey, no, don’t help him,” He started, raving and ranting. “I said don’t fucking help him!”

Breaking past Topper’s defense, the man stomped toward you before kicking you over, a grunt falling from your lips. With you now laying in the sand on your back, clutching your side in pain, he could see your face clearly with your hair splayed around you, no longer obstructing his view.

“Leave them alone!” JJ tried, but Rafe was quick to swing the club in his direction as Topper stood anxiously behind him, but his eyes were still on you. You hadn’t seen him in months, the same goes for him to you. All he did was chuckle, a laugh with no amusement behind it as he crouched down above you. 

Even while you were in pain, you managed to glare at him, a mean snarl on your lips as you tried to control your breathing but every intake of air hurt. “Where you been hidin’, sunshine?” He spoke softly but so menacingly. When his finger trailed across your bottom lip, you used whatever energy you had left to bite down on the digit. Hard. “Ah- fuck! You stupid bitch! I’ll-” He lifted the club up, preparing to slam it back down until Topper gripped his shoulder.

“They got it, man! Let’s just go.” He urged, Rafe eyeing your figure on the ground, breathing heavily like a bull. His eyes then scanned JJ and Pope before he spoke.

“We don’t want you over here, you got that?” He warned angrily, eyes landing on you once more. “Any of you.” That was all he wrote before Topper was pulling him away from the scene, the two boys disappearing. 

Your mind was racing a mile a minute, probably faster. You rolled over, ignoring the searing pain in your side as you pushed yourself up. You felt a hand on your arm , trying to help you but for some reason...it just made you angry.

“I got it.” You strained out.

“Let me help you-” JJ tried.

“I don't need your help, JJ!” Then his hand was reluctantly leaving your arm and offering it to Pope who brushed him off in a less aggressive manner as you stood to your full height, a slight limp as you began walking away.

The walk back to the boat was silent — suffocatingly so. Nobody said anything when you boarded, or when Pope got the engine running, or when you passed all the houses on Figure Eight. 

You didn’t expect JJ to sit next to you, especially after yelling at him. “Listen, I don’t know what happened out there, alright? And maybe you’ll tell me or maybe you won’t but I mean seriously, are you guys just gonna let them get away with that?” He scoffed angrily.

“What’re we supposed to do?” Pope shot back.

“I don’t know, something, man! Anything!”

“...Turn the boat around.” You spoke up from where you were sitting, an idea sparking in your rage-filled mind.

“AND WHY NOT RAFE’S BOAT?” JJ spoke up from your place across the water, eyeing down Topper’s brand-new boat.

“Because,” You started, stripping down to your bikini. “Rafe doesn’t have boats. They all belong to Ward. This? This is Topper’s personal possession. So, we go for him.”

The answer seemed satisfactory enough for the blonde as Pope also took off his shirt. “They hit us, we hit them.” He said before turning to you specifically. “I know you’re a swimmer-slash-diver and all but I don’t think you should be swimming in your...condition.” He warned, eyeing the large bruise blooming along your side.

“I’ll be fine.” Was the last thing you said before jumping into the water, Pope splashing in close behind you. You both swam your way over to the speed-boat, jumping onto it. It took seconds for Pope to release the seal that kept the boat from sinking, water bubbling into the base of the wakesetter as you threw your fist against the windshield, effectively cracking the glass.

The pair of you dove back into the water, making your way back to a bandana and sunglasses clad JJ who was waiting. Climbing back on to the boat, Pope handed JJ the plug to which he chucked farther into the ocean.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Pope spoke breathlessly, watering dripping down his frame.

“I won’t, dude-” JJ assured

“No, not anyone. Not Kie, not John B, nobody, got it?”

“Got it.”

NIGHT HAD FALLEN ONCE AGAIN. It was like it never ended as of recently. You were all back at The Chateau, the events of earlier still fresh on your mind and the ache in your side still throbbing to remind you.

“You really think it’s out there?” Pope asked JB. The boy simply shrugged in response.

“My father thought it was.” 

“...But do you?” Pope reiterated. The sound of crickets and cicadas filled the silence as you all waited for him to answer, thunder rumbling in the distance.

“After hearing his voice on that tape? I think I do.”

 “We’re gonna find it.” Kie reassured.

JJ yawned, stretching on the hammock you two were sharing with Kie as Pope and JB shared the other. You and JJ were squished on one end with her on the other. “I’m gonna dream about shipwrecks.” He spoke through his exhaustion, his arm somehow landing behind your neck and curling it towards him, effectively shoving your face into his neck. “And I’m taking this one with me.”

“JJ!” You muttered against his skin as they all laughed. "Let go of me, Maybank!" Your muffled voice came through as you struggled to push the blonde away.

“Shh, just let it happen.”

IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND YOU WERE STILL HALF-SLEEP BY THE TIME YOU’D BOARDED THE BOAT. John B wanted to get a head start on this whole ‘X marks the spot’ thing and you’d reached the spot where the Royal Merchant was allegedly sunk by noon. 

“Alright, ladies and gentleman,” The brunette spoke, far too chipper for how early it was. “To going full Kook!” He cheered as he and Kiara lowered the ROV into the water slowly. They fed the cord down inch by inch, monitoring everything and JJ steered the boat.

“Alright, JJ we’re right over it!” JB called out. “Ten seconds northwest!”

“Ten seconds northwest, got it.”

You were leaning against the side of the boat, watching the screen with Pope as you struggled to keep your eyes open. The morning breeze hit you every now and then, in nothing but your bathing suit and a large shirt, a lazy attempt to avoid questions about what happened to your side until you could come up with an excuse that your friends would believe.

When Kie was about 400 feet of rope deep, thunder rumbled in the sky, causing your eyes to examine the ocean. “The tide’s turning.” You warned tiredly, perking up slightly at the change of events. John B directed JJ to change the direction of the boat, over and over again until they got it right.

The storm was getting scarily close, so close you could see it building in the distance. It suddenly got strong, pushing the boat back by at least a couple of feet. It became a frantic fight against the storm, with Kiara warning John B that they may lose the ROV and John B instructing JJ on how to navigate the boat while you and Pope kept an eye on the visuals.

Kiara was at 950 feet and you and Pope still couldn’t see anything, even when JJ managed to steady the boat once again.

“Okay, we’re on the floor.” You announced, signaling to Kie that she could stop feeding the rope. 

“You should be seeing something-”

…

“You see anything?!” JJ called from behind the wheel, the four of you staring at the screen in disbelief and relief.

“It’s The Royal Merchant.” John B said as you all watched the ship come into view, clear as day.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @liability28 @rivaiken (striked means i'm unable to tag you!)

©loveharlow.

[americaarse]

IRONDAD & SPIDER-SON WHUMP MASTERLIST—PART 1

Last Updated: September 2023

As promised, here is my long overdue Irondad Whump Masterlist! This list took an embarrassing amount of time to compile and over forty pages in my Google Docs (!!!!!).

Due to the sheer amount of fics, I will be posting in parts. Within these posts, each fic will categorized by its most prevalent trope/theme.

I hope the work from these talented contributors brings as much whumpy joy to you as they do to me!

Also, a very special shoutout to my most treasured Irondad authors iron_spider, for_the_night, madasthesea, losingmymindtonight, AdVitemAeternum, MotherKarizma, and so many more! This post is dedicated to you. ♡ 

Adoption/Tony Stark is Peter Parker’s Biological Father

5 Times Tony Acted Like Peter’s Dad by for_the_night

Summary: “And the one time he actually was." *Featuring an award evening, nightmares, a father-son field trip, appendicitis, and a very special gift—oh, and SO many forehead kisses.*

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

Summary: “‘...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15-year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…’ Statistically, there are a lot of 15-year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15-year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager. But Peter is not picking up his phone.”

Dad Is Just A Word (You Give It Meaning) by madasthesea

Summary: “Father's Day, two years after May dies. Peter has something special to give and something important to say.”

For Want of a Dad (In Need of a Son) by GhostInTheBAU

Summary: “So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?’ Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject.  He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks.  The trip is during spring break—a four-day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors. But the real kicker?  It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be. Not again." Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement. Because of Spider-Man.

Homebound by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “Shortly after Homecoming, Peter starts having panic attacks. Tony happens to have some experience with those. What do you do when everyone around you has a tendency to die? What do you do when the last person, the most precious, the one you absolutely cannot lose, maybe wants you? Do you give in, or do you run? Do you take what they offer, or do you keep them as far away from the disaster that is your life as you can?”

I Love You More Than Anything Series by iron_spider

Summary: “The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31—from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos”

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley

Summary: “So much changed with Peter’s body chemistry after the bite that new things are still coming up that surprise him. One day he and Tony are having a fight and Peter is so stressed out he ends up having a seizure. Seizures… great, so that’s a thing now, and Tony has decided that the best thing is for Peter to stop being Spider-Man. The more the seizures happen, the more protective Tony becomes. All Peter wants is to have his life back." Or: May asks Tony to take joint custody of Peter to help with the Spider-Man thing and this new stress seizure issue. Peter learns that sometimes parents do what’s necessary even if it’s not a popular choice with their kids.

Questions of Science, Science and Progress (Do Not Speak As Loud As My Heart) by l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r

Summary: “I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart." Or: Peter stays with Tony for a few weeks, and the pair get into all kinds of shenanigans. And maybe, just maybe, those few weeks will usher in something more.

These Days I’ll Sit On Cornerstones by Finny3120

Summary: “Tony was ill-prepared to find that the vigilante he'd recruited was a 14-year-old boy. He was even less prepared for Peter Parker to be mute. But Peter hasn't spoken since his uncle died. And the more Tony works with the teen, the less it matters to him. He hears Peter just fine.” 

You’re Stuck With Me by for_the_night

Summary: “I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.’ Peter gaped. Of all of the entrances he’d expected from Mister Stark after being alone in a hospital room for hours, that wasn’t one of them." Or: Peter gets taken to hospital with a ruptured appendix and Tony comes to a daunting realization of just how little hold he has on the kid outside of Medbay.

Alternate Universe

My Baby, My Baby by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Summary: “Silence falls over them like a warm blanket. Distantly, there’s commotion down on the street as people walk home from clubs. Peter thinks Tony might be his best friend in the whole world. After a long, peaceful moment, Tony says, voice dripping with warmth, ‘Night, kid.’  ‘Goodnight, Mr. Stark." Or: Tony and Peter in the middle of the night, in five alternate universes.

Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara)

Summary: “Boss?’ Tony jolted out of his half-asleep state. ‘What’s up, FRI?’ ‘There is a visitor here to see you.’ Tony jumped up. Anyone he knew would usually call or text first, so he was immediately on alert.   ‘Who is it, FRI?’ ‘I need you to have an open mind, and know that I do not believe this person is any threat.’ Oh, yeah, that made him feel better.  ‘Excuse me? How about you let me decide that, Watson?’ He started walking towards the door, activating his watch gauntlet.   ‘Wait, Boss.’ He was annoyed, but he trusted his AI enough to stop and listen. ‘I also need you to know that I have performed biometric scanning, and this person is who they appear to be. However, they insist they’re not from our universe, and that is the part I don’t understand." — In a universe where he never invented time travel, and never brought anyone back, Tony Stark gets a late-night visitor he never could have expected. Prompt taken from @idk-bruh-20 Irondad fic idea #97 on Tumblr. Idea from @derpmallow.

What The Heart Knows by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “When Peter wakes up, his head is being assaulted by a sledgehammer. He has no idea where he is. He has no idea what happened to him. He has no idea who he is, other than ‘Peter.’ But then, he looks over at the man who is scrutinizing him with worried eyes, and he knows who the man is. That's his dad." Or: The one where Peter gets hit over the head really, really hard and has temporary amnesia, and makes a very reasonable assumption based on the data presented to him.

Angst

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

Summary: “He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy. Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root. I love him.”

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Summary: “Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.”

Agape by canon irondad (tomlinsoul)

Summary: “It's Tony's first date night with Pepper since the Snap, and Peter can't wait to spend some quality time with his little sister. Too bad a pair of hapless intruders, head trauma, and a panicked helicopter ride throw a spanner in the works." Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Head Trauma + Day 7: Seizures + Day 19: Repeatedly Passing Out + BTHB: Big Brother Instinct

Broken Heart Syndrome by iron_spider

Summary: “Tony is clearly really upset, the kind of upset that Peter’s only seen the likes of a couple of times, and it’s too close after everything happening to really talk about it. He can definitely see that now.  ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter says. ‘I’m sorry, I should have answered—’ ‘Yeah, you should have answered!’ Tony yells. His bottom lip is trembling and he shakes his head, his eyes wild. He runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll know for next time,’ Peter says. He doesn’t know what’s gonna make this better. Probably nothing. ‘There better not be a next time,’ Tony says, dropping his hand from his face. ‘God, like this? Pete, no one knew where he was but you, and you—you kept it that way so nobody knew what the hell was happening, and you—you weren’t answering, kid, and that asshole sent me all that shit plucked directly from my nightmares, and I was trying to be strong for May because she was worried, too, and you—and you, I—I thought I wasn’t gonna ever—I thought—Jesus, Peter, you don’t think, you don’t—’ Tony bends over, clutching at his arm and breathing hard through his mouth.”

Dead In There, You’re Dead In There by iron_spider

Summary: “Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.’ Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all. ‘You’ll fix it,’ Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. ‘Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—’ Tony starts forward towards him. ‘Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.’ ‘The protocol, the protocol,’ Peter insists, waving his hands through the air. Tony shakes his head. ‘The protocol?’ ‘The Avalon Protocol, Tony,’ Peter spits out, with venom.”

Dead-Eyed by iron_spider

Summary: “Hey,’ Tony says, fast, into the phone. ‘Everything alr—’ ‘Hey, no, I don’t know where he is,’ MJ says, in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony, and I know I have access to that tracking thing, but it feels weird for me to do that, and it doesn’t feel weird for you to do that, so you should do that. And find him and tell me what’s going on.’ ‘Okay, calm down,’ Tony says, getting up and stepping back from his workstation. ‘You know you can’t tell me to calm down, because I’m calm, and I’m always calmer than you because you’re like, inherently, not calm. At all, about anything, but especially about your family—’ ‘Okay, this is not calm,’ Tony says, starting to pace, even though he’s not calm either, she’s right. She sighs loudly in his ear. ‘When was the last time you saw him?”

Earthly Dust From Off Thee Shaken by ExpectoPatronum

Summary: “It had started with leaving his bedroom light on at night before he went to sleep. For a while, that had been enough. But then it wasn't.”

“Forever” by WithACherryOnTop

Summary: “Peter could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, like it had only moments earlier in the Avengers Compound bullpen. ‘‘ony.’ ‘Just go to sleep, bud.’ Tony gently scratched his nails at the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter collapsed bonelessly in Tony’s arms, all evidence of the tears, crying, and sobs hidden except for a stained shirt and the boy’s even, congested breaths. Tony wiped a hand over his face, a bit flustered. ‘Wow. That went way worse than I expected." Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and/or Sony. I do not give permission for this work to be copied and/or posted to any other sites.

Gonna Pick Up The Pieces by orphan_account

Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you,’ Peter says. He’s been hiding for the better part of an hour, sitting in the cabin’s laundry room, wedged between the washer and the dryer. Something about the sounds coming off of them calms him, weirdly. The swish of water, the rumble of the motors, cotton rubbing cotton, the button on a pair of jeans dinging the side of the barrel.  ‘That’s bullshit,’ Tony says. ‘You always want to talk to me.’ As true as that usually is, this time it rings discordant and tense. Peter clenches his jaw. ‘Not really,’ he says. ‘You just sorta assume that.’ ‘Of course I do. I make for lovely conversation.’ ‘Eh.”

Head’s On The Fritz by augustheart

Summary: "Hello?’ ‘Tony?’ ‘The one and only. What’s up, kiddo?’ The answer rises up in Peter's throat. Stops at the back of his tongue and wobbles there, heavy and leaden. He wants to spit it out, to cough it into the unbearable silence, to not be loud—but, to be steady. ‘I—’ he says. He trembles. ‘Can you—come over? Please?" Or: Tony makes things better

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.”

I Have You by sweetspiderstew

Summary: “Tony has Peter all to himself, and there's nothing else like some good quality time in the workshop, but little mishaps happen, and there's a lot of hugging.”

I’ll Be Right Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter has a nightmare, and Tony goes to be sure he’s okay. It’s not the first one of its kind.” 

It Came At Night by Marvelous_Writer

Summary: “What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up." (Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming) Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

It’s Time to Leave (and Turn to Dust) by hopeless_hope

Summary: "We’re going to help you, I promise, but you’ve got to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Peter looks at his mentor, fear written across his face. He raises a shaking hand back to Tony’s chest, and Tony places his hand over the kid’s. Peter closes his eyes and feels the hard surface of the arc reactor against his palm.  Peter doesn’t like soft things, but this isn’t soft. It’s solid and steady and strong and feels like a truth he can believe in. It feels like presence.  ‘Yeah, I trust you." (In which Peter has trouble coping with the events of Infinity War, but a certain Tony Stark is there to help.)

Meltdown by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary: “You said two-thirty,’ Peter said, acting as if he hadn’t heard Tony. ‘I forgot that you changed it to two thirty and not three.’ Tony took a step towards Peter. ‘Hey, Pete. It’s fine. You’re not that late kiddo. Hell, I’ve been to board meetings hours late.’ The joke didn’t land, and Peter’s eyes started to well with tears. He took in a hiccupping breath. ‘Oh god. I forgot. I forgot." Or: Peter isn't coping after Titan and has been doing everything to keep busy and not think about it. Everything comes to head when he forgets that a time was changed in his busy schedule leading to a meltdown.

Mine, And Yours by crowkag

Summary: “Is it Peter?’ He was met with loaded silence. The anxiety spark became an anxiety plunge and twist. ‘Happy. Is it Peter?’ ‘It’s… well. Who else would it be, right?’ ‘Hogan.’ He hated this. The spark, the plunge, the twist. The tension creeping from his shoulder blades, clawing down arms both flesh and metal, somehow, someway, and bunching up inside his palms. The hysteria of it all. ‘It’s—alright, I won’t sugarcoat it. The kid’s alive, but he got shot, Tony. Twice." Or: Tony reunites with Peter in a less-than-ideal manner.

Relax, Just Breathe by hailfire_73

Summary: “Tony,’ said Peter, lifting his head from the glass, his stubbornness spent. ‘I don’t feel so—’ ‘Do not,’ said Tony, through gritted teeth, and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He had just one hand on the steering wheel as he drove them into the night. ‘Finish that sentence.’ Morgan leaned over, hung out of her booster seat, and whispered, ‘It gives dad attacks." Or: The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Scars Can Heal And Reveal Just Where You Are by parkrstark

Summary: “Jesus Christ, Pete,’ the voice says again, and it's not just a voice. It's a voice that belongs to the shadow. The shadow is light in the dark. It's warm. ‘What are you doing on the floor? You're lucky you're by your bed or else it would have been you breaking my fall.’ Peter blinks at the shadow and can't tell if he's comforted or irritated by the new company. ‘What? No quip about me breaking a hip?’ There's silence. ‘Peter?" 

Shots Ring Out by itsluckyyou

Summary: “Peter Parker had training. Training to deal with robbers, petty crime, and possible alien invasions. Nothing could have possibly trained him for this, though." Or: There's a shooter wandering the halls of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The Pills (They Gotta Go) by searchingforstars

Summary: “Tony. What are these?’ Tony glances up. Sees the packs of pills clenched in Peter’s fist. He’s sure some of them must be dust judging by the force that Peter is holding them with. ‘My pills?’ ‘Why are they sitting at the back of the pantry?’ Peter asks, voice dangerously low." Or: Tony decides taking his medication is optional. Peter strongly disagrees.

We All Have A Hunger by MotherKarizma

Summary: “Morgan,’ he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’m just…’ ‘You’re sick.’ She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. ‘I’ll get Daddy!’ ‘No!’ Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five-year-old. ‘No, you don’t have to. I feel better  now. You don’t have to tell him.’ Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. ‘Petey…’ Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop. But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: ‘Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?’ ‘But…’ ‘Morgan. Promise.”

We’re Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Comfortember prompt 3: Nightmares Peter has nightmares about when Thanos stabbed Tony on Titan”

Who Needs a Happy New Year When You Can Have a Happy Forever? by searchingforstars

Summary: “Peter's already feeling insecure about his place in Stark family holiday traditions, but it turns out it doesn't really matter because New Year’s Eve is significantly less fun when you’re a pair of PTSD-riddled superheroes, anyway." Or: Tony has a panic attack in a Burger King.

Without You (I Was Broken) by parkrstark

Summary: "How did you get shot? You just webbed me up 5 stories from being shot!’ ‘D-Didn’t know it was coming.’  ‘Dammit, Peter! This isn’t the first time your spidey sense hasn’t worked. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because Rhodey told me I was being insane. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t always working? You shouldn’t go out into battle like this when your powers are being wonky and—’ ‘You’re here.’ ‘What?’ ‘You’re here.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t...I can’t really feel the danger when you’re around."

[americaarse]

A Sibling's Promise

whumptober day 12: character death

pairing: peter parker x older sister!reader

characters: peter parker, sister!reader, happy hogan, mj, ned, the avengers, may, mysterio

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, canon events in the mcu, blood, crying, parental death, sibling death, character death, very time jumpy, let me know if i missed any!

word count: ~3.3k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

this is remastered from my wattpad, so i have permission. this is under the title "multiverse pt 1"

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: a sibling's promise is one that can stand the test of time. it's a promise that can be fulfilled at any moment, even in death

It was dark and it was hot. You had a hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing. "Come on! Where are you?" Your eyes widened, he was close. "I'm gonna find you." 

He was right there.

Suddenly light flooded your vision. "No! I've been caught by the mighty Iron Man!" You dramatically flopped out of the closet door onto the floor. Peter laughed and placed his feet on either side of your torso. 

You laughed, sitting up to catch the 8 year-old in your arms. "No, now I've been caught," he pulled off his plastic Iron Man mask. "Yes you have, and now I'm gonna use your weakness against you!" "Iron Man has no- AHHH!" You started to tickle him. He became deadweight in your arms, screaming and laughing. You began to laugh too.

He started to fall to the floor. You immediately stopped tickling him and managed to catch his head before it hit the floor. 

You both slowly ceased your laughter, panting a little. "Thanks for playing Iron Man with me, Y/N." Peter hugged you. "Of course, Petey." "Thanks for protecting my head too." You smiled, "I'll always protect you, Peter." You hugged him a little tighter before getting up off the floor.

You brushed off your pants and sighed. "Pete, why don't you go clean up? I'll meet you in the kitchen iiinnn 10 minutes?" "Make it 8." You shrugged, "8 it is." 

Peter rushed to put his toys away and wash his hands. You went to get ready for work.

8 minutes passed and you walked into the kitchen, Peter just finishing up washing his hands. 

He turned, frowning when he saw you in your uniform. "You have to work today?" You nodded, "Yeah, I'm sorry Peter. I got a call, they need me to fill in." "I thought we were gonna play video games and build Legos?" 

You ran your hand through his wavy hair, "How about when I get home, we have a sleepover?" "Can we play video games?" You nodded, "All the games you want." "Even the scary ones?" You winced, "I don-" He gave you the puppy eyes. "Pete- *sigh* I'll think about it." "I'll take it," he hugged you. You laughed and rubbed his back.

"I'm home!" 

"In the kitchen, May!" 

She rushed in, "Hey, you should probably get going, don't want you to be late." You nodded, squeezing Peter's shoulder before you let go. "Okay, I'll be back around 7." 

You walked by Aunt May and she handed you a jacket, "It's supposed to rain. Be careful, and the customer is not always right!" You laughed as you went out the door, shrugging the windbreaker onto your shoulders.

As you move to close the door you turn to Peter. He waved, smiling, "Hi, Y/N." You smile and wave to him, "Hi, Peter."

(SM:Homecoming)

You burst into Peter's room. 

"You're Spider-Man!?" 

Peter screamed and fell out of his chair, "Shhh! Keep your voice down!" He ran up to you, shushing you. 

"You're Spider-Man?!" You whisper yelled as you closed his door. "How did you find out?" "You're not the best at keeping secrets, Pete." He scoffed, offended, "What? I am great at keeping secrets." "Really? You sure? Cause I remember when I got my first boyfriend, and told you not to tell May." 

"And I didn't!" He defended. "You so did! The day after I told you May immediately gave me the safe-sex talk." Peter shrugged, "Everyone needs to hear that-" "I was 17!" "Well, in my defense, you shouldn't have told a 9 year-old to keep a secret." You rolled your eyes, "Whatever."

You sighed and put your hands on your hips, "How long?" 

"What?" 

"How long have you had powers?" 

"Since I was 14." "14!?" He flinched slightly at your volume. 

You sighed and ran a hand down your face, "Did you fight in the Avengers 'Civil War'?" He opened his mouth. "Don't lie to me." He sighed, "Yes, but I-" "Just be careful, please." 

He heard the desperation in your tone and he nodded, looking into your eyes, "Of course." "Because I couldn't live with myself if-" He grabbed your shoulders, "Hey-hey, I'm gonna be okay. I'll be careful, I promise." 

He ran his hand down the side of your head, attempting to comfort you, “I promise.” You nodded, grabbing his hand. "Just please, don't tell May. I don't want her to know just yet." You nodded again, "Of course. Secrets safe with me. What else are big sisters for?" He smiled and hugged you. "Thank you."

It was silent for a moment. "Now I wish I never turned down the internship after the Battle of New York."

(Avengers: Infinity War)

Peter looked at Tony, panic in his eyes. "Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good." 

"You're okay, you're okay." 

"I don't -- I don't know what's happening." Tony caught him as his legs dusted beneath him. "I don't wanna go Mr. Stark, please. I don't wanna go. I can't go. I can't leave her..." 

Tony laid him down, gripping his hand as he dusted away. "Tell her I'm sorry, please. I broke my promise..." "I'll tell her, kid." He looked at Tony, "I'm sorry..."

(between Infinity War and Endgame)

You bounced your leg as you waited for Peter to walk through your door, or Stephen to open a portal in your kitchen. Ned had immediately called you when Peter got off the bus and Wong called you about Stephen. You knew May was gone. You watched her dust in front of you.

Now you waited. Hope still filling your chest as you waited for a sign they both were okay.

When someone knocked at your door, you bolted to it. 

Only for you to open it and find Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff at your door. "Hey, can I help you?" Steve's frown was prominent and Nat's eyes were red. "Y/N Parker?" You nodded, crossing your arms as your nerves set in. "We need you to come with us, it's important." You didn't question it and left with them.

You ran into the Compound, Steve and Nat calling for you to wait. But you didn't hear them, your sole focus was running in there and finding Peter, alive.

"Peter?! Peter!" 

You ran into a room, seeing some Avengers you recognized and a few you didn't. "Uh, hi," you greeted. "Um, have you seen a 16/17 year-old boy? About this tall, brown hair, brown eyes, probably had a red and blue suit on." 

The group gave you a look of sympathy, but not an answer. "Please, I just need to know-" 

"Y/N?" 

You turned to see Tony on a hospital bed. "Tony!" You jogged up to him. "Where's Peter?"

Tony couldn't look you in the eyes. "Tony... Where's Peter?" "I'm so sorry, Y/N..."

You felt like throwing up. "No. No. Tony, this isn't funny. Don't lie to me." "I'm not lying Y/N." You shook your head, not bothering to hold your tears back. "He told me to tell you that he's sorry, for breaking his promise..." Your knees gave out, sending you straight to the floor.

You broke down, clutching your chest as you gasped for air. Nat was by your side, catching you when you tackled her, gripping at her clothes. She rubbed your back in comfort, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." "I promised..."

She pulled you back to look at you, "Promised?" "I promised Mom and Dad that I would keep him safe. That I would protect him. I promised him that I would protect him. That's what big sisters do. They protect their little siblings."

Nat bit her lip and pulled you in again as you cried, sobbing for your little brother and praying this was just a sick dream.

(post Endgame)

Tony called you the moment he figured out time travel, saying that he's not sure if it will work but thought you deserved to know. You were equally grateful and terrified about it.

But now you were pacing your kitchen. Aunt May had called you from a random phone, so you knew it worked. May was on her way, you having moved since the Blip. Tony had a house built for you, feeling like he owed you in some way.

A knock broke your trance and you looked to the door. You hesitated, not being 100% sure it was Peter. Then you heard his voice, "Y/N, Ms. Potts said you would be here. It's-it's Peter."

You broke out into a tear-filled smile, rushing to the door.

You pulled the door open, revealing a very disheveled, but alive, Peter.

You smiled, embracing him. "Pete, oh God, you're back. You're back." He hugged you, crying into your shoulder, "Is-Is May-" You nodded, pulling back to hold his face, "She's on her way. She blipped too…"

Peter's face softened, "Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. You were alone, I'm-" You shook your head, "No, Pete, please don't apologize." You smiled, tears falling as you moved his dirty hair out of his face.

He rested his forehead on yours, "I broke my promise…" You shook your head, "It was a ridiculous promise…" He chuckled before falling to your shoulder in tears.

"Peter, what's wrong?"

"Tony's gone… He sacrificed himself to defeat Thanos." You gripped onto Peter, "Pete.. I'm so sorry."

You moved him to the couch, not caring if he was gonna get your couch dirty, he needed you.

(Far From Home)

Peter limped across the bridge, looking for a way to get up to Mysterio. 

"Peter?" He turned, the eyes on his mask widening in panic. 

"No, no, no. Y/N you have to leave, it's not safe." He did his best to hide his limp from you as you looked him over. "Peter," you looked around, taking in the damage. "Are you okay?" He nodded playing it off, despite knowing you can see right through it. 

"Please get out of here, I can't let him hurt you. Please go find Happy," he turned you and tried to push you away. You fought back, "No, Pete. I'm not leaving you." "Please you have to. I can't let you get hurt," he grabbed the sides of your head. "Please. I can't get you killed." You shook your head, "I'm not leaving." 

"Will you please stop being so damn stubborn!?" Peter threw his hands up. "I'm your big sister! I'm supposed to protect you! It's my job!" 

"Y/N... please, let me protect you this time. Let me be a good brother." You looked down, biting your lip with your hands on your hips, "You're the best brother." He hugged you. "Go get 'em, Pete." You couldn't see his smile but you knew it was there.

Mysterio had watched the whole interaction, smiling as he found another weakness for Peter. He smirked as you walked away and prepared for Peter's attack.

Once he had Peter preoccupied with fighting his drones, Mysterio managed to use his illusion tech to lure you back.

"Y/N! Y/N, help! Help me!" 

You wiped around to see Peter on the ground. You didn't hesitate to run back and help. 

"Peter!" You fell to your knees beside him, looking him over, "Where are you hurt?" "Everywhere, it hurts everywhere." 

Just then, you remembered what Peter told you over the phone, All of the attacks are fake. He uses some sort of illusion tech. And you remembered the look on his face, how he had to be sure it was you.

"Peter, did I date during the blip?" It furrows its brows, "Why would you ask me that right now?" "Please, just answer me." 

It sighed, "We've never talked about the blip." You gave him a tight smile, "You're right, I just had to be sure." You and Peter actually talked about the 5 years he had been gone quite often. Just to help him catch up on pop culture. 

This wasn't your Peter and you need to escape it.

Finally you decided to just run for it, "I think I hear medics, Peter. I'm gonna go get them. Just stay here, okay?" The illusion nodded, shifting while groaning in pain. You got up and sped walked towards the exit.

In your escape, you felt a shooting pain in your leg and you fell, "Shit!" "Too smart for your own good, Y/N," Beck sighed. You turned to see the drone. "You won't win," you spat through gritted teeth. "I already have," the drone shot you in the stomach before freeing some rubble above you, trapping you under broken concrete.

MJ ran onto the bridge, looking everywhere for Peter. 

She saw him coming towards her, mask off and limping. 

He looked up and saw her, "MJ." She dropped her mace, "Hey." 

They ran at each other and embraced, "Are you okay?" "I'm okay, are you okay?" Peter asked, hugging her tighter. "Yeah." 

"Everybody else okay?" "Everyone's okay." 

"What happened?" "The-the drones, they were following us. Th-then they just stopped," MJ didn't let go of Peter. "Was that you?" "Yeah." They pulled away from the hug. "Did you get him?" Peter looked down with a small nod, "Yeah."

MJ pointed at the mace, "Well, I-uh-brought that. In case you needed some help." They both chuckled dryly, "Thanks." 

"Anyway-uh- there's this sweaty guy, in the tower with us. I think he works with you, or something." Peter furrowed his brows, confused for a second before he realized she was talking about Happy. 

"He-he -um- gave me this," she held out the broken Black Dahlia necklace. Peter gasped, "No, no! Oh, MJ, oh I'm so sorry. I had this plan, this stupid plan, and I wrote it all down, and I was gonna buy you this, give it to you in Paris-" MJ kissed him, cutting off his rant.

He looked at her stunned and she gave him a small smile. "Aaand you kissed me. What?" "I don't have a lot of luck when it comes to getting close to people...um... so I lied. I wasn't just watching you because I thought you were Spider-Man." Peter chuckled, "That's great."

She looked down at the necklace, "Black Dahlia like-" "Like the murder," they said at the same time. "Yeah," Peter laughed a little before looking at the broken necklace, "I'm sorry it's broken." MJ looked down at it, playing with it, "I actually think I like it better broken." Peter smiled, nodding. 

When are you gonna tell her Pete? - Y/N have got a plan. - Plans are for nerds, Peter. Just tell her.

He smiled as he remembered your words, "I really like you." MJ smiled, "I really like you too." Peter smiled before they kissed, pulling away just to come back and kiss again.

When they pulled away again MJ left to go back to the class. "Hey, MJ?" She turned, "Yeah?" "When you see Y/N, tell her I'm okay, please." She nodded, "Of course." Peter nodded and turned to get out of his suit and meet up with the class.

MJ returned the mace to the tower before running to meet up with the class.

She slowed down when she saw the ambulances and the people getting looked over. 

"MJ, is Peter okay?" She looked at Ned and Happy, "Yeah. Yeah, he's okay. Have you seen Y/N?"

"MJ?" 

The girl turned at the call of her name, gasping when she saw you on the ground. "Y/N!" 

Ned and MJ ran to be at your side. "MJ, Ned, are you guys okay?" They both nodded, looking over your injuries. "Is Peter okay?" "Yeah, yeah he's fine. Are you okay?" You nodded, "Yeah, now that I know you guys are safe."

MJ and Ned looked at your wounds, tears filling their eyes. You had become a big sister to them. And they knew how strong your bond with Peter was. Him and Aunt May were all you had left.

Meanwhile Peter was looking for Happy, "Happy!" 

He ran up to him, "Hey, have you seen Y/N?" Happy gave him a sad smile, Peter being too tired to really see it. "Peter-" 

"Oh my God," Peter saw you over Happy's shoulder. He ran to you, MJ and Ned moving out of the way.

He fell to his knees, taking stock of your injuries. "No... no... no... this wa-wasn't supposed to happen. I-I told you to get off the bridge. Why didn't you leave?" You chuckled, wincing in pain after, "Beck..." Peter noticed your shallow breathing and your heartbeat pounded in his ears. 

"Beck, he-uh-he tricked me... When I noticed it was fake I tried to leave... Then," your back arched as your face scrunched up in pain. Peter shook his head, "Stop talking, help's on the way. Just focus on me, okay?"

He turned, "I need a medic over here, please!" His voice crack made Happy, MJ and Ned flinch.

He turned back to you and your eyes were struggling to stay open. "No, no, Y/N, keep your eyes open. Please, don't- Oh God, this is all my fault." His tears slipped past his eyes, falling onto your clothes. 

You shook your head, "No, Pete, this is not your fault. Please don't blame yourself." "If I would have just kept you in the dark, you wouldn't be here and you," he drew in a shaky breath. "And you would be okay." "I would have found out, you know that," you chuckled, coughing and wincing in pain. 

He nodded, his red and slightly swollen eyes filling with more tears. "What else are big sisters for?" MJ choked out a sob, covering her mouth. 

"That's why you can't leave. I need you. You're my sister, I can't do this without you," his voice went from strong and normal, to weak and a whisper. He cried onto your shoulder, "Please don't go..." 

Happy was looking around, "We need a damn medic! What the hell is taking so long?!" He stomped off, looking for someone to help you.

Your shaking hand came up to run through the short hair at the back of his neck. He sobbed onto your shoulder. "Pete," you brought in a shaky breath. "Pete, please look at me." He looked at you. "I need you to promise me something." He nodded, not trusting his voice. 

"Take care of Aunt May for me." He smiled, nodding, "Of course." "And please, don't stop helping people. They need a hero," you smiled and wiped his tears. "They need you Peter." 

He nodded, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on yours, "Okay." You closed your eyes as well, "And smile, Pete. I'll always be there, okay?" He nodded, "Thank you."

Ned and MJ were crying, both wanting to comfort Peter but knew he needed this. Happy walked up beside them. "Where's the medic?" He shook his head, "There weren't enough ambulances..." "No, she-she can't..." Ned and MJ hugged, crying.

Peter pulled back, frowning at your lack of response. Your eyes were closed, lips parted slightly. "No," he shook his head. "No... no... no... please, oh God, please no."

He shook your shoulders, "No, Y/N, no please..." One of his hands cradled your face, "Please..."

He hung his head, letting out a low, broken, "hello..." Hoping you would say it back, but knowing full well you wouldn't.

Happy sighed, grabbing his shoulder. "Peter, you need to get back with the class..." 

"I can't leave her here." 

"Peter," MJ squatted beside him. "Harrington is looking for us, we need to go..." 

"I can't leave her in a foreign place by herself." 

"I'll take her back. Fury and I will make sure she makes it home, I promise." Peter nodded, squeezing your hand before letting MJ and Ned help him up. 

"Happy?" "Yeah, kid?" "May can't know it was Mysterio... She can't know Y/N was here." Happy nodded, "Of course."

Peter let out a small sob and looked at you one last time, "I'm so sorry."

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

[americaarse]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Avengers Team, Helen Cho (Marvel) Additional Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker’s Parental Figure, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Peter Parker is Tony Stark’s Adopted Child, Aunt Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Building Collapse, Peter Parker has PTSD, Strong Peter Parker, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Identity Reveal, avengers are pardoned, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, building explosion, tight space if that bothers you, Peter Parker Saves The Day, Canon Divergence - Post-Movie: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), peter refuses to lose another father figure, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 4 of Adventures in Irondad-ing: A One-Shot Collection Summary:

Natasha scooted towards Peter, her eyes on the rebar that she could now see gruesomely sticking out of his leg, blood coating the pole and pooled on the ground below him. Quickly untucking her shirt, she began ripping some strips off the bottom of it.

“Peter,” she started softly, looking up at him, “I’m going to try and stop the bleeding OK?” Peter glanced down at her and nodded. She could see the vein in the side of his neck pulsing, and wondered how long he could hold the concrete before it crushed them all. Quickly putting that thought out of her head, Natasha went to start wiping away the blood around his wound. Once she’d cleaned it as well as she could, she went to staunch the flow, then frowned, confused.

“Huh.”

“What?” Tony snapped, worried and stressed.

“He… It doesn’t look like he’s bleeding anymore.” ____

OR, after an explosion brings down a building on top of them, Peter is the only thing between Tony, Natasha and certain death. Trapped under rubble together, well… nothing builds bonds like shared trauma.

[americaarse]

Blipping Back to the Future

Summary:

Everything happened so fast, Peter truly doesn’t remember exactly how they got to the hospital. One minute, Dr. Strange was at Tony’s side, then he was tossing a change of clothes Peter’s way—which he still has no idea how he got in the middle of the crumbled remains of the Avenger’s Compound but he’s grateful for them so his identity doesn’t get blown—and the next, they’re stepping out of a portal inside of a hospital’s ER.

Peter followed closely behind Pepper and Rhodey as a team of nurses wheeled Tony towards the ICU double doors, only to be stopped by a nurse when she noticed Peter following.

The nurse put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him as she looked at him with a mixture of concern and worry at the sight of his face. “Family only beyond this point.”

“But I’m-“ Peter tried, but the nurse shook her head.

“Family only.” She repeated in a finalizing tone.

As they wheeled Tony into the ICU through the double doors, Peter managed to catch a glimpse of the uninjured side of his face before the doors closed, completely blocking Peter off from him.

(Febuwhump Day 1: Touchstarved, Day 2: Flinching and Day 3: Alt #3: Soft Words)

Word Count: 5,658

Genre: whump, fluff, angst

Link to read on AO3:

Peter splashes cold water on his face to clean all of the dirt and blood off, watching it all swirl around in the sink’s drain before it goes down. He blinks a few times, droplets of water falling from his eyelashes as he turns the water off, standing a little straighter to look at his reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall.

He looks like shit.

Bruises and cuts litter his face and he can see the beginning of a black eye forming around the corner of his right eye judging by how red and puffy it is. The fight against Thanos and his army really did a number on him. His whole body aches terribly, especially in his arms and legs, and not to mention the horrible headache he has from all of the blows he took to the head.

But he could care less about himself right now.

All he cares about it Tony.

Keep reading

[americaarse]

Literary Avenger's Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Reader - series

Broken - finished

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Bonus Part

I love you and I hate it - finished

Part 1 | Part 2

Bucky Barnes x Reader - One-shots

On Thin Ice - requested

Mornings Like This - requested

Love Is A Battlefield

Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy | Part 2

New Year's Eve

Avengers x Reader - One-shots

Only Love Can Hurt Like This - Dad!Tony

Back To You - Steve Rogers

MCU + Reader Masterlist

[americaarse]

Your Touch is My Shelter

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: 6 months later, Natasha returns from the dead. It's a tightly kept secret as it's unknown how she returned, but everyone claws and fights about who will keep watch over her like savages. You're far down the list of people who should protect her, but you find yourself unable to leave her be.

Warnings/Tags: hurt/comfort. undisclosed trauma. physical and mental signs of trauma. angst. somber assisted bath time. sad hair braiding. emphasis on hurt AND comfort.

Note: This takes place after endgame :-) the dates might be inaccurate idk i did my best 🥲 ha-ha enjoy 👁️👁️

Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Count: 5.2k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You heard the news through Bruce. 

Well, it was through Bruce telling Pepper, and you just happened to be at the coffee machine getting shitty coffee. The quality drastically dropped since Tony was gone, and you've been putting off telling Pepper she needed to literally buy anything else. 

You didn't really know how long was the appropriate time for someone to grieve before you could ask if they could buy another brand of coffee.

Tony was gone. 

A part of you thinks you keep putting off telling Pepper because then you'd have to face—really face—he was gone. 

Steve was gone. 

What did it matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? Coffee was just coffee, and it'd probably taste fine if you just put a shitload of sugar and creamer in it. 

Vision was gone. 

Honestly, you only really noticed because it was the same brand as whatever was stocked up at the Avengers Compound. 

Natasha was gone. 

But perhaps the coffee always tasted bad at the Compound and it had nothing to do with Tony being gone. Natasha used to bring coffee into the office most days for people, and Clint filled in the other days. 

Maybe Tony Stark just liked shitty coffee, and you were only now just noticing it. 

Natasha was back. 

Your hand faltered at the coffee machine, spilling a little of it on your hand, and the burn stung immediately.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked as he noticed you inhale a sharp breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at him before looking at Pepper. "Morgan's fine. She just has the flu and her fever's gone down. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and fluids. I'm going to set up a humidifier for her and help her settle into bed with a movie and wait for her to fall asleep before I head out."

Pepper let out a heavy breath, putting her hand over her chest in relief. "Oh, perfect. Thank you so much for coming suddenly. I just—Morgan doesn't really like going to the hospital, and suddenly she started throwing up and having a fever—"

"It's fine, Pepper," you waved off her ramblings after you wiped what you spilled on the counter. "You can always call me if you need me."

"Seriously, I think I might just employ you full-time as a live-in doctor if you say that," Pepper joked, and you laughed. 

"I am already your live-in doctor, just for one of your research labs. instead."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You don't think about Natasha—at least, you try not to. 

You heard things here and there about it through Pepper. Apparently, she's being held in a government facility similar to The Raft, detained like some criminal they needed to study instead of the war hero who sacrificed everything to save the world. 

It made you sick to your stomach. 

But you hear that Clint, Bruce, and Nick Fury have been fighting to get custody of her, so you don't think about it. There were people who knew Natasha far better than you did and were way closer to her than you were. 

She was in good hands. 

So, you continue on with your daily routine to pass your monotonous days, unaware you're waiting for some kind of update.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next time you heard about Natasha Romanoff, it was Clint and Bruce cornering you at your lab.

"What?" You panicked, tensing up. "Why me?"

"You're the only person Natasha ever sought out to treat her," Clint answered, and you felt even more lost at the fact he knew. "Natasha allows medical professionals onsite to help her, but there were times she left to go see you. That has to mean something."

But, of course, he knew. He was Natasha's...best friend. And Clint was an incredibly nosy person, even if Natasha didn't tell him. 

"I've only treated her a handful of times—literally only five times. I don't know her that well," you shook your head, trying to walk around them. "I didn't even know she had a sister until you told me."

"Please," Clint begged. "I'm fighting to get her out, and the doctors they have looking after her are shady and callous with her. I can only visit her with Nick's influence, but it's not enough to get her out of there."

"And what do you suppose I can do?"

"You're a renowned cellular biologist," Bruce cut in. "If they're holding her for research, we want someone on our side who will at least treat her like a human being. The faster we get answers, the faster we can get her out."

"Please," Clint begged again. "Natasha needs help. She's...different. And it's only going to get worse if she remains in there. She's not talking, and they won't let her go until they can find some answers."

It felt wrong. 

You don't want to study Natasha Romanoff like an animal. Despite being a scientist with an inquisitive mind, you don't care about how she returned.

But it sounded like Natasha would be researched whether you liked it or not. And if that was the case, you do wonder how the other doctors may be treating her.

"Fine, we're going first thing in the morning," you gritted out, unable to block out the handful of memories of times you've treated her.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2012

"Oo, that looks painful," you hissed in sympathy as a redhead with a busted lip and nasty gash on her temple entered the med bay.

There was a snort that sounded like a half-grunt. "It looks worse than it feels. I hope I'm not intruding, but Tony said I should see you to be treated."

"Natasha, right?" You asked slowly, gesturing to a seat for her to take as you grabbed some medical supplies. 

"Yes," Natasha replied, equally slow with caution.

"Tony talks about you a lot," you tried to reassure her of whatever paranoia she might have. It probably didn't help that Natasha was still in her catsuit and probably would've preferred to be called by her alias.

"Well, don't believe everything he says," Natasha gives a light but somewhat tight smile. 

"Oh, so you aren't a unique woman with high intellect, sneaky, and rightfully smug?" You teased, and it was flattering that you could make a superhero laugh. 

You began treating Natasha's wound carefully. 

"You're pretty good at this, doc," Natasha commented as you blew on her brow, even if it didn't sting. "You're pretty gentle. Must be why Tony says you're his personal doctor."

You chuckled. "I'm actually a cellular biologist. Tony is funding my research and pretty much my lifestyle. With the money he's paying me, he can come crying about his boo-boos anytime. Although, he doesn't really come to me for serious stuff. It's usually if he has something ridiculous like a papercut."

"But you can treat wounds and other medical things?" 

"I was on my way to becoming a medical doctor before I decided to go into research instead."

"Huh," Natasha hummed, raising her brow at you. "Smart cookie."

"I'd like to think so," you finished cleaning Natasha's wound and putting a bandaid over it. "Feel free to come see me if you need any other basic medical aid. For a pretty redhead, it's free of charge."

"And if I come back blonde?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," you smiled, and Natasha smirked back at you.

"Smart and funny. Tony has it too good."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

April 2014

"This is the worst bandage job I've ever seen. Who did you go to see for this? A grocery clerk?"

Natasha grunted. "Hi, to you too, doc."

You looked at Natasha, noticing how different her hair is now. But it's been about two years since you have seen her. Despite your offer for her to come to you anytime she needed help, she never did. Or she rarely did, you supposed. 

You could only deduce that Natasha was used to caring for her wounds on her own. That, or she didn't trust you. 

"Alright, let's go to my office," you sighed. 

"Am I interrupting?"

"Not really, kind of hit a brick wall."

"Oh, me too."

You looked over at Natasha, who had a straight face, but you noticed the bruise on her temple outside the obvious gun wound on her shoulder.

You pursed your lips. "Will you hate me if I laugh?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I may like you less if you don't."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2015

"You know, when I told you that you could come for me for basic medical aid, I feel like you didn't understand the meaning of basic."

"Is this too complicated for you?"

"No."

"Then am I unwelcomed?"

You pursed your lips at the redhead, who stared at you with a tiny upward quirk on her lip. "No," you sighed. "Just not sure why you'd want to see me for such serious wounds. There are other more experienced doctors."

You lift Natasha's shirt up, looking at the long gash on the side of her stomach. "We're gonna need to stitch this up. I've been doing research with Dr. Cho, and we have a new machine that can help with cell tissue generation. It would be faster than me manually stitching—"

"It's fine," Natasha declined. "I'd prefer if you manually did it."

You frown lightly at the fact but relent to the redhead's wishes. Another year passes, and Natasha's hair has changed again. 

You worked silently on cleaning Natasha's wound, and she also declined the anesthetic. You focus on stitching up the wound with precision and care.

"I like to go to you for some things because your touch is gentle," Natasha said quietly, but it felt so loud in the silent room. "It makes me feel human when I can feel your touch."

You looked over at her face briefly, but Natasha wasn't looking at you. You don't take any deeper meaning into it. She's someone who's probably felt dehumanized most of her life. The machines that can heal her twice as fast would be fine for life-threatening injuries, but it probably all feels clinical. 

You looked back down at the stitch. "Well, as long as you're a redhead, it's free of charge."

"Don't kid yourself, I would look perfect blonde."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

September 2016

"What are you doing here?" You hissed as you pulled Natasha in quickly, peering outside before shutting the door. 

"Why? Am I unwelcomed now?" Natasha's tone sounded a little hurt, and you scan her body. She didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere that required immediate attention, but you did notice crusted blood at the edge of her nostrils. 

"No, but you could get caught here," you shook your head at her. "They're looking for you and the rest of team cap everywhere."

Natasha shrugged. "I highly doubt Tony has your place under surveillance. We don't meet enough for anyone to consider looking for me through you."

You sighed, not sure what to feel about the statement. "I suppose. I don't work for Tony anymore, anyway."

Natasha's brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"I don't agree with what he's doing."

"So you're on Steve's side?"

"No, I think Steve was obstinate too. They're both stupid. Men are stupid."

Natasha laughed before wincing as she held her nose.

"What happened?" You brought her over to your couch before finding your first aid kit.

"I broke my nose," Natasha shrugged. "Can you believe breaking my nose saved millions of girls?"

"With you? Yes." You smirked as you tilted her head to look at the injury closer. "Lucky you. Looks like you don't need surgery. Do you always come here immediately after you save the world?"

"Yep."

"Couldn't even clean your nose before you did?"

"And deprive you of giving me care? I wouldn't dare."

You snorted, carefully cleaning the blood in and around her nose. It was silent again before Natasha spoke up.

"So, what happened with your research stuff now that Tony's not sponsoring your work?"

"Pepper is funding it, even though she knows I won't share anything with Stark Industries at the moment. She doesn't want me to sell my research or provide any data to other companies."

"Smart cookie."

"And a really hot blonde."

"This feels targeted. It's like you know I might dye my hair blonde soon."

"You're still a redhead; I have no idea what you mean. I like your hair, though. Braids look good on you."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

June 2018

Natasha showed up at your front step, holding her rib. There's a look of genuine relief at seeing you.

"You're still here," her voice sounds empty and hollow. "You're still here."

You pulled her inside gently. You're still in shock yourself. You were on a walk when people started disappearing left and right. The sheer panic on the streets was chaos as you were dialing Pepper frantically, almost crying when she picked up the phone. Then there were actual tears when you called other people in your life, and half of them didn't pick up...and they weren't going to. 

"I'm here," you swallowed. "What happened to your rib?"

"I don't know." Natasha looked so lost. There was the look of failure and self-blame all over her face. 

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't know."

You grasp her wrist, carefully moving her hand away from her rib before gently putting your fingertips against them. Your fingers trail up, down, and around. 

Suddenly, Natasha broke into tears. 

"Does it hurt?" You asked, panicked.

"You're still here," was all Natasha choked through her tears.

You didn't know what to do other than treat her wounds more gently than ever before while reassuring her you hadn't disappeared. You were one of the many people on this planet still here. And when she was better, she'd get the rest of them back. 

It was a long and exhausting night, and Natasha fell asleep in your bed, and you made sure she was comfortable before leaving to sleep on the couch.

Natasha's hair has changed again.

"You look good blonde."

That was the last time you saw her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha's hair has changed again. She's gone back to being a redhead with blonde tips. Her hair was a mess, barely brushed, and looked knotted. 

The room was big and had padded walls, a singular bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in another. There were lights in parts of the cell but also areas of darkness. It looked like a fucking prison cell. 

You were looking through an unbreakable glass window, the middle holding up a microphone you assumed was linked to the speaker in the room.

Natasha stood in the middle of the room under the light in a hospital gown falling off her shoulder. Her hands were covered in scars, and her lips were so chapped, you were sure they'd split even if Natasha breathed the wrong way. 

Natasha was only a few feet away from you, but it felt like she was a million miles away.

They let you see her alone under the guise of privacy as you saw her.

You felt you weren't supposed to see this—see her like this. 

A sense of dread filled you at the blank expression on Natasha's face at what she'd gone through—what she was still going through. 

She was a hero, and this was how they were treating her? This was someone who had fought wars repeatedly for this stupid country and the rest of the world, and they had her locked up like a mental ward patient from the 1600s.

You thought the government had gotten better. There were reforms and peace after people came back from the snap. This wasn't how they were supposed to treat someone who'd given up their life to ensure everyone got theirs. 

It shouldn't matter that she came back; she had still given it up in the first place for them. 

Natasha didn't even seem to recognize you through the glass as you stepped closer to the microphone. She looked past you as if she could tell the exit was somewhere behind you. 

"Natasha?" You said into the mic, and it bellowed into the room.

Nothing. 

"Nat?" 

Natasha's eyes were listless. She was a broken, empty shell that seemed more like an animated corpse than actually being alive.

You swallowed, trying one more time. "You're still a redhead. Looks like it's still free of charge."

Natasha's eyes flickered this time, her head tilts towards you as she blinked with focus. It was just a spark, but it was something, and relief spreads through you. 

"Not completely." You could barely hear her voice, but it was coarse. Cold.

There should've been a joke about some kind of discount, but Natasha didn't make it. You were speechless.

You didn't know what to say. Don't worry, you're trapped in here, but I'm going to help with the research, and hopefully, we'll get you out soon?

It was like prolonging a death sentence. You were horrified.

"Just—wait for me," the words flew out of your mouth so fast but you meant them with every ounce of your being. "You're gonna go home with me today."

Natasha's eyes sparked at the words but just as quick as you saw it, they died out, falling back into listlessness. She turned, stepping into a darkened corner away from your view and prying eyes of the cameras as she said, "No, I'm not."

You realized she's probably spent weeks watching Clint, Bruce, and Fury try to get her out unsuccessfully.

The resignation made something lurch in your throat and eyes sting with desperation and rage. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"So, we can send you a contract—"

"You're going to release her to my custody," you cut off some government official. He was old, wearing some kind of toupee that was slicked back to hide his balding head. 

He looked at you in disbelief, almost laughing like you were some stupid, naive young girl. 

He looks at Clint and Bruce, who are also just looking at you in shock.

"As I've told your friends and Nick Fury, this is out of their hands. The Accords are still intact as of right now, therefore—"

"I don't care about the Accords. You will release her into my care. I'm more than qualified and I have the resources to find the inane answers you're looking for while rehabilitating Agent Romanoff," you cut him off again, able to tell that it was irking him. 

"That won't be necessary as you can see we have the resources here," the government official raised his brow at you.

"Your resources can't compete with Stark's resources."

It was no secret that Tony had left a very sizable fortune to you in his will, outside of everything he gave to Pepper and Morgan. And it was also no secret how close you were with the surviving Starks. 

"Doctor," the government official sighed, obviously making it sound like you were a nuisance. "If you're not here to join our research team, I suggest you go on your way and remember the NDA you signed."

You glared at him even more. "I'm not leaving without Agent Romanoff. You will hand her over to me, or you will regret it."

"And exactly how will I regret it?" The government official looked smug, and you smirked back at him.

"I'm still in talks with the government regarding my research, and I will pull out and sell that information outside of this country as I'm free to do so. I know Dr. Cho is in talks between the US and South Korea about her nano-technology. One word from me, and America can fall behind on those advancements as well." You pulled out your cell phone in a threatening manner. "Pepper and I will pull out all of our money from the very same banks and company investments that you're supporting and make you watch as they collapse one after another."

"You'd ruin our entire economy—our country by doing so!" The official was red in the face. "You'd put your entire country into chaos?" He sneered at you.

"I will if you don't give me Agent Romanoff!" You sneered back at him. "It's not like you won't eventually get your research and answers if she's in my custody. It works in both our favor."

The official is staring at you, glaring and seething.

"I imagine your colleagues and superiors will pin the blame on you if this entire economy and country goes into ruin because if I have to do that, I will say that it's the government's fault. The NDA said I can't specifically talk about Natasha and this place, which I won't. But I'm sure some journalist will discover the truth and plaster all over the news what you're doing to a war hero," your voice was so vindictive; you're not sure if you've ever been so cold before. 

"So," your voice was flat, devoid of emotion now. "What will it be?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It was agreed that Natasha would stay in a cabin that Pepper owned out in the countryside. You were to provide monthly updates on your research and rehabilitation progress. And while this was in headway, neither you nor Natasha was free to leave the country or this planet. 

Clint initially wanted you and Natasha to stay with him and his family, but you declined. You pointed out that it would be hard for him and his family—his children, especially—to see Natasha like this. 

Pepper had everything prepared while you gingerly collected Natasha.

"We're going home, Natasha," you said softly, shrugging off your jacket to wrap around her shoulders. But Natasha still didn't react, even if she let you take her hand and drag her out of the facility. 

During the car ride, you mentally planned what you needed to do. Natasha needed to eat, take a bath, and rest. 

"Have you eaten yet?" You asked the redhead, sitting stoically in the car, straight as a rod. 

There was no answer. Natasha was peering out the windshield, her hands perfectly on both thighs. Clint looked worried as he looked at you.

"Natasha?" You gently placed her hand over hers. You could feel the bumps of the white scars over her hand. A part of you is too frightened to ask where she got these from. 

Natasha looked down at your hand over hers before looking at you. Her eyes were so empty. Such a dull green like dying grass.

"Did you eat?" 

Natasha nodded once before looking back outside the windshield. 

You looked at Clint, trying to give him a reassuring smile, but deep down, you were afraid you had no idea what the fuck you were doing. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Pepper says you've been here before, but let me know if you need help finding anything," you brought her into the house where Natasha just stood, looking at nothing in particular. 

"Um," you took a shaky breath. "How about a bath? I'm sure it'll be good to get the grime and stale air off of you." 

Natasha didn't move on her own, so you began to lead her up the stairs to the bathroom. 

It was a detached tub near the high window to get plenty of sunlight without anyone being able to peer in. 

"I'll just get this started for you," you offered. Turning on the tap and pouring in a liquid that formed into bubbles. "Just make sure to check the temperature and adjust. Pepper says that sometimes that faucet can be a little finicky."

You turned to Natasha, who stood there, staring at the wall. She was unmoving, making no gesture if she was waiting for you to get out or to start undressing.

"Do you, um, need help?" You asked, but there was no answer. 

Maybe it would wake her up a little once she was in the water. 

"I'm—" you took a long breath in. "I'm gonna help you undress and get into the tub. If you get uncomfortable at any point, let me know and I can stop or do something else."

It wasn't like you've never seen a naked body before. You've seen plenty both in your sex life and field of work. You've even seen parts of Natasha's body when you've treated her. You just never thought you'd see Natasha fully naked. 

You slid your jacket off her shoulders, letting out a puff of breath. You looked past her as you undid the string of her hospital gown. You looked up when you slid down her underwear before guiding her towards the tub. Your gentle guiding seemed to spark Natasha into mechanically climbing into it herself the rest of the way. 

"Okay, cool. Um," you stuttered. "I'm sure you've been through a lot. Once you're done, we can get you into bed and if you're hungry later, I can make you something."

You were getting used to the lack of answers, but it didn't make your stomach drop any less. "Just let me know if you need anything."

You don't wait for a response this time, leaving without shutting the door fully. Down the hall, you leaned against the wall, swallowing harshly. 

It feels like you brought a lifeless shell home. A part of you wonders if Natasha really did return or if this was just some lifeless doll. 

You didn't want to think about it anymore, so you pushed yourself off the wall and into a bedroom with a suitcase and unzipped it open to grab some clothes.

When you were heading back, you heard the water still running and frowned. 

"Natasha?" You called as you opened the door. The tub was overfilling, and you rushed to turn off the faucet, trying to not slip.

Natasha was sitting how you left her, staring ahead at the running water but not really looking at it.

You sighed, relieved that the bathroom floor was designed with wood and curved so that any water would naturally run towards a drain in the floor. 

You go to check the temperature of the water and find that while it was initially fine when you turned it on, Natasha hadn't attempted to adjust it, and the finicky faucet ran nearly scalding water. 

"Jesus, Natasha, you're going to hurt yourself," you yelped. You braced through it and stuck your hand in to drain the tub halfway.

You inwardly sighed, knowing you would have to help Natasha through the entire process. You began to refill the tub, monitoring the temperature and shut it off when it was filled adequately. 

"I'm going to help wash you if that's okay," you muttered. "Just let me know if you prefer to do it yourself at any point."

You grabbed a nearby stool and sat on it before grabbing the loofa. You began with Natasha's shoulders and arms, trying to wash parts of her that were easy to access.

Natasha tensed as you washed her, so you tried to be more slow and careful. 

"It's just me," you said softly, trying to reassure the redhead. "I've always taken care of you."

Natasha said nothing, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as you continued. There wasn't much dirt on her, but the stale air that was surrounding her began to fade away. 

Her knees were propped up, folded to her chest, and you washed down her thighs and legs, trying to not think of anything too much as you did it. You tried not to think about the scars on her hands and feet. 

Readjusting your stool, you went to sit behind her. You used a cup to wet Natasha's hair, trying to detangle some of it gently first. It was then you discovered a shaven spot in the back of her head, where there was a large scar. You realized that was where Natasha's head hit the ground when she—

You swallowed, trying to suppress the anger that they shaved her head to get a look at something so private. 

You squeezed a considerable amount of shampoo in your hands and gently rubbed it into her scalp. Natasha tensed at first before your fingers massaging her scalp made her relax, her body leaning back against the tub and her head into your hands. 

It was quiet as you did this. You shampooed her hair twice before slathering it up in conditioner and finally getting out the rest of the knots. You drained the tub, grabbing the shower head to rinse her down once more before you grabbed a towel and helped her out. 

You helped put a bathrobe around her to help dry her as you didn't think you had the gall to fully dry every part of her by hand. Grabbing her clothes, you led her to her bedroom, setting her down on the bed. 

Natasha sat silently as you towel-dried her hair with gentle hands. Her eyes fell closed as you began to blow dry it. Your soft fingers tousling her hair. 

So delicate. 

When it was dry, you set the blow dryer aside. 

"Hm, your hair is pretty sensitive and might be for the next week. It might be better to braid it so it doesn't tangle and break when you're sleeping," you commented, mostly to yourself. 

You took sections of her hair, delicately beginning to put her hair into a french braid. 

"You've always had beautiful hair, red or blonde," you complimented Natasha as you finished. You moved to sit in front of her to check if you did okay from the front. There wasn't a response, but Natasha opened her eyes. They focused on you, looking at you as they traced over the features of your face. She was studying you apprehensively. 

Natasha lifted a hand, slowly reaching up as her fingers brushed the side of your face. It felt bumpy from the scars, but it made the back of your throat burn. 

"Am I really here?" Natasha mumbled as she then traced your cheek before your lips. "Am I really here with you?"

Your eyes were burning now. You couldn't even answer right away because you were afraid your lips would start trembling. 

You lifted your hand, hesitating at first, before you held her hand against your face. "Yeah, you're really here."

The edges of Natasha's eyes began to brim with tears. 

"When I jumped, I didn't die right away," Natasha whispered. "There was a feeling that something bad was going to happen. It didn't get me yet, but it was going to."

You couldn't help the tears that began to fall over the edge of your eyes when they overfilled. 

"Something bad happened to me," Natasha's lip trembled. "It's still happening to me."

You gripped her hand tighter unintentionally, but it was like it grounded Natasha. 

"I was scared," Natasha admitted. "I was scared that even if you came to me, it wouldn't go away."

Then, Natasha grabbed your hand and placed it against her cheek. It was still warm from the bath and blow dryer. 

"But I can feel your touch," Natasha sighed like it was a relief. "It's gentle and I feel human. I'm scared I'm not really here."

"You are."

Your throat felt clogged with raw emotions, and you didn't know what to do with it. You've only seen Natasha a handful of times, and maybe it's because the more you do, the more emotionally charged you both feel. 

"You're really here," you told Natasha, using your thumb to caress her cheek. You didn't know what else to say. 

All you can do is offer her shelter under your touch.

[americaarse]

Captain America: Civil War - 4

Summary: You make it to the airport but it looks like you're gonna have to fight your way out. Thankfully Steve called some backup.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader, slight Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Descriptions of injuries. Language. Mentions of Y/N and Y/N/N (=your nickname).

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: It took me a fucking long time to write this, I hope I did the airport scene justice. Here's to hoping the next chapters don't take me as long to write! I did my best, enjoy!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You get to the 6th level of the parking garage at the Leipzig/Halle airport and Steve parks next to a van and you all get out. Steve gets closer to the van, followed by Sam while you stay behind with Bucky, both of you leaning on the car as you stand on the passenger’s side to be able to see over the car because you’re just that short. You hear a little snicker from Bucky and look at him with your eyes narrowed as he seems amused by the sight but doesn’t say anything, your attention going back to the van as Clint loudly opens the side door.

“What timezone is this?” Scott asks, clearly disoriented as he gets out.

“Come on” Clint encourages him and pushes him slightly towards Steve. “Come on.”

Scott walks to Steve and shakes his hand with an amazed look. “Captain America.”

“Mr. Lang” Steve politely says as he shakes his hand.

“It’s an honor.” He says in awe. “I’m shaking your hand too long.”

You try your best not to laugh as Scott fangirls over Steve.

“Wow! This is awesome!” He turns and sees Wanda and, in the same cheery voice, says “I know you, too. You’re great!”

Then he turns back to Steve and feels his shoulders saying “Jeez” and you can’t help but giggle, seeing the scene and everybody’s reactions that go from amused to confused while Scott continues talking.

“Ah, look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people, so… thinks for thanking of me” He says and you giggle, looking at Bucky to make sure you heard right and his face is as confused as you feel. You turn back to Scott as he says. “Hey, man!”

Sam tries to play it cool by saying “What’s up, Tic Tac?”

“Uh, good to see you.” Scott says, seeming a little confused at the nickname but deciding to blow past it. “Look, what happened last time when I-”

“It was a great audition, but it’ll…” Sam interrupts him, shaking his hand with a chuckle. “It’ll never happen again.”

“It was hilarious!” You comment somewhat loudly and everyone turns to you, Sam glaring while Scott giggles quietly as you wink at him and wave a little at Wanda and Clint.

“They tell you what we’re up against?” Steve brings everyone’s attention back on the matter at hand before you and Sam start bickering.

“Something about some… psycho-assassins?” Scott says innocently and you keep in your laugh, hoping Bucky is not offended by Scott’s description of the Winter Soldiers.

“We're outside the law on this one. So, if you come with us, you're a wanted man.” Steve warns him.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Scott says casually and you grin. Dude is pretty cool.

“We should get moving.” Bucky says.

“We got a chopper lined up.” Clint says to the group, just as the PA starts announcing something in German, which you fortunately understand.

“Dies ist eine Notsituation." You frown. Emergency? “Alle Passagiere müssen den Flughafen sofort evakuieren.”

You’re about to translate when Bucky beats you to it. “They're evacuating the airport.”

“Stark.” Sam says and you roll your eyes. Yeah, that makes sense, that dramatic diva.

“Stark?” Scott echoes, sounding surprised and not in a good way.

“Suit up.”-Steve says in his Captain voice and you know better than to disobey.

-

Steve is in his uniform now as he strides through an underpass, then jogs onto a private runway, heading for the chopper when an electro-disabler slams onto the chopper and Steve looks up. Tony and Rhodey, both in their Iron Man and War Machine suits, descend and land in front of Steve.

You’re in the terminal with Bucky and Sam as the latter scans the airport to find their Quinjet. You can’t really hear what the others are saying, but you can hear Steve through the earpiece.

“Hear me out, Tony.” Steve tries to reason. “That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.”

You see T’Challa leap over a truck and after a moment Steve says “Your highness.”

You can see Tony talking, you assume trying to get Steve to surrender, before you hear Steve again. “You're after the wrong guy.”

Tony says something else you assume to be about Bucky because of what Steve answers back. ”And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.”

You can see Natasha talk next and then Tony makes a face and you know he’s done, then you can hear it yelling “Underoos!” through Steve’s earpiece. 

Suddenly you see a guy in a red onesie swing in and shoot what looks like webs at Steve, stealing his shield and binding his hands before landing on top of a truck a little wobbly. 

You furrow your eyebrows and look at Sam to your right but he’s busy with Redwing so you look at Bucky next to him and he looks just as confused as you do. He meets your eyes and raises an eyebrow in question but you simply shrug and look back at the scene when you hear Steve say. “You've been busy.”

Tony tries his hardest to reason with Steve while, as planned, the Captain patiently listens to him while Sam looks for their Quinjet. “You did that when you signed.” He answers calmly at whatever Tony said.

You can see Tony pleading with Steve, and you almost feel bad but are snapped out of it when Sam finally talks. “We found it. Their Quinjet’s in hangar five, north runway.”

You see Steve raise his arms and one of Clint’s arrows flies through the air and breaks the webs on Steve’s hands, freeing him. “Alright, Lang.” Steve says and Scott enlarges, taking the shield from the guy with the red pajamas with a flip and giving it back to Steve.

“I believe this is yours, Captain America.” Scott says and you chuckle. Dude has a serious man crush.

The two men next to you look confused at what is so amusing, and you merely roll your eyes and say “come on” as the three of you start running.

As you’re going through the terminal, you see the Spider-man dude to the glass outside and all three of your attention goes to him.

“What the hell is that?” Bucky asks as you run.

“Everyone’s got a gimmick now.” Sam sounds really annoyed and obviously you have to tease him.

“That’s a person, not a metal bird, Wilson!” You say.

“Don’t bring Redwing into this!” He yells back, glaring at you as he runs.

“You brought Redwing into this!” You snark back and, before Sam can say anything, Spiderman breaks through the glass towards the three of you, Sam tries to protect you and that causes you both to go crashing into the wall. 

You can see Bucky throwing a punch but Spiderman catches his fist easily, shocking all three of us while shouting “You have a metal arm?! That is awesome, dude!”

Sam goes flying into Spiderman and takes him away, while you approach Bucky.

“Did that sound like a kid to you?” you ask him, still looking after Sam and Spiderman.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” He says starting to go after the other two.

“Matters a little…” You mumble while following Bucky.

You can hear Wanda and Clint talking through the comms, to Tony you assume when Wanda says “You locked me in my room” and then you hear Clint say “made you look” just as you can see through the window all the cars flying down thanks to Wanda’s magic.

Spiderman wings through the rafters in the terminal, chasing Sam who flies backwards firing shots. Spiderman stops on a high beam and just then Bucky throws a giant piece of metal at him. You can hear Spiderman yell back “Hey buddy, I think you lost this!” before throwing back the piece of metal, causing Bucky to cover you with his metal arm while it flies back, thankfully missing you both.

Sam takes the opportunity to kick Spiderman and try to bring him down, but Spiderman swings again and webs Sam’s wings, which sends him crashing to the floor. As he gets up, Spiderman webs his hands to the railing behind him and then sticks to a column and starts nerding out about Sam’s wings as you run to help Sam, Bucky right behind you.

You’re too focused on Sam to notice Spiderman swinging towards him at the same time that you got to him, luckily Bucky wraps his arms around you as all three of you crush into the railing and down to the floor on the level below. 

As you all land Spiderman quickly webs Sam’s arms together, Bucky’s metal arm to the floor and then your arms, sticking you to Bucky since he was still holding you with one arm as you basically landed on him.

While Spiderman talks over you, you can faintly hear Sam messing around with his gear and you hope he’s doing something useful. Just as Spiderman is about to shoot again, Redwing attaches to his wrist and drags him off.

After a beat of silence Bucky says “You couldn’t have done that earlier?” to which Sam answers “I hate you”.

You roll your eyes and say “God, you two are children”. You do your best to grab your pocket knife and after a moment of struggling succeed, cutting the webs off of you and Bucky with a little difficulty. Then you get up and cut the webs off of Bucky’s metal arm before going to Sam and helping him out of the webs too.

Your heads all snap to the window when you hear the sound of an explosion and can see it just as you hear Scott through the comms saying “Oh, man. I thought it was a water truck. Uh… sorry.”

You frown and turn to Sam and Bucky. “That can’t be good. Let’s go.” The three of you run out of the terminal as fast as you can and when you get outside you meet up with Steve, Scott, Clint and Wanda, all of you running towards the Quinjet.

“Come on!” Steve yells, but your run is interrupted when suddenly a yellow laser makes a line in front of you and you’re all stopped in your tracks. A fucking laser. You look up and see Vision hovering there.

“Captain Rogers. I know you believe what you're doing is right.” He starts while the rest of Tony’s team gathers around him. Tony flies in while holding Natasha, Rhoday flies T’Challa and Spiderman swings down with one of Dora Milaje, T’Challa’s personal guards, that you saw at the FBI bunker and you think her name is Ayo. “But for the collective good you must surrender now.” Vision finishes talking and there is a moment of silence. Where you all just look at the opponent directly in front of you, which in your case is Ayo.

“What do we do, Cap?” Sam asks.

“We fight.” Is all Steve says and you hesitate for a second looking at him and then at Ayo.

“Anybody wants to switch?” You ask while looking at your teammates, some look amused but Steve kind of glares at you. “No? Alrighty, then.” You look back ahead as you all start walking, then jogging faster and faster until you’re full on running towards the opposite team.

Tony, Rhodey, Sam, Wanda and Vision take flight and then the first sound that can be heard is Tony’s fist meeting Steve’s shield. 

Clint shoots an arrow at Vision that dodges it, Sam bumps into Rhodey mid-air, Scott shrinks and jumps on Natasha, Wanda shoots her magic at Peter while he shoots webs at her and T’Challa straight up jumps onto Bucky. 

You lose track of what everyone else is doing once you come face to face with Ayo, who loses no time hitting you with her spear but you luckily dodge it, throwing a punch of your own that she easily avoids. The only thing you can tell is that Nat and Clint are near you fighting, and so are Bucky and T’Challa.

You take out your extendable baton, glad that Clint suggested it, and try to hit Ayo repeatedly, but you miss everytime. You’re getting frustrated when you finally land a hit to her cheek and grin, but you quickly regret it when she kicks you hard on the ribs, sending you flying back.

Ayo jumps on you and raises her spear right over your face, but before she can hit you Wanda sends her flying back far away from you.

You don’t have time to thank her when she’s throwing Natasha off of Clint and into a metal container. 

“Geez, Wanda, go easy on them.” You tell her and she gives you a pointed look, before looking at Clint and saying. “You were pulling your punches” before walking away.

You and Clint exchange a look but you get distracted by T’Challa throwing Bucky into a container near you. You get into action right away and just as T’Challa is about to claw at Bucky, you push the supersoldier out of the way and you both go flying to the side while Wanda throws T’Challa into a big metal container far away from you. 

You and Bucky roll a little and when you stop you end on top of him. He looks up at you and whispers “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Soldier.” You wink at him and get up, helping him up too. Wanda joins you with an amused look on her face.

“Still think we should go easy on them?” She asks smugly, and you merely roll your eyes.

You’re thankfully distracted by Spiderman knocking Steve off his feet but when you go to help him, you’re intercepted by Natasha.

As you start doing hand-to-hand combat with her, you can hear Scott calling Clint “Arrow Guy” and you almost chuckle, but don’t let it distract you or Natasha could seriously hurt you, although it seems like she’s going as easy on you as you are on her.

“Nothing’s changed between us, right Nat?” You ask, concerned as you keep fighting, though it almost feels like any other sparring match you’ve ever had.

She laughs and nods. “Nothing, Y/N/N”.

You grin at the nickname and say “Good” before kicking her a little harder than you’ve ever had and sending her flying back, then you run to Steve and get to him as he points at himself and says. “Brooklyn”.

You frown at him and then look at Spiderman with one of those giant metal walkways people use to get to the planes and your eyes widen.

“That seems a little excessive.” You say, looking back at Steve.

“He’ll be fine.” Steve says shortly and starts jogging away, signaling to you to follow him, which you reluctantly do.

You and Steve are running when you hear Scott say “Uh-oh” through the comms and you frown. “Are you okay, Scott?”

You can hear him panting freaking out, saying “Oh boy. Whoa!”

You and Steve are joined by Bucky as you’re hiding behind some containers and you’re about to ask Scott if he’s okay again when Bucky talks and you turn to him. “We gotta go. That guy's probably in Siberia by now.” You can't help but think how fucking blue his eyes are.

“We gotta draw out the flyers.” Steve says, snapping you out of it and you make up your mind.

“I'll take Vision.” You tell him “You two get to the jet.” 

You know Steve’s about to argue when Sam cuts in “No, you get to the jet! All three of you!” He says through the comms. “The rest of us aren't getting out of here.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, if we're gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.” Clint chimes in. 

You and Steve look at each other and it’s like Sam can sense your hesitation as he says “This isn't the real fight, guys.”

“Alright, Sam, what's the play?” Steve says, his eyes darting between you and Bucky.

“We need a diversion, something big.” he says and you try to think about what you could do.

“I got something kind of big, but I can't hold it very long.” Scott offers “On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half… don't come back for me.”

You frown and look at Steve and Bucky who seem just as confused as you do. “He's gonna tear himself in half?” Bucky asks.

“You're sure about this, Scott?” Steve asks into his comm.

“I do it all the time. I mean once… in a lab. Then I passed out.” He tries and fails to reassure you.

“That doesn’t make me feel better, like at all.�� You say looking from Bucky to Steve, who seem to agree.

You can hear Scott mumbling “I'm the boss. I'm the boss. I'm the boss. I'm the boss. I'm the BOSS!” to himself and then suddenly he grows into a fucking giant of 60-65 feet.

“Jesus fucking Christ” You say almost in shock.

“I guess that's the signal.” Steve says and starts running towards the jet, you and Bucky following closely.

You can hear Sam saying “Way to go, Tic Tac!” as you run, going past Scott, who stops T’Challa from following you by kicking a bus into him, then Rhodey almost gets to you, but he’s stopped by Wanda.

The three of you are getting closer to the jet when a tower starts falling over the entrance, courtesy of Vision, but Wanda keeps it up with her magic for you. As you pick up your pace and approach it, you’re stopped by a spear landing right in front of Bucky, missing his foot by a centimeter.

Ayo is about to jump on Bucky but before either him or Steve can do anything to stop her, you throw yourself on her, sending her stumbling back and to the ground, enough distance between you that you have the opportunity to look behind you at Bucky, Steve just behind him with a look that’s both impressed and shocked at your reflexes.

“I got this. Go.” You tell the two men even though your eyes are fixated on Bucky. 

“Are you sure?” he asks you with a hint of worry and you grin.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sergeant.” Steve smirks and nods, moving towards the jet again, but Bucky hesitates. You know Wanda won’t be able to keep the path clear forever so you try to reassure him. “Go, we’ll be fine. Go!” You yell the last word, which seems to snap him out of it and he turns around with a nod, running at full speed towards the Quinjet.

You turn around just in time to see Ayo running towards you, but this time you’re not fast enough and she sends you falling back. You quickly get up and do your best to keep her occupied while the tower that Wanda was keeping up falls to the ground, or more accurately taking her punches while landing little to none yourself.

Ayo gets distracted for a second when she sees Natasha stunning T’Challa and that’s enough to give you the opportunity to take the upper hand and take her down. Unfortunately you don’t notice how close the two of you are to her spear but then again neither does she.

You see Giant Scott get taken down and, while still holding Ayo down as best as you can, you say worriedly through your comm “Scott? Scott, talk to me, are you okay?” There's a pause while you hold your breath and then he says “Does anyone have any orange slices?” And you let out a breathy laugh, both amused and impressed by his resilience.

In the time it took you to check on Scott, Ayo managed to get a hold of her spear, almost driving it through your arm but thankfully she misses, though it still leaves a pretty deep cut.

Your eyes widen and you get off of her, she wastes no time to go help T’Challa. You lay down on the ground while holding your arm where the cut is and can see the Quinjet taking off and you let out a relieved sigh. You sit up and can see Vision going to Wanda, you smile and get up, going to check on Scott.

“You alright, big guy?” You ask him as you approach him with a little bit of a limp and he nods chuckling.

“I am. Are you alright? “ He eyes your arm and you nod.

“I’ll be fine.” Clint approaches you and wraps an arm around you to help you stay up, knowing you’re not gonna ask for help but he can clearly see by your quickly paling face that you need it.

You look towards the Quinjet and your eyes widen when you see Rhodey quickly falling down, Tony and Sam both diving to help him. “Shit…”

You all watch in horror as he hits the ground, Tony lands right beside him and then Sam lands a little further away. You can hear Sam saying “I’m sorry” right before Tony shoots him and he flies backwards. 

“SAM!” You yell and try to start making your way to him even if he’s kind of far, but Clint holds you back with his arm around your waist, Scott’s hand on your uninjured arm.

You hold your breath until you hear the faint “I’m okay” in your ear, followed by Sam’s grunts and you relax, mumbling “Thank fucking god…”

You look around the airport, all the destruction and the people you still love despite it all. Steve and Bucky made it out of here, so you won. At what cost though?

You can just hope this was all worth it.

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham @mary-jinx @abbyyourlocalmilf @selcouthial

[americaarse]

LOVE IS A COWBOY

✎ summary: JJ Maybank taught you what love is. He taught you what heartbreak was too.

✎ characters: JJ Maybank

✎ word count: 415

masterlist

Rough around the edges, stops you in your tracks

Wrecks you in the worst way when it looks like that

Knocks you off the horse, but it keeps you comin’ back

Love is a cowboy, mm-mm

You felt your world stop when you first laid eyes on JJ Maybank. He was a bit rough around the edges, but he had you captivated. Your world was never the same after you met JJ. Meeting him wrecked your entire life, but you couldn’t stay away.

You can wrap your arms around it, but you can’t make it stay

All the bad ones say they’re good, and all the good ones ride away

A little El Dorado, and a little bit John Wayne

You were never able to quiet pin him down. He was a free spirit if there ever was one. One second he was there, and the next, he was on another adventure.

Makes your heart feel like wild horses in your chest

Trying to catch, it’s like tryna tame a wild, wild west

And when I’m with him, it’s like ropin’ the wind

Love is a cowboy, mm-mm

The fluttering in your chest whenever JJ was around was almost unbearable. It was never as unbearable as being without him though. JJ was a hard one to catch. He was only ever around when he wanted to be, but every moment you were with him felt like you were on cloud nine. To you, JJ Maybank was love in human form.

Take you dancin’ in that neon, leave you cryin’ in it too

Yeah, gets ya drunk like whisper and higher than the moon

So when you get that feelin’, hold on to your boots

Love is a cowboy, mm-mm

The highs were the happiest you’d ever felt. Like when JJ snuck you away at midnight, the two of you dancing in the pale moonlight. The lows, well, they felt like someone was ripping your heart right out of your chest. Under that same moon, he left you alone and in tears more times than you can count.

It makes your heart feel like wild horses in your chest

Trying to catch, it’s like tryna tame the wild, wild west

It’s reckless and rugged, it’s sweet and it’s stubborn

Love is a cowboy, mm-mm

You were never quite able to pin down JJ Maybank. But he showed you what love was. Love it reckless and rugged. Love is sweet, and it’s stubborn. Love is JJ Maybank.