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yelena-bellova · 8 months

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: Free

Plot: The morning after Y/n and Jamie’s heartbreaking talk, an unexpected savior shows up on Y/n’s door, leaving her at a crossroads.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child neglect/abuse, mention of sex

A/N: THIS IS IT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THIS IS THE CHAPTER. I’m so excited for you guys to read this one and have all your questions answered. I hope the payoff is as sweet as you’ve been expecting. Y’all have been so enthusiastic over the last few chapters, it really makes me smile. Enjoy!! ❤️💙💛

———————

Heartache could spread through the body just as easily as illness. Y/n’s head was fogged, her limbs hurt and she felt nauseous the second she opened her eyes.

Somehow she managed to call room service and order breakfast, plain toast and coffee, before falling back into bed. The clock read 10AM, she hasn’t slept that long in years. Then again, there wasn’t much sleep had.

The weight of Jamie’s confession weighed in her chest just as heavily as the moment he’d made it. She’d been up till some unholy hour, replaying the whole thing. His words, the quiver in his voice, his lips against her face…it reduced Y/n fits of tears, breaking her over and over.

There was no question as to whether she should skip the match or not. Not only did she have no desire to be around people, but she didn’t want to mess with Jamie’s head any more than she already had. She was worried enough she’d already cost him the game.

A rhythmic knock at her door signaled room service arriving. Y/n trudged across the room and opened the door, expecting to meet the waiter.

Instead, she got Ted, comically lifting the lid off the platter.

“Mornin’ sunshine!”

Y/n sighed, smiling as much as she could, which wasn’t very much.

Ted, however, found himself hilarious. “Room service fella was about to knock right as I was walkin’ by. Thought I’d have some fun with it.”

“Of course,” Y/n gestured to the room, “Come on in.”

Ted set the tray down on the table before turning back to Y/n, who was already moving to the other side of the room. There was a stiffness to her posture, as if she’d allowed a home invader in. Ted was well familiarized with her character, but he hadn’t seen her so reserved since she first started at Richmond.

“So what’s up?” Y/n asked, her tone devoid of any life.

“Oh, I just wanted to check up on you,” Ted shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets, “Haven’t seen ya in a while.”

“Yeah, things have been busy.”

“I bet,” Ted smiled, “You and Keeley must be kickin’ butt over there. The Dynamic Duo, but with gobs more style.”

Y/n chucked politely, playing with her hands out of nervousness.

Ted waited, watching as Y/n tried to dodge his line of vision. He didn’t expect an explanation to fly out of her mouth, but she was clearly on edge. His chances of waiting her out were decent.

“Well, we’re all glad you’re back,” Ted added, “Owner’s box has been lonely without you, I’ll bet.”

Y/n shut her eyes, it made the lying easier. “Yeah, Ted, I don’t think I can make this one.”

His face didn’t fall an inch, “Oh no. Something wrong?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” she continued, that part was true. She thought she remembered the clock reading 5AM around the time exhaustion took over.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ted played along, “I know the boys miss havin’ you around.”

Y/n slipped around the topic, walking to the window. “They excited for today?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded, “Revved up and ready to go.”

“That’s good,” she kicked her foot against the wall and diverted her gaze to the curtains. “How’s, uh…how’s Jamie?”

Ted studied Y/n, taking in her fidgeting hands and the exaggerated effort to her words. As hard as she tried, Y/n wasn’t that good an actress.

“He’s alright,” Ted answered, “Bit off, y’know. Little bit like you.”

With every word exchanged, Y/n could feel Ted unraveling the whole thing. He could see right through her.

“That’s too bad,” she said, her voice wobbling. The tears that she’d fallen asleep with were reawakening.

“Yeah, it is,” Ted agreed, “I sure hope he figures out whatever’s botherin’ him before the game.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, “He’s got a lot of people counting on him.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t as big a deal,” Ted took a seat on the edge of Y/n’s bed. “I’m more concerned with him, y’know. Why he’s hurtin’.”

Ted noticed Y/n’s shoulders begin to tremble.

“Why he’s keepin’ whatever it is to himself rather than leanin’ on somebody.”

Y/n wiped her hands over her face, her cheeks wet with guilt. She had finally reached it, her dreaded breaking point.

She turned to Ted, who looked at her as only a father could. He knew.

“You wanna tell me anything goin’ on?”

Crossing the room and sinking down on the mattress next to Ted, Y/n softly sobbed.

“Is it Jamie?” Ted asked.

Y/n bit her lip.

“Is it us?”

She sniffled.

“Whole enchilada?”

Y/n’s trembled as she inhaled, “I’m scared, Ted.”

“Of what?”

“This,” she gestured around them, “Richmond. This whole thing.”

Ted waited for her to explain further.

“I grew up having to fight for every shred of attention,” Y/n continued, “Doing everything I could to get my parents to…care. And no matter what I did, they never loved me. Not like parents are supposed to love their kids. And when I realized that, I just…shut everyone out. In high school, in college…and it worked. I was safe. I didn’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

“And then I…” Y/n paused, the happy memory washing over her, “I met these two women in a bar and they offered me a job. And suddenly, I’m a part of this sport that I never cared about and there’s this…family I never asked for. And it should have made me happy,” she grasped her stomach, “But it scared me, Ted. It fucking terrified me because you were all so kind and welcoming and you just took me in.”

She stopped to take a breath, “And then Jamie just…” Y/n sniffled, “He just…happened. And that was the scariest part because…”

She couldn’t say the words. Just like 12 hours before, she still couldn’t physically force them out of her body. But somehow, even without speaking, the sentiment got across.

“Hey,” Ted slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders. His dad mode had been activated.

For the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to be held as she weeped.

“It’s okay,” Ted soothed, rubbing a hand over her arm, “You’re okay.”

After hours of crying underneath her sheets, Y/n thought she had nothing left to give. But the comfort of another person’s presence created a whole new wave. She was letting down from years of self-determination to conquer her pain on her own.

“Y’know,” Ted said after a moment, “Openin’ yourself up’s one of the scariest things in the world. Anyone who says otherwise’s never really done much hurting. But it’s worth it.”

“How do you know that?” Y/n whimpered.

“You don’t,” Ted stated, “No way to know what’ll happen before it happens. But if you don’t take the risk of gettin’ hurt, you’ll never end up with anything worth having. Just how life works.”

“But y’know,” he sighed, “Where we work…it’s kinda the exception. The people there’re some of the best I’ve ever known. They don’t let you down.”

Y/n’s tears were slowing in speed, but not intensity.

“Know how our right reverend Mr. Rojas likes to say that football is life?” Ted earned a slight smile from Y/n, “Same goes for AFC Richmond. These people’re gonna stick by you through thick and thin. Once you’re a part of the family, you’re there. Doesn’t matter if you wanna be. It’s up to you whether you let ‘em in..but they’re gonna love you whether you like it or not. It’s a heck of a lot easier to just let ‘em.”

Throughout the years, Y/n had lacked many relationships, but that of a parent was the one she’d longed for the most. She needed someone to help guide her, to lovingly correct her when she was making the biggest mistakes of her life. In the moment she needed it most, Ted fit the role perfectly.

Without any prompting, Y/n slipped her arms around Ted’s neck and hugged him.

Ted returned and received it, he’d been going through it too. As true as ever, helping someone out of their pit stitched a little piece of him back together as well. He wanted Y/n to succeed in everything she did and he believed without a doubt that she could. But he wanted her to be happy, truly happy, more than anything.

“Thank you,” she whispered over his shoulder.

“No thanks needed,” he smiled, “I got your back.”

Y/n let go of him slowly and hesitantly. It was 10:30, the match was less than two hours away. “You need to go.”

“I do,” Ted replied, patting her shoulder before standing up, “You think you’re gonna stop by for a bit now? Cheer us on?”

Grimacing slightly, Y/n ducked her head towards the floor.

“C’mon now,” Ted clicked his tongue, “I thought we just made progress.”

Y/n chuckled and wiped under her eyes.

“Well, I hope you change your mind.”

Ted left Y/n with plenty to mediate on and strolled back into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He could lead her to victory, but he couldn’t hand her the win.

Y/n stayed on the bed’s edge a long while after Ted left, contemplating all he’d said. She was at what was potentially the most important crossroads of her life. Heeding Ted’s advice held the possibility of more heartache, more loss, more feelings of inadequacy. But didn’t her isolation already offer that in spades? Wasn’t she hurting enough on her own? Tearing herself down at every opportunity? How could anything possibly be worse than that?

But she had felt worse, twelve hours ago. Breaking Jamie’s heart after he’d poured his out to her had crushed her. She’d hurt him so deeply in the name of self preservation. Walking away from him was the most difficult thing she’d ever done. The worst part was that it was totally avoidable. If she’d have told him that she loved him too, they’d have been saved so much pain. Jamie wouldn’t have had to endure her rejection, Y/n wouldn’t have lost the most important person in her life. The blame was entirely hers.

It wasn’t just Jamie. Y/n was so tired of keeping Keeley at arm’s length. She craved her weekly tea with Rebecca. She missed problem solving with Higgins. She wanted to laugh with Ted and talk life with Beard and annoy Roy. She wanted to go to movies with Sam and drink with Dani and have lunches with Colin. She wanted to cheer the boys on at games and celebrate with them after.

She wanted to win and lose with all of them.

She wanted to be a part of their family.

But to do so, she had to heal her first one.

Before she knew what she was doing, Y/n grabbed her phone off her nightstand. She scrolled through her contacts, even though she had memorized the number in hopes that would somehow equal a call. She pressed the name and dialed.

It rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Y/n hadn’t expected them to pick up. It was 4-something AM where they were.

The familiar message played, asking her to leave her name and number.

Finally, the machine beeped.

“Hi…it’s me…” she started, suddenly nervous, “It’s Y/n. I know it’s early there, I don’t even know if you are there but…I needed to do this.”

Y/n drew a quick breath, it was now or never. “You guys really fucked me up. Me and Caylee. I mean, we’re really screwed up because of you. Maybe she’s doing better than me, maybe I’m the only one who’s still not over all of it but…you really messed up. And maybe you know that, maybe you don’t, but it’s the truth. I am…” she paused, “So broken because you two couldn’t love me. No— you know what,” her voice gained strength, “You could have loved me. You didn’t. For whatever reason, you didn’t. I did everything I possibly could to earn your love, and I never got it. And that’s fucked up.”

Her anger hastened her heartbeat, urging Y/n to go on. “And I don’t know how to forgive you for that. I know it’s possible, worse people have done worse things and they’ve somehow found a way to still be a family, but…I want to. If not for you guys, for me,” her chest’s rise and falls had evened out, “Because I’m tired of being broken. I’m tired of pushing everybody away. I’m tired of thinking that there’s something unlovable about me. I’m tired of thinking that being alone is somehow better than having people that care about you, and I’m tired of being scared,” Y/n threw her free arm out at her side and laughed, “I’m so tired of being scared.”

“None of this probably makes any sense to you, but, ” she sighed, “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to keep doing this. Only talking on my birthday, seeing you every couple years, not knowing what’s going on in your lives…I don’t want that. I want to know you. I want to come home for Christmas. I want to share my life with you. And if you can’t do that then…I don’t want anything.”

Her own words shocked her, was she really potentially kicking her parents out of her life?

“Because I’ve built a really amazing life here,” she said, her voice faltered with emotion, “With amazing people and they love me. They really love me and I’m crazy about them. And I want you guys to be a part of it,” she exhaled and felt the tears rock forward in her eyes, “And if you don’t want that, that’s okay. I’ll be alright because I have them.”

Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of a lifetime lift off her chest.

“I love you, Mom. I love you, Dad,” she continued, “And I hope you love me, for once, more than you do anything else.”

Y/n lowered the phone, staring at the call time. 2 minutes and 10 seconds was all it had taken. “Bye.”

The moment she disconnected, the room suddenly came to life. There was color to the walls and texture to the curtains. There was light shining in through the window and the smell of the coffee on its tray filled the room.

Y/n was free.

Lightened by the release of her life’s pain, the decision at hand became so clear. Y/n flipped on the hotel television, switching the channel to Sky Sports. The match was already into its second half and the Greyhounds were up by one goal.

She did the math in her head. The stadium was ten minutes away. She could still make it.

Flying across the room, Y/n dug through her suitcase for any clothes that weren’t pajamas. She emptied the contents onto her bed only to spot a familiar piece of fabric tucked in one of the compartments.

Y/n unfolded it.

Jamie’s jersey. Still packed from Wembley.

She laughed under her breath, the coincidence of it all was too perfect.

Y/n slipped on the oversized shirt, same as the last time. She threw on jeans and sneakers, grabbing her phone and coat before racing out her hotel room.

The elevator would take too long, she decided, so she sped down the stairs from the sixth floor all the way to the lobby. Jamie hadn’t been the only one to benefit from Roy’s training sessions.

Y/n bolted out the front doors of the hotel and ran to the sidewalk, waving her hands wildly to the cabs that drove by. Eventually, one stopped for her.

“Where to, love?”

“Ethiad Stadium,” Y/n answered as she hopped in the backseat, “Quick as you can.”

The cabbie got back in his lane and took her the way of the stadium. Y/n buzzed in the backseat, adrenaline pulsing through her veins at what she was doing.

“Could you put the match on?” She asked, most of them were typically broadcasted on the radio.

The driver flipped the station till he found the correct one. Y/n listened intently from the backseat, hanging on every word.

Halfway to the stadium, the cab hit typical game day traffic. After waiting impatiently a few minutes, the commentators announced there were twenty minutes left on the clock. If nothing changed in the next thirty seconds, Y/n would miss it entirely.

“You know what,” she reached into her coat pocket, picking a few bills from her wallet and throwing them in the front seat, “Keep the change.”

Y/n ignored the confused calls of the driver as she slid out the backseat into traffic. She ran through the lines of cars until she hit sidewalk. With every slap of her foot against the sidewalk, she could feel Ted’s words penetrate her heart even further. This was what she was supposed to feel.

The sight of Ethiad Stadium welcomed her. Guided by signage, she sprinted to the back entrance she’d usually come through with Rebecca and Keeley. Her sneakers practically screeched across the marble floor, slowing down only for the metal detector and security pat-down.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” Y/n recited her name to the liaison holding a guest list, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Ah,” the young man located her, “Welcome to Ethiad Stadium, Miss-“

Y/n was off before he could finish, bolting up the staircase that would lead her to the VIP box.

She pushed past guests dressed far nicer than her and slid through gaps half her size. Somewhere along the way, Arlo White and Chris Park’s voices became clearer. They were being played through the stadium’s sound system.

“Tartt tried to soldier on, but now he’s in some distress and may require attention.”

Y/n’s steps slowed, pausing in the busy hall to listen properly.

“The med team is helping him off the field. It looks like Richmond may be in trouble.”

Never in her life had Y/n run faster.

Arriving at the VIP box, she rushed up to the security guard.

“Ticket please.”

“I don’t have one,” Y/n panted, “I’m with AFC Richmond.”

“Sorry, love,” the burly man shook his head, “Can’t let you in without a ticket.”

“No, no, no, I’m PR,” Y/n insisted, “I need to get in there now.”

The security guard was unmovable, taking a firm stance in the doorway to block her. “I can’t allow you in without a ticket, ma’am.”

With Jamie injured, there was a new recklessness to Y/n’s urgency. She didn’t quite care what she had to do to get in. She jumped in place to see over the guard’s shoulder, spotting the top of Rebecca’s coiffed hair and Keeley’s curls.

“There! There’s my bosses!” Y/n exclaimed, surging forward through the tiny space between the man and the door.

He pulled her back and away from getting any further, “You can’t enter without a ticket. If you don’t leave now-“

“Rebecca!” Y/n shouted, “Keeley! Keeley! Rebecca!”

She was loud enough that both women, plus Higgins, turned around in their seats. The sight of Y/n struggling against the security guard must have frightened them more than she’d intended.

Rebecca rushed through the room, “Let her go! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“You know this woman?” The guard asked, still holding Y/n back as if she were some crazed fan.

“She works with me,” Keeley scolded, having followed Rebecca, “Get your fucking hands off her.”

The guard released Y/n quickly, eager to avoid any more reprimanding. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he addressed her, “Go on in.”

Y/n launched herself into Rebecca’s waiting arms, exhausted but charging off once more with the women.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” Keeley said as they rushed back to their seats.

Ignoring any and all things around her, Y/n ran down the steps of the box and threw herself against the railing. Jamie. Where was Jamie?

Down by the side of the pitch, he was laid out with the physios working on his ankle. Whatever move he’d pulled had cost him something terrible.

“What happened?” Y/n asked, unaware of who she was asking.

“He stopped a goal and landed wrong,” Keeley explained, slipping into the seat beside Y/n’s, “They just brought him off.”

Y/n clutched the railing with a vice-like grip, her eyes never leaving Jamie. She could see he was breathing hard, that his body clenched with every touch the physios made. He’d never been injured on the pitch this bad.

The game, however, couldn’t stop for one player. Ted made the call to play with ten men for the time being while Jamie rested. The Greyhounds held their own, Van Damme in particular blocking nearly every goal. But all Man City needed was one goal to tie things up and take the league title.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n mumbled as if she could will him to rally, “Come on.”

When the medics had done everything they could, Ted kneeled down next to Jamie. They appeared to be in deep conversation, Y/n would have killed to be on the other side, encouraging Jamie back onto the pitch. Whatever Ted was saying had to help. The team didn’t stand a chance if it didn’t.

“Get up, get up, get up,” she whispered, “Jamie, please get up.”

In perfect timing, Jamie extended a hand to Ted, who helped get him to his feet. Y/n held her breath as he bore weight on his ankle and exhaled when he didn’t buckle.

“Yes,” she clapped.

Ted went back to Beard and Roy, and Jamie took his time getting back on the pitch. The Man City fans livened up and began booing their former striker.

With her emotions driving her, Y/n turned to the sections around hers. “Oh, fuck off!”

Jamie shared her sentiment, taking the hate as well as the praise. He egged them on further and encouraged the taunts, jutting his tongue out and beating on his chest.

“Come on, Jamie,” Y/n cheered. There was no way for him to see or hear her, but she stayed up and screaming as if she were right beside him.

Jamie made it back to the pitch and the match resumed. Van Damme blocked another goal with spectacular skill and got the ball over to Isaac. Isaac kicked it across the field to Jamie, who controlled it masterfully.

Y/n’s breath hung in her chest as he moved across the field. Before her eyes, he came back to his truest self. This was him at his very best. This was Jamie playing for no one but himself and it was beautiful.

Jamie avoided every single City player that tried to steal the ball away. Making it to the net, he sent the ball flying and the whole stadium froze.

It soared past the goalie, a perfect shot.

The Greyhounds pounced on their teammate, hugging and slapping him on the back. The entire crowd went wild, the Richmond fans lost their minds.

“YES!!” Y/n threw her hands in the air, “JAMIE!!”

Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming. Y/n and Keeley reached for one another and squealed.

Jamie chose the honorable route and didn’t make a big deal over the goal against his former club. When the boys let go of him, the ref blew his whistle and held up the sub board. Roberts was coming on, Jamie was coming off.

It was the most extraordinary way to leave a match, and Jamie was in a bit of pain. He wasn’t going to argue with the decision. But he hadn’t expected the Man City half of the stadium to change their tune. When their boos morphed to cheers, his eyes glistened with lifelong tears.

It had been a long road to get to a point where Jamie could play for himself. He’d spent all his years working to prove his father wrong, using his hatred as motivation to grow his skills. When he’d exhausted that option, he found himself a man without a country. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Then Y/n had shattered his heart.

He’d woken up with very little motivation to play. Their goodbye had added edge to all his fears. Mixed with the possibility of seeing his father, it was a miracle Jamie could move. But he was a fighter till the end, and even if he was a wreck, he would still give 110%. That was his gift.

As he looked up into the stands, despite everything, he wished Y/n was there to celebrate with him.

Little did he know, Y/n was crying tears of pride on the second level. She watched Jamie walk off the field feeling her heart completely tied to his. He’d proved everyone, even himself, wrong.

The game ended soon after that, with Richmond coming out on top. They had earned their spot in the last game of the season and a chance at the Premier League title. Y/n, Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins fell into an group hug.

“Hey, hey,” Y/n pulled out of Keeley’s arms and locked eyes, “You’re my best friend.”

Keeley’s gaze grew teary. She didn’t know what had changed in Y/n since the night before, but she welcomed it and hugged her tighter.

“And you,” Y/n reached over to Rebecca, “You’re just so fucking amazing.”

Rebecca laughed and wrapped an arm around Y/n, lovingly kissing her hair. Her friend was back from wherever she’d disappeared to.

“Oh,” Y/n grabbed hold of Higgins and grinned, “I love working with you so much.”

Higgins embraced her and shouted over the crowd. “Good to have you back.”

As much as she adored them, Y/n’s eyes fell downwards to the pitch. Jamie was celebrating amidst the boys, but they were about to leave.

Keeley followed her gaze, “Go. They’ll take him to the med room.”

Y/n’s face dropped, realizing that she had made a huge faux pas towards Keeley she hadn’t even considered.

Keeley could read the worry before it crossed Y/n’s lips. “Oi, fuck off,” she laughed, “Go get him.”

She didn’t need to hear anything else. Y/n took off running.

She sprinted through the stadium, weaving in and out of the crowd until she hit the authorized personnel area guarded by security.

“I’m with AFC Richmond,” Y/n breathed, exhausted by the effort expended. She reached into her wallet, “I have proof.”

She held up the employee ID and let the guard examine it.

“Go ahead,” the taller one slid to the side.

Y/n rushed through the glass doors. This was one of the only stadiums she hadn’t been to and she didn’t know her way. She peeked through every door until she found the physio room. Neither the medics nor Jamie were back yet.

Jamie hobbled down the hall, assisted by the physios that had aided him on the field. The adrenaline of the game was starting to wear off and he was looking forward to getting off his foot.

They opened the door to the back room to reveal the last person he expected to see.

Y/n spun around and their eyes met, fear suddenly taking hold of her. In her mad dash to the stadium, overcome with emotion, she hadn’t taken into consideration that Jamie may not have wanted to see her.

“Ma’am,” one of the medics spoke up, “You can’t be back here.”

Jamie was dazed, from the thrill of the match and Y/n’s presence. He took clumsy steps toward her, stuck in the magnetic pull they had on one another.

Y/n cautiously moved forward, terrified of what could come next. Jamie had every right to throw her out and never speak to her again. She almost wanted him to, to make her regret ever turning him away. Deserving seemed like too plain a word. She had earned his indifference.

But in the way Jamie’s eyes traced her face, warm and familiar, shocked and relieved, she knew that wasn’t the case.

They fell into each other’s arms without a single word.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered through her tears, “I’m so sorry.”

Jamie buried his face in her neck, unable to do any more than absorb her. She was here. She was here.

Y/n, however, had so much to say. She urgently guided his head up to face her, tears welling in both their eyes. In that moment, telling the truth never seemed simpler.

“I love you.”

Jamie’s mouth curled upwards, searching her face in shock.

“I love you so much,” Y/n confessed, holding his cheeks, “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

She was cut off by Jamie, pressing his lips fervently into hers.

Neither of them could clearly remember the kisses they’d shared during their one night together. They certainly couldn’t count them. But this, this held all the glory and promise of a first kiss. Months of tension and longing they didn’t know they’d felt were poured out, replaced by sweet relief.

With his brain hazy and high, Jamie backed them up towards the physio table. The first step he took on his ankle made him wince, but he didn’t break from their kiss.

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” Y/n pulled away, smiling breathlessly, “Ankle.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled as he chased after her lips.

Y/n giggled, letting him steal a few more sloppy kisses. She wasn’t in a place to deny him anything.

When Jamie did eventually pull back, he nudged his nose against Y/n’s, breathing her in. “You only back here ‘cause I won it for us?”

“You caught me,” Y/n ran a hand through the back of his hair, “I’d have slipped right back out if you hadn’t.”

Jamie grinned and stroked a hand over her head. Now that he had her as close as he’d craved, he wanted to touch as much as he could. He looked down between them and spotted the familiar blue and red.

“I swear, magic shit happens when you wear this thing,” Jamie rubbed the fabric between his fingers.

Y/n rested her forehead on Jamie’s shoulder, shaking with laughter.

“I’m a fucking genius for buying it,” he beamed, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hair. “I love you so much.”

Knuckles rapped against the door and someone cleared their throat. At some point, the medics had left and returned.

“Mr. Tartt,” one said, “We do need to check your ankle.”

Y/n removed herself from being pinned between the table and Jamie. Jamie dropped his hands to hold hers, unwilling to lose full contact as he took a seat. The physios had a difficult time working with Jamie’s constant movement, trying to pull Y/n in for kiss after kiss.

All things considered, Jamie got off lucky. A brace was wrapped around his ankle and he was advised to use crutches for the next few days. Jamie heard most of their instructions…well, some. He’d more distractedly spare the medics a glance before looking back to Y/n, who memorized all their warnings.

When they left once more, giving Jamie a minute to rest, he tugged Y/n between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/n tucked herself into his chest, holding his head as it dug into the side of hers.

There was so much to say, so much to explain, but neither one could think straight enough for any of it. All they wanted to do was hold each other, reveling in the sweet relief of longing being exchanged for love.

—————————

Back at the hotel, Y/n packed both hers and Jamie’s room while he rested on the Coach. She’d handed his suitcase off to Will before heading to her own car, regretting her decision not to join the team bus considering how the trip was ending.

Jamie got Y/n on the phone the second they pulled out of the hotel. She’d insisted he ride back with the boys, but he was more insistent on not being apart for a second. They spent very little time talking as the phone got passed around, each of the Greyhounds wanting to speak to Y/n after so many weeks with no contact.

Keeley and Rebecca coveted the mobile the longest, badgering her for as many details as Y/n would give them on how her and Jamie had come to be. Y/n revealed precious little information, both because she was still retracing the sequence of events herself and because she didn’t feel like telling the entire team just yet.

Along the way, Kenneth the bus driver and Y/n were weaving between lanes together, switching spots in front on one another. The boys could be heard shouting for Kenneth to drive faster so they could beat her. Y/n smiled and laughed the whole way back to Richmond, lighter than she’d been in years.

They pulled into Nelson Road Stadium late, but full of energy. The Greyhounds poured out of the bus toting champagne bottles, singing and chanting as loud as they could. Man City was their great white whale, and they’d beaten them so spectacularly, they deserved a fucking celebration.

Y/n moved around the physio room while Jamie was in the locker room, setting up a bucket of ice water for his ankle, per the medic’s instructions. She headed down the hall to retrieve him after, running into the boys changed into their dress clothes.

“Looking good,” she complimented.

The stragglers cheered and hung back to hug Y/n, Isaac picking her up and spinning her around. Richard pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey,” Colin grew serious and pointed a finger towards her, “You owe us an explanation for where you’ve been.”

“Yeah, not cool,” Isaac agreed, setting her back down.

“I know, I know,” Y/n chuckled, “You’ll get one. But tonight,” she gestured to the door, “Go make a big fat mess of headlines for me to clean up.”

They cheered rowdily before heading out the door, leaving Y/n beaming. She was home.

She slipped into the locker room, Jamie was seated in his assigned spot, fidgeting. She knocked softly on the door.

“Come on, superstar,” she held out a hand.

Jamie smiled coyly, “Where you takin’ me?”

“I’m making sure Richmond has a fighting chance next weekend,” Y/n replies, helping him to his feet, “Can’t afford to lose you before you beat the shit out of West Ham.”

Jamie wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders, much preferring to use her as his brace than the crutches. They took their time getting down the hall and into the physio room.

Y/n went about getting Jamie situated while he typed something into his phone. Once his foot was submerged in the ice, she stood to her full height and asked, “Whatcha doing?”

“Texting me dad,” he answered plainly.

Y/n blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Jamie clicked his phone shut and set it aside. They had a lot to catch up on. “When I was down, Coach came and talked to me. Told me that I should forgive me dad,” he quickly held up a hand to Y/n’s worried expression, “Not for him. For me. I’ve been in my head all week ‘cause I felt like I couldn’t be me without hatin’ him. Y’know? But between Coach and mum…I don’t know…I found it again. That thing that made me wanna play in the first place. Not for him, not for anyone…just me.”

Y/n smiled proudly. Jamie’s dad was the permanent thorn in his side. Rather than live with the pain, he was learning to grow around it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. It was also deeply ironic that Y/n had made a similar phone call to her parents hours ago. “Just something to tell you later.”

Jamie stroked a hand over her back, “How ‘bout you tell me what made you change your mind?”

Y/n slotted herself between Jamie’s thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. The new intimacy stole any intention of ever having less than one hand on each other.

“Ted came by my room this morning,” she started, “We had a talk and I…I just realized that I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to stay scared of you.”

Jamie’s brows raised, “Scared of me?”

Y/n nodded and brushed a hand through his hair, “You and all those big feelings…they scare the shit out of me. But I got a taste of what life’s like without you,” she sighed, “And I can’t do it.”

Jamie’s fingers moved against Y/n’s back, he watched and listened intently.

“I raced through the fucking streets for you,” Y/n smiled, “I fought a security guard.”

Snorting at the mental image, Jamie slipped an arm under Y/n’s legs and lifted her onto his lap. She yelped and tightened her hold around him.

“We’re gonna break this table,” Y/n laughed, “And people are going to make assumptions.”

“Let ‘em,” Jamie smirked, eyes full of adoration, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she whispered joyfully.

He wanted to hear it a million more times and he wanted to say it an equal amount. He captured her lips once more in a soft kiss, content to stay there as long as the world would let them.

The door to the med room squeaked open, “Oh, fuck.”

Jamie and Y/n broke apart, twisting to see Roy and Keeley stood in the doorway.

“You two were annoying before. You’re gonna be fucking unbearable now,” Roy complained.

“Oh, stop it,” Keeley lightly smacked his hand, “They’ve waited this long.”

“What’re you guys doing?” Jamie asked.

“We thought we’d come and keep you company,” Keeley answered.

Roy kicked the door shut and held up an unopened champagne bottle, “Fucking celebrate!”

Keeley squealed and ran over to hug Y/n and Jamie, the three of them embracing one another. “‘Cause that was fucking amazing, Jamie.”

“Yeah, I was fucking amazing,” Jamie agreed, “You’re right.”

Keeley cackled while Y/n dropped her head to Jamie’s shoulder. “Dear God, I don’t think I can handle this ego.”

“Gotten this far,” Roy grumbled, rolling his eyes at his protege.

“We might need to tag team it,” Y/n suggested, “What do you say, Royo?”

“No,” he pointed between Jamie and Y/n, “You signed up for this, he’s your fucking problem.”

Y/n looked down at Jamie, who was already grinning up at her. He’d been her problem for a long long time.

“I’ll make the best of it,” she said, pecking Jamie’s lips.

Roy popped the champagne and he and Keeley pulled up chairs. He offered his ex the bottle, “You start us off.”

“Mmm, don’t mind if I do,” she took a swig.

“Right,” Jamie turned to Roy, “What the fuck happened, man?”

The four of them laughed as the champagne was passed around.

“Did I look sexy?” Jamie asked, turning to Y/n and handing her the bottle, “Babe?”

“I take it all back,” Y/n joked and took a swig, “I’m not ready for this. We’re back to being friends.”

Jamie laughed and tugged her closer to him.

“Shame you weren’t injured in your fucking head, innit?” Roy grinned.

“Right,” Keeley spoke up, “You gonna tell us how this happened? Spare no details?”

Roy took the bottle from Y/n, “You can spare the details.”

Y/n scoffed, “Oh, there’ll be details spared.”

“She just doesn’t want people to know she stole my virtue,” Jamie cheekily smiled, “I get that right, babe?”

Keeley gasped, Roy grunted.

“I will fucking leave you here to freeze to death,” Y/n threatened, “If you ever tell people that’s what happened.”

The foursome stayed put for a good half hour, their raucous laughter bouncing off the walls. Y/n and Jamie explained an edited version of what happened in London to cause such tension at Georgie and Simon’s house. Keeley, surprisingly, didn’t seem to care that she was watching one of her best friends and her ex-boyfriend tell how they’d fallen in love. She was more thrilled than anyone. Roy was less than enthusiastic, but couldn’t hide his smile as he saw how happy Jamie seemed.

When it was time to leave, Roy helped Jamie in to Y/n’s car. He’d need someone to help him around the house for a day or two and there was no one else he wanted to take care of him. They made the twenty minute drive to Jamie’s house non-eventfully, Jamie pressing a kiss to Y/n’s hand at every red light they hit.

Y/n unloaded their bags first, dropping them in the hall, before coming back to help Jamie out of the car. They managed the driveway and the threshold just fine, and the second Y/n had locked the door behind them, Jamie was on her, crushing their lips and bodies together.

After so many months of falling without notice, neither realized just how much love they had for one another until they could express it fully. Like looking through some all-knowing kaleidoscope, everything leading up to that very moment made crystal clear sense. The jealousy, the adoration, the attachment…it had all been leading to this.

All of Jamie’s hard work, his effort to become his best self had mattered. This was the payoff.

Y/n’s long-standing walls crumbled with each touch, never to be rebuilt. Her fear melted at their feet.

They were free of their pasts, belonging only to their future.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #keeley jones x reader #rebecca welton x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

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passivenovember · 25 days

Text

(sharing again because I'm so proud of this one)

When Billy Falls in Love

Max's hair is twisted into a rough pink towel when she answers the door. She’s got a berry sorbet sunburn peeking through the angry red flush on her cheeks, freckles looking like they could peel off at any moment. It’s the same way Billy gets in the summertime, but he turns gold in seconds.

Max stays angry red.

She wasn’t at the pool today. Steve knows because he was at the pool fifteen minutes ago, and Billy wasn’t there. And if Billy’s gone so is Max, and if Max is here--

“He’s not here. What’s with the flowers?” Max wonders, with her teeth pulling at the wrapper of a Scoops brand popsicle as she eyes the poorly picked and assembled bouquet of daisies and weeds Steve managed to convince the gardener to let him snag.

Steve can tell she doesn’t really want to know what the deal is. Maybe she already knows.

Max is fourteen and a perpetually bored pain in the ass, already moving to shut Steve out of the house when he jams his foot so the door won’t close.

Max tugs on it. Groans. “Steve,” Max says, sounding tired.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know because we don’t keep tabs on each other, you psycho.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says. Neil’s car isn’t in the driveway, he almost points out.

Doesn’t.

Max almost cracks a smile, seeming to hear him anyway. If Neil’s gone that leaves Billy to play guard dog. “If you care so much about my stupid brother all of a sudden--”

“--All of a--”

“Get in your stupid shitty car and go drive around until you find him,” Max says, like. Get lost.

They’re so similar it burns. Chars licking over Steve’s skin in the shape of how they sneer and heckle the same, and they’re both so smart that Steve has to do math and study chemistry, and perform mental gymnastics just to keep up.

There’s a lot to latch on to, Steve’s hands slip over it like a gymnast missing the high bar.

The way she’s looking at him, the way Max said all of a sudden like Steve’s done something wrong--

“He used to drive you around,” Steve says, like. Aha. “Don’t you give a shit?”

About him?

About his bones and blood.

Max shrugs. “Why should I?”

And. Steve’s an idiot but he remembers how it was before, back when this whole thing started. His lips, red and tender from sucking on any piece of Billy he could find. His fingers, tugging on worn belt loops and begging for a night on Loch Nora and that dull, exhausted phrase gotta watch my sister sinking a hole in Steve’s hope.

“It’s summer,” Max says after a minute, irritated, “We have an arrangement in the summer. June to Labor Day I do what I want, Billy fucks off for a bit, and we always show up here right when--”

“His car's gone,” Steve says. Because she owes it to him and his months and months of blue balls at her lack of self-preservation. She owes it to Billy.

“His car’s gone because he’s not here, Steve, we just went over this--”

Max moves to slam the door and Steve holds it open, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that spreads through his stomach. “Why are you acting weird?” Steve demands.

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one who’s trying to break into my house because Billy stepped out for five minutes,” Max tugs on the door, groaning dramatically, “C’mon Steve--”

Steve clutches the bouquet of flowers close to his chest. “We’re supposed to go see a movie.”

Max stops pulling on the door, all the attitude cut from her with something dull.

Steve swallows. His nails dig into the palm of his free hand. Steve feels blood swell, but it’s probably just sweat. “Billy. He’s not on a date--”

“Look, Steve,” Max says suddenly, sounding. Much older and wiser than she did five seconds ago. “I like you. You’re cute and dumb but you’re annoyingly sweet and thoughtful. You’re tall, too. You’ve probably failed freshman biology a couple of times.--”

“--I--”

“Shut up,” Max tells him, and Steve swears there’s a bit of green swirling in all that red, embarrassment mixing like watercolor. “Can I be honest with you, Steve?”

Steve nods. He takes his foot from the door jam and rubs his hand on his jeans. Shudders as the feeling in his stomach ebbs and swirls and gets so much worse.

“You’re not his fucking boyfriend,” Max says, and slams the door in his face.

“Well. To be fair, she’s not wrong.”

Steve grips the steering wheel. The leather crackles and squeals with the skin of his palms, giving way to the rumble of the engine when he turns the car onto Park Avenue.

“Jesus,” Eddie snaps, his free hand scrambling to brace against the passenger door while the bouquet teeters dangerously on his lap, “You don’t have to take the turns so fast, Harrington--”

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“--Fucking Evel Kenevil--”

“I mean. I’m practically his boyfriend, right?”

“Sure, and you’ll still be ‘practically his boyfriend,’ even if you drive at the speed limit.”

“Thought you said Max wasn’t talking out of her ass, Munson?”

“Look, I’m allowed to take things minute by minute. I’m just saying,” Eddie tightens the seatbelt against his chest, “You haven’t exactly popped the question.”

“You think Billy’s the kind of guy who--”

“Yeah,” Eddie says casually. “He’s exactly the kind of guy who wants to be asked out. I’ve seen the way he picks flowers and puts them in his own hair when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Steve snorts. “When has he ever done that?”

“We hang out, you know,” Eddie tells him, in lieu of an answer. “When you’re not around, we hang out loads--”

“Maybe you’re Billy’s mystery man,” Steve says only half serious. Mostly joking.

Eddie flushes deep red, “Anyway. This bag of weeds is a good start,” He mumbles, twisting the fat head of a dandelion gently between two fingers.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to unpack any of what that might mean.

They’ve been driving for what feels like hours. The sky has turned hazy, floating in that honey-dipped place between dayglow and starlight. The world will be gold, soon, and then dark. Midnight black.

Hawkins is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair. A shithole. Billy only has a handful of places to hide.

Steve presses a little harder on the gas, knowing in the very pit of himself that this is crazy. This is insane, driving around like a bat out of hell with Eddie Munson, but Billy likes Eddie Munson. Steve tolerates him. And Robin’s at camp, so.

Eddie clutches the door again with another sharp, sudden turn. “Harrington--”

“I’m not dropping you off until I find him.”

“Alright,” Munson grumbles. He lights a cigarette and stares out the window for half a neighborhood block and then says, “How do you know he’s not at home, already?”

Steve grips the steering wheel, convinced Eddie wasn’t listening the first time. “Maxine said--”

“That was an hour ago.”

“Neil doesn’t get off until seven, if Billy’s gone he wont be back until six-thirty at the earliest.”

Eddie checks the dash. “It’s six-thirty now.”

“Do you wanna die today, freak?”

“God, you’re so unpleasant,” Eddie says, handing his cigarette over, anyway, “You’re the worst, actually. Worse than I ever imagined and I’ve imagined it a lot when Billy and Dustin yap their fucking gums about how great you are.”

Steve takes a harsh pull from the cigarette. Coughs and hands it back.

Eddie takes it from him. Ash gathers on the cherry but he’s got no self-awareness.

“If you get ash in my flowers, Munson--”

“Jesus Christ, would you give it a rest? He’s gonna love them. He’ll probably cry, once he’s done beating the shit out of you.”

Silence falls, lurid and uncomfortable, and Steve realizes Munson is watching him. Staring at him,

“This is insane boyfriend behavior, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“So, you admit I’m his boyfriend?” Steve tries weakly, in lieu of what he means. Why Should I Take Advice from You?

“I’m saying this is boyfriend behavior but you won’t be a boyfriend for long, once he finds out what we’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve grits his teeth. “What are we doing that’s so wrong, Munson?”

“Hunting him. Like a couple of crazy fucking bloodhounds.”

“We had a date,” Steve tells Eddie again. For the eightieth time. “Billy’s never missed a date so he’s either dead or dying or riding some other guy’s--”

Eddie bangs his head against the window.

Steve rolls the window down for him if only to protect the integrity of the Beemer. “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I know Billy. And he wouldn’t just disappear without--”

“You’re not his dad,” Eddie tells him, and Steve.

Steve doesn’t have time to get into all the reasons that’s spot -fucking-on. He’s not Billy’s dad, because Steve loves Billy. To his bones and beyond, a little knob of heartache swirling around each nucleus of every atom in the very core of him.

Steve loves Billy so much it gets him into trouble.

Eddie sucks down his smoke again, like, “You’re really doing all this for a missed date?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m just saying,” Eddie shrugs, “I heard stories about you and the Wheeler chick. Seems like she missed a lot of dates at the end and you never did anything like this for her.”

“Billy’s not Nancy. Billy’s not like anyone, he’s--”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, coughing. “You. You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass, you’re serious about him.”

And.

Munson says it like it’s a shock.

Like Steve Harrington’s not capable of loving anything but himself. His hair and his house on the hill and this stupid fucking car and maybe that’s what the losers at Hawkins High think, but they’re wrong.

Way wrong. Stuck four years in the past.

Steve has to bite down against every harsh word on the tip of his tongue, tear the sentences apart and swallow them down because of course he’s worried.

Steve’s worried all the time about a lot of things when it comes to this crush he’s been nursing for a year and a half. Steve worries if Billy sleeps enough, for one. If Neil was in a good mood today. How many new bruises Steve will have to cover with hickies the next time they see each other, paint all that hurt over with something good.

It makes him crazy.

Steve worries all the time if Billy loves him. If actually saying it makes a difference.

Steve wonders most of all how much money and begging it’ll take to get Billy out of that house on Cherry Lane. Steve’s spent many restless nights doing the math in his head, staring at the popcorn ceiling as he imagines taking Billy away from here. And if Steve’s taking Billy home, to the coast, then he’s taking Max, too.

So whatever number, whatever dollar amount Steve’s gotta hoard to make it happen--he’d better take it and multiply it by seven, because. Steve’s going to lasso the moon and give it to Billy in a bouquet of yellow daisies.

If it kills him.

He’s going to find Billy tonight and tell him the truth if it kills him--

“We’ve gone down this street, already,” Eddie says.

“You’re not helping.”

“I'm just pointing out the obvious.”

“And I’m just pointing out--”

“Look, if you care about Billy so much, why don’t you respect his privacy?” Eddie demands. Somewhere, along the way, he ashed his cigarette on the dashboard.

Steve wants to check the flowers.

Can’t find it within himself to be angry about that. “I just want to make sure he’s okay. If something happened to him and I wasn’t there to make it better and figure out how to stop it from happening again--”

“God, you’re such a brownie,” Eddie snaps, turning from the window. “What if he ditched you because he’s not into you anymore, Harrington? What if Billy got tired of waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and stop obsessing over him where no one else can see it? What if he’s sick of being the plaything you fuck in the dark?”

Steve swallows. Feeling so, so small.

“Everyone says you’re a changed man,” Eddie gets closer, somehow. Looms. “What if Billy thinks you’re bullshit?”

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road. In front of them, hazy with the dregs of the afternoon, a coal brown sign announces that Hawkins will soon be a spot on a map left somewhere far, far away.

Everything in that shitty little town hangs over him. Feels so huge. Max and Neil and his parents and graduation and the last month of summer, sitting bigger than the sky.

The engine thrums underneath them and Steve swallows, turning against his seatbelt. “If Billy doesn’t love me,” Steve says, easy and slow, “He can say it to my face.”

Eddie blinks.

Steve can sense the cogs turning, underneath all that hair. Brown like his, curly like Billy’s. “It won’t change how you feel about him?” Eddie asks.

And Steve realizes, like a punch to the gut, that Eddie Munson cares about this.

About Billy.

He’s worried, too, in his own twisted, guard-dog best friend kinda way. It reminds Steve of Robin. Dustin, too, always baring their teeth at Billy because they’re not fully convinced that this thing between them will survive the summer.

That Steve would survive losing this.

He wishes, a deep ache thrumming in his chest, that everyone would either get it or fuck off.

“I love him,” Steve says easily, “Love isn’t something that stops just because the other person’s come to their fucking senses about how much of a loser you are. It isn’t something you say because you want to hear it back. I’ve loved him for a year and a half and I’ll love him even when he realizes I’m not half good enough.”

Eddie smirks. It’s slow and terrible.

“Alright, Harrington,” He leans back in his seat and nods, satisfied. “I think I know where our boy is hiding.”

Duane county used to house to the only mall within a hundred miles until Starcourt.

It’s a small and bustling and annoyingly progressive city, compared to Hawkins, and Steve isn’t the least bit surprised that Billy would run to a place like this to hide for a while.

What surprises him is that Billy knows how to skateboard.

He’s riding the half pipe, so focused on the concrete that laps like waves under the wheels of his long, colorful board that Billy doesn’t notice when the Beemer’s engine cuts and Steve opens the driver’s side door.

Eddie doesn’t move.

“You coming?” Steve asks, frowning when Eddie sparks something too pale and skinny to be a cigarette.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

“You don’t wanna give me your blessing?” Steve wonders, suddenly terrified that Billy won’t go steady with him if he doesn’t see the irritatingly awful face of his best friend giving the thumbs up.

Eddie hands Steve the bouquet. It’s crushed and it smells like dope.

“Billy’s gonna take one look at these sorry fucking flowers and break up with me,” Steve grumbles, his nose scrunching, and.

Eddie smiles at him.

It’s soft and real, and kind of beautiful, and Steve gets why Chrissy Cunningham is apparently head over heels for the guy.

“He loves you, too,” Eddie says, like, “Go on. Quit stalling. Don’t think your big love confession will feel the same if I have told your hand through it.”

Steve slams the door, and Billy floats to the top of the half-pipe with the echo of it. He looks like an angel in the clouds, shirtless with his skin golden in the setting sun, jeans slung low on his hips. The curly, bronze tendrils of hair Steve will always remember the feel of are swooped back in a scrunchie.

Max’s scrunchie.

Billy squints across the parking lot and recognizes Steve, his expression clouding over immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demands.

Steve waddles across the parking lot, “Eddie’s here,” He calls, like an idiot.

“So?” You fucking him now?”

“No, I--”

“What are you doing here, Harrington?”

Steve almost trips over himself, knees with with nerves. Billy does that to him, always. Forever.

The half-pipe is huge up close, looming like the mast of some ancient, terrible ship and Billy is the pirate waiting to throw him overboard. “We had a date,” Steve says.

Out of breath.

Weak.

“I had to get out of that house,” Billy shades his eyes with one hand, holding the long board aloft with his bare foot. He doesn’t say anything for a long, terrible moment and then he says, “Whatcha got there, pretty boy?”

“Flowers,” Steve tells him.

“Flowers,” Billy mocks softly. There’s no bite.

He considers the moment. The Scene. Steve Harrington, with flowers clutched to his chest and the dingy little park beyond that and Eddie Munson, probably, hanging from a cloud of marijuana smoke as the afternoon crashes into nightfall.

As Steve crashes and burns.

Steve holds his breath. Billy glides down the half pipe, seeming to ride on the wind until he comes to a delicate, perfect stop in front of him.

He smells like peaches.

He’s been eating peaches. Billy’s hands are sticky when he grabs the bouquet, and Steve’s skin lights on fire from his touch.

It’s so usual. It’s brand new every time.

“You bought me flowers?” Billy asks, pinning Steve with a clear, vibrant stare.

His eyes are so blue. So beautiful--

“I didn’t buy them, I. I picked them,” Steve says dumbly, “The gardener was going to clear them away, but. I wanted to pick some for our date. I always pick you up on the way but I never bring anything, and I thought. Maybe Neil wouldn’t notice who they were for if it seemed like someone just picked them from a garden. Or the side of the road,” Billy snorts, and Steve nearly breaks an ankle trying to recover, “But I’ve thought about it, and they’re almost out of season, so the gardener--”

“--Right--”

“And. I see them every morning, from my bedroom window, and they remind me of you. Pretty and. Golden, so. I caught the gardener just in time, and i had to pay him $5 to let me pick ‘em before he cleared them away. They’re pretty. Right? I wanted--”

Billy sniffs the daisies first. His eyes close, lashes casting long, noir shadows over the cinnamon freckles on his cheeks and Steve aches to live forever in this moment. To scrape the image into his mind so it can live there, in a house made in Billy’s image.

“Some of these are weeds,” Billy tells him.

“I--”

“Are you in love with me, Harrington?” Billy rubs the petals of one flower with his thumb, watching as the stems knock together. He’s holding the bouquet like it’s made of glass. Like it might shatter and crumble away if he’s not careful, and Steve.

Feels that way about Billy.

“I,” Steve tries again,

“Thanks for the flowers,” Billy says, and he turns to go.

“Wait,” Steve says. Begs. He almost reaches to stop Billy but he doesn’t want to hurt him.

Billy stops. Waits.

Something sharp and fragile sits there, just under the layer of indifference Steve was always too stupide to notice before, but.

“I love you,” Steve says. He sounds strangled. Drowning.

It hurts.

It hurts and it really, really doesn’t when Billy flushes red. “I love you, too.”

And.

Steve’s going to catch on fire at any moment. “You love me,” He repeats, testing the words. He doesn’t trust them to hold his hope. Doesn’t think Billy means it how Steve aches and dreams he does. “You love me, like. How you love Max? Or Eddie? Like a friend who you want to suck off sometimes--”

“Eddie and I are just friends,” Billy says, quickly. His gaze is steady on Steve’s face. “I don’t need anyone else for that, I have. You.”

He does.

He really does.

Billy’s watching Steve like he’s expecting him to say something else, and maybe he is. Has been, for as long as they’ve been sliding inside of each other. Steve was just too dumb to get it before now.

So he straightens his spine. Clears his throat. Says, “Well. I love you like I want to take you on dates. And introduce you to my parents. I want you to go steady with me and wear my letter--”

“We can’t do that sort of stuff, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Well, then, why’d you say it?”

“Because it’s what I want,” Steve snaps. Like, “You’re so annoying.”

“It was your idea,” Billy smirks. It’s beautiful. It’s Steve’s second favorite thing, second only to his laugh. And the soft curve of his lips. Billy fiddles with one of the weeds and says, “You don’t even have a letter to give me.”

“Neither do you, asshole,”

“So now what?” Billy demands, his arms flaring wide, “You’re gonna say you want to go steady with me and we’re not gonna do it? Tease.”

Steve rolls his eyes to the heavens, grumbling as they plop wetly on the sun-warmed earth. Billy’s still barefoot and Steve wonders how his toes aren’t burning. “How are your toes not burning?” He demands.

“They are,” Billy tells him, annoyed.

And then.

Steve gets an idea.

He sits on the ground and pulls both shoes off.

“What are you doing?” Billy snaps, but Steve can hear a smile in his voice, curling tendrils through the teasing annoyance that has made him so different from anyone Steve has ever loved before. “Steve--”

“Here,” Steve says, standing to hold the shoes out in front of him. He hops from one foot to the other as his heels start to burn.

Billy stares at the Nike’s as if they’re coiled snakes. Like if he takes them, they’ll burrow under his toenails and poison him from the inside out. “I don’t get it--”

“I don’t have a letter, but. People might see you in them and get it, right? When has anyone ever seen Billy Hargrove in a pair of Nike’s?”

Billy blinks, confused.

“You’re mine,” Steve says. “So they’re yours. Take them,”

Billy considers him for a long moment and then sets the bouquet on the ground. “Wait here,” He says, and skates off around the bend in the half pipe.

Steve’s feet are on fire.

He’s hopping dramatically, and in the distance he can hear Eddie laughing, and Steve’s going to kill him, but then.

Billy’s back and he’s holding his boots in his hands. “Here,” He says, “Eye for an eye, right?”

And Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips into the worn leather, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable they are. His feet thank him, the raging fire finally simmering.

Steve watches Billy.

The careful way his fingers lace the Nike’s onto his feet. How his hips shift his weight when he stands. Billy walks in a slow, timid circle, “Shit, Harrington,” He says thickly, “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, before.”

“Think we’ll be any good at it?” Billy asks. He squats deeply, popping back up with a wide, beautiful smile planted pretty as a forest on his face.

It beams itself, magically, onto Steve’s. Startles a bright, hysterical laugh from somewhere deep inside of him.

“You’re perfect,” Steve says. Nothing has ever felt more true.

#harringrove #clothes sharing #fluff #love confessions

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444rockstargf · 20 days

Note

ive never made a request before im a bit nervy omg

but could u maybe do smth about like a sweet innocent little y/n meeting euro (or maybe even kappa) and he just wants to ruin her innocence and make her a total whore for him (maybe slight undertones of cnc IF youre comfortable with that)

K IM NERVOUS TY

don't be nervous, anon! thank you so much for reaching out & sharing your ideas!

"said i was flawless, true perfection." | euronymous

ridin'. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly @oliviah-25 @lankysimp@auggiethecreator @livingdead-materialgirl @monkeyfart@imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x r!euronymous

word count: 1.7k

contents: blowjob, public sex, masturbation

who the hell thought it would be a good idea to sell lana del rey vinyls in a black metal record store?

business at the shop had been slow. euronymous sat behind the cashier, lighting himself a cigarette as the clock neared noon. he sighed deeply, putting his feet on the desk as he took the tv remote, flipping through channels mindlessly. he’d figured to take his break a little early. it didn’t seem like anyone was planning on showing up anyway.

the sun outside shone just a little too bright. euronymous groaned, standing up and making his way to the window to close the blinds. he peeked outside through the glass, the streets nearly empty with the exception of the occasion person strolling by. he grumbled, closing the shutters and rubbing a stressed hand over his face. he needed to make a sale, even if it was only one. all he needed was an angel from heaven to stroll by…

the bell above the door chimed, snapping euronymous out of his train of thoughts. “we’re off for break, man. come back in an hour.” he muttered. you froze in your tracks, raising an eyebrow. you cleared your throat and he glanced over at you. “i said get los-” he finally locked eyes with you, seeing a woman instead of his usual audience.

his eyes were wide with shock as they travelled down your body. you were just about the furthest thing from death metal he’d ever seen walk into the shop. it’s not like you were adorned in pastel rainbows, but he’d never expect someone like you to show up at a store like this.

he cleared his throat, walking back behind the desk as you began to stroll through the shop. “i don’t think we have the type of music you listen to, lady?” already at the section for the artist you were looking for, you looked at him. “you sure? cuz i think i see what i need right here.” you rolled your eyes, starting to flip through different albums as euronymous glared at you.

this new sale was already attracting all the wrong types of people. you looked like a doll, one meant to be used and destroyed by a ruthless owner. not wandering through a black metal store like it was your second home. silence filled the environment, much to your comfort but it made euronymous very uncomfortable. he’d been used to cracking conversations with whoever walked through the door, but he didn’t know how to go about that with you.

after taking a deep breath, he spoke. “everything going okay over there?” his words were forced, but you looked back at him with a smile. “going just fine, thanks.” your sweet words had a bite to them, like you were mocking him for something. he found himself getting intrigued about a person he had met less than a minute ago.

after what felt like an eternity, you picked 5 vinyls and took them to the cashier. you set them down in front of him, you two now less than a foot apart. he glanced at you as he rang up your items. “you come to places like this often, doll?” you swallowed hard, shaking your head. he added up the total before reading it out to you. “your total will be $401.59.” your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “400 dollars?! i don’t have that kind of money on me!” you bent over to read the total off his screen, your tight dress slipping down your chest slowly and revealing your cleavage to him.

your breasts waved right in front of his eyes and his breath grew shallow. your arousing scent filled his nostrils. he squirmed slightly in his seat, heart hammering in his chest. you were almost completely revealing your tits to him compeltely by accident. he had only know you for a few minutes and was already getting a taste of how naive you were.

his gaze bored into your chest until you stood upright again, picking at your fingernails. “i-i had no idea that these would be so expensive…” euronymous clasped his hands over his lap, a boner already sprouting underneath. “well you’ve gotta pay for them one way or another, lady.” he paused, a sinister idea brewing in his mind. “i’d hate to get the cops involved in our business.”

your heart stopped for a second as you frantically shook your hea.d “n-no, of course not…” you sighed deeply, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. you looked right into his cold eyes, speaking so softly that he could barely hear you. “p-please, find it in your heart to help me out. i’ll… i’ll do anything…” that line alone was the perfect telltale of how much porn you watched, but maybe euronymous was the clueless one for not picking up on your obvious hints.

you fiddled with the thin chain aorund your neck, pouting slightly as his pupils dilated. he stood up from his seat with a small grin, extending his hand to you. “let’s step into my office, sweetheart. then we can talk business.” you nodded, taking his cold, pasty hand in yours as he walked you into the small room behind him, locking the door.

he looked at you right in your cartoon eyes, your face resembling one of a make-believe character that was too good to be true. he leaned against his personal desk, beckoning you to come closer to him. ou stood right infront of him, his arm slowly slithering around your waist. he spoke in a whisper, eyes locked on your nipples that barely poked out through your dress.

“you want those records real bad, don’t you?” you nodded, chest rising and falling slowly as you took deep reaths. his smile turned slightly sadistic as he pulled you into him, his breath hitting the cave of your ear. “then i’m going to make you work for it, whore…” you almost choked as euronymous grabbed the neck of your dress, tugging it down and making your tits pop out.

your gasped, your pierced nipples painfully erect. he kneaded your bugs between his fingers, making your knees go weak, much to his pleasure. the boner he had been fighting all this while was roaring to be let out, a mess of precum already spilling in his black jeans. “get on your knees, bitch.” you went down without protest, your face an inch away from his bulge. he grabbed the back of your head, bringing your lips to it and making you kiss him through the fabric, a low groan escaping his lips.

his dick throbbed and tiwtched through the denim, his body instantly reacting to your indirect touch. “tell me you want this cock, doll… say it.” you swallowed hard, gazing up at him trough your eyelashes as you spoke hoarsely. “i-i want your cock, sir…” you didn’t know what to address him as, so you went with the best choice. he smiled, his hand moving to unbuckled the weapon of a belt that was around his thin waist.

the metal clanged to the ground. he unbuttoned his jeans, biting his lip as his cock sprung out and slapping the base of his stomach, nearly hitting you in the face. you flinched, mouth gaping open. “i-it’s so big…” you whispered, making him chuckle. “and you’re gonna take every inch of it, you hear me?” you nodded, feeling a soaking sensation spreading in your panties.

he gave himself a few lazy pumps, connecting the tip with your lips. you opened you mouth slightly, not enough for him to fit himself in. he grabbed your jaw, forcing it open all the way before shoving himself all the way in. you gagged eyes welling with tears as he grabbed the side of your head.

he put on a fake pout. “aw, too big for you, angel?” his arrogance was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, but you let him have it. a deal was a deal. one you adjusted to his size, you slowly began to bob your head up and down his shaft, gazing up at him with shiny eyes. his core heated up as he listened to your lewd gagging and gurgling.

“you’re a natural, you nasty bitch…” his eyes shaded like a lust-filled haze, as if you were the only thing in the world right now. your hands felt completely useless in this whole ordeal, so you reach one underneath your dress, starting to touch yourself through your panties. you moaned softly, the vibrations feeling like pure bliss to him.

his hair feel into his face as profanities slurred out from him. he slammed his cock into your throat, not even lettinig you get a breath of air. but the pleasure outweighed the discomfort for you, your fingers coating in your liquids as you slipped your panties to the side. he noticed this in an instant, his voice growing shaky. “y-yeah… touch yourself for me, you slut…”

you used your other hand to fondle his balls as they slapped against your chin. his tip repeatedly rammed into your uvula, the slaty taste of his precum making your throat convulse around him. he used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks. he forcefully fucked your face as you fingered yourself even quicker. his cock abosrbed your moans like a sponge, the feeling being better than anything he’d ever felt.

his moans becamemore intense and more frequent as the warmth of your throat took him in like a blanket. time began to go elastic as euronymous felt the pleasure getting to his head. the sound of your gurgling was intoxicating. you swirled your tongue around his girth, finally pushing him to the edge. he bit his lip, drawing blod as he whipped himself out of your mouth and shot his cum onto your tits like he was frositng a cake.

you panted as he the string s his you, a smile growing on your face. “such a dirty girl…” you licked his tip, cleaning off the last bit of cum and finishing him off. his breath was heavy like he just ran a marathon. you stood back up, tucking your tits back into your dress and trying not to ruin it with his cum.

euronymous slowly tucked his cock back into his pants, fixing up his hair as the sound of customers reminded him of where he was. he cleared his throat, looking at you deeply. “it was a pleasure doing business with you ma’am. enjoy the records, completely free of charge.”

author's note: back to shcool tomorrow :((

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #euronymous #lords of chaos #r!euronymous #eurorory #euronymous rory culkin #euronymous smut #eurory #asap rocky #a$ap rocky #lana del rey

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bloompompom · 6 months

Text

Hold the Sugar

♡ content: ~ 900 word count. boyfriend!eren, modern au, domestic & fluffy goodness ♡ a/n: i can't help that cabin eren has me feeling soft

It was the first chilly day of the year; you could tell the moment you went to open the windows that morning, and the panes made the tips of your fingers tingle. Cold enough to keep them shut for the day, you decided, but not quite enough to kick on the heat for the season. The kind of day that was perfect for fuzzy socks and firing up the oven.

You didn’t plan on leaving the apartment even once, but you had already decided that earlier—ask Eren. Last night, while brushing your teeth together, you told him exactly that in a spitty, garbled voice. He laughed, had to cover his mouth so he didn’t spray you, and said he had no idea what you said. When he finally understood after you rinsed, he told you it sounded perfect, that he could use a lazy day, too.

There was no way you could switch up the plan now, so scouring the pantry would have to do. Based on what you had on hand and spread across the counter—which wasn’t much—that meant sugar cookies.

Eren must have heard all your clattering because he popped by not long after you’d set out the mixing bowl and started searching for where you had last put the whisk.

Of course, he wanted to join, and who were you to say no? Even if the last time, he convinced you to let him crack an egg with one hand, claiming he had seen it enough times on TV, and wound up with a hand drenched in yolk and a batter full of shells. That was the one condition you had set before he even stepped foot into the kitchen.

To your surprise, the two of you managed to make something that actually resembled cookie dough. Eren had just finished mixing it, and you slid the bowl over to knead it into a ball to roll out.

Then, you realized you had spoken too soon because when you pinched a bite for yourself, as always, you immediately gagged into your hand.

Eren’s eyes shot wide open. His voice pitched higher with denial. “No, stop! It can’t be that bad!”

You looked from the wad in your hand to your boyfriend. “Eren, what did you do?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, more panicked than before. He reached for the recipe you had printed out and scanned over it. “I followed every step, I swear.”

“Try it.”

He recoiled from the unsavory bite that was still residing in your hand. “It was already in your mouth!”

You clicked your tongue, then clarified, “From the bowl.”

“No way! Not after that.”

You sighed and went to wash your hands. As you towel-dried them, you examined the messy counter, painted in layers of flour now, and tried to figure out where he went wrong. It didn’t take long for your eyes to fall on two clear containers, sat right beside one another, both white. You could tell the difference, but Eren…

“Did you use salt instead of sugar?” you asked.

He pulled a face. “Do you really think I’m that big of an idiot?”

“Okay, then show me which one you used,” you said, ticking your head toward the containers.

Eren glanced from one to the other. He did it a few more times and didn’t answer right away. He knew he had a fifty-fifty shot at getting this right, telling you the answer you were hoping to hear, even if he had no clue.

The small lapse had you filling in the blanks. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“No,” he groaned.

You smiled at him, tight-lipped so you didn’t laugh—well, you didn’t laugh that hard. After your giggles subsided, you turned off the pre-heating oven, scrapped the dough in the trash, and set the bowl in the sink to clean.

“We’re not going to remake it?” Eren questioned.

“That was our last egg.” As you said it, he already had on that face he got whenever he felt bad. “It’s fine, I promise. I just wanted to use up the ingredients we had before they went bad.”

“I’ll just run to the—”

“Wait, we’re having a lazy day!” you reminded.

Eren was already out of the kitchen, his arm in one of his jacket sleeves. “I got it, don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

You sighed in defeat. If you didn’t let him go, you were sure he’d think about it for the rest of the day. You watched him put on his shoes as you told him, “Just don’t take too long.”

He smiled in acknowledgment and headed toward the front door. Before he reached for the handle, he spun around like he had forgotten something.

He did. Eren came back to give you a soft peck on the lips. His face was still an inch from yours, but you could see his smile. “One more time.” Then you kissed him again. “One more?”

“Go.” You gave him a playful push on the shoulder. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back.”

He kissed you again anyway. “Love you—and sorry.”

“They’re just cookies,” you assured him.

Eren was back by the door when he turned around again. His tongue poked out with a quick swipe over his lips. “Yeah, I definitely used salt.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff

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mystar-girl57 · 1 year

Text

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Dealer Ellie x Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Your girlfriend needs to back off - wc 1.9k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : cheating, sad Ellie, reader panicking and lashing out, mentions of violence in the past, angst, vomit, panic attack

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 : ngl the intro to this chapter sucks

“Baby wait I can explain!”

Ellie's pleads fell on deaf ears as she struggled to follow you down the hallway. It was like a scene in a movie when the wife walked in and caught her husband sleeping with her best friend. They skipped the screaming to bit and gone straight to the running away part. Ellie knew that if you got to the fire escape you'd be gone for good.

"Just listen to me." Ellie grabbed hold of your wrist and jerked you back around manhandling you in the midst of her desperation. You struggled to get away but Elle’s grip was tight on your wrist, red marks from her fingerprints forming. You knew your girlfriend’s anger, you had seen it second hand. When someone would look at you wrong or say a homophobic slur towards you (or anyone for that matter) Ellie’s unbridled rage would show and it was all you could do for you to pull her back so the cops wouldn’t come.

Now you stood here in this empty hallway, no drunken crowd around Ellie and her victim to be seen. Just you and her, and this time it looked like you were on the receiving end of her fist. Ellie raised her hand to cup your face but out of fear of the moment you didn’t understand her intentions. You stamped down on her foot causing Ellie to reel away from the pain.

Once she let go, you jogged down the hall and stopped at the fire escape, one foot already out the door. You took a moment to look back at the girl, your woman, your lover. Her emerald eyes were glossy with tears. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t find the words. Ellie knew that this is what she deserved as she watched you slip through the door and it shut with a sickening click.

The auburn haired girl’s knees felt weak and to keep herself from falling she sat down in the middle of the hallway. Her bedroom door creaked open and she twisted around to see the blonde, Seline, standing there. She wore only the pink panties she had on last night and Ellie’s oversized NASA Tee. Your t-shirt you would joke. Anytime you would stay the night or even just come over for a smoke and do homework you would wear it. Ellie loved to see you in it.

“Is everything alright?” Seline cooed, her surgery sweet voice making Ellie want to hurl. What had she done.

The next few days went by in a blur for you. The moment you got back to your dorm the door slammed behind you and did your best to contain the screams and sobs that threatened to rip from your throat. But your attempts were futile because the moment that Jesse and Dina came over to you, Jesse rubbing your back and Dina cupping your face you broke.

Ellie had tried to reach out to you through any means possible. Through text or the few social medias that she had. She even came to the dorm herself but any time she knocked either Jesse answered shooing her away or if he was gone you’d just ignore it.

You hated this. You did. You didn’t like to live in isolation. When you made it to college one of the big things you said you’d work on was trying to keep yourself from slipping into self isolation. But with avoiding Ellie through just going to classes, some online, some in person and then going straight home you started to fall into that old routine again. Thankfully Jesse started to notice and he (with the help of Dina) tried to get you back out.

“I don’t see why we’re doing this.” You huffed trudging behind the tall man. After much begging and other dramatic antics Jesse had finally convinced you to come out and get some coffee with him. You didn’t even like coffee, that’s how you and Ellie started to bond. Over your hate for the popular bitter drink. “Well we agreed that if you won’t even show up to work with me you’d at least come out and get something to eat and drink with me. Besides, Dina wants to sleep and she said its too awkward between her and Ellie for her to sleep.

That wave of sadness rippled through you. That was another thing, Dina and Ellie. Those two were close like you and Jesse and with Ellie cheating things had become tense.

Jesse stepped in front of you, pushing the class door open for you. The little little bell chimed and you stepped inside. It was a little homey hole in the wall cafe called Jitters that you had seen only in passing but never took the time to walk in. You noticed a worker coming to the window beside you and tearing off a flyer. Before he crumpled it up you saw the words “HIRING - BARISTA NEEDED.” “I guess they found their barista.” You muttered trailing Jesse to the front.

There were two workers standing behind the bar, it looked like one was coaching the other. From where you stood you could tell the one being taught was a woman, her auburn hair tied back into a bun which was pushed through the hole of her cap. Her hair had little flyaways and you knew that she wasn’t the best with her hair.

The one coaching happened to turn around and noticed you and Jesse. His tag read “Allan :)” and he quickly turned back around to the employee in training. Allan whispered something to her and she tensed up but after a few words of encouragement she nodded and turned around a smile on her face.

But when she turned your face went pale and her smile dropped, the cup on her hands falling to the floor and shattering, the hot coffee burning both her and Allan. “Ellie!” Allan hissed hopping on one foot but she was too in shock to care, she just stood there open mouthed.

That feeling of panic and unease set in as you slowly started to back away from the counter and head for the door. Ellie called your name but it only made you wince and run faster. Once you got outside you doubled over throwing up. Your breaths were short and shallow, so many thoughts and scenarios rushed through your brain. Jesse ran out after you and looked left and right to see where you went. When he found you he instantly felt guilty and pulled your hair back until your vomiting had ceased.

“I am so sorry,” Jesse whispered as you coughed up the last of the acid reflux and wiped your mouth with your sleeve. It was gross but you could wash it later. “I had no idea she would be in there.” He sighed helping you stand. You raised your hand to stop his rambling so you could speak. “It’s okay Jess.” You promised looking up at him with weak eyes. “I had no idea she’d be there either. She hates coffee, that's the last place she’d want to work.” You shook your head. “Let’s just get out of here before I get sick again.” You mumbled feeling more trying to come

It was late when you looked up from your essay. The little analogue clock sitting on your night stand showed that it was about 2:29 a.m.. Jesse and Dina had gone out around 11:00 p.m. saying there was some frat party down the street and there was talk of the house having a huge pool that they were going to use to make a ball pit or whatever drunken idea they came up with. You were invited but you thought it would be best to stay back since you needed to catch up on homework. Or that's what you had said to Dina and Jesse. In truth, all your homework was turned in to your professors by 1:00 a.m. and there was still enough time for you to get ready to go, but you knew who would be there if you showed up.

Your phone vibrated beside you and you grabbed it with a sigh. As it turned on and unlocked once it recognized your face you tried to ignore the change in background. Your wallpaper was now an image of you and Jesse at the fine dining restaurant that you worked together, glad in your black pants and white shirts, your suit vests buttoned up and your red ties fixed to perfection. The poses that you were in was the two of you pretending to be in an epic battle armed with only spatulas. That was also the place you had met Ellie at. Joel had come for a visit and the two picked the restaurant that was further from their personalities. While the two were making snide comments on how rich tasting the place was you came over ready to take their orders. Ellie was so in shock by you that come time for you to take her drink order she was too busy gawking at you that she blurted out “you.”

You smiled slightly at the memory, remembering how embarrassed she had been but by the time she and Joel walked out your number was saved to her phone with a little red heart.

But getting back to the task at hand, why you had looked at your phone you swiped the screen down to find you had a new message from Jesse.

J: You comin? They actually made the pool into a fucking ball pit!

Y: maybe some other time Jess, I got so much homework

J: You and I both know that’s a lie. You’re just avoiding her.

J: if it makes you feel better, that blonde is here

Y: why would that make me feel better.

J: Ellie isn’t though.

You read the message over and over. Ellie wasn’t there? Famous weed dealer Ellie mother fucking Williams was not at the biggest party on the street? That was such a cash grab party! You sucked on your bottom lip and leaned back looking at the ceiling. Something was going on. You had the urge to go but if that broad was there you knew hell would ensue between the two of you.

Giving your back a good pop over the back of the chair you stood up and stretched your arms over your head, a whiny yawn sounding from your throat. You slipped out of your leggings and threw on one of Ellies old band tees. The once black now sun bleached fabric fell down over your shoulders, stopping just below the curve of your hips leaving your legs exposed. Thankfully Jesse was no perv so you felt comfortable enough to sleep in just your tee-shirt and black panties.

But as you pulled the comforter back a loud knock rapped against your front door. You stood there for a few moments and it sounded again. Coming out of your room and heading to the door a smirk graced your face.

You put your hand on the knob and twisted it. “You can’t keep giving all your keys to Dina Jess.” The door swung open and it wasn’t Jesse standing there. Hearing the door’s crack, your visitor turned around.

“Hey Pretty girl.” She greeted nervously.

🏷️ @lilli-gabi378

#Ellie Williams #ellie williams angst #Ellie Williams x fem reader #Ellie Williams x female reader #Ellie Williams tlou #Ellie Williams x tlou2 #tlou #tlou2 #Ellie Williams fic #Ellie Williams oneshot #ellie williams x reader

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anzulvr · 5 months

Note

Hii!! Can you do karma with a s/o that's rly quiet but ends up being good with kids??

Karma x Reader whose Good with kids // fluff GN! Reader

This all begins when E class gets themselves into deep trouble. Attempting to train on rooftops while studying for midterms, what they thought was a genius idea doesn't go as planned. Okajima and Kimura jump down and fall on top of an elderly man riding his bike. The old man is hospitalized for a broken foot. He ends up being the caretaker of multiple kids at a daycare he runs, Karasuma goes to talk to the man on behalf of his students-apologizing with flowers and all.

Korosensei orders the entire class to volunteer at the daycare and take the elderly man's place while he rests his leg to teach everyone about helping those who are weaker and those they’ve wronged.

Okay yeah, Korosensei was pissed- Karasuma just spent 20 minutes bargaining and apologizing to the rightfully angered old man and the class was filled with regret, shame and dread for the hard work that was coming. You on the other hand were secretly hyped! You loved taking care of kids, their cute little faces never failed to give you baby fever.

Even though you and Karma werent personally involved in the training scheme you still had to participate as it was a class effort.

The days of volunteering roll around and each day progress is made.

Everyone has a job to do, Some of your classmates are helping the kids study others are in charge of nap time and many are cleaning the space and fixing the building up.

You look over to a group of kids entranced with a theater show Karma, Terasaka and Okuda are putting on for them.

You catch yourself staring at Karma for too long, and bring your focus back towards your job;

You’re in charge of looking after the kids when they’re doing activities, (everything is in rotations for smaller groups)

Your current group is painting and drawing to their hearts content.

You notice one of the kids, Jiro, seems really upset, His eyes are getting watery. You crouch down to his level and ask him what’s wrong.

“My drawing— looks bad, I can’t draw good!” He speaks through the hiccups that slice his sentences up, now the tears are flowing down his cheeks completely.

“Don’t say that… You’re so talented Jiro, I want one of your drawings for myself!”

You ruffle his hair and he starts laughing through his tears, “You’re not lying?”

“Of course not, you’re drawings are my favorite thing ever!”

“Really?! I can draw one for you to take home!”

“The great artist Jiro will make me a drawing? Thank you Jiro you’re the best!”

Jiro rushes back to his seat with a smile on his face ready to start a new drawing as a present for you.

Michi raises her hand, "[Name] look!! I drew you!"

"Awe! I love it thank you Michi, you’re so sweet!"

She nods as she points to the second stick figure on her paper, "Look! I drew Karma because he's your best friend right?"

"Yeah he is-" You're cut off, startled by someone’s voice you turn to look and there he is.

"I'm just your best friend?" He feigns disappointment, you laugh and shove his shoulder gently.

You point at her drawing and back at him as a show of comparison "That looks just like him- you're so attentive to detail Michi!"

"I don't know what that means but thanks!" She skips back to her seat overjoyed with the praise.

Karma turns back to face you,

"Who knew you were this good with kids, it hasn't even been a full week and you're already their favorite- after me, they love me more."

You smile "You wish! Honestly I'm not surprised you're good with them, you have a fun personality, but anyway how'd the play go?"

"It went great, they're Kayanos problem now. I’ve been wanting to come over to you- just couldn’t.”

“I know, I can’t believe we’re on opposite sides of the room!”

“Can’t believe you’re still alive, clingy.”

“Shut up I caught you glancing at me every few minutes. You should focus more on your performance.”

“Hey my point still stands, if you caught me it means you were looking too!”

“I wanted to see how the story played out.”

“Righttt, rate my acting on a scale from 1 to Karma.”

“I’d give you a 9, just cause the outfit was cute.”

“Not bad, where’d the last point go?”

“You’re acting sucked-” you pressed your lip in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to come out.

He scoffed putting his arm around you, “You should do it with me! Tomorrow were doing sleeping beauty, all you have to do is sleep while I smack Terasaka with a plastic sword.”

“Sounds like fun, but I wanna see Terasaka getting hit— can’t do that with my eyes closed.”

“If you do it I’ll ask someone to film it so you can watch later, and more importantly I get to wake you up with a forehead kiss.”

“Alright then, the video convinced me.”

“You sure it wasn’t the kiss?”

“Maybe a little.”

A child’s shout brings your attention back onto your job “[NAMEE]! Michi spilled paint on me!”

Michi stands up “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!”

Restful moments with Karma couldn’t last forever but even the noisy ones you appreciated wholeheartedly, now you’d clean up the colorful mess together.

note: sorry for any errors in the writing pls correct me if you catch any <3! sorry this is late still have many rq to go through!

#akabane x reader #assasination classroom #karma x reader #akabane karma #ansatsu kyoushitsu x reader #korosensei #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assassination classroom x reader #reader x karma #karma akabane #karma akabane x reader #karmaakabanexreader #eclass #endclass

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masonreds · 7 months

Text

mason mount x reader

summary: I don’t think I need to say much for this

word count: 4,8k words

There is no doubt that walking along the golf course was a marathon in itself. As you attempted to keep up with your boyfriend, Mason, walking ahead of you with much more energy than you had, you let out a deep sigh of frustration as you tried to keep up with him. You had somehow convinced him that having a golf date would be a good date for you, despite the fact that you were not interested in golf and had never played it.

‘C’mon Y/N, we’re almost there!’ Mason called out.

Having to walk to each of the holes was exhausting enough without having to walk to the top of a hill to get to each hole as well. You rolled your eyes, not being able to understand why a golf course was almost on top of a hill. ‘We couldn’t have, I don’t know, gone to the cinema or something that didn’t require working out? The Nun 2 just come out I think.’

‘Sitting inside of a dark room for an hour or so, when it’s a beautiful day? And you know I don’t like horror movies, it makes me sweat.’

‘Well I’m about to sweat walking up this godamn hill,’ you snarked, a light blush coming to your face as Mason gave you a playful warning glare at your attitude.

This definitely wasn’t that kind of date but it was hard to ignore the throbbing of your clit; and the polo shirt that hugged Mason’s torso perfectly, showing off his muscular build and his tattoos showing was exactly helping your problem.

‘I’d rather kick a ball than hit one with a heavy golf club.’

‘I can’t imagine you playing football,’ Mason chuckled, remembering the time he tried to teach you one his football tricks and you kept getting it wrong.

‘I’m saying hypothetically, to get me out of this and it might stop me from embarrassing myself.’

‘You do that enough already,’ Mason smirked, giving you a soft kiss on your temple as you rolled your eyes, ‘is this pick on Y/N day or something?’ He laughed it off as he grabbed the gold club and started to get into action. Seeing his muscles flex as swung the golf club, god, you could feel yourself soaking your underwear, you might just have to take him right there on the golf course. You flinched as he snapped his fingers in front of your face to snap you out of your trance, his amused face causing you to scowl lightly. ‘Enjoying the view, darling?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ You huffed, trying to come off more teasing but it was clear as day that you were too flustered to do anything.

‘It’s your turn. Hey, if you ever make a hole in one swing, I might just let you best me at football,’ he whispered in your ear as he handed you your club, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You rolled your eyes as you snatched the golf club out of his hand a little too harshly, smirking when Mason gave you an amused look.

It seemed easy enough, just swing and hit the ball. Couldn’t be that hard, right? Well you were quickly disproven by his much the ball went into the wrong direction you wanted it to go. Instead of going straight like you wanted, it swayed to the left. You hoped it was just the wind. You would just have to try again and hope for the best. You hugged in annoyance as you swung the club and completely missed the ball, only managing to violently remove a clump of grass. You bit your lip when you heard Mason sniggering behind your back, definitely watching you fail at a simple game with an amused grin on his stupidly handsome face. ‘This is impossible. How do you make it look so easy?’ Lightly stomping your feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

‘Here,’ Mason sighed, walking over to you, ‘let me help you.’

Positioning himself behind you, you tried not to shiver as his hands slowly travelled down your arms until they positioned themselves to cover their own, grasping gently. You could feel goosebumps rise all over your body as you felt his steady breathing on your neck, looking over your shoulder with ease. ‘Now you’ll need to pivot your right foot as swing, like this-‘ He pushed your right heel out with his own foot, guiding your arms and body to twist with him as he made you swing the club. ‘It’s simple really, just takes technique and practice.’ And he pulled all away too soon, his warmth leaving your back as he took a few steps back and motioned you to try it without his help this time.

After having him so close to you, you were surprised how you were even standing straight. How were you supposed to focus now? The feeling of his pelvis brushed up against your ass still echoed in your mind and you found yourself wanting to feel that again, and even more. Though you tried your best and swung, the club connected with the ball but your swing was too weak, the ball rolling down the grassy hill. ‘Well, that was a…start,’ Mason chuckled.

‘Oh shut it, Mount,’ you quipped, quickly making your way down the hill, not looking back to see his mocking smile.

‘Maybe I should’ve started you in the beginners course.’

You scowled. ‘Isn’t that for children?’

‘Yeah,’ he smiled

After finding the ball, you dreaded making a fool of yourself more than you already had, so you decided to do what you do best: flustering your boyfriend. ‘Can you guide me one more time? Just so I don’t accidentally hit the ball into the water.’ You chuckled, hiding a mischievous smirk. Always such a gentleman. You took a deep breath as he moved to stand right behind you and resumed the same position he had you in previously, your heart pounding, hoping that he won’t reject what you had planned for him.

You heard Mason inhale sharply as you wiggled your hips against his pelvis, his grip on your hands tightening. ‘What do you think you’re doing, darling?’ He asked darkly, the tone that made you ache for him more. You said nothing as you responded to his question with another wiggle of your hips, pushing back harder against him. ‘And here I genuinely thought you wanted me to help you,’ Mason grunted.

‘Who says I dont?’ You replied seductively, straightening your spine and turning your heard to whisper in his ear. ‘I just want you to help me in a different way,’ Mason’s heavy sigh turning against your shoulder.

‘You know we’re in public, right?’

‘Yes, and?’

‘You want to risk someone seeing me fucking you senselessly?’ You gasped when Mason gripped your waist tightly, suddenly turning you around in his hold. ‘You’d like that though, wouldn’t you? You want someone to see how good I make you feel, don’t you? Is that it, darling?’ You could already feel his erection pressing against your leg, the knowledge that you could make him so hungry for you so easily made you feel lightheaded, your knees threatening to buckle.

‘Yes.’ You managed to whisper out breathlessly.

You gasped as Mason suddenly connected his lips with yours, stealing the breath from your lungs from the feeling of his urgency, how desperate he was to feel all of you and you were just as needy. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass through your skirt, eliciting a satisfied groan from you. ‘Oh darling, if you wanted me this badly you could’ve just said so,’ he teased moving your underwear to the side and running his fingers through your slippery folds, biting his lip at the feeling. ‘I want to taste you,’ he spoke quickly.

You both wandered for a few minutes until Mason asked around because you didn’t want to get caught out in the open, a kind staff member pointing you towards a hall and saying how the bathroom was just at the end of it. Once you were both alone again, Mason suddenly stopped in his tracks just as you both reached the hallway.

You both rushed into the bathroom, Mason’s lips met yours in haste, trailing down your jaw until he reached your neck, your head tilting instinctively to provide him better access. His lips were heavy, to his hot as he sucked on your sweet spots, alternating from kissing and nipping, hard enough to earn low moans from you, but careful not to leave any marks on you.

‘You are quite courageous, aren’t you, angel?’ In order to force you down into his thigh, he murmured against your skin while his hands found your hips. He held you tightly to keep you perfectly motionless, without allowing you even the slightest comfort, and you whimpered when he flexed his muscles just once to be a tease. You were so enthused that you felt like your heart was nearly pounding against his thigh. ‘Don't get me wrong, I'm proud you're finding your confidence,’ Mason murmured before darkly chuckling at your neediness and lightly biting the area behind your ear. ‘But you need to learn when and where you’re going to show this devilish side of yours.’

He pulled your hands away from him, his fingers grasping your wrist as he pinned them to the wall, one on each side of your head, the marble cold against your burning skin. Mason's hoarse growl drowned out your whimper when he began rubbing himself into your hip. You could feel just how hard he was already, and it only made you want him more.

‘Can you see what you're doing to me?’ He mumbled, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he continued to grind his hips into you, his thigh flexing in the process and brushing over your clit. ‘Fuck, I didn't even know you had it in you, angel.’

With your mouth working faster than your brain, you retorted,

‘Well, the devil was once an angel.’

Mason suddenly bit your neck, his warm tongue gliding over the spot soon after, kissing it for a moment before he stilled and backed away, only slightly, so he could meet your gaze.

His brown eyes were lustful, the dark shade a tiny contrast to the way his cheeks were powdered crimson, but the colour of his skin matched the pink of his swollen lips perfectly. His hair was a mess and his jawline chiselled from the way he clenched it.

‘You sure you want it rough?’

‘Wouldn't have done everything I did today to rile you up if I wasn't,’ you confessed, almost breathlessly when Mason brought his right hand up, eyes never leaving yours.

With a soft sigh, you opened up for him, Mason slipping his fingers in with a low hum, carefully pushing deeper, eyes looking through yours for any signs of protest to which he found none.

Then again, this wasn't the first time his fingers found their way inside your mouth.

When you started to swirl your tongue around them, his eyes lowered to your lips, his focus trained on the way you were taking them in almost at the knuckles, a low murmur reverberated on the back of his throat.

‘Given the circumstances, I'm only giving you a taste of it for now,’ he murmured, his other hand holding your face firmly, thumb caressing your cheek tenderly. With a nod, you hummed around his fingers, Mason's gaze finally meeting yours as he chuckled.

He pressed his fingers down, imitating the weight of his cock when it's on your tongue. Your eyelids fluttered close, murmuring to yourself, merely enjoying the sensation of your mouth being full as you began to suck. Mason groaned deeply and jerked his hips, slamming his firm length into your hip as he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth.

‘Fuck, the things I'm going to do to you when we get back home,’ Mason pondered, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest as you whimpered around his digits, watching how you tried to press your thighs together only to be blocked by his strong one. ‘Guess you're excited for that too, huh?’

Tapping your cheek with his other hand, you opened your eyes and stopped. Mason pulled his fingers out gently, bringing a string of your spit with him once he did so.

He praises you, ‘Good girl,’ in a deep, harsh voice that contrasted with the soft whine you gave out at the already-familiar name, which you adore hearing slip out of those gorgeous lips.

Mason pulled you away from the wall, quickly spinning you around to face the mirror. He stepped behind you, your head swiftly turning to look at him, but you didn't get the chance because he gripped your chin and forced you to look back in front, your eyes connecting with his through the reflection. ‘Keep those pretty eyes on the mirror or else I'll stop.’

He then placed one arm around your torso, bringing you close till your back was pushed against his toned chest, his rigid length pressing square against your ass. His lustful gaze was drawn to your reflection as his chin rested on your shoulder, his warm cheek against yours. Mason urged you to keep your legs apart, his spit-coated fingers working their way down and beneath your skirt, disappearing straight in between your legs.

When Mason placed his wet digits on your clit, your body jolted and you flung your head back, your eyes fluttering close with a faint moan. In an attempt to calm yourself, you placed one hand on the nape of his neck and the other on his forearm, which was draped over your tummy.

‘What did I just tell you?’ You could hear him murmur against your neck, his voice filled with warning. Mason hummed approvingly as he put a lovely peck on your skin, and you instantly dropped your head to gaze at your mirror again. ‘Good girl.’

When Mason began drawing circles around your already throbbing clit, you let out a low sigh. When you tugged at his hair, his grip tightened, your fingers digging into his forearm as you tried to keep your legs steady under you while keeping them apart enough for easy access.

‘Can't believe we haven't done this before,’ he whispered, his gaze fixed on the reflection of himself in the mirror. You were battling to keep your own eyelids open, having already been reduced to a quivering mess by his fingers that weren't even in you yet. He kissed your face lovingly, his grin big and confident as he leaned back against your shoulder to meet your gaze. ‘We look great together, don't we?’

‘Yeah, we really do-‘ you interrupted yourself off with a cry as Mason began massaging your clit quicker, shockwaves flowing through your body.

Your legs began to shake beneath you, and moans were increasingly impossible to control. It was almost humiliating how quickly Mason had you in this state.

And, in your defence, you'd been horny for quite some time. All of the teasing wasn't only torturous for Mason; it was also torturous for you.

‘Definitely buying a mirror to put by our bed after this,’ he mumbled almost to himself as he proceeded to make work with his fingers, alternating from stroking to flicking, knowing just when to press harder and when to go softer that would make all your senses go erratic in the finest of ways.

‘But still, look at how fucking beautiful you are, angel,’ he exclaimed, planting soft kisses on the side of your neck as he kept his gaze on you, the speed of his fingers never slowing, your skirt swaying in time with each flick of his wrist. ‘Did you see what I had to deal with? I knew it was going to be tough for me to stay focused the moment you walked out of our room in this beautiful skirt.’ Tilting his head to the side, he said, almost condescendingly, ‘Though what I didn't take into mind was you causing the actual trouble.’

When he started flicking your clit with his middle finger, you bit your bottom lip to suppress a loud moan. As you bucked your hips against his hand, you felt a knot in your stomach that was already beginning to twist.

Mason know your body like the back of his hand, so he knew you were close hence why he pulled his hand away.

You whined in protest when he pulled his hand away, but Mason completely ignored you as he pushed your shoulder, making you lean over. You did as you were told, gripping the edge of the counter with a shaky breath, your eyes following Mason's movements through the mirror as he stood behind you.

‘Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to control myself around you today?’ As he grunted, he lifted your skirt so that you were fully exposed for him and him alone, the coolness of the air somewhat soothing to your sweltering body. ‘How could I keep my hands off you in this fucking skirt?"

‘I can feel just how hard.’

You gasped as your body jolted forward with a gasp as a harsh smack rang through the air. As the sting of Mason's palm smoothed itself over the tingling skin of your ass right after,

That comment earned a hard spank.

‘Keep pissing me off, I dare you,’ he warned through gritted teeth, his glare sharp when you met his eyes on the mirror.

There was no doubt in your mind that Mason would not hesitate to leave you here unsatisfied. He won't even care about his own pleasure if it means he's teaching you a lesson. So, you bit your lip and stayed quiet, a pleading look covering your features, a silent apology glossing over your eyes.

Mason raised his brow at you, ‘That's what I thought. You know it's not difficult to change my mind, sweetheart. Should be thankful I'm even giving you something right now.’

Mason stretched your legs wider, a chill going down your spine as the cold air contacted your wet cunt. His gaze was fixed on your folds, which were now in full view of him, his head tilted, bottom lip hooked between his teeth with a sharp inhale.

‘So pretty,’ Mason said almost in a trance, keeping your skirt up with one hand on the small of your back and the other running up your inner thigh till his finger was ghosting over your sparkling core.

He touched your clit tenderly before sliding backward to tease his finger against your opening, and you moaned as he began spreading your slickness about.

‘This is definitely not the best stance when it comes to golf, But far apart enough is just how I want it,’ he remarked, winking as he smirked at you in the mirror.

When Mason inserted his finger, you bit your bottom lip to keep the loud groan from escaping.

He mumbled, ‘So fucking gorgeous like this,’ with his head bent to the side and his eyes darting between the mirror and the way his finger was slipping in and out of your cunt. When he added another, you bit back a scream, tightening your hold on the counter as he continued to angle his fingers downward to hit your G-spot. ‘I'd be lying if I say I haven't thought about having you in this exact same position out there the whole day.’

Your boyfriend is always a sight to behold when he's in this element, so you did your best to keep your eyes on Mason in the mirror to see how he was taking you.

‘Tell me more?’ As he proceeded to fuck you with his fingers, the movements grew faster and you asked gaspingly as your pants and gasps filled the bathroom. Your hips buckled to meet each thrust.

‘Fuck, I was thinking about where I could park the golf cart so no one could see while I bend you over and fucked you senseless.’ His eyes looked up at you as you tightened your grip on his fingers, tilting his head towards you smugly as he scoffed, ‘Yeah, you'd want that wouldn't you, angel?’

‘Mase,’ you wailed in outrage as he withdrew his hand, leaving you absolutely empty once again.

His hand cupped your chin, his thumb lightly tracing the outline of your jaw. His touch was gentle, but his voice was stern. ‘Be patient or I'm going to leave you here like this,’ he warned, keeping his gaze locked with yours as he brought his fingers up.

You felt the anticipation building up within you as he slowly, teasingly, trailed his fingers from your ass up to the small of your back, before pushing one finger inside of you. His finger moved in a slow, circular motion, teasing out a moan from your lips before he pulled it out and replaced it with two fingers.

He laughed, jerking his attention away from your cunt to meet your eyes in the mirror. ‘Never thought I would ever have sex in a public toilet let alone toilet at a golf course,’ he remarked. ‘First time for everything, huh?’

Your bones filled with contentment and a tiny bit of triumph upon learning that some of Mason's firsts were also your own as you responded with a lazy yet proud smile.

The second Mason pushed his tip into your entrance you decided to use your other hand to grab his, intertwining your fingers together. You wanted to feel more connected to him as he moved inside of you, and his hand in yours was the perfect way to do it. You felt his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he thrust into you, and it only increased the pleasure you were feeling.

‘Fuck,’ Mason hissed as he threw his head back, his eyes screwed shut with a low, rumbling sigh as your walls flapped to fit him all, gradually pressing until you were full to the brim. With a hard, quivering breath, he shook his head, his gaze falling to where you two were now linked. ‘I'm not going to last. Darling, you always feel like fucking heaven.’ He tightened his grasp on your hip, his stare locked with yours, and smugly remarked, ‘Now, let's see if I can break my own record of making you come in five minutes.’

Your breathing became erratic as Mason moved, and you felt your body trembling with each thrust. You were powerless to stop the moans and whimpers that escaped your lips as you felt the pleasure radiating through your entire body. You had never experienced anything like this before, and you were quickly losing yourself in the intensity of the moment.

He was fast to settle into a rhythm, each and every one of his thrusts fueled with the rage that had been building up for hours, all because of you. And now he was taking it all out on you in such a brutal way, putting you rightfully back in your place with deep groans following each snap of his hips as he drove into your cunt exactly as he promised.

Just like you wanted and exactly how you loved it.

His hands were tight around your hips, his body pressing against yours as you felt the pleasure build inside you. His cock filled you and your muscles squeezed around it as your orgasm started to crest, rising higher and higher until it broke over you in a wave of pleasure and bliss.

You could hear the sound of your own moans echoing off the walls, which only seemed to spur Mason on even further. His breathing was ragged and heavy as he continued to take you with an intensity that left you feeling breathless and aroused.

‘Cum for me, baby.’

His hands cupped your hips as you both moved together, faster and faster as if you were both aiming for something that was just out of reach. You felt his muscles tense up beneath you as you both reached the climax of your pleasure, and he called out your name as his own orgasm took over.

‘Hi there my beautiful girl.’

You felt a warmth blossom through your chest, the way it always did when Mason smiled. His touch was gentle, and it seemed to fill the room with a sense of comfort and security. You wanted to stay here, like this, forever, just the two of you in this moment of bliss.

‘Here, sit down,’ he murmured, reaching up to lift the toilet lid before gently setting you on the seat. ‘Just give me a sec, okay, my love?’ he murmured, pecking your lips quickly.

You nodded and tried your hardest to slow down your heartbeat. As you relaxed on the seat, the numbness in your legs gradually went away.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, one hand running up and down your thigh in comfort as the other cupped your cheek.

‘Amazing,’ you breathed out, leaning into his touch with a bright grin and a blissed-out look on your face.

‘Yeah?’ Mason nodded with a quiet giggle, pulling himself forward to kiss your lips before looking adoringly at you.

You nodded. ‘And tired.’

He hummed, ‘I bet you are,’ and soon after extended both of his hands to you. ‘You think you can stand up for me, love? Standing up will make it easier for me to tidy you up a bit.’

‘Mase, I got it-‘

He interrupted you, kissing your forehead before helping you back to your steady feet. ‘Let me,’ he said, cutting you short.

He urged you to hold the edge of the counter and bend over again, but this time without malice. Mason took a couple wipes from the package before bending down and tapped your inner thigh, instructing you to spread them wider. He gently cleaned you clean, careful and loving touches around your sensitive bits, a short apology departing his lips anytime you wince when he mistakenly nudges them too hard.

‘You good?’ He asked flashing a soft smile at you

‘I’m good,’ you hummed as you stood up, threw the wipes away and then went to the sink.

Mason then curled up next to you, placing his front against your back and his arms around your waist. He literally latched onto you while you washed your hands, leaving a path of kisses from your covered shoulder up the side of your neck and back to your shoulder. Once you turned off the tap, he wouldn't let you leave or even move, stretching his legs into a split while he went to get some paper towels from the wall dispenser so you could dry your hands.

You couldn’t help but giggle, always finding it quite endearing how Mason’s rather clingy after sex.

Once finished, you rotated while still in his grasp, both of your arms encircling his shoulders. Before he put his powerful arms around your waist, his hands reached over to iron out the fabric of your skirt.

‘You want to put your underwear back on?’he asked, softly brushing the tip of your nose with his.

When the simple reminder of what you two had just done a few minutes earlier was brought up, you hesitantly stated, "I think I'm a little sensitive to put it back on," shaking your head no. You anticipate that the reminder will stick with you for a few more hours.

As the words left your mouth, the room suddenly felt tense. Mason’s expression shifted from one of enthusiasm to one of concern. His brows furrowed and a look of worry crossed his face.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Just a little sore,’ you hummed, preparing yourself for Mason’s usual round of check-ups.

‘Was I too rough?’ he whispered, eyes looking through yours hesitantly.

‘Mason, you were perfect,’ you stated genuinely, your look full of honesty as you held his brown hues, before cupping his warm cheek. "You're always perfect."

Mason nodded softly with a quiet breath of relief, the apples of his cheeks going crimson as he leaned in to kiss you adoringly, gently squeezing your waist in appreciation. He drew away, tilting his head at you. ‘You sure you're feeling okay?’

"I promise, I'm good,’ you laughed, but there was no doubt in your tone whatsoever.

He chuckled shyly, turning his head to kiss your palm tenderly. Though a second later, a smirk graced his lips. You felt your heart burst at the seams, a bright smile erupting on your lips.

‘I’m glad you’re mine,’ you whispered, meaning in more things than just now but also, how lucky you truly are to call him yours.

He smiled and pulled you closer, letting you know without words that he felt the same way. His embrace was a reminder that you two were in this together, no matter how difficult things got. He was your rock, your support, and your partner, and you were so grateful to have him in your life.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut

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skinks · 5 months

Text

SPOILERS FOR SALTBURN

I haven’t seen Promising Young Woman but I did just see Saltburn and now I’m so dubious about Fennell’s politics that I’m basically obligated to see PYW to confirm my suspicions. It’s not that I think she’s conservative necessarily, but more that she’s so upper class London nepo baby rich that she could aspire to socialist feminism as much as she likes but it’ll never land because her background precludes her from ever having anything relevant to say about class.

There were things I liked about Saltburn. The editing, performances, black humour, costumes, sets, cinematography (NOT the aspect ratio - will explain) and the ballsiness of certain “transgressive” scenes I did appreciate. This is what makes it so frustrating and disappointing as a film. If you turn your brain off, it’s a wild ride, quite hypnotic and lovely to look at in that specific dreamy way that the dark, cool interiors of a house get on the hottest days of the summer. I hated the 4:3 aspect ratio though, it was POINTLESS. Why was it used? Surely it would have made more sense to capture the grand expansiveness of the titular estate in widescreen? It just felt twee for twee’s sake, like it was shot to produce compositions ready-cropped for big gifs on tumblr.

The “shocking” “transgressive” “erotic” stuff is not particularly any of those things. I mean, for me anyway. It might titillate the type of new-puritan gen z-ers who self censor it to “seggs”, but there was only one sequence that felt really “wow, I haven’t seen that in movie before!” levels of Going There. And even then these scenes always felt self-consciously affected, like Fennell only included them because she wanted to write a movie with fReAkY stuff, as opposed to the freaky stuff coming organically from the characters. I remember sitting in the cinema to see Call Me By Your Name feeling like I was burning to a crisp at the scene where Elio huffs a pair of a man’s used swim trunks - because it felt so authentic to this expression of a character who is at critical levels of desperate teenage horniness. In Saltburn, when Oliver gets down on his knees and slurps Felix’s jizzy bath water, it’s like… okay? Why? What does he want? We saw him lie about knowledge of the fancy plates to ingratiate himself to the dad, we already have reason to distrust anything he says, so it’s hard to believe he has any authentic desire for Felix. And that’s the main problem with the whole movie - the writing is fairly atrocious.

There’s no mystery. There’s no ANYTHING. There’s a tiny quick-cut flash montage of future events in the movie right at the start of the thing, so already we’re going in with no doubts that Oliver is gonna go nuts. So we know that bad shit is gonna happen, and yet the movie pulls out a big Twist Ending reveal like we… weren’t supposed to know that he’s been bad from the beginning? We don’t need all these flashbacks to show us he’d planned his dastardly deeds offscreen the whole time when we’ve already seen him commit OTHER dastardly deeds ONSCREEN. He’s given zero motivation. He tells us he did what he did because he hates this rich family, starting with Jacob Elordi’s Felix, but he had planned the whole thing from before they ever even met, or saw how the family treats the other two main victims of class in the film, Pamela and Farleigh. When Oliver starts spinning his web, Felix has never been anything but genuinely kind to him. Felix never did him any personal wrong except being born handsome, popular, and rich.

That’s the other glaring issue. Fennell has said this is supposed be another one of these “eat the rich” satires, but…. beyond the usual foot-in-mouth clueless social blunders, the movie portrays none of the rich family as even all that bad. Oliver isn’t even all that poor! His family are revealed to be extremely comfortably upper-middle class! This is not Parasite!!! The worst ethical thing they do is cut off Farleigh from family money - but it’s obvious to the audience that this is actually Oliver’s fault. So all we’re left with is this main character who’s the worst of the lot, with no reason to do what he’s doing except for being an asocial loser creep. If you’re making a class satire in Britain and your message at the end of the film is “those creepy disgusting middle class will pervert and mutate themselves to have what the beautiful victimised rich people do” you’ve… uhh. Failed. Somewhere along the line.

It wants to be The Talented Mr Ripley, but it is confused and stupid. Given Fennell’s background and social circle, is it any wonder? It’s like she’s looked around at her fellow Eton Oxford lot and thought “so the poors hate us because we’re a bit silly and old fashioned, right? no wonder they’re jealous, we’re all so sexy and our houses are so nice! Of course they’d do anything to have this!” She hasn’t seemed to conceive of the fact that the working class in Britain hate the upper class because millions live in genuine poverty while they get to obstruct social change because of archaic birthright. That many people in Britain don’t actually want to be the upper class, they want an end to them.

The thing is, I had fun watching it. I laughed a lot, and then left the cinema distinctly unimpressed, as one often does after interacting with people who go to private school and are perfectly charming but clearly still think they’re better/smarter than you because they have generational land, or multiple houses. I worked for 6 years as the stable groom for the heiress to a publishing fortune, I’ve met plenty of these people, believe me. All this to say, that this is deeply frustrating because I would like to turn my brain off from the dodgy politics and just appreciate a movie that goes out of its way to be visually stylish and includes a scene where a sobbing Barry Keoghan gets naked and fucks the fresh grave of his boy best friend. Now that’s entertainment

#I love freaky weird stuff in movies that’s my favourite stuff #but not when it thinks it’s cool and clever for being freaky and weird #that’s being a tryhard #your movie should be freaky and weird because you are freaky and weird

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bbutterflies · 2 months

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People seemed interested in my slowburn Adrino fic (no distance too far) on the wip reblog post - here's one of my favorite little snippets I've written so far! Context being Adrien was out of Paris all summer and he and Nino are starting at a new school when he comes back.

“You got taller!” Adrien shoved Nino playfully. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s not like I can control it,” Nino laughed, shoving him back. “But I can’t say I’m not enjoying being so much taller than you.”

Adrien pushed him again and then ran into the school before Nino could get him back. He weaved through the bodies, laughing and ignoring Nino’s shouts for him to slow down. Adrien ran aimlessly through the hallways — he’d never even set foot in this school before and was already hopelessly lost — but he could hear Nino’s footsteps and laughter echoing in the halls behind him, so he kept going. Past the crowd at the front, past the more thinned-out groups of students, into relatively empty hallways deeper in the school, when Nino finally caught up to him.

Nino caught him around his waist and lifted him right off his feet. Adrien’s breath caught in his throat at how close they suddenly were. He felt his face getting warm as Nino held on tight. He needed to pull himself together.

“Put me down!” Adrien laughed, pushing against Nino’s arm with little success.

“Stop running away from me, then.”

“Boys! No roughhousing in the halls,” a teacher shouted.

Nino immediately put Adrien back on his feet and took a step away. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” Adrien echoed, but as soon as the teacher had turned around he shoved Nino again. “When did you get so strong?”

“I obviously hit the gym every day while you were gone,” Nino joked. “Had to make sure you were impressed when you got back.”

“Y-yeah. I am.”

“What?”

Adrien turned around as his face heated up. What was wrong with him? “We should- we should go, um, find our first class. So we’re not late.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m great.” Adrien picked a direction, any direction, and started walking. “C’mon. I think it’s this way.”

“It’s definitely the other way. You missed orientation, remember?” Nino grabbed Adrien’s wrist. “I’ll show you.”

Adrien choked back a whine and followed him.

Adrien couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at Nino instead of looking at his notes. Nino had gotten taller, and stronger, since he’d last seen him. Adrien couldn’t stop himself from tracing his eyes up from Nino’s hand — so close to his, close enough he could easily reach out and take it in his own — to his forearm and past his elbow up where his skin met the sleeve of his t-shirt. Even just sitting here typing, it was impossible to ignore how much more toned his arms were than when they’d finished last semester, the faint definition of his muscles flexing as he typed.

(Why did Adrien know that? Why could he remember so clearly what Nino had looked like before?

Had he always been in love with Nino?

He didn’t have time to think about that.

Seriously, though, what had Nino been doing all summer to look like that?)

Adrien wondered what it would be like to be held by him. He wondered what it would be like to fall asleep in his arms.

He snapped his eyes back to his own notes, not that he had any intention of writing anything down. He had to try to focus.

It was inevitable he was looking over at Nino again.

He found himself studying the curve of his jaw and the shape of his lips, and Nino was warm, probably, and Adrien would bet that he tasted good, and-

Focus!

Adrien stared back at the mostly-empty page in front of him. He was going to have to ask for Nino’s notes. He tried listening to the lecture again but was completely, totally lost. He couldn’t take notes on this if he tried.

Fuck it.

He looked over at Nino again.

He knew from past experience that Nino’s skin was soft. He knew his shoulder was a great place to fall asleep, and it was a tempting offer now, if they weren’t in the middle of a lecture and surrounded by other students.

Was that- was that normal? Did best friends do that? Adrien had never had a good frame of reference for normal-platonic-best-friend behavior, but it was dawning on him that maybe the frequency with which he’d leaned against Nino’s shoulder — cuddled with him, basically — was not necessarily normal. He couldn’t imagine himself like that with anyone else.

But Nino was also his only best friend.

Adrien stifled a sigh, not wanting to draw attention to himself. It was all so confusing and so sudden. Nino’s hair had gotten longer over the summer. Hats were strictly not allowed at this school, which Nino had definitely complained about more than once, but it meant Adrien got the chance to appreciate his dark curls. He wanted to run his fingers through them, to know what his hair felt like. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to find out.

They were sitting near the window, morning sun filling the room and making Nino’s skin glow like he was covered in honey. Adrien couldn’t help but wonder if it would taste like it, too.

What was wrong with him?

Nino didn’t like him as anything more than friends. It was weird to keep thinking of him like that, in the middle of class, no less.

Nino raised his hand, startling Adrien back to reality. He asked a question Adrien couldn’t even begin to understand, voice smooth and confident, and took note of the answer. Adrien didn’t even bother writing it down, but he tapped his pen on his page restlessly.

Nino glanced at him and mouthed something Adrien couldn’t make out. He just stared back, confused, so Nino stole Adrien’s pen out of his hand and scribbled down a note on the corner of his page.

you good?

Adrien resisted the urge to rip that piece of paper out and frame it somewhere in his room.

He took his pen back with a smile. Tired, he mouthed.

Nino offered him a smile back, warm and forgiving, and turned back to his laptop.

Oh, god, Adrien was never going to pass this class.

He managed to keep his eyes forward for the rest of class, not that he understood any of the material.

“I have never seen you so distracted, man,” Nino said. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Just jet lag or something, I think,” Adrien lied. He was perfectly synced up with Paris’s time zone, having been adjusting to get back on time for the past week, and had had no trouble at all getting up with his alarm this morning. “I’m alright. Could you send me your notes, though?”

“Mine? Why?”

“I, um, got lost at the beginning.” Adrien pushed his notebook over to Nino. “And then I just stayed lost.”

Nino’s eyes widened when he saw the basically empty page. “Yikes. Yeah, of course, man. Want to come to mine tonight and go over it? My mom’s been dying to see you. She’s worried they didn’t feed you enough when you were gone.”

Adrien definitely wouldn’t get permission, but he didn’t have anything scheduled, and he missed Nino’s mom’s cooking. He could sneak out. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“You’re on.” Nino clapped him on the shoulder. “See you at lunch, then?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

Adrien, by no surprise, had no trouble at all focusing in the rest of his morning classes.

Lunch, though, was spent trying to hold up conversation with Nino without getting lost staring at him.

Adrien felt like he was being a creep. He hated that he couldn't just be normal and talk to his best friend. He hated that he couldn’t stop wondering what the hell Nino had done to get so much stronger, so much more muscular than he remembered.

(Nino had never been able to just pick him up the way he had this morning. Adrien was kind of realizing he was obsessed with that and was stuck wondering what he’d have to do to get it to happen again.)

Adrien had never, ever had this problem before. He was a model, for crying out loud. He was around beautiful people all the time. He’d spent his whole summer around countless attractive people, guys and girls and everyone, each more beautiful than the last. He’d always found it simple enough to ignore any thoughts about them and get to work.

There was no work to be done here. Nothing to do but sit and try not to steal glances at Nino, and try to maybe remember to eat his own lunch while he was at it.

“The food here is so much better than in collège,” Nino said around a mouth full of food.

“Dude, you should swallow before you talk.”

Nino rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I need to impress you anymore.”

Adrien felt his face flushing (which was stupid and not helpful and so unnecessary right now) and tried to play it off by taking a drink of water. “What, don’t care about my opinion?”

“I never said that.”

Adrien froze, staring back at Nino over his glass. “What?”

“What?” Nino parroted. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re being super weird today.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You look warm.”

Oh, god. Adrien shook his head. “I feel fine.”

“C’mere.” Nino put his arm over Adrien’s shoulders to pull him closer.

Goosebumps raked down Adrien’s arms. “Nino,” he whined, “what are you doing?”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?” Nino held Adrien close, despite the fact he was trying to wriggle free (and oh my god he was so strong how was he doing this so easily with one arm) and brought his other hand to Adrien’s forehead.

Adrien was going to scream.

“I’m fine, seriously.” Adrien tried to push Nino away, as much as he loved being close, because his heart was pounding in his ears and he was struggling to remember to breathe. “Dude, let go.”

“Never. Clearly I need to keep you safe.” Nino wrapped both arms around Adrien, squeezing him tight.

Adrien burst out laughing, still trying to break free. “Nino! Let go!”

“Boys!” a teacher scolded from somewhere nearby, and they both promptly let go and scooted away from each other.

Adrien stole a glance at Nino, who stole a glance back, and they both erupted into laughter.

“Could you imagine what your dad would do if we got suspended for fighting on the first day?” Nino said.

It made Adrien laugh all the much harder. “Oh my god. He’d lose his mind.”

“My mom would kill me. She’d be all over you, though.” Nino rolled his eyes. “Like, convinced I’d actually hurt you.”

“Jealous your mom likes me more?”

“I swear she would just adopt you if she could.”

Adrien didn’t hate the idea, except being Nino’s brother would be… super, super weird.

(Adrien could think of another way to be part of the family that would be way more on track with his line of thinking from the day but they were fifteen and he needed to seriously get his head on straight.)

“Hey, we can always just trade places. Think my father would notice?”

Nino snorted. “I bet I could get at least two days before he did, but only because I, like, lost a fencing tournament or something.”

Given how little time Adrien actually spent with his father, that sounded about right to him, too. “Seems like a fair deal to me.”

“What? No way.” Nino shoved him.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it. Your mom loves having me over.”

“Honestly, she probably wouldn’t even care if you just moved in.”

Adrien really wished he could sometimes.

#there's like... so much written... and so much still to write...#no distance too far #my writing

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yelenasdiary · 2 years

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Hold On - Paranoia

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: Things have been tough since you split from your wife, Natasha. Now wanting a fresh start elsewhere, Natasha sees what she’s truly losing. Is it too late for her to save what’s left of her family?

| Angst, light fluff | 4.3K | Warnings: you and Nat have two children. PTSD

Translation: detka (baby), YA lyublyu tebya, detka (I love you, baby)

AC: I actually love this mini-series so much

Hold On Masterlist

It’s been three weeks since Natasha moved back home, Riley expressed how happy he was to have his parents in the same house again by keeping on top of his chores and even helping out with Sophie, making sure she was happy whenever they played together and if he got himself a snack, he also made sure to get his baby sister the same.

Sophie was glad her mommy was home to scare off any monsters and even managed to get Nat to play tea party with her almost every day.

Things were great between Natasha and the kids, yet things were still a little rocky between you and Natasha. Since the break in, you’ve struggled with the trauma. Your life flashed before your eyes; you thought you were doing to die. You said your mental goodbyes. You soon became paranoid, loud noises mad you jump, the tree branches brushing against the window convinced you the masked man was back even though you knew Natasha had dealt with him.

Whenever Natasha took the kids out of the house you blew up her phone asking for hourly updates to assure your family was safe. At night you could help but make sure every single window and door to the house was locked, you avoided the dining room as much as possible and made Natasha throw out the dining table and chairs to replace them with newer ones.

Rooster recovered from his injury and never left the foot of your bed. If you moved the living room, he moved with you. Only when Riley and Sophie went to bed did he leave you be, Nat would find him sleeping on the floor in either kids’ bedroom.

It was 2:18am when Natasha woke up to an empty bed, with a frown she got out of bed to find you double checking the locks once again. “Baby, they’re locked” she said as you checked on of the windows in the living room.

“I’m just making sure. Doesn’t hurt to make sure, I just need to make sure” you said in a hurry.

“You’ve check them three times tonight” Natasha points out before walking over to and wrapping her arms around you, “you’re safe my love, the kids are safe. We’re safe” she assured you.

“Don’t say that Nat! Anybody could break in” you squirmed out of her hold and checked the neck window. “I have to make sure” you mumbled.

Natasha stepped back and let you check the locks for the third time tonight. You rushed around the house mumbling to yourself, Natasha took mental notes of your mental health with concern.

“He can’t get in, he’s not here. The windows and doors are locked” you mumbled to yourself once you’d finished checking over the locks. “The dining room. We need to get rid of the table and chairs, I can’t handle them” you mumbled once more as you walked into the dining room.

“Detka, we already did that. This is a new set” Natasha said softly behind you, unaware this would make you jump. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” You yelled. Natasha held her hands up to show you she wasn’t a threat. Tears filled your eyes once you noticed it was just Natasha.

“Nat” you cried, falling to your knees “somethings wrong with me” you sobbed.

Natasha kneeled down, wrapping her arms around you. “There’s nothing wrong with you” she kissed the top of your head, “we just need to get some help” she adds.

“I ca-can’t sleep, I can’t relax, I’m so scared”

Natasha held you tighter, “I promise I will never anybody hurt you” she whispers as you cry into her.

“Mommy? What’s wrong with Mama?” Riley rubs his eyes.

“Nothing baby, she’s okay, go back to bed, I’ll come tuck you in again in a moment”

Riley didn’t question her; he wanders back to bed.

“Come on, love” Natasha helped you back to your feet and lead you back to bed. She kissed your forehead and wiped your tears “I’ll be back” she whispered before returning to Riley’s room to find him peacefully asleep again, she smiled to herself and pulled the covers over his small body.

——

Natasha found a therapist for you to see, a recommendation from Bruce, a friend of his. You started seeing her twice a week and have been seeing her for a month now, Natasha always waited in the waiting room for you. Wanda or Clint would watch the kids in the meantime.

“Y/n it’s completely normal the things you’ve been feeling and thinking since the break in. It was a traumatic experience, nobody deserves to go through that.” your therapist explains, “this week, I’d like you to do something you haven’t done yet. Have dinner in the dining room, take your time and allow yourself to feel all the emotions. Remind yourself that you’re stronger than your fear of what took place. I know it might not be something you’re open too but, you mentioned you wanted to move towns. I think it’s worth overcoming this fear before you proceed with a move” she adds.

You gave her a nod.

“I’m also going to prescribe you some medication to help you sleep. I don’t want to you to rely on this, so I’ll prescribe a month’s worth of medication. Take 1 tablet an hour before you plan on going to sleep” she writes you a script.

“Thank you” you give her a soft smile.

“You’re doing really well, Y/n. I’ll see you next week” she smiles and sees you out.

You were pleased to see Natasha waiting for you. “How’d today’s session go?” She asked.

“Fine…she gave me a script for sleep medication, and she wants me to have dinner in the dining room this week” you explain as the two of you walked to Nat’s car.

“It’s okay detka. We can do it together, just you and me”

Three days later, Natasha had the kids stay the night at Wanda’s again just to help you overcome the fear of the dining room without distraction. She cooked your favourite dish and set the table for the two of you.

“Natty, what’s this?” You smiled as your wife stood over the stove. “I thought we could give the dining room a crack tonight” she said before turning off the stove. Your smile dropped as you looked over and saw the set table.

“Nat…I ca-can’t” you said as your breathing quickened. Natasha walked over to you and softly placed her hands on your waist. “You can” she says, “you’re my beautiful, strong and brave wife. I’m here with you, for whatever you need” she assures you before kissing your lips softly.

You took a deep breath and exhaled before slowly walking into the dining room. Natasha dished up the food and placed a plate in front of you.

Your eyes were locked to the floor. Your heart was racing, you felt like you’re sweating. Natasha reached her hand over the table and placed it on top of yours “baby, look at me” she spoke. Tears filled your eyes as flash backs flooded your mind.

“Natasha, please, I can’t!” You broke, feeling Natasha squeeze your hand. “Look at me, baby” she repeats. Slowly your eyes look up from the floor. Your heart breaking all over again, “I th-thought I was going to die Nat. I told myself you’d find m-my body…cold and th-the kids, I th-thought about their little sm-smiles” you blurred out, tears now falling freely.

“I said…I sa-said my goodbyes Natasha” you continued. “I thought about the d-day I told you I was pregnant with Riley. His birth, Then Sophie… Nat I said goodbye to you” you cried harder. Natasha stood from her seat to hold you. “I thought I was never going to see you again, never see the kids again. I was going to miss everything, their weddings, first partners” you went on.

Natasha comforted you until your crying had stopped, the food going cold, but she didn’t care. You looked up at her, eyes sore, puffy, and red, you could see she had tears of her own as she wiped your tears. Natasha would help but feel the guilt this was her fault. This happened because of something she had done in her past.

“I’m so sorry I let this happen” she looked at you, all you could do was shake your head “this isn’t your fault Natasha, don’t you dare tell yourself it is” you read right through her.

“Natalia, you saved me” you wrapped your arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. A soft smile came to her lips at her name.

As hard as the night was, Natasha reheated the meals and you stuck it out, it got easier as the night went on, but it took a lot of you. Falling asleep with your head in Natasha’s lap while she played with your hair, for the first time in weeks you felt safe, even if it were just for a moment.

----

“How is Y/n coping?” Wanda asked Natasha as they sat outside in Wanda’s backyard watching the kids play. “It really shook her” Nat starts to explain, “I took her to the therapist Bruce suggested and things seem to be going okay with that. Last week, she just broke down again and I” she paused and looked at Wanda with teary eyes, “it’s my fault Wands… this job, this lifestyle… it put her in danger. I should’ve done better” she adds.

“Natasha, you can’t blame yourself. This is what we signed up for. This is what we do, to protect them” Wanda spoke, her eyes looked over to the children playing, “I don’t think Y/n blames you for what happened”

“If I lost her Wands- “

“You didn’t though, she’s still here. She’s still here Natasha” Wanda assured her friend, “Are you guys, you know, back together?” her question follows.

“We haven’t really spoken about that since we kissed. She lets me hold her, but I don’t know where her head is at with possibly getting back together” Natasha explains with a hint of hope that you would take her back completely.

“Mommy I hurt my knee!” Sophie ran over to the friends in tears. “Oh baby, come here” Natasha placed Sophie on her lap, “let me have a look”. Sophie points to the dirty stain on her knee, sobbing “it hurts mommy” she cries.

“I think Auntie Wanda might have a band aid in the bathroom, let me check” Wanda smiles to the both of them before disappearing inside. “You know baby, pain only makes sure stronger” Nat gave her daughter a smile before placing a kiss on her knee. “I want mama” Sophie sobbed before placing her hand over her knee. “We’ll go home shortly, okay? You can give Mama one of your special big hugs yeah?”

Sophie nodded as Nat wiped her tears when Wanda returned with a warm cloth and a band aid. “Here we go” she smiled.

“Can you be a brave girl and let Auntie Wanda clean your knee?” Nat looked at Sophie who at first was hesitant to allow her Auntie to apply the warm cloth to the grazed knee, “okay” she said softly. “Good girl” Nat kissed her slightly chubby cheek and rubbed her back while Wanda cleaned the wound and placed a racing car band aid on.

“Auntie Wanda that’s a boys band aid” Sophie chuckled.

“Looks like Auntie Wands will have to buy some special princess band aids just for you huh?” Wanda smiled. Sophie wiggled out of Natasha’s lap and returned to her big brother who was playing with Tommy and Billy.

“She reminds me a lot of Y/n” Wanda returned to her seat. “You think?” Natasha chuckled.

Natasha returned home with the kids just before dinner, you’d spent most of the day asleep, the medication knocked you out well. “Mama!” Sophie ran to you on the sofa, “I hurt my knee at auntie Wanda house!” she says as you pull her up onto the sofa to sit next to you. “My goodness baby was you running too fast again?” you playfully cocked an eyebrow at her. “No mama! I tripped over when Riley was running at me” she explained.

“Oh, silly Riley!” you said before tickling her, her giggle being the highlight of your day. “Stop mama!!” she laughs “MOMMY!!” Sophie calls out to Natasha. “Oh no, mommy can’t help you now!! The tickle monster is here” you laughed and tickled her some more.

“What is Mama doing to my brave girl” Natasha smiles at the scene, you smiled at Natasha before giving Sophie a rest. “Go get your bath toys love, I’ll run you a bath” you helped Sophie off the sofa as she ran to her room.

“Y/n, can we talk after dinner?” Natasha asked, her tone serious. You gave her a nod as you stood from the sofa. “I thought we could just do pizza tonight, I overslept” you spoke. Natasha agreed and ordered a family sized pizza while you bathed Sophie.

----

You’d just finished tucking Riley into bed when you found Natasha sitting on the sofa with a glass of red in her hand. “Sophie is out like a log” you broke the silence.

“She was running around all day, only sat still for lunch and for Wanda to clean her graze” Nat replied. You felt a wave of awkwardness wash over you as you looked Natasha sipping her wine. “You wanted to talk” you spoke, sitting in the armchair away from her.

Natasha placed her glass on the coffee table and looked at you, “What are we doing?” she asked you, confused you gave her a frown. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“What are we doing Y/n? I just…I don’t know where we stand, I know things have been hard recently, so I don’t want you to feel pressure or anything but… are we together?” Natasha spoke. You sighed more to yourself before replying, “I guess we both need to talk” you said, your eyes falling to the rug on the floor. Natasha feared the worse, “if…if you st-still want the divorce…I’ll sign them” she regretfully says.

“No Nat, I don’t want that” you assured her, but she still felt something was wrong.

“You don’t?”

“No, I meant what I said Nat. I want to try again…just…not here” you admit, “I still want to move. I’ve been looking at places for a while, more when we weren’t together but after everything…I can’t live in this house, this town anymore” you explained. “I don’t want to drag you away from what you have here Natasha, but I can’t stay here”

“You wouldn’t be dragging me away Y/n. I told you, my life is with you and those beautiful kids we have” Natasha caught your eyes once more, “if you want to move, we’ll move” she adds.

“Are you sure?” you felt relief. Natasha nodded, “Whatever you want, as long as I’m with you and the kids, I don’t care where we live. Now, will you come over here so I can hold my wife again?” she smiles. You got up from the armchair and slumped down next to Natasha, she gently let you rest your head on her lap. “YA lyublyu tebya, detka” Natasha spoke in Russian causing you to blush all over again as if it was the first time, she told you she loves you. “I love you too, so much” you looked up at her with your flushed cheeks.

----

Over the past 4 months you and Natasha looked around at different houses on the countryside, Natasha always loved the feel of the Barton’s family home and the open space they had which is why you looked more at countryside homes. None of the houses you both looked at gave either of you the sense of feeling at home, so when Natasha suggested maybe you guys build your family’s forever home you jumped at the idea.

This gave you the perfect distraction from everything that had recently happened, and Natasha loved seeing how excited you got when showing her floor plans, paint colours and other things that you discovered while planning the family home. The kids had an input on their own bedrooms, and you made Natasha give you her input on everything else even though to her, she was already at home and had been for years, with you.

Natasha and you were clearly getting back to how things used to be. You kissed her more often than you did, she held you tighter and late-night conversations about the future finally returned. Natasha did speak to Tony and had her retirement lifted, she returned to work on the terms that she’d only go on mission’s if she was truly needed but other than that she would help train the new Avengers and keep them inline. Her last mission was only three weeks along and she worried about you, asking Pepper to check in on you as you were still coping with your trauma.

“Riley’s a little worried about the move” you spoke as you and Natasha got ready for bed. The house only being a couple of weeks away from being completely built and ready to live in. “He’ll be okay, he’ll love it. The open spaces, the mini basketball court you gave him and once we settle in, he can have Tommy, Billy and Nathaniel over as much as he likes” Natasha spoke, hoping to calm your own worries. “And Sophie?” you looked at her, “Detka, she’s three, she just wants a house filled with pony’s” Natasha chuckled, so did you. “God, she’s already asking for a pony!” you got into bed. “She’s already got names planned” Natasha added. You smiled while shaking your head, “if you get her a damn pony, you can be the one to clean up after it” you looked at Natasha with a playful look.

“Anything to make my girls happy” Nat smirked before leaning towards you, placing her soft lips on yours. “Mhm, anything?” you said between kisses. “Anything” Nat whispered before you slowly pulled her on top of you. She held herself up with one hand, brushing your hair with her free hand as she looked deeply into your eyes “What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

“Just about how lucky I am” you smiled, “how lucky I am to have you as my wife, to love and to hold, to mother our children” you added.

“I think I’m the lucky one” she smiled before kissing you once more.

----

The long-awaited time had arrived, the house was ready to move into. You were excited to start the new chapter with your family, Sophie was excited after Natasha promised her a pony for her 5th birthday, Riley still struggled with the idea of leaving his friends and having to start at a new school but you, Natasha, Wanda and Clint had planned for the boys to have a sleep over party to help Riley settle into his new home.

Within weeks of settling into the new home you started to feel safer, your fears didn’t have such a hold on you anymore, yes you still made sure everything was locked at night, but you were able to move around the home freely without fear.

“How was school today bud?” you smiled as Riley walked out of his new school, “I made a new friend! His name is Chase, and he loves basketball!” Riley replied with excitement, “do you think he could come over on the weekend for a sleepover?” he asked before you could reply.

“Well, Mom and I would have to meet his parents first, but I don’t see why not” you smiled, taking his backpack. The two of you walked around the block to the day-care centre where Sophie went twice a week.

“Mama!” she smiled the moment she saw you. “Hi baby” you picked her up and kissed her cheek, “did you have a good day?” you asked her. She nodded, “I had this many slices of apple!” she showed you her three tiny fingers. “Wow baby, you must be full” you smiled.

“She did have a moment of tears today but other than that she was a dream” her teacher smiled, “Oh and don’t forget to take home your painting Sophie” she added.

“I won’t!”

You placed Sophie back on her feet and told her to grab her bag while you walked over to the drying rack and grabbed the painting with her name on it.

“Do you like it, Mama?” she looked up at you, dropping her bag at your feet.

“It’s beautiful, you’ll have to show mommy when we get home” you smiled while looking at the painting. “it’s me, rwley, mommy, you, rwoster and my new pony!” she explained.

She wasn’t going to ever forget Natasha’s promise you thought to yourself, picking up her backpack. “Mommy is going to love it just as much as I do” you looked at your daughter.

“Sophie, it’s R I L E Y not rwley” Riley mumbled.

“Hey, she’s still learning” you pointed out. “Come on, let’s go home. I made cookies today, if you are good maybe you can have two before dinner” you reached for Sophie’s hand.

The walk to your car was just Sophie telling you and Riley all about her big day at day care, although Riley was annoyed, she couldn’t pronounce his name correctly, yet he still let her finish before he spoke about his day in the car.

Once home, Sophie was quick to run inside and put her painting on the fridge, held by butterfly magnets. Riley dumped his school bag in his room before going outside to play fetch with Rooster, Sophie went to play with her dolls while you got a start on dinner. Natasha was due home any moment, she’d been on a mission for the past three days.

“Riley! Come wash your hands please, dinner is almost ready” you called from the back door, the smell of dinner filling the house. You walked into Sophie’s room as she was a little too quiet, you found her curled up on her floor, asleep with one of her dolls still in her hand. You smiled, picked her up and carefully placed her on her bed.

“Mom’s home!” you heard Natasha call from the front door.

“Shh” you whispered, closing over Sophie’s bedroom door. “She’s asleep” you added.

“Whoops” Natasha pulled you close and kissed you passionately, “I missed you today” she whispered, “I can see that” you smirked and kissed her again. “Eww” Riley cringed as he walked into the bathroom, you and Natasha laughed quietly.

Later that night, Natasha and you were cuddled close in bed, Nat playing with your hair as you rested your head on her chest, both of you having another one of your late-night future conversations.

“What do you think is next for us?” You slightly looked up into her green eyes. “Whatever comes next” she replied with a smile, “Sophie still has her first day of big school coming up, Riley still has high school to start eventually, we’ve got this big house now maybe we could hold Christmas this year?” Natasha adds.

“I like that idea, Christmas at the Romanoff’s” you returned the smile “we better start organising things, Christmas is only a few months away” you added.

“I’ll help with whatever you need” Nat kisses the top of your head. There was a moment of silence between the two, you thought about asking Nat how she was adjusting to the new workload but worried it might upset her.

“Did you see Sophie’s drawing? She was rather excited to show you” you broke the silence.

“I did” Nat chuckled, “I’m going to have to actually get her a pony on her 5th birthday aren’t I”

“You never know, she might forget”

“I hope so” you both laughed quietly.

Slowly, you sat and faced Natasha “are you happy?” you jumped straight in. Natasha frowned slowly, worried where the question came from. “I mean with work, are you happy?”

“Oh, yeah. Training newbies is fun”

“But you miss it”

“A little” Natasha spoke with honesty, “it’s only been a couple of weeks, I’ll get used to it” she assures you, but you still didn’t think she would. “Y/n, I’m happy” she smiles and pulls you back down to your original position, “I have everything I could ever need and more right here” she adds, returning to play with your hair.

“Do you remember when we first met?” you softly spoke, “Kind of hard to forget” Nat chuckled, “you weren’t interested in the party at all”

“That I was” you also chuckled.

—Flash Back—

Your best friend dragged you to yet another party as her plus one. She was looking for some fun while you just wanted to go home and read a book. “Please just try and enjoy yourself” your friend begged, with a sigh and a groan you promised. “Fine, but I don’t want to be here all night, can we please leave before midnight?” you asked.

“Deal! Now I’m going to go over and talk to that spunk” she pointed to a muscular man with long blonde hair, “god” you mumbled “have fun, I’ll just get myself a drink” you replied.

The party was packed with people, hosted by the famous Tony Stark and he made sure that party goers knew who he was as he walked around greeting people in his Iron Man suit.

“You don’t look impressed” a woman with red hair smiled. “Oh, well, I guess you could say I have better things to be doing but my friend dragged me to this party” you explained.

“What would you rather be doing?”

“I’d rather be at home with my feet up reading a decent book” you admit. The woman chuckled a little, “so why did you come then? You’re old enough to make your own choices”

“Well, my friend, the other over there” you pointed towards your friend who was flirting with the unknown man, “she didn’t want to come along so here I am”

“Yes, here you are, alone” the woman points out. “Don’t put it that way. Makes me sound friendless” you laughed.

“My bad” the woman laughed with you. “My names Natasha” she spoke.

“Y/n”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“You pay for them?”

“No” she smiled.

You’d seen her face on television before but never really took much notice to the Avengers or watched the news.

—Flash Back Over—

“You never told me how you ended up with my number” you looked up at Nat.

“I may have spoken to Thor, got the name of our friend then checked the guest list for her name” Nat finally explains after all these years.

“So basically, you stalked my friend just to get my number?” cocking your left eyebrow.

“I think it worked just perfectly, don’t you?” She smiled once more. “Shut up” you smiled back before pressing your lips against hers, Nat deepens the kiss, her hands feeling your body.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #mini series #fanfiction #black widow #marvel #the avengers

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passivenovember · 10 months

Text

When Billy Falls in Love

Max stays angry red.

She wasn’t at the pool today. Steve knows because he was at the pool fifteen minutes ago, and Billy wasn’t there. And if Billy’s gone so is Max, and if Max is here--

Steve can tell she doesn’t really want to know what the deal is. Maybe she already knows.

Max is fourteen and a perpetually bored pain in the ass, already moving to shut Steve out of the house when he jams his foot so the door won’t close.

Max tugs on it. Groans. “Steve,” Max says, sounding tired.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know because we don’t keep tabs on each other, you psycho.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says. Neil’s car isn’t in the driveway, he almost points out.

Doesn’t.

Max almost cracks a smile, seeming to hear him anyway. If Neil’s gone that leaves Billy to play guard dog. “If you care so much about my stupid brother all of a sudden--”

“--All of a--”

“Get in your stupid shitty car and go drive around until you find him,” Max says, like. Get lost.

There’s a lot to latch on to, Steve’s hands slip over it like a gymnast missing the high bar.

The way she’s looking at him, the way Max said all of a sudden like Steve’s done something wrong--

“He used to drive you around,” Steve says, like. Aha. “Don’t you give a shit?”

About him?

About his bones and blood.

Max shrugs. “Why should I?”

“His car's gone,” Steve says. Because she owes it to him and his months and months of blue balls at her lack of self-preservation. She owes it to Billy.

“His car’s gone because he’s not here, Steve, we just went over this--”

Max moves to slam the door and Steve holds it open, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that spreads through his stomach. “Why are you acting weird?” Steve demands.

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one who’s trying to break into my house because Billy stepped out for five minutes,” Max tugs on the door, groaning dramatically, “C’mon Steve--”

Steve clutches the bouquet of flowers close to his chest. “We’re supposed to go see a movie.”

Max stops pulling on the door, all the attitude cut from her with something dull.

Steve swallows. His nails dig into the palm of his free hand. Steve feels blood swell, but it’s probably just sweat. “Billy. He’s not on a date--”

“--I--”

“Shut up,” Max tells him, and Steve swears there’s a bit of green swirling in all that red, embarrassment mixing like watercolor. “Can I be honest with you, Steve?”

Steve nods. He takes his foot from the door jam and rubs his hand on his jeans. Shudders as the feeling in his stomach ebbs and swirls and gets so much worse.

“You’re not his fucking boyfriend,” Max says, and slams the door in his face.

“Well. To be fair, she’s not wrong.”

Steve grips the steering wheel. The leather crackles and squeals with the skin of his palms, giving way to the rumble of the engine when he turns the car onto Park Avenue.

“Jesus,” Eddie snaps, his free hand scrambling to brace against the passenger door while the bouquet teeters dangerously on his lap, “You don’t have to take the turns so fast, Harrington--”

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“--Fucking Evel Kenevil--”

“I mean. I’m practically his boyfriend, right?”

“Sure, and you’ll still be ‘practically his boyfriend,’ even if you drive at the speed limit.”

“Thought you said Max wasn’t talking out of her ass, Munson?”

“Look, I’m allowed to take things minute by minute. I’m just saying,” Eddie tightens the seatbelt against his chest, “You haven’t exactly popped the question.”

“You think Billy’s the kind of guy who--”

“Yeah,” Eddie says casually. “He’s exactly the kind of guy who wants to be asked out. I’ve seen the way he picks flowers and puts them in his own hair when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Steve snorts. “When has he ever done that?”

“We hang out, you know,” Eddie tells him, in lieu of an answer. “When you’re not around, we hang out loads--”

“Maybe you’re Billy’s mystery man,” Steve says only half serious. Mostly joking.

Eddie flushes deep red, “Anyway. This bag of weeds is a good start,” He mumbles, twisting the fat head of a dandelion gently between two fingers.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to unpack any of what that might mean.

Hawkins is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair. A shithole. Billy only has a handful of places to hide.

Eddie clutches the door again with another sharp, sudden turn. “Harrington--”

“I’m not dropping you off until I find him.”

“Alright,” Munson grumbles. He lights a cigarette and stares out the window for half a neighborhood block and then says, “How do you know he’s not at home, already?”

Steve grips the steering wheel, convinced Eddie wasn’t listening the first time. “Maxine said--”

“That was an hour ago.”

“Neil doesn’t get off until seven, if Billy’s gone he wont be back until six-thirty at the earliest.”

Eddie checks the dash. “It’s six-thirty now.”

“Do you wanna die today, freak?”

Steve takes a harsh pull from the cigarette. Coughs and hands it back.

Eddie takes it from him. Ash gathers on the cherry but he’s got no self-awareness.

“If you get ash in my flowers, Munson--”

“Jesus Christ, would you give it a rest? He’s gonna love them. He’ll probably cry, once he’s done beating the shit out of you.”

Silence falls, lurid and uncomfortable, and Steve realizes Munson is watching him. Staring at him,

“This is insane boyfriend behavior, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“So, you admit I’m his boyfriend?” Steve tries weakly, in lieu of what he means. Why Should I Take Advice from You?

“I’m saying this is boyfriend behavior but you won’t be a boyfriend for long, once he finds out what we’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve grits his teeth. “What are we doing that’s so wrong, Munson?”

“Hunting him. Like a couple of crazy fucking bloodhounds.”

“We had a date,” Steve tells Eddie again. For the eightieth time. “Billy’s never missed a date so he’s either dead or dying or riding some other guy’s--”

Eddie bangs his head against the window.

Steve rolls the window down for him if only to protect the integrity of the Beemer. “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I know Billy. And he wouldn’t just disappear without--”

“You’re not his dad,” Eddie tells him, and Steve.

Steve loves Billy so much it gets him into trouble.

Eddie sucks down his smoke again, like, “You’re really doing all this for a missed date?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m just saying,” Eddie shrugs, “I heard stories about you and the Wheeler chick. Seems like she missed a lot of dates at the end and you never did anything like this for her.”

“Billy’s not Nancy. Billy’s not like anyone, he’s--”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, coughing. “You. You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass, you’re serious about him.”

And.

Munson says it like it’s a shock.

Way wrong. Stuck four years in the past.

Steve has to bite down against every harsh word on the tip of his tongue, tear the sentences apart and swallow them down because of course he’s worried.

It makes him crazy.

Steve worries all the time if Billy loves him. If actually saying it makes a difference.

If it kills him.

He’s going to find Billy tonight and tell him the truth if it kills him--

“We’ve gone down this street, already,” Eddie says.

“You’re not helping.”

“I'm just pointing out the obvious.”

“And I’m just pointing out--”

“Look, if you care about Billy so much, why don’t you respect his privacy?” Eddie demands. Somewhere, along the way, he ashed his cigarette on the dashboard.

Steve wants to check the flowers.

Steve swallows. Feeling so, so small.

“Everyone says you’re a changed man,” Eddie gets closer, somehow. Looms. “What if Billy thinks you’re bullshit?”

Everything in that shitty little town hangs over him. Feels so huge. Max and Neil and his parents and graduation and the last month of summer, sitting bigger than the sky.

The engine thrums underneath them and Steve swallows, turning against his seatbelt. “If Billy doesn’t love me,” Steve says, easy and slow, “He can say it to my face.”

Eddie blinks.

Steve can sense the cogs turning, underneath all that hair. Brown like his, curly like Billy’s. “It won’t change how you feel about him?” Eddie asks.

And Steve realizes, like a punch to the gut, that Eddie Munson cares about this.

About Billy.

That Steve would survive losing this.

He wishes, a deep ache thrumming in his chest, that everyone would either get it or fuck off.

Eddie smirks. It’s slow and terrible.

“Alright, Harrington,” He leans back in his seat and nods, satisfied. “I think I know where our boy is hiding.”

Duane county used to house to the only mall within a hundred miles until Starcourt.

It’s a small and bustling and annoyingly progressive city, compared to Hawkins, and Steve isn’t the least bit surprised that Billy would run to a place like this to hide for a while.

What surprises him is that Billy knows how to skateboard.

Eddie doesn’t move.

“You coming?” Steve asks, frowning when Eddie sparks something too pale and skinny to be a cigarette.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

Eddie hands Steve the bouquet. It’s crushed and it smells like dope.

“Billy’s gonna take one look at these sorry fucking flowers and break up with me,” Steve grumbles, his nose scrunching, and.

Eddie smiles at him.

It’s soft and real, and kind of beautiful, and Steve gets why Chrissy Cunningham is apparently head over heels for the guy.

“He loves you, too,” Eddie says, like, “Go on. Quit stalling. Don’t think your big love confession will feel the same if I have told your hand through it.”

Max’s scrunchie.

Billy squints across the parking lot and recognizes Steve, his expression clouding over immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demands.

Steve waddles across the parking lot, “Eddie’s here,” He calls, like an idiot.

“So?” You fucking him now?”

“No, I--”

“What are you doing here, Harrington?”

Steve almost trips over himself, knees with with nerves. Billy does that to him, always. Forever.

The half-pipe is huge up close, looming like the mast of some ancient, terrible ship and Billy is the pirate waiting to throw him overboard. “We had a date,” Steve says.

Out of breath.

Weak.

“Flowers,” Steve tells him.

“Flowers,” Billy mocks softly. There’s no bite.

As Steve crashes and burns.

Steve holds his breath. Billy glides down the half pipe, seeming to ride on the wind until he comes to a delicate, perfect stop in front of him.

He smells like peaches.

He’s been eating peaches. Billy’s hands are sticky when he grabs the bouquet, and Steve’s skin lights on fire from his touch.

It’s so usual. It’s brand new every time.

“You bought me flowers?” Billy asks, pinning Steve with a clear, vibrant stare.

His eyes are so blue. So beautiful--

“--Right--”

“Some of these are weeds,” Billy tells him.

“I--”

Feels that way about Billy.

“I,” Steve tries again,

“Thanks for the flowers,” Billy says, and he turns to go.

“Wait,” Steve says. Begs. He almost reaches to stop Billy but he doesn’t want to hurt him.

Billy stops. Waits.

Something sharp and fragile sits there, just under the layer of indifference Steve was always too stupide to notice before, but.

“I love you,” Steve says. He sounds strangled. Drowning.

It hurts.

It hurts and it really, really doesn’t when Billy flushes red. “I love you, too.”

And.

“Eddie and I are just friends,” Billy says, quickly. His gaze is steady on Steve’s face. “I don’t need anyone else for that, I have. You.”

He does.

He really does.

So he straightens his spine. Clears his throat. Says, “Well. I love you like I want to take you on dates. And introduce you to my parents. I want you to go steady with me and wear my letter--”

“We can’t do that sort of stuff, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Well, then, why’d you say it?”

“Because it’s what I want,” Steve snaps. Like, “You’re so annoying.”

“Neither do you, asshole,”

“So now what?” Billy demands, his arms flaring wide, “You’re gonna say you want to go steady with me and we’re not gonna do it? Tease.”

“They are,” Billy tells him, annoyed.

And then.

Steve gets an idea.

He sits on the ground and pulls both shoes off.

“Here,” Steve says, standing to hold the shoes out in front of him. He hops from one foot to the other as his heels start to burn.

Billy stares at the Nike’s as if they’re coiled snakes. Like if he takes them, they’ll burrow under his toenails and poison him from the inside out. “I don’t get it--”

“I don’t have a letter, but. People might see you in them and get it, right? When has anyone ever seen Billy Hargrove in a pair of Nike’s?”

Billy blinks, confused.

“You’re mine,” Steve says. “So they’re yours. Take them,”

Billy considers him for a long moment and then sets the bouquet on the ground. “Wait here,” He says, and skates off around the bend in the half pipe.

Steve’s feet are on fire.

He’s hopping dramatically, and in the distance he can hear Eddie laughing, and Steve’s going to kill him, but then.

Billy’s back and he’s holding his boots in his hands. “Here,” He says, “Eye for an eye, right?”

And Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips into the worn leather, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable they are. His feet thank him, the raging fire finally simmering.

Steve watches Billy.

Steve shrugs, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, before.”

“Think we’ll be any good at it?” Billy asks. He squats deeply, popping back up with a wide, beautiful smile planted pretty as a forest on his face.

It beams itself, magically, onto Steve’s. Startles a bright, hysterical laugh from somewhere deep inside of him.

“You’re perfect,” Steve says. Nothing has ever felt more true.

#harringrove #fluff #clothes swapping #love confessions #idk what this is #i'm just feeling very In Love

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crazyk-imagine · 2 years

Text

Get Them Cowboy Boots Moving

Pairing: Willard Hewitt x City girl!Reader (afab!reader)

Characters: City girl!Reader (afab!reader), Willard Hewitt, Ren McCormick, Rusty Rodriguez, Ariel Moore, Tony Moore (Ariel’s Cousin), Chuck Cranston, Cranston “henchmen”

Warnings: Fighting, blood, misunderstanding of one’s feelings, reader is oblivious to Rusty and Tony being together, Willard is a simp for the reader, mentions of the “hat rule”

Word Count: 1,533

*Reader is Ren’s bestie from Boston

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You throw your head back, headbutting the guy trying to pull you away from the others. You trip after escaping from his hold. You force yourself off the ground, spinning around to kick him.

He grabs your foot, tossing it to the side.

You’re already off balance and fall, landing on your stomach. You close your eyes, waiting for his next move, so you can kick him in his stomach.

“Come on,” Ren and Tony, Ariel’s cousin, haul you up before the former goes after Ariel’s dumbass ex Chuck.

You hear grunts and punches, finding Willard beating the shit out of the guy who was messing with you.

He shoves him away, turning to walk to you when another one of Chuck’s friends jumps on his back.

Before things could escalate, he maneuvers his way towards a truck him, slamming the guy into it, flipping him into the truck bed. He steps away before he could find himself in a hospital.

The girls run back over to you asking if you’re okay, distracting you from the fact that the boy with the country accent who just helped you, the one who’s seemingly been in love with a girl with curly air and an interesting, hardly heard of name, beat the crap out of some guy who was harming you.

“Are you two, okay?” You ask, checking over them, something you’ve been doing to everyone since you came to town.

“We’re fine. Are you okay? You took a tough fall with that animal?” asks Rusty, who glances over at the truck.

Tony makes his way over to you three, his hand on the back of Rusty’s back.

You shake off their concerns, “’course I’m fine.”

“Are you-” Ariel starts when Willard and Ren walk over to you girls.

“Everyone okay here?” Ren keeps his gaze on Ariel.

She nods, “yeah, we’re fine. I don’t know about her though.” She gestures to you.

“You guys go in. I’ve got to get a Band-Aid for my elbow and I’ll meet you in there right after.”

“No,” Ren shakes his head.

“Absolutely not,” Tony adds. “We all go in there as a group.”

You sigh, avoiding there gaze. “Just- I need a minute, alright?”

The girls sigh.

Willard stats behind you, gesturing for them to go inside.

Ren smirks, knowing his boy is about to make a move (or he hopes he is).

Tony sighs and shakes his head, knowing the kid ain’t gonna be able to spit the words out right.

The four leave.

You turn away, expecting all five to be in the building dancing the night away. You unlock your car, opening your trunk, searching for your first aid kit.

“I got a- a first aid kit in my car.”

You jump back, dropping the kit before smacking his arm when you see who it is.

Willard rubs his arm, “ow?”

“You dumbass. Why’d you do that?”

“I was trying to be nice, a gentleman some might say but clearly that didn’t go as planned.”

“Obviously. Shouldn’t you be in there, sweeping Rusty girl off her feet?”

“I could but she’s already got someone in there dancing with her.”

“Ah,” you nod, pulling out a Band-Aid and Neosporin. “I’m the only one without a date so naturally-”

“Woah! Woah! You’ve got this all wrong-”

“Oh, great. I’m not even good enough to be your date willingly. That’s nice.” You chuckle sadly and toss your trash into your trunk, not in the mood for anything else.

“No, Jesus! No! Just- just come with me, alright?” He holds hand out for you. “I want to show you somethin’.”

You shake your head, raising your hands to close the trunk, “if this is a prank or something stupid-”

“Stop talkin’ so we can start dancin’.” He slams your trunk closed for you.

You blink in surprise but can’t take a moment to process it any longer since he takes you by your hand, pulling you into the dance.

Couples are already dancing, crowding the floor leaving little space for everyone but, when Willard has something on his mind, he’ll come up with a plan and figure it out.

You and he stand near Ren and Ariel who are lost in their own world, beside them is Rusty with her man- “that’s Ariel’s cousin,” you point out.

“Sure is.”

You tilt your head.

“Why’s that so hard to understand?”

You turn your head back to his, watching his curious gaze. “I just- I thought you and Rusty were into each other?”

He shakes his head, “she wanted to make him jealous and I, being the good friend and guy that I am, I helped her out.”

“Oh.”

“You ready to dance?”

“I thought you didn’t dance. No. No- I’m sorry let me, correct myself- because you couldn’t dance.”

He straightens his posture with his hands on his hips. “Alright, listen here, Missy. I can dance… now and I am trying to lay on the charm here.”

“Charm?”

“Yeah, you know when a guy likes a girl. He tries to impress her.”

You furrow your brows, “when a guy likes-”

Willard hears someone whistling, he turns to see someone from one of his classmates pointing to you.

He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to the makeshift DJ station. He guides you behind the equipment. His hand drops down onto your lower back. “Alright, darlin’. This is when you play a good song and I run out onto the dancing floor and impress you.”

A smile sneaks its way onto your lips, “you don’t need to impress me, Willard.”

“Yes, I do. I need to make sure you know how much I like you before the night is over.”

“Will-”

“No. No. Play the song and watch, okay? Please?”

You sigh, placing the headphones on your head, “fine. Go get them boots movin’.”

“Is that a twang of country I hear in-”

“Will, come on, man.” Ren grabs the country boy and hauls him back onto the dance floor.

You’re barely paying attention to the music as the boy in the cowboy hat moves on the dance floor.

“Where’d he learn to dance like that?” asks Rusty, standing beside you with Tony holding her hand.

“I don’t know?”

“He’s really making sure you’re watching him.” She smirks.

“What?” You look up, turning towards her.

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

“I really don’t. I bet if I look back, he’ll be having fun, dancing the night away like the rest of the students.” As soon as you turn around, his pretty chestnut eyes right in front of you.

“You’re dancing now.”

You shake your head, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He challenges you.

“Someone has to do the music-”

“I can do it.”

You sigh, “Tony-”

“Thanks, Tony!”

You giggle, “Willard! Willard, slow down.”

He stops in the middle of the dance floor, spinning you around before pulling you back into his arms. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight? And every other day and every time I see you.”

You move to face him, his arms still wrapped around your waist. You gulp, “I don’t think you have.”

“I’ve got some lost time to make up for, don’t I?”

You hum, stealing his hat off his head. “You also have yet to ask me a certain question.”

“Ah, right? You plan on giving me my hat back? I’m sure my hat hair is real bad.”

You lean closer to him, “no and wrong question.”

“You know the hat rule and anyone with half a mind know not to ask you out.”

“Possessive, are we?”

“Hell yeah, especially with a pretty lady such as yourself… who I’d be lucky to call mine?”

Your fingers play with the hair on the back of his neck, “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to think about that one.”

“Don’t break his heart now,” Ren interrupts your conversation.

You offer him a dry laugh, “very funny. How do you think priesthood will be?”

“Not cool, darlin’,” Ariel adds.

“And yet, you still love me.”

They shake their heads, dancing away from the two of you.

The boy dancing with you wastes no time. “Was that a yes?”

“I’d say the fact that I’m wearing your hat and not dancing with someone who will step on my toes should be more than enough for you to know.”

“Know?” He asks, his southern drawl making him even cuter.

You roll your eyes, sighing.

He tries to ask what’s wrong until your hands are on his cheeks pulling him closer. Willard closes his eyes at the sensation of your warm… soft… lips colliding against his.

You pull back, staring at him.

He opens his eyes and finds your worried gaze on him, he smiles. “It’s about damn time.”

“Is it now?”

“You bet. Been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Guess tonight was your lucky night, cowboy.”

He lets out a joking groan. If only you knew what that nickname actually did to him. “Care to dance till dawn with me?”

You place his hat back on his head with a smile, slapping your hand in his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#footloose #footloose 2011 #willard hewitt #willard hewitt imagine #willard hewitt imagines #willard hewitt x reader #willard hewitt x you #footloose imagines #footloose imagine #footloose 2011 imagines #footloose 2011 imagine #willard hewitt x city girl!reader #willard hewitt x afab!reader #willard hewitt x city girl reader #willard hewitt x afab reader #crazyk-imagine

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chr0macide · 4 months

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Break In 2: The Novelette (Fanfic)

PART 1

got damn I finally finished this. Writers block was wilding on my ass so I hope this didn't turn out like shit lol. I drew a lil bit of art for this fanfic (I say "drew" but a lot of it is just textures from google edited together into a picture lmao). Just 3 pics but yeah I got bored and wanted to draw. Might make a separate post for them sometime so people who don't wanna read or scroll through this can see them.

I recommend reading part 1, there are some references and callbacks that you might not get if you haven't read it already.

Again if you see any grammar/spelling errors please tell me. don't let me just leave that shit in because that's hella embarrassing 🙃

oh also for those who don’t know, the premise of this fanfic is basically just me turning the game into a short story

TW implied sexual violence (not involving any main characters, relatively short section, but its there)

This one is about 16,000 words, alright lets do this

Chapter I – Unsafe Haven

A fork of lightning illuminated the woods as Prince drove down the trail at a snail’s pace. The deluge was so heavy that it was almost impossible to see through the windshield, even with the wipers on. He brought the car to a standstill and let the engine idle.

“We’re gonna have to wait the storm out,” Prince told the kids. “Can’t keep driving like this.”

Stephanie kicked the back of Prince’s seat. “Worst camping trip ever,” she grumbled with her tiny voice.

“Relax. We’ll get there,” the elder brother said, but the truth was that he may or may not have taken a wrong turn through the thick fog.

It had been almost a year since the four kids had butted heads with their not-so-friendly neighborhood mafia. Well, three kids and one adult; Prince had turned 18 a few months ago. They’d been holed up in their house for too long, paranoid that Larry and his mobsters might show up for a little payback. It didn’t help that there had been a string of missing person reports in the area. To their dismay, their own uncle had disappeared, not to mention that the mob boss himself had vanished soon after they’d deactivated him. He hadn’t been sighted since, though, so Prince and Monica thought an outing would help take their minds off of everything.

They had everything they needed. The weather report had been favorable, yet rain was battering their windows. Prince folded his arms as he heard another clash of thunder. His boredom was replaced with panic as the subsequent flash of lightning struck the tree closest to them.

“Everyone out! Now!” he yelled as the trunk splintered and started to topple towards them. The kids tumbled out of the car and ran off as the tree smashed into the hood. The car alarm screamed.

“Could this trip get any worse?” Monica huffed as she walked around their totaled coupé. She popped the trunk and rummaged around inside.

Prince reached out and pulled her away. “Monica, wait, the engine-”

He was cut off as the crushed engine spat out a plume of smoke and exploded.

The kids stared at their flaming car.

“Shit,” said Hadrian.

Prince sighed. “Yeah.”

They looked around. They thought they’d reach the campsite early in the evening, but the storm had stalled them for so long that night had already come. Prince could hardly see the path ahead of them. “You didn’t happen to pull a flashlight out of there before it blew up, right?” he asked Monica.

Monica looked at the first aid kit she’d rescued. “No.”

“Damn. Well… we shouldn’t just stand around, I guess. Come on,” Prince said to the others. They climbed over the fallen tree and set off down the trail on foot.

The muddy path squelched under their shoes and thorns snagged their clothes as they trudged forward. Prince knew they should hurry, but shrubs and tree roots obscured by the shadows threatened to trip them up and send them face first into the dirt if they walked too fast.

Prince pulled out his cellphone as they moved, grumbling in frustration as the rain impaired the touchscreen. He tried to dial emergency services. No signal. He almost bumped into a traffic barricade in front of him while he was shoving the phone back into his damp pocket. “The hell? What is this doing here?”

He felt Monica tug on his sleeve.

“Do you see that?” Monica asked, pointing into the trees. It took Prince a few seconds to figure out what she was talking about, but he spied a yellow light blinking in the distance.

“What is it?” he wondered.

“I don’t know… but look.” Monica gestured downwards. There was a gravel path leading away from the barricaded trail. It looked like they’d be taking a detour.

“Let’s see if there’s a building there,” Monica suggested. Prince was apprehensive about veering off the main path, but he had no clue how far the campground was, if they were even going in the right direction. Maybe this was a better option. He and the other kids followed her.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the origin of the light. Steel walls stretched into the trees. The faint beams of moonlight that made it through the leaves glinted on the razor wire resting atop the fortifications.

A control panel was affixed to the wall next to the heavy-duty vertical lift door. There was the light source: a yellow diode, flashing on and off in the dark.

Prince peered through the doorway. It was already open. “What is this? A military base?”

Monica knitted her brow. “Maybe, but why would they leave the door like this?”

“I don’t see anyone.” The place gave him an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, but it was freezing, and his clothes were soaked all the way through. He stepped inside.

The dwelling had evidently been abandoned for a long time. One ceiling light persevered, shining weakly in the darkness. The floor was littered with trash and a sticky layer of dust coated the tiles. Corroded storage lockers lined one of the walls. The other was plastered with crappy graffiti.

Prince didn’t see anyone else. He beckoned the others inside. However, right as the last kid stepped through, there was another flash of lightning. The panel next to the door sparked and short circuited. Everyone flinched as the door slammed down with a loud bang.

“What the hell!” Prince exclaimed as he turned around. He gave the door a kick. It didn’t budge. The unlocking mechanism had failed. He tried tinkering with the control panel, but all he got was an electric shock. “Ow.”

Prince knew he wasn’t about to break through solid metal. The kids glanced around the room nervously. “Look for another way out,” Prince told everyone.

There was only one other door on the opposite wall. Monica made her way over and gently pushed it open, but it was just a stairwell leading even deeper down into the building. She shook her head at Prince. “Nothing here.”

Hadrian started to open the old lockers, searching for something that might be useful. He grimaced as he came upon one that wasn’t empty.

“Guys. Look,” Hadrian called out. The others crowded around. It was an all too familiar comedy mask that they’d hoped they would never have to see again. “I don’t think we’re in a military base.”

Prince’s stomach churned at the thought of running into Larry a second time. If he was uneasy before, he was on high alert now. In fact, he was so anxious that he nearly leapt out of his skin when something prodded the back of his leg.

The dog whined and sprang away as well before it ran away and cowered beneath a rotting wooden table. Its fur was patchy and matted. Muddy water was still dripping from it, but it looked like it might have been white underneath all that grime. It must have taken refuge here from the torrential downpour too before they arrived.

“A doggie!” Stephanie squealed in delight. She ran to pet it, but it growled and barked at her when she got close. “Mean doggie,” she pouted.

Prince paid no more attention to the dog. If there was a chance that there were gangsters prowling, he and the kids had to arm themselves. He didn’t see anything of use except a broken rack with a few rusty crowbars on it. He picked one up.

“Guess these will have to do.”

He tossed a couple to Monica and Hadrian.

“Hold up, you want us to go further inside?” Hadrian questioned as he caught the weapon.

“You got a better idea?”

Hadrian looked at the metal door, locked tight. “No,” he mumbled.

The group stood at the stairs. It was pitch black. A sense of déjà vu crept over Prince; it reminded him of the creepy basement back in his house. He dug through his pocket for his lighter and flicked it on, casting enough light down the steps for them to descend. The dog padded after them, though it still recoiled as Stephanie tried to touch it again.

They reached the base of the stairwell. Iron bars lined the walls on either side of them. It was some sort of jail. Prince thought the cells were all empty until someone stood up in the one right next to him.

Everyone yelped in alarm at the figure. Prince held his crowbar up defensively, even though the man was caged, but he looked familiar. He held his lighter up to illuminate his face.

“Uncle Pete?” Prince said, bewildered.

Pete waved. He grabbed the whiteboard attached to his belt. Hi Prince! Open the cell? he wrote.

“But I don’t have the key… oh, wait,” Prince said as he remembered that he was holding a crowbar. He jammed it in between the lock and the doorframe and broke the gate open. “But how did you get here?”

Mafia wanted some of my properties. Locked me up here alone when I wouldn’t transfer ownership, Pete scrawled as he stepped out of the cell.

“Oh, man. We were really worried,” Prince said as everyone wrapped Pete up in a group hug. “Wait a second. Does that mean there are mobsters nearby?”

No. Upper levels of the base are abandoned. Everyone is in lower levels.

Prince’s brow furrowed. Pete looked at him quizzically.

“The entrance malfunctioned. We can’t get out the way we came in,” Prince explained. Pete looked pensive now.

Only other way out is elevator on lowest level. Leads to south exit. Don’t know exactly where it is, but we would have to keep going down. Pete pointed at the other end of the jailhouse. More stairs. They were going to be seeing a lot of those.

The last thing Prince wanted to do was to delve into a criminal hideout, but they didn’t have any other choice. “How deep before we start running into mobsters?” he asked Pete as they walked to the staircase and descended further.

Pretty deep. Not sure about the exact level. I don’t th

Pete stopped writing as they reached the next area and looked around warily. It was some kind of common area, just as derelict as the previous rooms, but something felt off. Prince squinted through the dim lighting. The coffee table was caked with dust, but one handprint-shaped patch was clean.

Someone was in there with them.

Chapter II – Hackerman

Monica guarded herself with her first aid kit as a masked mafioso stood up from behind the couch and swung his crowbar at her. The plastic case cracked, but she retaliated with a jab to his gut with her own weapon. He clutched his abdomen in pain as Monica brought her weapon down on his head, knocking him out.

The guy wasn’t alone. Four of his buddies emerged from hiding while Monica was fending off the first, and they rushed the kids all at once. Pete hastily grabbed the crowbar that the downed mobster had dropped. He attacked one who was coming up on Prince’s side. He and Hadrian were kept busy by a couple of other mafiosos from the front. There was a brief scuffle before Pete managed to land a headshot and knock him unconscious as well.

Hadrian tried to lunge at one of his attackers, but the mobster hooked his crowbar around Hadrian’s own weapon and yanked it out of his hands. With nothing to defend himself, all he could do was shield his face with his arms. There was a crunch as the mobster’s crowbar met his forearm. He cried out in pain. “Fuck! Not again!”

The group withdrew further into the room as the remaining mobsters closed in on them. As their aggressors engaged them again, Prince fumbled and dropped his still-burning lighter amidst the chaos. The dust on the plush carpet ignited instantly. A blockade of smoke and fire materialized surprisingly quickly between him and the mafiosos.

“Come on!” urged Prince retreated through the next door. The dog darted ahead of him, spooked by the flames. Pete and the kids followed, but the mobsters had to fall back to the jailhouse to escape the inferno. It had been a quick fight, but Prince was shaking from the adrenaline. He turned to Pete.

“You said the upper levels were abandoned!”

Pete shrugged his shoulders and shook his head cluelessly. They are! I don’t know what they’re doing here, he wrote.

The blaze cast a flickering orange glow into the hallway they’d ended up in. At least this place looked empty. Monica made Hadrian sit on the ground and started fixing a splint to his arm. He sighed in defeat. They’d only just got here, and he was already out of the fight.

Prince cautiously opened the door next to them. A janitorial closet. He’d lost his lighter in the last room. They weren’t going to be able to see a thing once they left the fire behind, so he went inside and investigated the shelves.

He picked up a flashlight and brushed the dust off. “Lucky us.”

“See if it turns on first,” said Monica skeptically.

Prince flipped the switch. He smacked the flashlight into the palm of his hand a few times when it didn’t turn on. Nothing happened. “Damn it.”

He shoved the flashlight under his coat. Maybe they would come across some batteries later. As Monica finished patching up Hadrian’s arm, the group continued to the elevator on the other end of the hallway. Prince pushed the call button. “I don’t suppose this thing will take us out of here?”

Pete shook his head as the doors slid open. The control panel only contained deeper floors. His finger hovered over the button that would take them the lowest. They didn’t know precisely how far down the inhabited levels were, and he didn’t want to be jumped again as soon as the elevator reopened. He decided to select one of the higher ones. Better safe than sorry, Prince thought.

They said nothing as the elevator closed and took them downwards. They couldn’t see anything except the red LED display above the door. The floor number ticked into the negatives until it ground to a halt unexpectedly.

“Hold up. That’s not the level I chose,” Prince whispered. He could hear everyone shifting around in the dark as they prepared for the worst.

The doors opened. The person outside the elevator screamed and fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see anyone. Prince had his crowbar at the ready, but the guy was clad in a hoodie and jeans instead of one of the tailored suits that the mob usually wore.

“Uh… hi,” said Prince.

“Hey? You guys don’t look like mobsters,” the young man replied as he straightened his sunglasses.

“You don’t, either.”

“’Cause I’m not. What are you doing here if you aren’t one of them?” the stranger asked shiftily.

Prince shrugged. “We ran in here during a thunderstorm. Door malfunctioned. Now we’re trapped.”

The stranger buried his hands in his dark hair. “Are you fucking kidding me? The north exit is jammed? I snuck all the way up here for nothing!”

“You’re sneaking out? Were you a prisoner?” Monica probed.

“Ugh. Yeah, yeah, I was,” mumbled the man, who was now pacing around outside the elevator. “Name’s Helios-”

Hadrian snickered. Helios shot him a look.

“What? It’s a code name! I work for the government. I’m not supposed to tell people my real one.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sure, dude. Whatever.”

“OK, Helios… why were they keeping you down here?” asked Prince.

“I got abducted during the killing purge last year. They’ve been making me work for them. I’m a hacker,” Helios explained. “I managed to slip away from my station a while ago. They went batshit looking for me. It was a nightmare getting up here, and now I have to go all the way back down,” he groaned.

“Really? So you know where the south exit is,” Prince surmised.

Helios held up his phone. “Yeah. I got a blueprint of this place.” He stepped into the elevator with them, but he pursed his lips when he saw which level they had been heading towards. “Nah. That’s the first populated level. The guards would’ve rocked your shit. Get outta this thing,” he urged, gesturing for them to follow him into the floor they were at: a computer room. Most of the computers were powered off and missing keyboards, save for one, which had been plugged into one of the power outlets. Helios must have been using it.

“Any chance you can fix the door upstairs? I think it short circuited,” Monica inquired.

“No shot. I’m a hacker. Not an electrician. But like I said, I know exactly where the south exit is,” Helios responded. The group looked at his phone as he pulled up his map of the base. He marked the spot where the exit was. This place had a lot more floors than Prince had expected.

“This is going to suck,” he murmured.

“Tell me about it. We gotta go on foot, too, ‘cause this elevator won’t take us to the right place,” said Helios as he beckoned them out of the computer lab.

The corridors here were tight and winding. Their footsteps echoed through the metal walls, rough with oxidization and lined with rusty pipes. Stagnant water still dripped from some of them.

Prince grew anxious as he followed Helios. They’d been walking for a while without reaching any stairs or elevators. “Helios, where are you taking us? We’re still on the same floor,” he questioned.

“Relax. We’re making a pit stop,” Helios replied, waving Prince’s concern away.

“Dude, we don’t have time-“

Helios shushed him. They were in front of a door with a round window. Prince peered over Helios’s shoulder to see inside. He’d taken them to a kitchen, and Prince realized that they did, in fact, need to eat.

“How do you know there’s still food in here?” he asked the hacker.

Helios shushed him again. “I came here while I was on the way to the top level. Lower your damn voice. There’s someone inside,” he hissed.

Prince took a closer look through the round window. The oven was on. There was a mobster leaning against the countertop, facing away from them. Only one. “What is that guy doing all the way up here?” he whispered.

“No idea, but he’s alone. Just go bonk him,” Helios encouraged.

Prince moved forward Helios stepped out of the way. He put a hand on the door and gradually eased it open. Thankfully, the hinges didn’t squeak, so he crept inside until he was right behind the mafioso. Prince raised his crowbar.

The door clicked shut. The mobster whirled around at the noise. Prince faltered. His mouth hung open slightly in disbelief as he recognized the mafioso.

“Isaiah?”

Isaiah was scrambling for his own crowbar, but he paused when he heard his name. “Prince?”

Prince let his arm fall to his side. “What the actual shit? You’re still working for the mob?” he exclaimed.

“Why the hell are you in the base?” Isaiah blurted out in an equally baffled tone.

The door creaked as Helios edged it open. “Prince? You good?”

Hadrian pushed him out of the way with his good arm. “Nice to see a familiar face,” he said.

Isaiah looked even more confounded as Pete and the kids emerged. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

Prince was beginning to get tired of recounting that. “There’s a storm outside. Ran in here. North entrance short circuited. Stuck. Explain why you’re here,” he demanded.

“Because I work here, dumbass,” Isaiah snapped. “You can’t just leave the mafia. They hunt deserters down… not to mention that I got fired from Builder Brothers. The owner found out I had ties to the mob, and now this is the only job I can get,” he muttered bitterly.

Prince scowled, but he supposed Isaiah had a point. “OK, I get it, but why is Larry still letting you work here? You helped us deactivate him.”

“He’s not in charge anymore. Haven’t seen him since that sewer brawl, actually. Someone else took over his duties,” Isaiah revealed.

Prince’s eyebrows shot up. “But a bunch of mobsters ran off with his body. It was on the news. They must have reactivated him, right?”

“Nope. He didn’t show up here, as far as I know. No idea what happened to him.”

The kids glanced at each other uneasily. “Who’s in charge now, then?” said Prince.

“Never met her, but her name is Mary Gearwise.”

“Gearwise? Let me guess, another automaton? Where are all these killer robots coming from?”

Isaiah shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m just a grunt… wait, aren’t you the hacker that escaped a while ago?” he realized, pointing at Helios.

The hacker looked at him warily. “Maybe. Your friend isn’t gonna turn me in, right?” he asked Prince.

“I ain’t no snitch,” laughed Isaiah.

“Then will you help us get out of the base?” Prince implored.

Isaiah’s smile faded. “Man, do you have any idea what they’ll do to me if I get caught with you guys?”

“Come on, at least help us until we start running into goons. You can wear your mask. They won’t know who you are.”

The mobster picked up his mask from the counter. He mulled Prince’s words over as he looked at it. “I guess so.”

The oven dinged. “On a lighter note… pizza’s done.” Isaiah grabbed an old mitt and pulled the serving board out and placed it on the countertop.

Prince had forgotten about the oven. “Why the hell are you making a pizza all the way up here?” Helios questioned incredulously, gesturing around at the soiled kitchen.

Isiah scratched his neck. “I got hungry, and I didn’t wanna share it with the other guys, OK? So I took a frozen pizza up here.”

“You were gonna eat a whole pizza?”

“Shut up. You guys can have some if you want. You probably aren’t gonna get your hands on food again until you make it out of here,” Isaiah told everyone.

As they ate, the dog nudged the door open with his nose and squeezed through. He’d stayed outside, but it seemed that the smell of cooking had enticed him. Stephanie held out a slice of pizza and tried to coax him closer. The dog gingerly took the slice in his mouth and devoured it ravenously.

Stephanie giggled. The dog let her pet him this time. She read the name tag on his collar. “Twado!” she squeaked. Twado wagged his tail.

The dog chewed on the empty pizza box as Isaiah looked at his watch. He pulled a flashlight out from under his jacket. “We gotta go. I better get you guys out of here while most of the base is asleep,” he said as he motioned for the group to follow him.

They reached a crossroad after a while. “Dude, the map says the closest stairwell is that way,” Helios contested, jabbing a thumb at the right passageway as Isaiah turned left.

“Your map is old. We never update those things. I know a short-”

Isaiah stopped talking mid-sentence as a rusty pipe on the ceiling ruptured in front of him. Scalding hot water hissed as it splashed against the cold metal floor and turned to steam. He didn’t fancy third-degree burns. “Damn. Guess we’re taking the long way around.”

They trailed through the narrow corridors behind the mobster in silence until Prince’s soles started to get sore. Too many stairs, but they eventually ran into a door.

Isaiah reached for the handle. “I think—SHIT!”

He jerked his hand back as the pipe next to the door burst as well, but it wasn’t water that erupted. Isaiah ripped his glove off and threw it to the ground as the substance ate through it.

“What the hell is that?” Price exclaimed.

“It’s the stuff we poured into the sewers last purge. Thought we shut off all the valves already. I need to quit coming up here,” muttered the mafioso. “Nevermind. There’s another way in this room.” He turned to the door on the opposite wall and pushed it open.

They were in an old dormitory. The entrance to the stairwell was on the other side of the room. “As I was saying, I think the next level down is… uh…”

Isaiah stopped in the middle of the room and went silent. He looked up at the entresol. More than a few doors were slightly ajar.

“Isaiah? Something wrong?” Prince whispered.

“The doors were shut last time I was here,” he whispered back.

It was another ambush. The mafiosos threw the dormitory doors open and jumped down from the entresol. Prince cried out as one of them landed on him. He lost his weapon as he wrestled on the floor with the aggressor and grunted in pain when he felt something sharp pierce his side. Twado ran over and clamped his fangs around the mafioso’s leg.

Isaiah hurriedly pulled his mask over his face as more mobsters jumped down and confronted him.

“Is that you, Isa-”

He silenced his colleague with a crowbar to the face before he could get his name out. The other two elected to simply charge at him and Helios without any pleasantries. He dropped his flashlight as they clashed.

Prince felt around for his crowbar in the dark as Twado dragged his attacker away. He heard a yelp Monica clocked the mobster on the head.

Pete stood in front of Hadrian and Stephanie as two more advanced on them. They laughed as they brandished their weapons. “Why don’t you put that crowbar down before you hurt yourself, old man?” one of them snickered. Hadrian covered his sister’s eyes.

Prince found his weapon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He looked over at his uncle as one mobster seized his crowbar while the other delivered a strike to his head, but they turned around as he and Monica came up behind them. Prince tore the blade out of his side and drove it into one of the unsuspecting mobsters’ eyes. She screamed and reeled as Monica aimed a blow at the other mafioso, who sidestepped the hit, but now Prince was coming at him as well.

The mobster made a dash for the stairs, only to run into Isaiah. The two mobsters who’d been accosting him lay in a pile. Isaiah promptly sliced his associate’s throat open using a switchblade of his own. He clutched at the wound and gasped for air, but he could only cough and choke on his blood.

Isaiah scowled beneath his mask at all the noise his victim was making and shut him up with a sharp blow to the skull. He crumpled to the ground, still wheezing and spluttering while unconscious.

That was the last of them. Hadrian picked up Pete’s fallen sunglasses for him. He put them back on as Monica pulled Prince’s bloodied coat off.

“How bad is it?” Prince asked.

Monica grabbed the flashlight from the ground at held it up to inspect Prince’s wound. “Well, since you’re still standing, it’s probably not that deep. I’d put you on bed rest, but…”

She didn’t bother finishing. There was no time for bed rest in this place, of course. There was nothing she could do except clean it and stitch it up.

“They were waiting for us. How did they know you were here?” Isaiah wondered.

Prince shrugged. “We were attacked earlier as well on one of the top levels. I don’t suppose you have security cameras around here?”

“No. Not since…” Isaiah gestured at Helios.

“I knocked them offline while I was trying to escape,” the hacker said. “I know for a fact they’re still down. They couldn’t have seen you.”

Isaiah paced around the dormitory wordlessly as Monica sutured Prince’s wound shut, deep in thought. He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on. We have to-”

He stopped talking as the mobster next to him stirred. There was a crunch as Isaiah stomped on his neck, killing him. Everyone else winced.

“What the hell, Isaiah? That’s not necessary,” Prince admonished.

“Yes, it was. He saw my face earlier. I told you I’m fucked if one of these assholes reports me.”

“He was already unconscious!”

Isaiah got up in Prince’s face, but Helios interrupted their spat before he could say anything. “You two better start getting along, ‘cause we need to make a plan,” he said as he nudged Isaiah away and planted himself between them. He gestured all around at the fallen mafiosos. “We’re gonna be running into plenty of these guys when we reach the bottom of those stairs.”

“Oh. Right. That’s what I was trying to tell you guys earlier. It’s a good thing we ended up in here, actually,” Isaiah said as he disappeared into one of the dorms. They heard him rooting around inside until he came out with a bunch of suits and masks slung over his shoulder, a little faded with age, but still wearable. He dumped them in a pile on the ground. “Ol’ reliable. Everyone put one of these things on.”

Prince pulled a duffel bag out of the pile while he was looking for something his size. “What’s this for?”

“That’s for Twado,” said Isaiah.

Twado gave him the side-eye.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. The boss doesn’t allow dogs in here. You’ll blow our cover if anyone sees you.”

The dog allowed Isaiah to lower him into the bag, but then the group encountered the same problem as last time. Stephanie was sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Maybe we can hide her in the middle of the group again?” Prince suggested.

Isaiah shook his head. “It’s not gonna work. The hallways aren’t wide enough.”

The mafioso drummed his fingers on the strap of the duffel bag. Nobody else was offering up any ideas.

“I know what we can do,” he spoke hesitantly. Everyone looked at him.

Prince blinked. “Well? Spit it out.”

Isaiah held up a hand. “Don’t get mad at me for it.”

Prince’s eyes narrowed.

“First of all, this base is part of a sex trafficking ring,” said Isaiah.

“You better not be about to say any dumb shit.”

Isaiah held up both hands now. “Just listen! We pretend,” he continued, enunciating the ‘pretend’ very clearly, “that Stephanie is one of the girls we abducted—”

“You guys take little girls for that?” Hadrian admonished.

“Look, man, I just work in the canteen. This place didn’t even have a human trafficking branch when I got here. As I was saying, we pretend she’s a…”

Isaiah trailed off as Prince stared daggers.

“Prisoner,” the mobster said slowly. When the elder brother didn’t throttle him, he kept talking. “The shortest path to the exit involves one of the, uh, filming areas, so that’ll be her excuse to be there.”

Helios looked at his blueprint. “He’s right. There’s gonna be another elevator at the end of the filming area’s hallway.” He zoomed in on the location.

Isaiah leaned over to inspect the map as well. “We can ride it to that detention level and act like we’re taking her to a holding cell,” he said as he pointed out a floor below the filming area, “but we can veer away towards the west edge of the base. That place is as deserted as the upper levels. We’ll make our way through there until we reach the lowest level. After that… it gets more difficult.”

“No kidding,” Helios agreed. “That’s where the boss lives. The whole floor is teeming with goons, but the ventilation shafts that far underground are so big that we can fit through them. So, we sneak over to where the elevator is. Get out of the vents while nobody’s looking. Ride it all the way up to the south exit. No sweat,” he schemed as he drew a path with his finger from their location to the exit.

Prince still looked vaguely pissed off, but he nodded. “OK. Fine. Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter III – Incident Report

Prince squinted as his troupe reached the bottom of the stairwell. The fluorescent lights were harsh on his eyes after they’d wandered around in the dark for hours. He scrunched up his face in revulsion as the smell hit him. The filming area reeked of stale sweat and perhaps other fluids that he preferred not to think about.

“There,” Isaiah whispered to Prince, pointing at the elevator on the other end of the corridor. “Hold onto Stephanie and walk in front of us.”

Prince took Stephanie gently by the hand and followed Isaiah down the corridor.

They were alone at first, but Prince was startled as a door next to them opened. A pair of mobsters shoved a girl into the hall with nothing but a worn-out blanket around her shoulders. She stared through Prince with dead eyes as the mafiosos forced her onwards.

The two groups didn’t speak as they passed each other, but one of the mafiosos brushed a lock of dark hair out of Stephanie’s face and leered at her with yellowed teeth as he strolled by. Prince’s hand tightened around his crowbar until his knuckles were white.

Time felt like it was passing agonizingly slowly as they walked. Prince’s face darkened as they passed another door. He could hear the sounds of a struggle inside. A scream pierced the air. He came to a halt as he unwillingly recalled the purge he’d endured. He felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced back at Isaiah. His face was concealed, but Prince could tell the mobster was stone-faced from his eyes. So was his family, staring back at him through their masks. The sight was unnerving, even though he knew it was only them.

“Keep going. There’s nothing you can do for her now,” whispered Isaiah.

Prince turned stiffly and continued on their path.

There were no more disturbances. They made it to the elevator without any resistance. Isaiah punched in the access code and pressed the button for the detention level.

Helios sighed deeply as the doors closed. “That was unpleasant.”

Nobody was in the mood to respond.

Isaiah spoke up as they neared their destination floor. “We have to get the Warden to open the entrance for us. There’s a one-way exit in the holding area that leads to the west edge. No one is allowed to use it, but the cams are off, so who cares. Just let me do the talking. And one more thing: the audio feed is still running, so keep quiet until we get out of there,” he told everyone as the elevator reopened. The mafioso took the lead this time.

The Warden was resting his elbow on the desk with his face in his palm. He’d been looking at his reflection in his dimmed computer screen as he styled his fiery orange mohawk with a free hand, but his lidded eyes followed Isaiah as he approached. He stared at the newcomers, uninterested in initiating a conversation with them.

“Markus. New inmate,” Isaiah said.

Markus turned his eyes to the computer on his table. “The boss didn’t tell me of any new arrivals today,” he replied flatly.

“We haven’t notified her about this one yet. You’re the first to know. Good for you. Open up,” demanded Isaiah.

The Warden lifted his head from his hand. He narrowed his eyes again, now in skepticism instead of tiredness. Prince put himself in front of Hadrian, hopefully obscuring the boy’s splint. “Why did a little girl need five people escorting her here?”

“What the hell am I being interrogated for? This is the rest of my patrol group. We just got back. Quit wasting my time and open the fucking door,” Isaiah snapped.

Markus sighed. “Whatever. Cell 047,” he told the mobster as he stood up. The guy was even taller than Isaiah, Prince realized, and he was wide enough that he had to leave his too-small tuxedo jacket unbuttoned. He entered a string of numbers into the keypad next to the entrance. The blast door screeched open. “Get out of my face,” said the Warden as he waved them inside.

Prince looked straight ahead. Whatever was behind all the steel doors lining the passageway, he didn’t want to see. Markus closed the entrance behind them as they walked away.

Everyone did as Isaiah had said and kept silent until they reached the exit. A lone spider was busy spinning a web on the doorframe. Tough luck for him. The door squealed as Isaiah opened it and beckoned everyone through.

“Alright, we’re in the clear,” he said after he shut the exit.

The concrete corridor ahead looked strangely sterile at first, but a thin film of dust had settled on the ground upon closer inspection. Nobody had been here in a while.

“Where are we?” Prince asked.

Isaiah took off his mask and looked back at him as they made their way through the hall. “It used to be the chem sector when Larry was in charge. Miss Gearwise decommissioned it after she took over. She’s more interested in biotech and cybernetics, apparently. Most of her stuff is on the bottom floor, though.”

Prince peered through the windowpanes in the doors as Isaiah let Twado out of the duffel bag. Glassware and machinery were set up on the tables as if the users had left in a hurry. Binders full of notes and documents were still open on the desks. Even the lights were still on.

“Looks like she couldn’t wait to shut this place down,” Prince remarked.

Isaiah didn’t look at him now. He just shrugged.

Prince wished the mafioso would talk a little more, because the silence here was even more eerie than it had been in the derelict upper levels. The laboratory looked too clean and orderly. It felt wrong for it to be deserted. He was almost glad when the blindingly white walls gave way to rough stone and steel floors as they moved yet deeper into the base.

They were surrounded by a mess of tubing and shafts as they walked. There were no walls here at all to hide the plumbing and ventilation systems.

“Where are we now?” Prince wondered out loud.

“Still in the chem lab. Larry wasn’t one for frills. He didn’t bother with dressing the place up when he expanded it downwards,” Isaiah answered.

“You know a lot about that guy. Didn’t you only know him for a few days before we took him out?” Hadrian remarked. Isaiah shot him a glare over his shoulder, but not before Monica elbowed her little brother. The last thing they needed was to piss their guide off, even if he might be keeping secrets.

The mobster’s dark irises looked black in the low lighting. “You know I hate it when people ask too many questions, right? I hear the other mafiosos talking about him sometimes, is all,” he claimed as he turned away.

Maybe it was for the best that he and the rest of the group didn’t talk much. The sound of dripping water and air flowing through the vents suited Prince just fine now, but after a while, his ears picked up something that was neither of those. Thumping? It wasn’t quite loud enough for him to tell.

“Do you guys hear that?”

Isaiah paused. “Hear what?”

They all listened, but whatever noise Prince heard had stopped now. “Nevermind. It’s gone.”

Isaiah pursed his lips in annoyance at the interruption and continued forward. Prince didn’t notice any more strange sounds, and he’d started to think he’d been imagining it until he heard it again, much louder this time. Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked up. The rusted ventilation panel above them was starting to buckle. “Get back!” Isaiah whispered harshly.

The old screws snapped apart and the vent gave way. Out tumbled a stout man in a trench coat. He grunted in discomfort as he landed in a heap in front of the group. He scrambled to his feet after he glanced up and realized he wasn’t alone, but his panic was short-lived as he beheld the bizarre caravan in front of him. They stared back, equally perplexed. The guy looked like he’d been ripped straight out of a generic mystery film.

Isaiah had pulled his mask over his face once more, but he cautiously removed it again when he saw that it wasn’t one of his own associates who had shown up. “Who the hell are you?”

The man hesitated, seemingly reluctant to reveal that, but Pete pushed his way to the front of the gathering. The stranger’s face lit up.

“Peter! It’s been too long!” he exclaimed as he slapped his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “But what are you doing here?”

Pete scribbled a few sentences on his whiteboard. Kidnapped. My nieces and nephews are trapped here as well. North exit broke down. Looking for the other one.

“The north exit malfunctioned? How odd,” the stranger pondered.

Pete turned back towards the group and wrote again.

“Detective Bradley Beans,” Prince read out loud.

Bradley snapped out of his musings. “Hm? Oh, yes, that’s me. I was assigned to spy on the mob’s activities here. I’ve been using the ventilation system to stay out of sight, but…”

He eyed the broken vent.

“Perhaps I ought to lose a few pounds. Very fortunate that I was in the west edge.” Bradley picked his fallen umbrella up from the ground. “Anyway, Pete here was a coworker of mine before he retired. Good to see you again, old man,” said the Detective, patting the old man on the back.

“Wow. How long have you been hiding here?” Prince asked.

“Almost a year. I arrived soon after the last purge. I heard all about your battle with Mr. Clockturn. Very remarkable, though I wish the national guard would have moved in a bit quicker… kids shouldn’t have to wrangle crime lords,” grumbled Bradley, shaking his head. His gaze shifted to Isaiah. “Who is your, er, companion?”

“This is Isaiah. He helped us during the purge. And now he’s helping us find our way out of here,” Prince explained.

“I see. Well, there’s no use in dallying here, then. I was actually on my way out as well. Care to lead the way, Isaiah?” Bradley invited, motioning for the mobster to go on ahead of him. He did.

Maybe he shouldn’t pry, but Prince was curious. “So… you’ve been investigating the mob? What did you see?” he asked as they walked.

The Detective’s face grew serious. “One of the reasons I was sent here was to find out what happened to Mr. Clockturn after his body was taken. I already had a hunch that Miss Gearwise had a hand in his disappearance. The evidence I’ve compiled confirmed it. He’s in here somewhere.”

Trepidation rippled through the group.

“I haven’t seen him, but I overheard the personnel in the cybernetics sector speaking of him. The papers I managed to nick suggest Miss Gearwise has been performing experiments on him, and it doesn’t seem that he’s a willing participant.”

“What kind of experiments?” Prince questioned.

Bradley’s brow was crumpled in worry. “The documents didn’t detail their nature or purpose, I’m afraid. I went looking for some that did, but I came up empty handed… Miss Gearwise has put a lot of effort into keeping her activities secret. I suspect he’s being held in the bottommost level, but it was too risky to go poking around there.”

Hadrian rolled his eyes. “Sucks to be him, but what is he? Who is making these freaks?”

Bradley opened his mouth to answer, but then he frowned, stopping himself. “It’s classified info. I assure you that law enforcement has it handled.”

There was a door in their way, but it refused to open when Isaiah put his hand on the push bar. Prince looked at the keypad next to it. “Please tell me you know the code.”

“No need for that.” Isaiah dug through his pocket for his keycard and inserted it into the side of the pad. The door unlocked with a click, and he shoved it open with unneeded force. The mobster had been quiet, but Prince observed that he was becoming more and more vexed as Bradley recounted his findings. Cops and gangsters weren’t exactly friends, of course, but he thought Isaiah’s reactions were still a little over the top.

Isaiah went ahead, but everyone else was reluctant to enter the new area. A metal bridge was suspended over a wide pool of roiling red liquid.

Prince stepped onto the crossing uncertainly. The fumes stung his eyes. “Isaiah? What is that?”

The mafioso turned around. “This is where we made the chemical we emptied into the sewers.” His shoes clanked softly against the bridge’s metal lattices as he continued across. “We’ll be fine. Just don’t fall in,” he reminded Prince. He seemed pretty sure of himself, so everybody followed.

They heard heavy footsteps approaching long before they could reach the other side. Isaiah redonned his mask. “This is the worst possible time.” He looked back at the door they’d entered from.

The Warden’s huge shadow approached. He kicked the entrance open and stepped onto the bridge, followed closely by four of his pals. “I knew you guys were up to some bullshit,” he muttered as he motioned for the other mafiosos to charge.

Markus looked like he could drop all of them on his own, but Prince knew they wouldn’t make it to the exit before their assailants reached them. His fist clenched around his weapon. He might be able to shove the big guy off the bridge if he was deft enough…

Isaiah had different plans. He jammed his crowbar through a joint in the bridge and gritted his teeth as he strained to pry the two sections apart. Realizing what the mobster was doing, Prince knelt down to help out. They jumped back as soon as they heard the rusty screws break.

Markus held out his arm to stop his cronies from going any further. The bridge section in front of him slanted dangerously towards the corrosive liquid far below.

The Warden shook his head. “Back up. I have a better idea,” he said as he ushered the other mobsters back into the hallway.

Isaiah’s eyes widened. “MOVE!” he shouted as he bolted towards the exit.

Too slow. The lock engaged right before he touched the door. He punched it in frustration. “Damn it!” he roared as an alarm bell rang through the chamber.

“Isaiah? What does that mean?” Prince asked as the hazard lights on the walls blinked on. He looked at Monica as she tapped his shoulder and saw that she was staring at the red liquid under them. It was rising. He looked up at Isaiah again.

“The doors seal automatically when someone brings the liquid level up.” Isaiah pointed at the console attached to the wall. “We have to reactivate the drawdown system, but I don’t know the passcode,” he explained hastily.

Prince’s gaze darted between Isaiah and the keypad. “Won’t your keycard work?”

“Fucking look, man! There’s no slot for the keycard here!”

Helios pushed him out of the way. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he fished a USB drive out of his sling bag and inserted it into one of the console’s ports. Prince heard him typing as fast as he could while the caustic chemicals hissed and simmered against the bridge’s supports.

“Uh, Isaiah? Aren’t the beams corrosion resistant?” Hadrian asked, his voice quivering.

Isaiah kept his eyes on the framework beneath them as it sizzled. “Yeah…? But we were never allowed to bring the liquid level this high back when the chem lab was-”

He stopped speaking abruptly as the scaffolds creaked and the bridge started to tilt. Everyone shuffled around anxiously, inching towards the locked door. Twado ran back and forth across the bridge frenetically, but there was nowhere to go.

“Quit bunching up like sardines! You guys are gonna collapse this thing faster,” Monica warned. “Helios? How much longer?”

“Chill. I almost got it,” the hacker replied as the bridge continued to waver.

Prince heard something snap below them as the console beeped and the alarms shut off. They all let out a collective sigh of relief as the liquid began receding, but the support beams were already done for. Helios was nearly flattened as everyone barreled through the exit. They heard the bridge splash into the chemicals behind them.

Markus had been watching them through the window on the other door. He slammed his fist against the wall as he saw the intruders escape before moving out of sight.

“That was a bit too close for comfort,” Bradley breathed.

Isaiah glared at him. “Yeah. It was. The vent you guys are looking for is right at the end of the tunnel.” He said, jabbing a thumb behind him. “Find the elevator yourselves. I’m outta here.”

“What? Come on, man,” Prince implored, reaching out to stop him. “At least point out the right shaft-“

The mobster shrugged him off. “No! You guys have dragged me too far into your shit,” he spat. “And Markus saw your faces, you know. He’s probably on his way to tell Miss Gearwise all about you, so get going,” he finished, waving them off. Isaiah turned away into a connecting corridor and left them alone.

Chapter IV – Interlude

The apertures of Larry’s optical sensors contracted in discomfort as the lights switched on. He heard Mary’s high heels clicking softly against the floor as she stepped into his view, a lab coat thrown over her viridian dress. The disgraced crime boss struggled in his restraints, but that hadn’t worked before, and it wasn’t working now. Mary tittered at his efforts as Larry sighed and went limp on the operating table.

“Good evening, Larry. Or morning, rather. I think it’s past midnight,” she laughed, her tone maddeningly cavalier in contrast to what she was about to do. A glower was Larry’s only response.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Mary walked out of his field of vision and opened one of the cabinets in the operating room. Larry could only listen to her preparing the necessary apparatus, her tools clinking against the steel tray. “All I’ve done is try to help you, and all I get in return is insults and vitriol.”

A few wisps of steam seeped from the ventilation slits on Larry’s face. He’d heard Mary voice her false concern for him too many times. “Who do you think you’re fooling?” he growled.

Larry heard the flames roar indignantly in Mary’s firebox. The tools on her tray rattled as she set it down on the stand next to the surgical table forcefully. She wasn’t smiling any more as she walked to the head of the table. She placed her hands on either side of him and leaned in.

“Stop behaving as if you don’t understand me, Larry. You were deactivated by a pack of children and allowed the purge to end early. You are worthless to this organization as you are. You were weak and I fixed you, whether you and your overblown ego can admit it or not,” she hissed, her breath blisteringly hot against his metallic skin. It would have been painful back when he’d still had flesh to melt… but that was a long time ago.

Larry clenched his fists at her words. His claws grated against the palms of his hands. “Overblown ego? You’re the one who painted your casing,” he spat, sneering at the Mary’s conceit.

Mary smirked, her moodiness fading as abruptly as it had appeared. “Ha! Am I vain for taking care of myself? You look like you haven’t been polished in years,” she taunted. The bright lights glinted on her pearly white coating as she stood up straight and returned to her tray of implements. “But I think that’s enough small talk.”

She reached out and loosened the buttons on his shirt. Larry snapped his metal jaws at her hand, but she pulled away before he could catch her fingers in his teeth.

He heard Mary pick up one of her tools. A mechanical buzzing filled the operating theater. He strained against his fetters again. This was the moment he’d been dreading for so long.

Mary loomed over him, the ghost of a smile on her lime green lips. The surgical lamp formed a halo of harsh fluorescent light around her as she brought the metal cutter to his chest.

Chapter V – Judgement Hall

Prince let his arm fall limply to his side as he watched Isaiah disappear around the bend. Helios patted him on the shoulder once the mobster was out of earshot. “We’ll be fine without him. I told you I know where the elevator is. Let’s go,” he said, gently urging Prince to start down the other hallway.

Helios led them now, and he walked fast. There was no telling how long they had before Markus tipped the boss off to their whereabouts. They didn’t have any trouble finding the vent, but Helios didn’t have anything to open it with. “Anyone got a screwdriver handy? I, uh, left mine in my hoodie when we got changed,” he admitted.

Bradley searched his overcoat for his screwdriver, but he gave Helios an odd look as he did. “Agent Helios? Is that you?”

The hacker’s jaw tightened. “Just get the vent open, old man.”

Prince cocked an eyebrow. “You guys know each other?”

Helios looked at Bradley disdainfully as the Detective knelt down and unscrewed the panel. “This asshole was one of the guys who arrested me a few years back. I used to be a part of Anonymous.”

Bradley’s face grew sour at the hacker’s enmity, but he ignored him.

Oblivious to the tension, Hadrian’s eyes lit up. “Whoa! You were in Anonymous? That’s cool as fuck!”

“But you work for the government now,” Prince pointed out. “How did that happen?”

“They gave me a choice when they brought me in. Work for them or go to the slammer. I think it’s pretty obvious which one I chose.”

The last screw clinked to the ground. Bradley moved the vent cover aside and gestured wordlessly for Helios to enter first.

Stephanie faltered in front of the opening, her face blank. She’d been growing quieter and quieter as they ventured further into the base, retreating into herself, but Prince didn’t know what he could do except keep her close. He crouched down to her level and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Monica and I will go in front of you, OK? Just follow us. We’ll be…”

He stopped himself. He didn’t know when they were going to be home.

“We’ll be out of here soon. I promise.”

She nodded silently. The eldest siblings went first. Stephanie slowly clambered into the duct after them.

The passage was wide enough that they didn’t have to crawl, but they were almost bent double as they wormed through the cramped shaft. Prince almost thought he could discern distant screams, but maybe it was only the air rustling in his ears as it rushed through the tunnel around them.

He followed close behind Helios, whose nose was buried in his phone, examining the map as he walked. Prince could see the rooms they were passing through the narrow slots in the vent panels. Dorms. Armories. Warehouses. Computer labs. Workshops and laboratories. He paused as they passed an office.

Monica nearly bumped into him. “Prince? What’s the hold up?” she whispered. Helios halted and glanced back to look at him quizzically as well when he heard him stop walking.

Prince peered through the ventilation slits. “It’s an office. I see Markus.”

Helios and Monica crowded in next to Prince to take a look for themselves. Markus wasn’t alone. They couldn’t make out the conversation, but the Warden was speaking to a woman noticeably taller than him. Her hair, tied into a bun, was unnaturally reflective, and so was her pale opaline skin.

“It’s the boss,” Helios murmured.

Bradley piped up from the back of the lineup, careful to keep his voice low. “We don’t have time to dawdle here, then. We’ve got to get to the elevator before they figure out where we are.”

Prince lingered for a moment longer. Mary didn’t look too pleased with whatever the Warden was telling her. She glanced towards the vent. Her emerald LED eyes met with his for a instant. Prince’s blood froze in his veins.

Mary’s eyes flitted back to Markus before he could react, though, and there was no change in her hard visage. Maybe he was mistaken. She hadn’t seen him. He told himself so, at least.

“Dude? You okay?”

Prince was brought out of his thoughts by Helios’s voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Uh, Bradley is right. Let’s hurry up,” he stammered, suddenly very eager to get moving again.

Helios didn’t delay. They weren’t far from their target now, and it wasn’t long before he spied their exit elevator from behind a vent.

“There!” he whispered, but he hesitated. “I don’t see anyone, though. Is this place always so empty?”

The hall was dark and devoid of mobsters. Nobody could answer Helios’s question, of course. Prince wished Isaiah was here to tell them whether it was shady or not. Either way, this simplified things. They didn’t have to figure out how to get out of the ventilation system without looking suspicious.

They couldn’t reach the screws from the inside of the vent, so Helios stuck his crowbar in between the wall and the panel and pried until the cover snapped open. Everyone squeezed out, but when they stood before the elevator, they saw that none of the buttons or indicators were lit. Prince pushed one. Nothing happened.

There was a shrill bout of audio feedback as the intercoms in the hall switched on. The corridor reverberated with a woman’s bitter, derisive laughter. “Don’t bother. I already disabled it. You won’t be going anywhere, boy. You and your friends have broken into my base and caused me a lot of trouble.”

Prince was too cowed to respond. Monica spoke instead.

“We didn’t break in! Your shitty door malfunctioned and trapped us inside. We don’t even want to be here. Let us leave,” Monica demanded.

“I don’t think so. After all, how many of my guards have you massacred?” Mary reminded them.

“Oh, please. You talk like these kids were the instigators,” Bradley rebuked.

“Detective Beans! I knew there was an informant in here. And now I don’t even need to hunt you down,” Mary gloated. “You came here looking for Larry, didn’t you? You can forget about that. I doubt you’ll be living long enough to see him.”

The blast door at the other end of the hallway opened up. The lights blinked on. The group realized that they weren’t as alone as they thought. They could see the silhouettes of mobsters through the windows lining the corridor, glaring at them through their uncanny purge masks.

“This should be fun,” quipped Mary. The intercom switched off with a thunk.

With no other choice, the group hesitantly made their way to the door. Heat radiated from the adjoining room, though it turned out that calling it a room was an understatement. The cavern was gigantesque. The walls on either side were thick metal. The jagged granite on the opposite side of the entrance was left unrefined, save for the wall of the control room and the mezzanine that Mary was standing upon, glowering down at them from high above. Molten lava churned below the metal platform ahead of them, linked to their door by nothing except a rickety rope bridge. Prince was reluctant to walk across. The thing didn’t look like it would hold their combined weight.

There were footsteps from their rear. The mafiosos were skulking towards them now, brandishing their weapons, compelling them forward.

They were boxed in, so Prince took a tentative step onto the bridge. The boards creaked as he walked onto the platform. The bridge gave way and fell into the lava after everyone had crossed—one of the mobsters had severed the ropes with his knife behind them. Prince looked up at Mary, wondering what her plan was. He couldn’t see much more than her glowing eyes in the darkness overhead.

“Ah, we meet at last… though it seems that some of your allies have deserted you,” Mary laughed. Her voice was shrill and tinny compared to Larry’s baritone, but it echoed through the cave all the same.

They glanced around at each other. She was right. Prince hadn’t been paying attention, but Helios and Uncle Pete had not followed them in.

“No matter. My subordinates will deal with them,” she continued. With that out of the way, Mary looked the gathering up and down as she leaned on her crowbar. “You’re aware there were firearms in the supply depots, right? I know you passed a few of those on your way here,” she told them, quirking an eyebrow.

Prince wasn’t too sad that they’d missed the guns—the rounds would probably ricochet right off Mary’s casing anyway—but Mary’s jeering was making him more annoyed than afraid. “Did you bring us in here for a fight or to talk shit at us?”

Mary narrowed her eyes at his provocation. She beckoned one of the operatives inside the control room. Markus came out and handed her violin to her. She placed it beneath her chin and drew her crowbar across the strings, producing a poignant melody, and Prince immediately heard burbling from the pipeline at the edge of the platform. There was a thin scraping noise as the valve’s handwheel turned on its own.

Everyone retreated towards the other end of the platform as lava spilled out of the pipe, but it streamed until they were backed up to the very edge. Any closer and the heat would start to sear them.

However, as they teetered on the edge, the valve screeched shut and the lava flow spluttered out. The group glanced around at each other, both relieved and confused.

There was a discordant twang Mary’s music faltered. Bewilderment crossed her sharp features. It appeared that she didn’t know what was happening, either. She started to play again after a moment, but the valve made a stubborn scraping noise, refusing to reopen.

Mary scowled deeply. She played a different tune this time. The lava started to drain, but their respite was short-lived as she thrust her violin back into Markus’s hands and jumped down from the mezzanine. There was a resounding bang as her high heels met steel, sending a tremor across the platform.

“Let’s dance.”

Chapter VI – Gearwise

Clang. Whirr. Prince had heard that once before, but now he was ready for it as Mary bolted at him, buzzsaws unsheathed. The blades whined in his ear as he rolled out of the way. He managed to keep all his blood inside him this time, at least for the moment.

Prince didn’t waste time in retaliating, lunging at Mary with his crowbar as she retracted her saws. She didn’t look as tough as Larry. He thought he might be able to take her down the old-fashioned way, but he was quickly disillusioned as his weapon bounced off of her casing harmlessly, barely even chipping her paint.

Mary responded in kind, and her blow sent him off the edge of the platform, but he managed to grab onto the rim, narrowly avoiding a fiery death. Winded, he wheezed and gasp for air as he gingerly dragged himself back to safety… well, relative safety. His ribs were aching like hell.

Hadrian started towards the automaton, but Bradley held an arm out to stop him. “Don’t be reckless. Your arm is injured. Stay out of this and keep your sister safe,” the Detective told him, nodding at Stephanie. The girl held onto her brother’s leg tightly.

Twado rushed at Mary instead, gnashing his teeth, evidently furious at her for striking Prince. She must not have wanted her gilded crowbar to touch the mangy thing, because her lip curled in disgust as she delivered a swift kick to his side. A few of the kids winced as they heard a crack. The dog yelped as he slid across the platform and lay still. Bradley hurried over to check on him.

The dog had diverted Mary’s attention. Maybe Monica had the chance to turn her wind-up key. She tried to edge around the automaton while she was occupied with Twado and reached up to grab it, but she’d barely touched her fingertip to the key before Mary turned abruptly and snatched Monica by the wrist in a crushing grip. She flung the girl at Prince as if she were as light as a ragdoll, and Prince had only just climbed back onto the platform when Monica collided with him, sending both of them off the edge again.

Prince caught the rim of the stage again. Monica could only grab hold of the cuff of Prince’s jeans. He tried to pull himself up, but it was impossible this time with the added weight.

Bradley stood up from where Twado was—the dog seemed fine now—and ran towards them as they dangled from the rim, but Mary sauntered into his path.

Mary opened her mouth, probably to expound another snide remark, but she was cut off before she got so much as a word out. Bradley wasted no time in striking out with his umbrella. Prince thought the guy was about to get knocked out cold, but he must have been even stronger than he looked, because Mary staggered marginally as she blocked the hit with her crowbar.

“That’s another charge of resisting arrest, Miss Gearwise,” said Bradley through gritted teeth. She just laughed wryly.

While Bradley engaged the automaton, Twado bounded to the edge of the platform and grabbed Prince’s sleeve with his teeth, slowly and steadily towing him and Monica up.

Bradley tried to bring his umbrella down onto Mary’s head, but she caught it in her hand. The Detective tried to yank it out of her grasp. She held on.

He recognized too late that he had no way to parry her crowbar now. Mary swung for Bradley’s skull. He reacted quick and tried to evade the blow, but it still clipped the side of his head, knocking his hat askew. He stumbled backwards and clutched his temple, dazed.

Mary grinned viciously and raised her weapon to finish him off, but the look was wiped off her face as someone wrenched her wind-up key. She hissed in displeasure and froze up for a moment as her gears seized, but her disorientation didn’t last long.

The automaton spun around with her smirk replaced with a look of acute loathing. She lashed out and raked Prince across the face with her sharp fingernails before he could respond, leaving several long, bloody gashes behind. A guttural snarl escaped from Mary’s lips as she did, as if it was gravely insulting that the boy would even try to lay his filthy fingers on her key.

She didn’t have time to assault Prince any further, though. Bradley had already come to his senses. He adjusted his hat. Mary glanced over her shoulder as she heard the Detective’s footsteps on the steel stage. She saw movement from the corner of her mechanical eye. Monica and Twado were flanking her from both sides. Even the injured Hadrian had grown tired of being sidelined and was now advancing towards Mary as well.

The automaton whirled around and feinted at Bradley, just to keep him away. She must have realized that at least one of them would get their hands on her wind-up key if she tried to fight them all at once. The mechanisms in Mary’s legs clicked as they engaged. She leapt onto one of the tall stone pillars surrounding the platform, perching on it gracefully.

The group stared up at her. Prince spread his arms in a challenge. “Get the fuck back down here, you bitch!” he roared, his face still bleeding. Mary said nothing. She simply smirked and licked a few drops of blood off her manicured nails.

Monica pulled some gauze out of her first aid kit. Prince irritably tried to shrug her off—“I’m fine”—but she managed to press it onto his face and stem the flow of blood.

Bradley pointed at Mary with his umbrella. “Mary Gearwise, I have reason to believe that you were involved in the disappearance of Larry Clockturn. I demand you reveal his whereabouts at once!”

Mary threw her head back and cackled. “You want to know what happened to Larry? Fine. I’ll show you.” She looked over at the control room and nodded at Markus. He pulled a lever on one of the panels.

There was a harsh grinding sound as the wall to their left slowly parted. They hadn’t noticed it when they came in here, but it was actually an enormous sliding gate.

Everyone backed away as it opened. It might have been some sort of depot, though it was hard to tell though the darkness. The light from a pair of LED eyes pierced through the shadows.

Big ones.

Raucous metallic scraping filled the air as the goliath activated and hauled itself from the ground, exposed gears and levers ticking loudly. Its rugged plating caught the orange glow of the lava beneath.

“What the Hell is that?” cried Prince as the clockwork behemoth took a step forward, making the entire cavern quake.

“It’s the new and improved Larry Clockturn, of course,” Mary declared. Markus emerged from the control room and tossed her violin to her. She started to play again. At the sound of her music, the aperture of the machine’s eye dilated and blazed brightly. Its gaze zeroed in on Prince.

Bradley understood what was happening first. “Prince! Get out of the way!” he hollered.

Crimson light flooded the room as Larry discharged his laser. Prince dived out of the way just in time, but he could still feel the scorching heat against his back as the beam passed him by.

It melted through the steel flooring like butter. The scaffolds holding it up groaned as they started to bend. Prince scrambled to his feet and stared up at Larry as his laser fizzled out. The automaton’s optical receptors contracted to the size of pinpricks and darted around frantically. He seemed almost afraid, but the look vanished almost as soon as it had shown up.

Prince didn’t have time to think about what that meant. The two halves of the stage were dipping away from each other.

The group was separated. Twado leapt across the gap before it became too wide and grabbed the back of Stephanie’s shirt in his mouth, who was slipping down the incline, and lugged her over to Prince and Hadrian. The eldest brother pulled Stephanie into his arms as their half of the platform swayed dangerously above the lava.

Bradley and Monica were trapped on the other side. They looked across at them helplessly. The columns holding them up had thankfully stopped buckling, but there was nowhere to run.

Mary grinned in morbid anticipation as Larry prepared to bisect the platform a second time. His eye dilated again. However, the LED flickered as his laser failed to charge up all the way. Bradley retreated as the beam struck the ground in front of him, but it wasn’t hot enough to melt through the metal.

Mary’s smile faded slightly. “My apologies… I thought I had already disabled his free will. He appears to be resisting my commands. How cute,” she crooned as she drew her crowbar over the strings of her instrument once more.

Larry’s components creaked and juddered as he tried to move, but his gears had locked up. His eye flashed on and off, refusing to even begin charging this time.

Now Mary was scowling. She glared into the control room. Markus shrugged and shook his head at her. She turned towards Larry again just in time to see a masked mafioso clamber onto his shoulder. Mary’s eyes widened in outrage as he thrust his crowbar through a gap in the giant automaton’s casing and triggered his emergency shutdown mechanism.

Chapter VII – AWOL

“Helios.”

Helios frowned. He looked around, but there was no one else in the hallway with him and his troupe. Just the mobsters staring at them through the windows.

“Helios!” the voice hissed again. Oh. It was coming from behind him. Helios slowed his pace and glanced back discreetly, lagging behind the rest of the group. Isaiah was peeking out of the vent they’d come in here from. He beckoned the hacker over.

Helios peered around again. The mobsters seemed to be fixated on the others. He slipped away and reentered the vent before anyone noticed.

“Isaiah? I thought you were done with us,” Helios whispered.

“I changed my mind. We have to move,” Isaiah replied. Helios trailed him cautiously.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“Mary called almost everyone in the base to the primary control room. Her lab is pretty much unguarded, so I decided to snoop around a little bit. I found Larry. Deactivated. Chassis ripped wide open,” Isaiah recounted, knitting his brow as he recalled the scene. “I found the blueprints for his new body.”

“New body? What are you saying?”

“I’m getting to that part! Mary cut his heart out. She made him a new body that she could control. The thing is giant. She’s using his heart as the energy source, and the heart is him, so his original body isn’t gonna wake up without it. She’s going to use the new one on your pals. They have no chance.”

“And we’re just letting them walk into the trap?”

“I need them to stall her, and she was going to lock the base down and have her lackeys kill them anyway if they didn’t show up. I have a plan. Larry’s new body has computerized parts, not just clockwork ones. It helps her control him, but it also means he can be hacked. I’m taking you to the lab. There’s a console there that she used to test him out. It’s got the blueprints in it and everything. I think you can use it to access his network, but you have to deactivate the lava pipeline system first… we don’t want your buddies getting their legs burnt to a crisp before they even see the big guy. I need you to get him to stay still long enough for me to reach him and trip his e-stop. Got it?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that.”

“Good.” Isaiah stopped in front of the spot where a ventilation panel used to be, but he must have broken it open already while he’d been sneaking around. He climbed out and showed Helios the console. “This is the place. Try to do this quietly. There are still a couple guards outside the door,” he whispered to Helios. The mobster thrust a two-way radio into his hands. “Use that to tell me when Larry is immobilized.”

Helios nodded, but Isaiah was already reentering the vent, leaving him on his own. The hacker cracked his knuckles and got to work.

Chapter VIII – System Reboot

Prince watched as Larry shut down and toppled backwards. It reminded the boy of when he’d beaten the automaton in the sewers, but the ensuing impact was much, much louder this time when he hit the ground.

Mary threw her violin at Markus. “Deal with that traitor!” she thundered at him. The Warden reentered the control room and sent some of the operators away. They ran through the door, heading for Larry’s depot. The masked mobster was standing on Larry’s chest now, trying to pry one of the plates open. It had to be Isaiah.

“What are you doing, man? Mind getting us off of this platform?” Prince called out.

Isaiah glanced up at him and held up a finger. Wait.

Prince turned around as a mechanical hum filled the cave. He’d expected Mary to jump down and confront the group, but she was still glowering down at them from the stone pillar. The noise had to be coming from her.

The temperature in the formerly stifling cavern was dropping fast. Prince looked up as a raindrop hit his face. Were those clouds?

“She’s got a weather machine built into her!” Bradley realized as lightning struck the ground right in front of him. An indoor tempest was brewing.

Isaiah got Larry’s chassis open and heaved the metal plate away until the gap was large enough for him to fit inside. His gaze scanned the internal hardware until he spotted the automaton’s clockwork heart. It was strangely amusing how such a comparatively small gadget had been powering a giant robot. He lowered himself through the gears and circuitry until it was within reach and gingerly disconnected the tubes and cables holding it in place. The ticking of the mechanism’s gears slowed down as he removed it. An iridescent mystery liquid sloshed around inside the heart’s windowed ventricles as Isaiah climbed back out of the chassis.

The lava sizzled as rain pattered against it. Prince could feel the electricity in the air before lightning hit the spot where he’d been standing moments before. “Dude! What’s the situation?” he yelled at Isaiah.

Isaiah was too absorbed in his task to respond. He’d already dragged Larry’s real body into the depot before he’d gone to fetch Helios, but he didn’t have a lot of time. He was screwed if the other mafiosos made it here before he had Larry operational. Isaiah sprinted to the corner where he’d left the automaton with the heart in his hands and stooped down to set it back in Larry’s chest cavity. It clicked into place.

The mobster stuck his hand under his suit and felt around for the brazing torch and rod he’d brought with him. He fumbled with the hose for a second before he inserted it into the fuel cylinders on the ground and lit the torch, carefully soldering Larry’s tubes and pipes back onto his heart.

A gale was beginning to pick up. Bradley rolled out of the way as a fork of lightning targeted him again. The wind buffeted him, but perhaps that was a good thing.

The Detective opened his umbrella. The motor inside it began to rumble. He held it up and let a gust carry him towards Mary. She took a swipe at him with her crowbar as he neared, but he veered out of the way and landed behind her. He grabbed her key and twisted it counterclockwise a second time before Mary could do anything about it.

Mary winced as she turned and swung her crowbar wide, striking Bradley in the side. He grunted in discomfort and tumbled from the pillar as the vent cover above Mary popped off and smacked against her head. Pete jumped through and landed on her, casting her down from the pillar as well before he reentered the ventilation shaft and vanished again.

Bradley drifted to the floor with his umbrella and gently touched his feet to the ground next to Monica. Mary hit the ground on the other end of the platform with a crash. She groaned in discomfort as she heaved herself to her feet, but her grousing quickly became a snarl as she stalked towards the Detective.

Pete soon emerged from a vent in the depot. He hastily scrawled something across his whiteboard as he rushed to Isaiah: HURRY THEY ARE ALMOST HERE

Larry’s golden eyes blinked on as Isaiah made the last connection. He sat up immediately and wrapped his huge hand around the mobster’s throat. Isaiah dropped his brazing torch to pry the automaton’s fingers away.

“Get your hands off of me, you asshole! I’m trying to help you!” Isaiah snapped.

Larry’s eyes widened slightly, as if he was surprised to hear Isaiah’s voice coming from behind that mask. The automaton glanced down at his chassis, still wide open. He reluctantly released Isaiah and lay down again. “Get on with it, then,” he spat, still glaring.

Isaiah picked up the sheet of metal that Mary had cleaved away from Larry’s casing and placed it over his chest. He picked up the torch again and slowly ran it along the seams. The automaton tensed up at the searing heat, but he held still.

Isaiah had barely finished when Larry shoved the mobster away and got to his feet. He’d secured the plate just in time, too, because the mafiosos that Markus had sent came charging through the depot doors as Larry buttoned up his shirt and picked up his crowbar.

The mafiosos skidded to a standstill when they saw the reactivated Larry standing before them, tall and terrible. He swung his crowbar into the closest one’s abdomen with quite a bit more strength than necessary, burying the curved end in his innards. There was a nauseating squelch and a strangled yelp from the mobster. A section of his viscera came out with Larry’s crowbar as the automaton pulled it free. The others turned tail and ran back the way they’d came as their comrade collapsed into a convulsing heap, too afraid to even try to fight him.

Isaiah made a disgusted noise. “Ugh. That was overkill,” he mumbled as he kicked the whimpering mafioso into the lava. Larry paid him no mind. He turned to the platform. Mary wasn’t the only one who could leap high. He cleared the gap easily and landed right behind her.

The platform shook as his shoes met the steel platform. The scaffolds finally buckled, sending his end of the stage plunging. He was prepared for that. Mary wasn’t. She lost her balance as the platform sank slowly into the molten rock.

Larry grabbed his tormentor with both hands and hurled her into the lava.

Chapter IX – Exit Path

The mafiosos could only watch as Mary disappeared into the molten rock. Markus stared in disbelief until there was a stir in the control room. The mobsters began quarrelling… then they drew weapons on each other. A brawl broke out.

They were fighting amongst themselves. Prince realized as a splatter of blood hit the windowpane that Larry’s old goons must have wanted him back in charge.

Bradley unfurled his umbrella again before the gale storm died down completely. He took Monica’s hand. They both glided into the depot.

The Detective grabbed hold of the metal plate that Isaiah had removed from the behemoth earlier. “Help me move this thing,” he called out to the others.

They lugged the plate towards the edge of the pit and pushed it outwards until it met Prince’s half of the platform. It wobbled precariously, but they held it down as Prince crossed the improvised bridge with Stephanie in his arms. Hadrian and Twado followed from behind. Larry jumped back into the depot as well, landing disconcertingly close to the group. The kids shrank away as Bradley stepped in front of them protectively and pointed at the automaton. Larry raised an artificial eyebrow.

“Larry Clockturn, you are under arrest for-”

Pete bonked the Detective on the head with his whiteboard.

“Ow. What? He’s wanted for hundreds of felonies.”

The elevator is still disabled. We need his help finding our way out, Pete wrote.

“Yeah, I know a different exit,” Larry muttered, but he nonetheless looked mildly annoyed when the group started following him.

They trailed behind the crime boss—well, ex-crime boss—hesitantly. “We still need to get Helios,” Isaiah mentioned. Before they reached the door, however, they heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Larry turned back towards the platform.

Mary was clawing her way back up, her pearlescent façade burnt away by the lava, revealing her brassy gold casing. Patches of paint still clung to her, scorched black. She glanced back at Larry warily as she climbed high enough to jump back onto the pillar, then onto the mezzanine. The mobsters had already fled the control room, but she ran inside and disappeared from sight. Fury flared in Larry’s golden eyes as he barreled through the depot doors to pursue her.

Everyone ran out the doorway after him. They were back in the corridor with the disabled elevator, but Larry ran in a different direction.

“Where are you going?” Prince yelled. The automaton didn’t reply.

“There’s an old mineshaft leading to the surface in this direction,” Isaiah answered instead. “It’s always been sealed, but Mary must’ve opened it to escape. There’s no other way.”

They came upon the control room where Isaiah had left Helios, but Larry didn’t wait up as they pushed the doors open to find him.

“Helios, we have to…”

Isaiah trailed off. The room was empty.

“Helios?” the mobster called out. There was no reply. He tried contacting him with his radio, but the hacker didn’t respond to that either.

“We have to move before we lose Larry. Maybe Helios escaped already. Come on,” Bradley said as he ran back outside.

They caught up with Larry as he arrived at the gate to the mine. The blast doors were already open. Mary was on the other side of the decaying tunnel, hovering over Helios, watching him as he knelt in front of the keypad next to the elevator and desperately tried to crack the activation code. She seized the hacker in a chokehold and turned towards the group as she heard Larry’s heavy footsteps approaching.

“Come any closer and he dies!” Mary screeched at them. Larry didn’t seem too worried about that, but Bradley grabbed his arm to stop him from advancing.

“Let him go, Miss Gearwise. We just want to leave this place,” Bradley tried to reason.

Mary laughed, her eyes wide and manic. “Leave? You’re the ones who intruded upon my base in the first place. Slaughtered dozens of my agents. Do you know how much time I spent working on Larry? You brats have ruined everything,” she hissed as she tightened her grip around Helios’s throat. He scrabbled uselessly as her arm, eyes bulging as Mary crushed his windpipe.

Prince gritted his teeth. Mary’s words sent his thoughts racing. The gang of mobsters they’d encountered in the upper levels, even though there was no surveillance there. The door that had malfunctioned and trapped them. The lightning storm outside that had driven them here in the first place, even though the weather forecast had predicted clear skies. Mary’s weather machine…

“No. You lured us in here,” Prince murmured.

Mary narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” she snapped.

“That’s why you knew we were here when the cameras were offline. You caused that storm outside. You took that tree down with your lightning. You had that barricade set up on the trail, so we’d come here for shelter,” Prince spoke louder. “You made the door short circuit with your lightning instead of shutting it remotely so we wouldn’t get suspicious… and rigged those pipes to blow and cut us off in the upper levels, so we’d walk right into those mobsters. You knew we were here the whole time. You set us up!” he finished, jabbing an accusing finger at Mary.

Mary’s lips slowly curved into a smirk as Prince spoke. “Clever boy.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“I needed someone to test my creation on, and you are the ones who deactivated Larry. I couldn’t leave you alive,” Mary stated. Helios wheezed for breath as she loosened her grip ever so slightly.

Bradley shook his head. “Rubbish. I know for a fact you never cared for Larry. It was the Headmaster who ordered their deaths, wasn’t it?”

Mary’s eyelid twitched at the mention of her superior. She ignored the Detective. “Larry, tell me the elevator’s code and I’ll let Helios go,” she said as she nodded at the dilapidated cage elevator and tightened her stranglehold on the young man.

Larry sneered and tried to press forward. Bradley held him back. The automaton’s gears clanked in frustration as he lifted his crowbar to beat the Detective away, but Isaiah elbowed his way to the forefront of the group before a fight could break out. “How about you think about someone other than your fucking self for once?” the mobster whispered harshly as he shook Larry’s shoulder. The automaton griped inaudibly and hardly budged as Isaiah jostled him, but he got the point.

“0625,” he begrudgingly told Mary.

Helios gasped for air as Mary finally removed one arm from his neck and punched the code into the keypad. The rusty elevator doors squealed as they parted. He tried to break away from her grasp, but he yelped as she grabbed the collar of his jacket and yanked him into the elevator after her. “Oh, no, you’re coming with me,” Mary muttered venomously.

“Hey! You said you’d let him go!” Prince yelled angrily from the other side of the tunnel.

Mary just flashed a grin at him and waved at him as the doors shut. The elevator creaked and rumbled up the mineshaft.

She was gone.

Epilogue

There was nothing to do except wait in morose silence for the elevator to return underground. Prince kept starting at the entrance to the mine, worried that some of Mary’s loyalists might show up, but none did.

The mood relaxed a little bit as Twado stood on his hindquarters and pawed Larry’s legs, whining for attention. He’d been too preoccupied to pay attention earlier, but now the automaton reached down and ruffled the fur on the dog’s head. “Glad to see you too, Twado.”

“He knows you?” Prince asked, surprised.

“He was my guard dog when I ran this place. But he looks like Mary had him thrown outside,” he muttered, shaking his head at Twado’s grubby coat.

The elevator doors squeaked open as the carriage arrived. Prince picked up Helios’s sunglasses from the floor. One of the lenses was cracked. He slipped them in his pocket as the elevator closed and started to carry everyone to the surface. Maybe he’d get to return them eventually if the hacker was still alive.

Isaiah went to sit on an old crate, but Larry pushed him aside. “Is that coal? Finally,” said the automaton as he ripped the lid off and shoved a handful of the stuff into his jaws. The kids watched with profound bewilderment.

“What? You didn’t think I was actually spring powered, did you?” he chuckled. The wind-up key on his back rotated ever so slightly. “This is just a kill switch. I have a steam engine.”

I thought your heart was your energy supply? wrote Pete.

There was a whoosh as the fuel caught aflame in Larry’s firebox. “It’s for emergencies. When I run out of real fuel.”

“It seemed like it was working fine before,” Prince remarked.

“You people ask too many damn questions.”

“No kidding,” Isaiah muttered.

Bradley answered instead. “The heart works too well. It will grind his gears to dust if he relies on it forever.” Larry scowled at him, but the Detective didn’t seem phased. “What are you going to do now?”

Larry was caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d retake control of the base. Why didn’t you?” Bradley added.

The automaton laughed bitterly. “Give me a break. Do you have any idea what they’ve been doing to me down here? They can fuck themselves.”

“You’re just now realizing that? You were just fine with their shit before you were the one getting tortured,” Isaiah scoffed, but his temper dissolved into a sulk as soon as Larry shot him a look.

“OK, time for you guys to tell us what your problem is. You said you joined the mafia during the last purge,” Prince cut in, pointing a finger at Isaiah, “but you keep acting like you’ve been here a lot longer than that. What’s the deal?”

Neither Larry nor Isaiah answered, but Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them a few times. “Isaiah is your son?” he surmised.

Isaiah grimaced as the Detective said it. Larry punched the wall next to Bradley’s head, rocking the entire carriage and leaving a dent in the metal. Stephanie clung to Prince. Twado barked and scurried around as the lonely light bulb flickered and swayed on its wire above them. Bradley was looking pissed, but he didn’t retaliate—this was neither the time nor place for a fight, and Isaiah surely felt the same, because he walked between them and stared Larry down until he backed off.

“Guess that was a yes,” said Hadrian. Monica thumped him on the side of the head.

The mood was somehow even more sullen now. Larry had withdrawn to the corner of the elevator. He looked lost in his thoughts, but they couldn’t stay silent forever.

“What do we do?” Prince asked.

“I would call in a raid on this base right now, but we’d have to find some cell signal for that,” Bradley said.

“It’s not a good time,” Larry argued. “The next purge is in eight days.”

Hadrian groaned. “The next purge? You guys do that every year?”

“Shut it. I’m not finished. We need to get somewhere safe. You’re all in even more danger than last time if the Headmaster put a hit on you.”

That name again. “Who the hell is the Headmaster?” Prince questioned.

“He’s the one pulling the strings in all this. It was him who turned Larry and Mary into these,” Bradley responded, motioning to the automaton. “And those two aren’t the only ones who have been subjected to the procedure. I don’t suppose you were privy to his ultimate plans, were you?” he asked Larry.

Larry scowled at the question, but there was a hint of melancholy on his metallic features. “No, I wasn’t. But that’s not important right now. I know where a safehouse is,” he said as the elevator finally reached the surface. Everyone stepped out as the sun peeked over the horizon. The storm had died out into a light sprinkling of rain.

A couple of miscreants crouched in the dense trees and vegetation, concealed from view. One of them observed the new arrivals through his binoculars as they exited the carriage.

“Well, what do ya know?” said one of them.

“What? Luke, what do you see?”

“Mr. Clockturn made it out… but he looks to be defecting. What a shame, what a shame,” replied Luke, though he didn’t sound very saddened with that.

Brooke laughed. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Are we gonna take him down or what?”

“Don’t be rash, Brooke. He’s not alone. The meddlers are with him, and there’s gonna be a better opportunity soon. The next purge is coming right up.” the boy said as he stood up. Brooke snatched his binoculars and took a look at the group for herself.

“Come on. Those shrimps have nothing! We can take them,” she protested.

Luke shook his head and started walking away. “No. Last thing we need is to blow our first major assignment.”

Brooke grumbled in discontent, but she acquiesced and followed her brother deeper into the woods.

“Fine. Let them think they’re safe… for now.”

#roblox break in #break in roblox #roblox #break in 2 #scary larry #scary mary #tw implied SA

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