#i wanna be able to sit up straight nd not get back pain!!!
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of picnics and persuasion [miya atsumu x reader]
pairing: miya atsumu x fem reader
genre: smut (18+)
warning(s): explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, size kink, public sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, swearing, you kinda squirt but it’s nothin too crazy lol
word count: 2.5k
overview: hindsight’s 20/20, but you should’ve known atsumu wanted you to wear a sundress to your picnic for a reason other than “’cause it looks good on ya.”
In the secluded area of the park where you’ve created a small silver of paradise under a cluster of trees, you watch the shards of vibrant sunlight shift between the leaves casting a kaleidoscope of shadows over your body. The sounds of the late afternoon breeze whistling past, distant conversations, and the scurrying of nearby animals mingle with the soft music playing from your boyfriend’s phone where it lies on the blanket, amongst an array of quickly diminishing food. Absentmindedly, your fingers card through Atsumu’s golden strands of hair, making him tighten the grip he has around your waist and nuzzle his face against your stomach.
“That tickles!” you giggle, giving his head as gentle a push as you can muster when he refuses to budge. He lets out a small sigh of contentment and gives one of your thighs a squeeze before retreating from his position and sitting up so he can help himself to another handful of gummy bears located in a nearby bag.
His arms soon extend out towards you as he beckons, “C’mere, babe.” Placing your hands in his, you allow him to guide you closer to him so you can settle yourself in his lap. A small smile appears across his lips as his amber colored eyes take in every part of you—from the stray strands of (h/c) hair that have fallen in front of your ears to the supple skin on your thighs peering out from beneath the soft fabric of your sundress. “Did I already tell ya how fuckin’ gorgeous you are, (f/n)?”
Heat rushes to your face, then floods your stomach when he leans down to press a tender kiss against your lips followed by another on your neck. “’Tsumu…” you hum nearly inaudibly, “what’s gotten into you, hmm? It’s not every day that you give me compliments without tacking some smart comment onto them.”
“Oh, be quiet,” he complains, grabbing another gummy bear and tapping it against your lip. Obediently, you open your mouth so he can drop it onto your tongue. “Can’t a man just be all in love with his girlfriend without gettin’ dragged?” A small snicker escapes your mouth as you chew the sweet treat and observe the way his hand moves over to yours so he can place your palms together.
He marvels at how his fingers extend beyond yours, and how small they feel laced between his when he slides them together and rests them atop his leg. His other hand takes to traveling the path from your knee to your waist a few times, as if the action soothes him. The intimate nature of his touches in combination with the sensation of his slightly calloused palm against your skin and the pecks he’s littering across your collarbones make your heart flutter in your chest.
When you feel his teeth nibble at your neck, you breathe, “Baby, stop. You’re gonna get me all worked up,” and shift uncomfortably in his lap.
His grip tightens ever so slightly to hold you in place. “Is that so?” he questions coyly, pulling away from your neck so he can shoot you that signature smirk of his. “What if I told ya that’s what I wanted, huh?” Suddenly, you’re acutely aware of his fingertips fiddling with the hem of your dress.
Though your resolve is slowly crumbling at his touch—as it had an annoying habit of doing—you argue, “Can’t you at least wait ‘til we get home?”
“Who says we hafta wait?”
“Oh, I don’t know, the law?”
He scoffs at your retort and comments, “C’mon, honey, we both know that if I don’t fuck ya right here, yer just gonna end up riding me in the front seat of the car. Waitin’ ‘til we get home ain’t even an option at this point.” You quickly avert your gaze in a futile attempt to hide the effects of the heat rising to your face as well as the pout that forms on your lips at being so irritatingly transparent. A small breath of satisfaction at knowing he’s seen through you once again rushes out of his nose as he trails his fingers along the inside of your thigh. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna even notice my hand takin’ a little detour, do you?”
His words light a fire in your stomach that burns hotter underneath the pads of his fingertips as they move beneath the skirt of your dress to inch closer to your painfully throbbing core. You curse the shuddering breath that escapes your lips when his nail grazes the small bow adorning the top of your underwear. “Atsumu,” you sigh.
“Yer wearin’ those lacy panties I bought for ya, ain’tcha?” he muses, admiring the small crinkle of your eyebrows he knows from experience appears moments before you quietly plead for more. He brings his face closer to your ear, feeling his growing erection strain against his pants at your unsteady breathing, and whispers, “I wish I could see how pretty they look all soaked ‘cause of me.” A soft whimper echoes from your throat when he slides his fingers across the wet material between your legs.
“What if someone sees?” you whine, tightening your grip on his shoulders, causing the material of his t-shirt to bunch up beneath your fingertips.
In response, he presses a reassuring kiss against your lips and murmurs, “Sees what?” His feigned cluelessness would be infuriating to you if his digits weren’t slowly pushing your underwear aside so they could venture along your exposed slit. “We’re just two lovers in the park havin’ an intimate conversation, is all.”
The devious grin on his face widens when a teasing touch against your clit changes your tune. “Please,” you utter, any filter or reservations you had before going straight to hell. Now that he’s spreading that fire between your legs with his well-placed pokes and prods, there’s no way you’re going to tell him to stop.
“There she is,” he purrs, his lips finding your neck once more to shower it with tender kisses before pulling away once more so he can watch you. As his fingers move from your clit to your entrance, he finds that you’re too tight to take in more than one of them. “It’s okay, baby girl. Let me into that cute, little pussy of yours ‘nd I’ll make ya feel so good. I promise.” His words have you clenching even harder against his finger, nearly pushing it out of you entirely, but the feeling of his thumb circling your bundle of nerves as his other hand massages your hipbone helps alleviate the issue.
Soon, he’s able to slide two fingers in with relative ease and use them to knead the spongy area deep inside of you. “Fuck…” you hiss under your breath and squeeze your eyes shut. His skilled digits are soon pumping in and out of you slowly, and his thumb dragging across your pearl with each thrust is edging you closer to your orgasm in no time. “More… please! I want more.”
The desperation in your tone makes his dick throb painfully, which he voices with a low groan into your neck. “Think ya can take me, sweetheart?” he asks, though he already knows what your answer will be.
“Mm!” you confirm enthusiastically with a nod, opening your eyes to meet his curious gaze, “I wanna feel you inside me, ‘Tsumu.”
“In a public place where anyone could see us? Damn, yer horny as hell, ain’tcha?”
You furrow your eyebrows with indignation and grumble, “You started it.”
“I did,” he admits, bringing his face closer to your ear so he can nip at the shell of it, “And I intend ta finish it. Same goes for you as well.” After planting an affectionate kiss against your lips before you can even respond, his free hand’s darting beneath the cover your dress’s skirt provides to unbutton his pants and unzip his fly. “So good to me, baby,” he whispers as he drags his fingers coated in your essence along your slit once more, sending a small jolt of pleasure through your body and causing your hips to buck against him impatiently.
A glance downwards reveals a distinct lump beneath the flowing cotton material that makes you swallow thickly. Though your pussy is practically dripping with anticipation, you know his size is going to stretch your walls painfully. Quietly, you request, “Please be gentle.”
“’Course,” is his reassuring response as he uses his grip on your hips to align your entrance with his cock. Once you’re shifted into the appropriate position, he uses light pressure to bring you down onto him at a slow pace.
However, the sounds of nearby voices startle you, and you pause, refusing to budge. Both yours and Atsumu’s gazes dart about your surroundings until you both spot another couple wandering along the path nearby. Though there’s ample foliage shrouding you from their view, you still feel nervous at the thought of being caught; but you must admit the adrenaline rush also goes straight to your core. Unbothered by the possibility of being spotted—and probably turned on by it, instead--Atsumu pulls you down onto him enough to push the pulsing head of his cock into your pussy.
You’re almost entirely sure the couple can hear the squeal you release, but they don’t stop walking or glance in your direction at all. When you shoot your boyfriend a less than pleased look, his only defense is, “Don’t worry, baby; I’ll make sure nobody sees us,” but he adds, “Though there are people out there who enjoy watchin’, ya know. Can’t do anythin’ about them.”
You respond with a light smack against his arm, but he soon ends your conversation by inching himself deeper inside of you. The way you clench around him at the slightly painful sensation reminds him of just how small your sweet, little core is compared to his large dick, and he loves it. Since your face is contorted in discomfort, he tilts his chin up to capture your lips with his.
“Jus’ relax, sweetheart,” he soothes between kisses as he takes to running one of his hands up and down your back. His words and tender touches eventually melt your pain away, and you allow him to slowly plunge into your warm depths until his tip bumps your cervix. “Fuck, (f/n); your pussy feels so goddamn good.” Heat pools in your abdomen at his praise, and another low hum rumbles in his throat when your walls flutter affectionately around him.
Gently, you move your hips against his at a pace that feels most comfortable for you, and that he matches his long but deep strokes. His arms encircle you, bringing your chest closer to his face so he can tease your nipples, which he can see poking against the thin fabric of your dress since you’re not wearing a bra. It’s a good choice, he thinks, since he can use his teeth to stimulate them without having to expose you. It’s almost as if you came on this picnic date prepared to fuck him in the park—although, you wearing the loose sundress was his idea. He had to pride himself for that, since he was now reaping the rewards of his suggestion.
As much as you want to speed up and let him pound into you mercilessly, you’re both able to show a bit of restraint given the nature of the situation. But that certainly doesn’t mean the experience is any less enjoyable by a long shot. He adds more pleasure to every meeting of your hips by including his fingers in the mix for you to grind against. Given how unsettled you’d felt at the idea initially, you’re surprised how quickly you find yourself getting lost in the moment and approaching your orgasm. Each precisely placed thrust sends shockwaves of ecstasy through your body that force you to stifle your moans with your hand, and Atsumu’s eagerness to indulge your needy pussy encourages him to bounce you up and down on his lap with a bit more speed and force.
“Just like that, baby,” you tell him breathlessly, leaning into the hand he has resting against your stomach so he can feel his dick prodding it from inside you with every snap of his hips. “So good…”
His gaze travels from your breasts back up to your face so he can admire your expressions as you get closer to coming undone. “I know yer close. Cum all over my cock for me, princess.” The way his fingers stimulate your sensitive spot has you orgasming only a few seconds after he’s uttered his gentle command. With a mewl muffled by your hand, you feel ecstasy overtake your entire body as you gush all over him and squeeze him tightly enough to make him press his face into your chest once more to stifle a loud groan.
“That’s it,” he praises shakily, tightening his grip on your hips and holding you down so he can feel the effects of your climax on every inch of his dick. “So fucking good, baby.” With a final, particularly forceful thrust, he releases inside of you and rides out his own high as you drape your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.
When you’re both finished, you take a moment to regain your breath and your composure before daring to open your eyes and see if you’d raised any suspicions. Thankfully, you don’t find anyone watching you with horror—or rapt attention, much to your relief, since either would be mortifying. Atsumu’s lips peppering your chest with gentle kisses draws your gaze to him as he lifts his head to regard you with somewhat hazy eyes. You chuckle at his slightly dazed expression, though you’re sure you look more than fucked out as well.
“That was so hot,” he comments with a sigh of contentment before pressing a loving kiss against your lips, “Who woulda guessed that you ‘nd I would end up fuckin’ during a picnic of all things today?”
You reply, “Not me, that’s for sure.” After allowing your lips a few more moments to catch up on all the kisses you’d been avoiding for the purpose of being as discreet as possible, Atsumu lifts you off of him so he can make himself decent before pushing your skirt away. “Let’s go, ‘Tsumu. The last thing we need is to get busted for having sex in public.”
“We’re gonna be fine!” he grumbles and dismisses your worries with a wave of the hand, “Could ya hand me one of the bags of food, though?” You raise an eyebrow at him, since you’re hardly in the mood to stick around after what you’ve just done. With a roll of the eyes, he leans in closer to you and informs you, “There’s a wet spot on my pants that needs covering up, thanks ta you, so, hand it over ‘nd we can get outta here.”
“Are you complaining?”
“’Course not! In fact, I can’t wait ‘til we get home so you can do it all over again.”
treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist
taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)
general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin
atsumu: @pretty-setters, @misora-msby, @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @atsunakaashi, @heyhinata, @why-aminot-dead
#ahkaahshi gets wild#ahkaahshi's mini kinktober 2020#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#fran writes hq!!#haikyuu smut#tw exhibitionism#tw public sex#tw size kink#atsumu smut
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To Many More - Sam Wilson x reader
a/n - hey lovely people!! haven’t been able to write in a bit but here’s this short piece for the loml’s birthday aka sam wilson. he’s such husband material abgshdbpdhfdf thank me for that gif later;) enjoy<3
Summary: your superbird boyfriend comes home just in time to spent the rest of his birthday with you. no tfatws spoilers!!
Word Count: ~750
Warnings: alludes to smut, that’s it:)
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You tried to tell Sam that he shouldn't go, because then he'd miss his birthday.
"The mission ends two whole days before that. C'mon, I'll be home before you notice it," he smirked, and that was it.
Now, you spent almost his entire birthday alone. You did anticipate this, but still. It sucked. To make up for it, you were now making Sam's favorite pasta, thinking about how you should've put your foot down about him not going and he's probably out there fighting an-
The knock at your door startled you from your thoughts. Immediately tensing up, you grabbed your phone and went to look through the peephole. Sam lectured you enough about safety for you to know even if it's him, he'll stand to wait a bit before you open the door. It used to annoy you, still does sometimes, but you understood why it mattered.
Looking out, you saw it was indeed him. Opening the door with a grin, you had to stop yourself from jumping into his arms once you took in his disheveled state.
"Big bad was really bad this time, huh?" you teased.
Sam's arm had a bandage wrapped around it, his cheek had a small cut on it, and you could see from the way he was standing that his right leg wasn't in the best state either.
"I don't look that bad," he smirked.
You both got inside before he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his toned torso while you did your best not to cling onto him like you so desperately wanted to, knowing it would probably be painful.
He took a deep breath, laying his head on top of yours, and you could feel the tension start to seep out of your body and his alike.
"You okay?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied softly, and even without looking you knew he was smiling that special smile he reserved just for you. You stepped back a bit, and god, did you miss that smile.
"Good. Did you get 'em?"
"You know I did baby!" he finger-gunned the air in front of you, making you giggle.
You took hold of his arm and led him into the kitchen, making him sit down while you finish preparing the food. You were quiet, knowing he needed his time after a mission.
After a few minutes, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you from behind, making you smile and hum in approval. You let him hold onto you as much as he needed.
Honestly, you knew that whatever question you’d ask him, he'd answer, unless that answer will put you at risk. But you also knew that he didn't really want you to ask, didn't want you to be a part of that life, that risk. So you didn't. you never had something that urgent to ask anyway, preferring the comfortable silence.
"That smells really good," he commented after a couple of moments.
"Thank you. It's your birthday dinner, so I hope it'll taste as good. Don't think I forgot," you added before he could respond.
"I didn't think that," he chuckled.
"Good. Because you got off easy today, but tomorrow it's the Sam Wilson Birthday Extravaganza," you gestured dramatically and he laughed, "even if it's a day late, as I remember telling someone would happen," you finished with a grin.
"Where are you gonna make me go, huh?" he mused out loud.
"You'll find out," you said mock-ominously, "but tonight you should get some rest," you added softly.
"Well that's a shame," he buried his head in the crook of your neck, and you could feel his breathing tickling you, "because I was counting on getting my present tonight," he pressed a few kisses to your neck, making you sigh contently.
"Really? Good thing I'm in charge of planning your birthday then, since I don't think you should be getting any presents with that bruised arm of yours."
"On the contrary. Because I hurt my arm I think I deserve some consolation," he pouted against your neck and you laughed.
"I'll think about it," you turned around to face him and winked. "but for now let's get you something to eat, birthday boy."
"I'd r-"
"Don't even," you managed to keep your face straight before bursting into laughter, Sam along with you.
Yeah, Sam not being here for most of his birthday sucked, but any day he was yours was the luckiest day of your life.
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okay so longer rant now - i’m so sorry my updates are this inconsistent:( i wish i could give y’all better but right now this is the best i can manage. thanks if you’re still sticking with me / have joined and followed me, i see it and i appreciate you so so much!! school’s being a bitch and i’m sort of a perfectionist about my grades which doesn’t really mix well or leaves me with that much time to write, but for now it is what it is:( alright thanks so much for reading, ily, and stay hydated!!<3
Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12 @starlightcrystalline @procrastinatingsapphictrash
if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3
#sam wilson x reader#sam wilson x female reader#sam wilson x y/n#sam wilson x you#falcon x reader#falcon x y/n#falcon x you#sam wilson fluff
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Trick and Treat
A little thing I did for Halloween
Joker/52 x F!Reader - Demon
Sometimes things didn’t always work out the way they were planned.
Not expecting rain and getting soaked for instance. Y/N hadn’t had the best day and knowing what was waiting for her in her small apartment was wasn’t exactly cheering her up - in fact, it was more of a chore than she wanted. It had been a complete accident… summoning a demon.
Well, actually, no.
Summoning a demon hadn’t been an accident. Summoning the demon she actually got, was.
Y/N pushed open her front door with a heavy sigh and started to toe off her shoes, “Oh, is it raining, Little Mistress?” Her eyes raised to look at the long haired demon sitting in the middle of her living room, right where her coffee table should have been; now it sat awkwardly in the kitchen.
“Don’t call me that.” Technically she was his master now but he called her mistress, she didn’t even want him there and if she knew how to get rid of him, she would have done it by now, “And yes, it’s raining, what gave it away?” Her voice was dripping with the same amount of sarcasm as the rain water was from her clothing, she was completely soaked through to her skin, “I’m taking a bath.”
His grin widened and a purple eye glowed playfully at her, “Let me out of this circle and I’ll come wash your back” She rolled her eyes at him and went into the little bathroom to get out of her clothes and ran her taps.
Joker, as he insisted on his name being, was a pain in the ass. Though she didn’t suppose it was his fault she found him attractive and difficult to resist. A week prior she had summoned him into her living room using a pentagram circle and a dodgy looking spell book she had found hidden under a loose floorboard when she was renovating the room - it had been a drunken joke. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to summon something and now that she had she didn’t know what to do.
He had threatened to eat her.
As long as she didn’t break the circle around him, he was trapped. He also insisted that he had being kidding when he said he’d eat her but he was a demon… with cute little horns and a tail. Joker was tall and he had to curl up to sleep in the ring she had made, he had only one eye, the other obscured by an eyepatch, the eye he did have was the prettiest shad of purple she had ever seen and the black ring around his pupil made it feel like he could hypnotise her. Y/N slid into the bath, the warm water chasing away the chill clinging to her skin and just as she was about to reach for her ‘bathtime’ book Y/N heard a deep, satiny hum drift into the tiled room.
He liked to hum and make up little songs; at first it scared her but now if made her feel relaxed and almost boneless. It almost felt like a caress all over her body and she shivered despite the warm water.
Damn him.
The woman wondered if that really was his form or if he had altered it to look more appealing to her. His clothes changed from day to day too; the first night he had worn a white shirt, waist coat and dress trousers. The next day he had worn something that looked like a black jumpsuit and sandals - what had he been wearing today? She hadn’t really noticed, knowing that if she looked at him she’d be tempted to go over and then she’d be tempted to listen to him and then try to touch him…
If she reached past the circle he would be able to grab her and if the chalk line was damaged he would be able to get out. It wasn’t particularly fair to the demon, keeping him trapped and trying to ignore him too.
Joker often told her about little adventures he’d had with his demon friend, Benimaru and about a young demon they were helping called Shinra. There were times she was tempted to ask more about him but that could be dangerous.
After getting into a pair of pyjamas, Y/N walked back out into the main apartment and paused. It was warm and the kettle was boiling away in the kitchen - her eyes widened and her head turned sharply to the circle, relieved that he was still there but confused about the heating. “D-did you… escape?”
The demon snorted and then laughed, he was in the process of tying his hair up into a ponytail, “If I had escaped I wouldn’t have just turned on the radiator and the kettle.”
“Then how?”
“The longer I’m here, the easier it is for me to use a little demonic magic to mess with stuff in your house,” He stood up straight and stretched his arms over his head, his black tail swishing a little behind him, “Like your house keys this morning~”
Her keys? Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed and then she seemed to realise, “You!” She snapped, “You hid my keys and made me late today! You’re the reason I was late and forgot my umbrella and got me all wet!”
“Oh?” His grin was back nd he pressed his hands against the invisible wall the circle made around him, “Did I get my Little Mistress all wet?”
“Shut up! You know I didn’t mean… ugh!” Heat filled her cheeks and she could feel herself getting flustered, “Why did you have to come here?!”
He tilted his head a little and his grin slowly got smaller until it was small and almost sad, “You don’t have to hate me so much… You summoned me, remember? You were horny and drunk and that meant you got someone fun like me… if you had been drunk and pissed off you would have gotten something much
nastier.” She acted like it was his fault and he had to admit, it kind of hurt his feelings.
“I didn’t mean to.” Y/N mumbled, rubbing her arm a little as she felt bad for being so rude to him all the time, “You said you were going to eat me, I can’t just let you free - what if you’re lying and try to take over the world?”
“Human’s are so gullible.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, his clothes had returned to the maroon waistcoat over a white shirt, and he looked at her for a long moment before clearing his throat, “Look, I wanna go home and you want me gone. All you have to do is light one of those magic candles and say, ‘Demon be gone’.”
“Really?” If it were that simple why hadn’t he said so before? Not entirely trusting him, Y/N bit her bottom lip and glanced at the candles she had seen with the book, “Why didn’t you say so?” She watched him shrug and mumble that he thought annoying her was fun. Grabbing up the candle and lighting it, the woman placed it in front of the circle and took a deep breath, “Demon, be g-”
Joker stopped her suddenly, “Great Demon.”
“What?”
“Great Demon, be gone.” He saw her glare at him and smiled, “You gotta address me properly, Little Mistress.”
He was making fun of her, he had to be. If this didn’t work she was going to call the church and let them do whatever they wanted to him. “Fine… Great Demon, Be go-”
“Great Demon Lord, Master of shadows and King of Hell, be gone.”
He was definitely making fun of her now - Y/N blew out the candle and glared at him angrily, “I’m going to shove my foot up your ass!” Seeing him burst into laughter made her even angrier and she couldn’t hold in her yell, “I wish you’d just go back to where you came from! I don’t want you here!”
The demon doubled over all of a sudden and gasped as if he were in pain before dropping to his knees. Y/N watched him dumbly and then she stumbled forward - stopping short of breaking the circle, “H-hey… are you okay? What’s wrong? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… Joker?” He groaned like he was in agony and Y/N reached for him on instinct, “Joker, I didn’t mean to hu- Ah!!”
Joker snatched her wrist and yanked her to him, he dragged her onto his lap and held her tightly as she struggled, “Fooled you, Little Mistress!” He grinned down at her as she stared at him in horror, “Now, It’s time to eat you.”
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spn quotes: season one
i’m collecting a bunch of quotes from the show! favorite lines, good points of characterization, etc. all organized by episode and character, and with timestamps!
w/ncest shippers get lost
season two.
1. PILOT
Dean—
[Sam: So we kill everything we can find.] Save a lot of people doing it, too. (08:51)
I can’t do this alone. [Sam: Yes, you can.] Yeah. Well, I don’t want to. (09:30)
[Officer: So. Fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?] My boobs. (28:50)
Sam—
When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45. [Dean: What was he supposed to do?] I was 9 years old. He was supposed to say, “Don’t be afraid of the dark.” (08:30)
You think Mom would’ve wanted this for us? (08:58)
We were raised like warriors. (09:06)
[Dean: Are you just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?] No, not normal. Safe. [And that’s why you ran away.] I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. (09:09)
[Dean: You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?] Maybe. Why not? [Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you’ve done?] No, and she’s not ever going to know. [Well, that’s healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you’re gonna have to face up to who you really are.] And who is that? [One of us.] No. I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life. (22:45)
If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what Mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom’s gone, and she isn’t coming back. (23:17)
2. W*ND*G* ( x )
Dean—
Her brother’s missing, Sam. She’s not just gonna sit this out. (14:55)
[Hailey: And you’re hiking out in biker boots and jeans?] Well, sweetheart, I don’t do shorts. (15:54)
I’m supposed to be the belligerent one, remember? (25:13)
The way I see it, Dad’s given us a job to do, and I intend to do it. (26:31)
All that anger, you can’t keep it burning over the long haul. It’s gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. [Sam: How do you do it? How does Dad do it?] Well, for one, them. I mean, I figure our family’s so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. It makes things a little bit more bearable. And I’ll tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can. (27:05)
Sam—
[Dean: No, you’re not fine. You’re like a powder keg, man. It’s not like you.] (25:06)
3. DEAD IN THE WATER
Dean—
You don’t think I want to find Dad as much as you do? [Sam: Yeah, I know you do, it’s just—] I’m the one that’s been with him every single day for the past two years while you’ve been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we’re gonna kill everything bad between here and there, okay? (04:09)
Well, maybe you don’t think anyone will listen to you, or... or believe you. I want you to know that I will. (11:58)
You’re scared. It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that everyday. And I do my best to be brave. (20:14)
What if we missed something? What if more people get hurt? [Sam: But why would you think that?] Because Lucas was really scared. [That’s what this is about?] I just don’t want to leave town until I know the kid’s okay. (29:48)
Sam—
People don’t just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them. (03:51)
4. PHANTOM TRAVELER
Dean—
It’s your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp. (05:18)
Sam—
[Dean: It’s your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp.] (05:18)
[Jerry: Well, he was real proud of you, I could tell. You know, he talked about you all the time.] He did? (07:09)
Hey, hey, it’s just a little turbulence. [Sam, this place is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I’m friggin’ 4.] You need to calm down. [Well, I’m sorry, I can’t!] Yes, you can. [Dude. Stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap. It’s not helping.] Listen, if you’re panicked, you’re wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down right now. (30:26)
5. BLOODY MARY
Dean—
Do I look like Paris Hilton? (18:08)
Her boyfriend killing himself, that’s not really Charlie’s fault. (29:54)
Now listen to me. It wasn’t your fault. It you want to blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or, hell, why don’t you take a swing at me? I’m the one that dragged you away from her. [Sam: I don’t blame you.] Well, you shouldn’t blame yourself, because there’s nothing you could’ve done. (31:24)
Sam—
[Dean: Hell, why don’t you take a swing at me? I’m the one that dragged you away from her.] I don’t blame you. (31:37)
Charlie. Your boyfriend’s death, you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn’t have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen. (40:37)
6. SKIN
Dean—
He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home with Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends, you could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me. [Sam: What are you talking about?] You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. (24:21)
Sam—
[Rebecca: It must be lonely.] Oh, no. No, it’s not so bad. Anyway, what can I do? It’s my family. (39:02)
Misc—
Shifter: Evolution is about mutation, right? So maybe this thing was born human, but was different. Hideous and hated. Until he learned to become someone else. (27:14)
7. HOOK MAN
Dean—
I told you, you don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius. (14:59)
[Sam: Hey, be quiet.] Me be quiet? You be quiet! (19:48)
Sam—
[Dean: You’ve been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!] This wasn’t really my experience. [Let me guess—library, studying, straight A’s. What a geek.] (21:30)
8. BUGS
Dean—
Growing up in a place like this would freak me out. [Sam: Why?] The manicured lawns, how-was-your-day-honey? I’d blow my brains out. [There’s nothing wrong with normal.] I’d take our family over normal any day. (08:21)
[Sam: You’ll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad.] What kind of advice is that? Kid should stick with his family. (20:26)
Hey, so with that kid back there, how could you tell him to just ditch his family like that? [Sam: Just, uh, I know what the kid’s going through.] How about telling him to respect his old man? How’s that for advice? (23:20)
Matt, under no circumstances are you to tell the truth. He’ll just think you’re nuts. Tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side and you gotta go to the hospital, okay? [Matt: Yeah, okay.] Make him listen? What are you thinking? (32:44)
Sam—
Remind you of somebody? Dad? [Dean: Dad never treated us like that.] Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. ...You don’t remember. [Dean: Well, maybe he had to raise his voice but sometimes you were out of line.] Right. Right, like when I said I’d rather play soccer than learn bowhunting. (11:46)
[Matt: Larry doesn’t listen to me.] Why not? [Mostly? He’s too disappointed in his freak son.] I hear ya. [Dean: You do?] Matt, how old are you? [Matt: Sixteen.] Well, don’t sweat it, ‘cause in two years something great’s gonna happen. [What?] College. You’ll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad. (20:04)
[Dean: Hey, so with that kid back there, how could you tell him to just ditch his family like that?] Just, uh, I know what the kid’s going through. [How about telling him to respect his old man? How’s that for advice?] Dean, come on. This isn’t about his old man. You think I didn’t respect Dad, that’s what this is about. [Just forget it, alright? Sorry I brought it up.] I respected him. But no matter what I did, it was never good enough. [So what are you saying, that Dad was disappointed in you?] Was? Is! Always has been. [Why would you think that?] Because I didn’t wanna bowhunt or hustle pool, because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which to our whacked-out family, made me the freak. (23:20)
Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full-ride? Proud. Most dads don’t toss their kids out of the house. [Dean: I remember that fight. In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth.] You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad, I don’t know if he’s even gonna wanna see me. (24:05)
9. HOME
Dean—
And then you tell me that I’ve got to go back home, especially when... [Sam: When what?] When I swore to myself that I would never go back there. (07:56)
I remember the fire, the heat. Then I carried you out the front door. [Sam: You did?] Yeah, well, you never knew that? [No.] (12:38)
I don’t know what to do. So, whatever you’re doing. if you could get here... please. I need your help, Dad. (14:45)
Sam—
[Dean: I remember the fire, the heat. Then I carried you out the front door.] You did? [Yeah, well, you never knew that?] No. (12:38)
Misc—
Missouri: All those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds, and sometimes wounds get infected. (27:15)
10. ASYLUM
Dean—
[Sam: This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job.] Yeah, well, maybe we’ll meet up with him. Maybe he’s there. [Maybe he’s not. I mean, he could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing.] Who cares? If he wants us there, it’s good enough for me. [This doesn’t strike you as weird? The texting, the coordinates?] Sam. Dad’s telling us to go somewhere. We’re going. (07:05)
[Sam: We deserve some answers. I mean, this is our family we’re talking about.] I understand that, Sam, but he’s given us an order. [So what, we gotta always follow Dad’s order?] Of course we do. (12:17)
[Sam: I mean, why are we even here? ‘Cause you’re following Dad’s orders like a good little soldier? ‘Cause you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?] (36:52)
Sam—
[Dean: We’ve got to burn Ellicott’s bones, and all this will be over, and you’ll be back to normal.] I am normal. I’m just telling you the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? ‘Cause you’re following Dad’s orders like a good little soldier? ‘Cause you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval? [This isn’t you talking.] That’s the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I’m not pathetic like you. [So what are you gonna do? You gonna kill me?] You know, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. (36:43)
11. SCARECROW
Dean—
[Sam: I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.] Yeah, it’s called being a good son. You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. You don’t care what anyone thinks. (08:08)
[Sam: You know, if you’re hinting you need my help, just ask.] I’m not hinting anything. Actually, uh... I want you to know... I mean, don’t think... [Yeah. I’m sorry, too.] Sam.... You were right. You got to do your own thing. You got to live your own life. [You serious?] You’ve always known what you want, and you go after it. You stand up to Dad. I mean, you always have. Hell, I wish I.... Anyway. I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy. [I don’t even know what to say.] Say you’ll take care of yourself. (25:04)
Sam—
[Dean: Dad doesn’t want our help.] I don’t care. [He’s given us an order.] I don’t care. We don’t always have to do what he says. [Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives. It’s important.] Alright, I understand. Believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge. [Alright, look, I know how you feel.] Do you? How old were you when Mom died, 4? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel? (07:25)
[Meg: I had to get away from my family.] Why? [I love my parents. And they wanted what’s best for me. They just didn’t care if I wanted it. I was supposed to be smart, but not smart enough to scare away a husband. Well, it’s just.... Because my family said so, I’m supposed to sit there and do what I was told. So I just went on my own way instead. ...I’m sorry. The things you say to people you hardly know.] No, no, it’s okay. I know how you feel. Remember that brother I mentioned before that I was road-tripping with? It’s kind of the same deal. [And that’s why you’re not riding with him anymore? ...Here’s to us. The food might be bad, and the beds might be hard, but at least we’re living our own lives and nobody else’s.] (21:11)
[Med: You’re running back to your brother? The guy you ran away from? Why, because he won’t pick up his phone? Sam, come with me to California.] I can’t. I’m sorry. [Why not?] He’s my family. (31:13)
12. FAITH
Dean—
Looks like you’re gonna leave town without me. [Sam: What are you talking about? I’m not gonna leave you here.] You better take care of that car. I swear I’ll haunt your ass. [I don’t think that’s funny.] Oh, come on, it’s a little funny. (04:44)
[Sam: Maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean.] You know what I got faith in? Reality—knowing what’s really going on. [How can you be a skeptic, with the things we see every day?] Exactly, we see them. We know they’re real. [But if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there too?] ‘Cause I’ve seen what evil does to good people. (08:10)
[Roy: I looked into your heart and you just...stood out from all the rest.] What did you see in my heart? [A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn’t finished.] (15:27)
You never should’ve brought me here. [Sam: Dean, I was just trying to save your life.] Sam, some guy is dead now because of me. (19:30)
The guy is playing God, deciding who lives and dies. That’s a monster in my book. (22:42)
[Layla: I wish you luck. I really do.] Same to you. You deserve it a lot more than me. (30:38)
[Sam: To cross a line like that, that preacher’s wife—black magic, murder. Evil.] Desperate. Her husband was dying. She would’ve done anything to save him. (31:35)
God save us from half the people who think they’re doing God’s work. (32:04)
[Sam: What’s happening to her is horrible. But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself, Dean—you can’t play God.] (32:58)
Must be rough, to believe in something so much and have it disappoint you like that. (40:57)
You know, I’m not much of the praying type, but I’m gonna pray for you. [Layla: Well. There’s a miracle right there.] (42:00)
Sam—
[Dean: I’m gonna die. And you can’t stop it.] Watch me. (05:23)
[Dean: You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?] I’m not gonna let you die, period. (07:04)
How can you be a skeptic, with the things we see everyday? [Dean: Exactly, we see them. We know they’re real.] If you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there too? (08:18)
[The guy is playing God, deciding who lives and dies. That’s a monster in my book.] No, we’re not gonna kill a human being, Dean. We do that, we’re no better than he is. (22:42)
Misc—
Layla: I guess if you’re gonna have faith, you can’t just have it when the miracles happen. You have to have it when they don’t. (41:19)
13. ROUTE 666
Dean—
[Sam: Look man, everybody’s got to open up to someone sometime.] Yeah, I don’t. It was stupid to get that close. (13:06)
[Cassie: Whenever we get—what’s the word?—close? Anywhere in the neighborhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off or make some joke or find any way to shut the door on me.] (15:19)
Sam—
You told her. You told her the secret. Our big family rule number one—we do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times, and you tell her everything? (04:18)
Oh, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms. [Dean: So I guess I saved you from a boring existence.] Occasionally I miss boring. [So, this killer truck—] I miss conversations that didn’t start with “this killer truck.” (29:31)
Ever make you wonder if it’s worth it? Putting everything on hold, doing what we do? (39:10)
14. NIGHTMARE
Dean—
[Sam: Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people—I’m sorry, man. I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane.] Yeah, but it doesn’t justify murdering your entire family. [Dean—] He’s no different than anything else we’ve hunted. Alright? We gotta end him. [We’re not gonna kill Max.] Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say, “Lock him up, officer. He kills people with the power of his mind.” [Forget it. No way, man.] Sam— [Dean, he’s a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you’ll follow my lead on this one.] Alright, fine. But I’m not letting him hurt anybody else. (25:01)
[Sam: We’re lucky we had Dad.] I never thought I’d hear you say that. [Well, it could have gone a whole ‘nother way after Mom. A little more tequila, a little less demon hunting, then we would have had Max’s childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him.] All things considered. (38:27)
As long as I’m around, nothing bad’s gonna happen to you. (41:27)
Sam—
Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people. [Dean: What’s that?] Both our families are cursed. [Our family’s not cursed. We’ve just... had our dark spots.] Our dark spots are pretty dark. (19:13)
I was connecting to Max. The thing I don’t get it why, man. I guess because we’re so alike? [Dean: What are you talking about? Dude’s nothing like you.] Well, we both have psychic abilities. We’re both— [Both what? Sam, Max is a monster. He’s already killed two people, now he’s gunning for a third.] Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people—I’m sorry, man. I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane. (24:43)
If I just said something else, gotten through to him somehow. [Dean: Don’t do that.] Do what? [Torture yourself. It wouldn’t have mattered what you said. Max was too far gone.] When I think about how he looked at me, man, right before.... I should have done something. [Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we’d have gotten there 20 years earlier.] Well, I’ll tell you one thing. We’re lucky we had Dad. [I never thought I’d hear you say that.] Well, it could have gone a whole ‘nother way after Mom. A little more tequila, a little less demon hunting, then we would have had Max’s childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him. (38:03)
15. THE BENDERS
Dean—
Look... he’s family. And I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you. [Kathleen: I’m sorry, I can’t do that.] Well, tell me something. Your country has its fair share of missing persons. Any of ‘em come back? Sam’s my responsibility, and he’s coming back. I’m bringing him back. (08:56)
When we were young, I pretty much pulled him from a fire. And ever since then, I’ve felt responsible for him. You know, like it’s my job to keep him safe. I’m just afraid if we don’t find him fast.... Please. He’s my family. (15:04)
Demons, I get. People are crazy. (28:08)
If you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you, I swear. I’ll kill you all. I will kill you all! (35:54)
16. SHADOW
Dean—
[Sam: What are you gonna do when it’s all over?] It’s never gonna be over. There’s gonna be others. There’s always gonna be something to hunt. [But there’s got to be something that you want for yourself.] Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam. [Dude. What’s your problem?] Why do you think I drag you everywhere, huh? Why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place? [’Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom.] Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man. You and me and Dad. I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again. [Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before.] They could be. (24:04)
Sam—
What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I’d sleep for a month. Go back to school, just be a person again. (23:42)
Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before. [Dean: They could be.] I don’t want them to be. I’m not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way. (25:02)
Misc—
[Sam: Go to hell.] Meg: Baby, I’m already there. (30:22)
17. HELL HOUSE
Dean—
People believe in Santa Clause. How come I’m not getting hooked up every Christmas? [Sam: ‘Cause you’re a bad person.] (27:01)
Sam—
Man, we’re not kids anymore, Dean. We’re not gonna start that crap up again. [Dean: Start what up?] That prank stuff. It’s stupid, and it always escalates. (04:24)
Kind of makes you wonder—of all the things we hunted, how many existed just ‘cause people believed in them? (37:17)
18. SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES
Dean—
[Sam: What makes you so sure?] Well, because I’m the oldest, which means I’m always right. [No it doesn’t.] It totally does. (03:38)
Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault, okay? [Michael: It’s my job to look after him.] (20:53)
I know how you feel, I’m a big brother, too. But you got to go easy on your mom right now, okay? (21:24)
Dad did not send me here to walk away. [Sam: Send you here? He didn’t send you here, he sent us here.] This isn’t about you, Sam, alright? I’m the one that screwed up. It’s my fault. There’s no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me. (25:35)
Dad never spoke about it again. I didn’t ask. But he, uh... he looked at me different, you know, which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn’t listen, and I almost got you killed. [Sam: You were just a kid.] Don’t—don’t. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it. (29:26)
Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to. It’s okay, I won’t be mad. (33:57)
[Sam: Sometimes I wish that...] What? [I wish I could have that kind of innocence.] If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could, too. (40:05)
Sam—
Dean, I’m sorry. [Dean: For what?] You know. I’ve really given you a lot of crap for always following Dad’s orders, but I know why you do it. (34:39)
Sometimes I wish that... [Dean: What?] I wish I could have that kind of innocence. [If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could, too.] (40:05)
19. PROVENANCE
Dean—
I’m sure that this is about Jessica, right? Now, I don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy. God forbid have fun once in a while. (20:47)
Sam—
I had a girlfriend. And she died. And my mom died, too. I don’t know, it’s like... it’s like I’m cursed or something. Like death just follows me around. Look, I’m not scared of much, but if I let myself have feelings for anybody— [Sarah: You’re scared they get hurt, too.] (30:39)
Misc—
Sarah: I know, losing somebody you love—it’s terrible. You shut yourself off. Believe me, I know. But when you shut out pain, you shut out everything else, too. (31:27)
20. DEAD MAN’S BLOOD
Dean—
He does what he does for a reason. [Sam: What reason?] Our job. There’s no time to argue. There’s no margin for error, alright? It’s just the way the old man runs things. [Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, alright? Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you’re cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show?] If that’s what it takes. (14:51)
Sam—
I’m happy he’s okay, alright? I’m happy that we’re all working together. [Dean: Good.] It’s just the way he treats us like children. [Oh, God.] He barks orders at us, Dean. He expects us to follow him without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal. [He does what he does for a reason.] What reason? [Our job. There’s no time to argue. There’s no margin for error, alright? It’s just the way the old man runs things.] Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, alright? Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you’re cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show? (14:51)
[John: You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam. You walked away!] You’re the one who said “Don’t come back,” Dad. You’re the one who closed that door, not me! You were just pissed off that you couldn’t control me anymore! (19:27)
[John: Sammy, it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn’t accept the fact that you and me, we’re just different.] We’re not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess, we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone. (29:20)
Misc—
John: This is never the life that I wanted for you. [Sam: Then why’d you get so mad when I left?] You got to understand something. After your mother passed, all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you prepared, ready. So somewhere along the line, I stopped being your father. I became your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was that you were gonna be alone, vulnerable. (28:21)
21. SALVATION
Dean—
For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault. [Sam: Yeah, you’re right, it’s not my fault, but it’s my problem!] No, it’s not your problem, it’s our problem! (05:42)
You’re just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it? [Sam: Yeah. Yeah, you’re damn right I am.] Yeah, well, that’s not gonna happen—not as long as I’m around. [What the hell are you talking about, Dean? We’ve been searching for this demon our whole lives. It’s the only thing we’ve ever cared abut.] Sam, I want to waste it, I do, okay? But it’s not worth dying over. [What?] I mean it. If hunting this demon means you getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing. [That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom,] You said yourself once that no matter what we do, they’re gone. And they’re never coming back. [Don’t you say that! Don’t you—not after all this, don’t you say that.] Sam, look. The three of us, that’s all we have. And it’s all I have. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together, man. Without you or Dad.... (37:51)
Sam—
So Mom’s death, Jessica—it’s all because of me? [Dean: We don’t know that, Sam.] Oh really? ‘Cause I’d say we’re pretty damn sure, Dean! [For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault.] Yeah, you’re right, it’s not my fault, but it’s my problem! (05:34)
Misc—
John: I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home. I want Mary alive. I just want this to be over. (21:10)
22. DEVIL’S TRAP
Dean—
You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there. [Sam: You didn’t have a choice, Dean.] I know. That’s not what bothers me. [Then what does?] Killing that guy, killing Meg... I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just... it scares me sometimes. [Azazel!John: It shouldn’t. You did good.] You’re not mad? [For what?] Using a bullet. [Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you, you watch out for this family. You always have.] (29:41)
Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? ‘Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing. [Azazel: Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Mask all that nasty pain, mask the truth.] Oh yeah? What’s that? [You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is, they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam—he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.] (36:52)
Sam—
[Dean: Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge.] (19:24)
Misc—
Azazel: He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood. [Dean: Let him go, or I swear to God—] What? What are you and God gonna do? (35:09)
#finally posting this 😜#tagging the ppl who said they'd be interested!!#lukeskysaunter#ijaazat#let me know if you want to be removed from/added to the tag list for future posts like this :)#spn#supernatural#ej.pdf#dean winchester#sam winchester#spn season 1#spn season one#spn quotes
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I Want You Back (Part 8)
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter was too blind to realize that you were slipping through his fingers
Word Count: 6,002
Warning: Angst, mentions of death and trauma
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Every street you walk on I leave tearstains on the ground~ Following the girl I didn’t even want around~
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was one of the longest and most painful weeks of Peter's life.
Peter had grown up experiencing a lot of heart ache but this, this hurt in an entirely new way and he had no idea what to do with himself. He's lost a lot of loved one's throughout his life, but he's never lost anyone that he's had to see again every. single. day.
He couldn't bring himself to do anything anymore. Eating, showering, he couldn't sleep, let alone patrolling. It had even popped up in the Daily Bugle about Spider-Man's absence this last week, but he just didn't care anymore.
If it wasn't for May, Ned, and MJ, he would've just been rotting away in his bedroom in that maroon hoodie of yours.
Peter regretted asking if you wanted to get back together, why in the world did he think it would've been that easy. He grew up with you and if there was one thing about you it was that you were stubborn when you put your mind to something.
He had ended up stalking both you and Brad on Instagram. He felt himself die a little every time you posted about the other, but what felt even worse was the realization that you had deleted every post Peter was in, that night he spent two hours straight just crying.
But what felt so backwards to him was that now that it was Saturday night and it was the first time all week that he didn't get to see you in person, instead of that making him feel better at all, all he wanted to do was go and see you, even if it did hurt.
He just really missed you.
And when he saw his suit hanging in the closet... he couldn't resist.
He fought every thing in his head that screamed how bad of an idea this was and in the first time in a week, he put on his suit. But instead of going out to fight crime, he went to go see you instead.
Peter glanced at his reflection in the mirror in his bedroom after having just slipped on the suit, mask in hand. He looked like a wreck but he couldn't care less, and with a sigh he tugged on his mask, the eyes suddenly adjusting for him.
"Hello Peter." Karen's voice greeted. "It's been a while, is everything okay?"
"Not really." He responded, heading over to his window and beginning to climb out. "I'll tell you later." He mumbled, making his way on top of the fire escape.
"Okay. There's a robbery currently two blocks away."
"Oh.. Are the police on their way?"
"They are half a block away from the crime."
"Then they can handle it themselves tonight." He said, shooting a web at the building across from him. "We're gonna visit (Y/N)." And with that he swung on the web. Karen fell silent on the swing there, which wasn't too long, you only lived a few buildings away.
Once Peter had reached the building next to yours, he climbed up to the roof. Before the two of you dated and you found out he was Spider-Man in Sophomore year, he would sometimes swing by to check in on you after he went patrolling, something about fighting crime then going to see you safe nd sound always comforted him, and he found that the roof of the building next to yours, as creepy as it sounds, had the perfect view into your window. And viewing you from the roof was much more inconspicuous than hanging out on your fire escape.
"Why are we visiting (Y/N)?" Karen asked, once Peter reached the roof. "I thought you said she broke up with you?"
"She did." He answered sadly. Peter walked to the edge of the roof, your bedroom window coming into view. "I just wanted to see her." He crouched down on the ledge so he was sitting on his haunches.
"Peter?"
"Hm." He hummed.
"Do you miss (Y/N)?"
"..Yeah I do... a lot actually." He mumbled.
The curtains of your bedroom window were pulled open, he couldn't see you but the light was on and he could see the familiar bedroom that he's been in a countless amount of times.
"Have you tried asking her out again?"
Peter let out a short sarcastic laugh. "Yeah but it's not that easy, she's with someone else now... and she hates me."
Just then your bedroom door swung open, making Peter immediately tense as he watched as you walked in, running a hand through your hair and shutting the door behind you. Peter held his breath as he watched you move about your room.
Was this an invasion of your privacy? Yes. Did Peter understand that? Of course. But right now all he wanted to do was see you. He wanted to remember what you looked like when all of your attention wasn't on Brad, he wanted to remember what it was like, not to see you with a scowl every time he was near you.
Right now all he wanted was to bask in the peacefulness as you went about your night.
He watched as you walked over to the bookshelf in your bedroom that only held your comic books and he watched as you picked one out.
You grabbed the comic book and made your way over to your desk, which happened to be right in front of the window.
And it was the first time that week that Peter finally felt relaxed as he just observed the quiet scene. He watched as you flipped the page every few seconds, the way you bit your lip, when you pushed back a strand of hair away from your face. It was all so simple and mundane but it was you. And Peter would kill to be laying on your bed right now and watching you read from there, like he usually did, instead of now having to watch you from the rooftop of a building, but this was all he had of you now.
All he had were the few things you left at his place, the pictures and the videos, one shared class, and this moment. And he had come to face the fact that he had actually lost you now, and so he was prepared to draw this moment out as long as possible.
But unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and once he saw you flip the comic shut and stand up to close your curtains, he knew it was time to go.
So with a heavy heart, he swung back to his place, having to face the fact, yet again, that he broke your heart and now you didn't want anything to do with him.
Nightly visits became a regular.
Every night at 8, Peter would swing by your place and just watch. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help himself as it became a guilty pleasure his. Some nights he'd end up crying the whole time, others he wouldn't say a word. And he knew he should try to move on but he still didn't want to, he was terrified of forgetting you.
He was also able to slowly get back into patrolling, but only for a short while. His spider sense hadn't been working properly and he ended up getting hurt often, even showing up to school with a black eye one day.
Eventually two weeks had passed and Peter hadn't felt any better, the only things that did improve was that he had started to eat again and he wasn't crying as much as he was before. But he still couldn't sleep very well and he was still constantly depressed about the whole break up which had been starting to affect his grades in school.
Currently Peter was in lunch, sitting with Ned. MJ had decided to sit with you and Brad, and right now he couldn't take his eyes off the two of you as he glared daggers into Brad as he watched him play with your hair while you talked to MJ.
"-ter..Peter." Ned said, pulling Peter out of his thoughts.
"W-what?" He asked in surprise.
Ned sighed. "I've been trying to get your attention for like two minutes."
"Oh sorry, what were you saying?" He asked, glancing over at the two of you again.
Ned shook his head. "Doesn't matter... Do you want to switch seats or at least sit on this side, so you don't have to see them?" He asked, referring to you and Brad.
"No, I'm fine..." He trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw Brad moving closer to you, and press a kiss to your temple, making Peter snap the fork in his hand in two. Ned looked at it in surprise as Peter looked down at the now broken utensil. "Oh...oops." He said, dropping the piece that was still in his hand.
"Are you sure you don't wanna switch?" Ned tried again.
"No, seriously, I'm fine." He said shaking his head, looking back down at the lunch tray in front of him.
Ned sighed again. "Y'know I don't mean to sound pushy but- when are you going to get over her? It's been over a month since you two broke up and you're a mess- you never even showed up to see Star Wars with me."
"Right..I'm sorry Ned, it's still in theaters, we can go this weekend...." Which was a promise he did keep, because if he didn't at least make an effort with his friends, he'd just be as bad as before. "I just, I don't think I can move on."
"She's moving on though and you're just gonna hurt yourself more if you don't start to try. She already told you she didn't want to get back together." He said referring to the conversation that you and Peter had in the prop room, Peter had told him and MJ about it the next day at lunch.
Peter pushed his lunch tray away and put his arms on the table, resting his chin on top of them as he looked up at Ned now. He shrugged. "But what if she changes her mind." He mumbled.
"But what if she doesn't?"
Peter fell silent, and instead asked another question. "Do you know when she stopped calling me pretty boy?" That had been one of the questions that were gnawing at the back of his mind, but most of all he wanted to know why he didn't notice.
Ned frowned, "I don't know... just that it was a long time ago." Peter fell silent again, making Ned decide to change the subject. "C'mon let's go to the computer room and play some games." He said. Peter nodded, and the two of them left the cafeteria, with Peter throwing another glance at you.
Peter got through the rest of the day, feeling out of it as usual. He was thankful when the last bell of the day rang and he was finally able to go home. He was at Ned's locker, he rarely stopped by his own anymore due to awkward encounters with you, when his plans for the night suddenly changed.
He saw you and Brad walking down the hallway, hand in hand, as you both headed towards the exit. Usually the two of you never left together, since you took different ways home, and now out of sheer curiosity about what the two of you were up to, he wanted to follow.
"I'll see you tomorrow Ned." He quickly rushed out as he made his way down the hallway, hearing Ned mutter something back in response.
Peter kept a lot of distance between you guys as he followed you outside, and once the three of you made it farther away from the school and it was clear that the two of you were headed towards your apartment, he quickly ran into an alleyway and changed into his suit, leaving his backpack webbed beind a dumpster. And with that, he was quickly swinging towards your apartment.
Again, he knew how wrong this was but all the common sense in the world right couldn't stop him from wanting to know how Brad treated you when it was just the two of you.
Peter only had to wait about 15 minutes before he saw your bedroom door being pushed open, through your window, from where he layed on the edge of the roof. "Wait- Karen, they're here!" Peter whisper-yelled, interrupting the conversation he was having with his A.I. Peter quickly sat up and leaned forward, the eyes on his mask narrowing.
You walked in, Brad following close behind and closing the door once you were both inside. He dropped his backpack off by the door, while you out it by your desk where you usually left your bag. Brad walked over to your bed and fell on top of it in a starfish pose, while you sat down at your desk. The space between the two of you put his pounding heart at ease and helped him swallow back some of his jealousy. It was clear the two of you were speaking to one another but he couldn't make out the words the two of you were saying.
"Karen can you activate reconnaissance- whatever?"
"Activating enhanced reconnaissance mode." She said, and suddenly he could hear both your and Brad's voices loud and clear, and your giggles suddenly floated through his ears.
"I think you have a couple fans." You giggled, looking at Brad from your spot at your desk.
Brad raised an eyebrow at you. "Care to explain what you mean?"
"A couple of freshmen girl's came up to me today and started asking questions about you."
Brad started laughing along with you. "Really? Like what?"
"They asked if you were nice, and I told them yes. Then they asked how smart you were, and I told them very." You smirked at him. "Then they decided to get a little personal and asked if you were a good kisser."
Brad smirked back at your flirty tone. "And what did you tell them?"
"I told the-"
"Karen deactivate reconnaissance mode!" Peter shrieked.
"Deactivating enhanced reconnaissance mode." And suddenly your voices cut out, and Peter let out a sigh of relief, falling back onto the rooftop.
Peter groaned. "That was awful."
"Is that Brad?" Karen asked.
"Wha- oh yeah... That's Brad." He grumbled, sitting back up and daring to look back over the ledge, to see what you were doing. He breathed another sigh of relief when he saw the two of you getting up to grab your backpacks, probably about to start on homework
"She seems very happy with him."
Peter rolled his eyes. "I bet she was happier when she was with me."
"I thought she broke up with you because she wasn't happy."
"Well before the blip." He sighed for the umpteenth time. "God the blip ruined everything... But anyway, I don't trust Brad."
"Why's that?"
"Because- Because it's Brad!" He yelped. "What kind of guy asks out a girl who just got out of a three year relationship. And he also just seems very controlling, he's always dragging her by the hand places and just the way he talks to her sounds like he's trying to manipulate her or something, I don't know. And also he hadn't seen her for five years with the blip, you'd think he'd move on during that. I don't trust him." He sighed. "...I just wish I knew why I pushed her away, if that didn't happen, we'd still be together."
Everything fell quiet as Peter went back to observing the two of you, but it turned out to be pretty boring, which actually ended up being something he was grateful for. He didn't know what he would do if the two of you were all touchy behind closed doors.
About two hours passed before Karen spoke up again. Peter was laying back down on the ledge, just gazing at your face through your window.
"You know Peter, I could psychoanalyze you if you want." She suddenly piped up.
Peter furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Well, you've stated multiple times that you don't quite understand why you pushed (Y/N) away, except for that it had something to do with the blip. So if you want I can psychoanalyze you to see what the cause was."
Peter hummed. "That actually doesn't sound like a bad idea. Okay you can do it." He gave permission.
Karen was silent for a moment, processing whatever it was she needed to process before starting again. "It seems to me that after the blip and having to come to the realization that the world was in shambles and dealing with the stress from everyone expecting you to be the next Iron Man, you overworked yourself as Spider-Man to live up to these expectations and tried to at least attempt to fix the world. And also after the blip, you had to face the fact that the Avengers are practically non-existent now, along with the fact that Tony Stark is dead and instead of dealing with your grief properly you pushed it to the back of your mind and started to unconsciously push (Y/N) away, because you felt that Mr. Stark along with the other Avengers had sacrificed a lot to save the world so you sacrificed one of the only things that made you truly happy as a way to justify not being able to sacrifice as much as the Avengers had."
Peter fell silent, the gravity of what she said, feeling like both a weight had been placed and lifted off his chest at the same time. "Karen?"
"Yes Peter?"
"What's wrong with me?"
"I'm sorry, I don't quite understan-"
He quickly, sat up. "Seriously what's wrong with me, I hurt this amazing girl all because I didn't know how to grieve! How the hell do I not know how to grieve, I feel like that's all I've been doing my entire life!" He shouted. "I will be the first one to admit that I fucked up, and I fucked up bad. And if I could re-do the whole thing, I would've just talked to her or aunt May about how I felt, even if I didn't understand it! And I feel like with everything you just said it's still no excuse for what I did to her, she didn't deserve anything I put her through. And god! What the fuck am I doing right now, I've been spying on my ex girlfriend when she deserves to finally move on and be happy for once, even if it is with Brad." He was panting now. "And also what the fuck was I thinking when I asked her if she'd go out with me again, am I insane, of course she wasn't going to agree to that, not even to mention how selfish and insensitive that was of me to even think about asking her that!... Why am I so fucking stupid." He sighed, shaking his head in defeat. In that moment he turned his head to look at the two of you.... and how Brad was now getting awfully close to you... spinning you around in your chair.....and leaning down to kiss you....
"Whoah! Whoah! Whoah!" Peter yelped, "Karen they're kissing!"
"Isn't that what couples do?"
"Yeah, but that's my girlfriend!"
"You just said she's your ex- girlfriend." She corrected, making Peter groan.
"That's what I meant- I need to stop them! Look they're going to her bed now!" He shrieked as the two of you stumbled backwards to your bed, Brad sitting down as you placed yourself on his lap. "Shit! Karen what do I do!?" He couldn't shoot a web- if you saw one of his webs you'd know that he was there.
He looked down at the roof noticing a piece of rubble that broke off of the ledge and in sheer panic he picked it up and threw it at your window. But unfortunately he miscalculated how hard he threw it and suddenly the sound of shattering glass filled his ears, as well as your and Brad's ears as the two of you snapped your heads towards the window. Peter's eyes widened and he dropped flat on the roof, the risen ledge blocking him from view.
"What the-?" Your voice now rang through the air due to the broken window.
Peter slightly peeked his head out from behind the ledge, seeing how the two of you stared at the broken window in surprise and confusion. "I think we should get your parents." Brad said, looking at the mess, the broken glass scattered all over your desk.
"Yeah- c'mon." You said, the two of you shuffling out of the bedroom to find your parents.
Peter sighed in relief and sat up, looking back over the ledge and your now shattered window. "Oops..." He muttered, and the realization of what he just did sunk. ".... I think I need help, I can't keep doing this." He sighed.
"If you're sorry and still in love with her, why don't you try winning her back?" Karen suddenly asked.
"What?" Peter asked incredulously. "Because that's crazy, and I already told you it's not that easy."
"No one said it was going to be easy."
"Yeah but... she hates me. I screwed everything up." He said sadly.
"Everyone deserves a second chance Peter."
Peter let out a short self-deprecating laugh. "I've already tried apologizing, she doesn't want to hear it.''
"Try again."
"I ca-"
"Then again." She cut him off.
"Kar-"
"And again." She cut him off again. "Until you get it right."
Peter fell silent, soaking in what Karen just told him. "But... what if I annoy her? What if it just makes her hate me more?"
"You'd be fighting for her Peter."
He fell silent again in thought, the hopeless romantic in him feeling a bit of hope at the thought of fighting for the girl he loved. It would be hard, and it wasn't something that would work overnight but if it won you back... then it'd be worth it. It was true he fucked up, and no one knew that better than him right now, but he also knew if he had a second chance he'd do everything right this time. Losing you had been one of the worst experiences he's gone through. He was still deeply in love with you, and if it didn't work...he would respect your decision, and finally move on. But if it did, then everything could go back to the way it was before the blip.
"Alright." Peter jumped to his feet. "I'm gonna fight for her. Do you mind if I bounce some ideas off you?" He asked.
"Not at all."
"Thanks... I need to clear my mind though, so we're gonna go for a swing around the city.... and who knows maybe stop some crimes." He said, now in a slightly better mood, even feeling a little bit of excitement as he started to come up with ideas and plans on how to win you back.
And with that, he shot a web and began swinging, planning on staying out for a few more hours.
--
You ran a hand through your hair, watching as your mom was cleaning up the glass from your desk. You were sat beside Brad on top of your bed.
"So how did it break again?" Your dad asked as he stood behind your mom, trying to get a look of the window frame.
You shrugged. "There's a piece of concrete on the fire escape, I think someone threw it at the window."
Your dad frowned. "That's weird."
"At least neither of us got hurt." Brad said, making your dad purse his lips, not responding.
You placed a hand on his knee and gave him an apologetic smile.
Neither of your parents were fans of Brad. They clearly preferred and trusted Peter more and having this sudden change of you bringing home a different boy. But then again they didn't really know what the last few months with Peter had been like.
Your dad sighed, "I guess I'll call someone and have them replace the window while your in school."
You hummed. "Alright."
You hadn't noticed Brad staring at something in your room, until he tapped you and asked. "What's that?" You looked in the direction he was pointing in and spotted the box labeled 'Peter' in the corner of your room.
"Oh, that's just all of Peter's things." You shrugged. "Took me a while to find everything he's left, I need to give it back sometime." You huffed, it's been over a month since the two of you broke up, but it still weighed heavy on your heart.
"Oh Peter." Your mom suddenly said. "I miss him." She said sadly, and you could see Brad was beginning to feel awakward again.
"Yeah." Your dad agreed. "Good kid."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever." You groaned.
Brad's phone suddenly vibrated and he quickly picked up, finding it as something to distract him from the situation. He let out a quiet groan, "I gotta get home. My mom just texted me."
You pouted, "All right, I'll see you tomorrow." You said, leaning up to kiss his cheek before he got up.
"Bye." He hummed back. "Um have a good night Mrs and Mr (Y/L/N)." He said, earning a grunt from your dad and an absentminded 'bye' from your mom.
Once Brad had left you flopped back on your bed. "Do you guys have to be so curt with him." You groaned.
"We just don't know him very well yet." You mom said. "And we miss Peter, he's such a sweetheart."
You groaned again. "Yeah but now he's my ex so can we please stop talking about him already."
"Fine." Your dad agreed. "We'll try to be nicer to Brad and forget about Peter, then. But I still don't trust him, something just seems off with him, and I know you don't like Peter anymore but he was a good kid. Besides you're the one who can't let go of his things."
You shot up in youd bed, "What!?" You yelled afronted.
He gestured to the box you had been talking about just minutes before. "You found all of his things weeks ago and yet they're still here." He said in amusement, clearly finding your frustration entertaining. There was no malicious intent behind his words, your dad just liked to tease you.
"Fine." You said. "I'll take them back to him now." You said in a challenging voice.
"Alright then, go. Be back for dinner." He grinned.
"Fine, I will." You stood up from your bed and headed over to the box, picking it up. "I'll see you guys in like 45 minutes then." You said before leaving your bedroom and heading for your front door.
"Try and make up while your there!" Your dad shouted out.
"Shut up!" You called back over your shoulder, hearing him laugh shortly after.
You rolled your eyes and slammed the door shut behind you as you started walking down the hallway.
But gradually began to slow down until you came to a full stop as you realized what you were going out to do.
You looked down at the box in your hands and bit your lip.
Giving Peter back his things and going to his place to take back yours really made the break up feel final. Sure, you haven't spoken to him in what felt like forever, but... you still had his things and as long as you had his things, he'd still be somewhat apart of your life.
You were a better actress than what people gave you credit for. Yes, you looked and felt much happier after the break up, but it was a lie if people thought you were moving on smoothly. And the fact that Peter tried to apologize and that he kept staring at you in class and at lunch. It pissed you off how he started to care again, and that was probably why you felt like you had taken two steps back. But when it came right down to it, Peter hurt you but Brad made you happy. You liked Brad, you really did... which is why this was good.
You'd go to Peter's give his stuff back and get your own things and then you'll continue to move on.
And with that thought you were walking down the hallway again, beginning the 15 minute walk to his apartment.
--
By the time Peter had reached his apartment, after deciding to call it a night, he was in a much better mood.
His talk with Karen helped lifted his spirits tremendously and now Peter felt more determined than ever, because now he was forming a plan. And that determination was a much better feeling than the hopelessness he had been feeling after you lashed out at him in the prop room.
Peter was on the side of his building as he climbed up the wall to his window. "I think it could work." Peter said to Karen. "It'll be a lot of trial and error, but-" He pushed his window open and began to climb in. "I think it could..work...." He trailed off, his eyes widening immediately in shock, because the moment he climbed through the window was the moment May had walked into the bedroom with you close behind, box in hand. "(Y-Y/N)?"
May inwardly groaned, she had been expecting Peter to be out longer and to be honest, she was a little nervous to see the two of you interact after the state Peter's been in all week. Especially after Peter's failed attempt to fix things, which he had told her all about.
You were tense, seeing May was.... awkward, but now you went completely rigid as you saw Peter climb in through his window as Spider-Man. "Hi.." You greeted lamely.
In a few seconds Peter finished climbing in through the window and now stood fully in his bedroom. He tugged his mask off, "W-what're you doing here?" And just like that, the better mood he had been in was extinguished.
You held the box in your hands a little higher, "I have a bunch of your things you left at my place, and I wanted to pick up my things too."
Peter felt like he was caving in on himself with your words. "Oh..." He muttered.
May cleared her throat awkwardly, "Okay, I guess you two will sort everything out yourselves..and I need to go and finish dinner." She said before shuffling out of the room, leaving you two by yourselves.
"Um.." You start, "I only have the one box... and I kinda need it to bring my stuff home, so..." You trailed off, ignoring that desperate gaze in his eyes, which seemed to be the only way he could look at you now.
"Oh, s-sure." He stuttered, coming over to pull the box out of your hands, quickly placing it on his bed, before rifling through it, using it as a distraction.
You looked around the room for the first time since the break up. It was much smaller than his room in his old apartment, since he had to move after the blip. You quickly noticed the chair in the corner of his room, stacked with a bunch of your belongings.
"Oh are those my things?" You asked as you wandered over to the chair.
Peter looked back at you, "Oh y-yeah..." He felt a tug on his heart, realizing that you were really taking your stuff back, and it hurt him more than he thought it would've.
"Where's my blanket?" You asked, looking through your stuff.
Peter's eyes suddenly widened as a blush over took his cheeks. He looked down at his bed, seeing the familiar pink fabric tangled with his own blankets. "Um..." He started, noticing you had spotted the blanket on his bed, with obvious signs that he had slept with it. "Uh... It got cold last night...." He said in an attempt to cover up his embarrassment. "Sorry.." He grabbed the blanket and reluctantly handed it to you.
"It's fine." You said, fighting off your own embarrassment. "And uh... my hoodie?" You ask, placing the blanket with the rest of your things.
Peter stiffens, 'Shit' he thinks to himself, because currently, said hoodie was in his backpack (he started taking it with him to school) and said backpack was still webbed behind a trashcan in some random alleyway.
"Oh I- I don't have it." He blushes furiously.
You furrow your eyebrows. "What? What do you mean you don't have it?"
"I... I don't know where it is...Got lost." He says, clumsily making up an excuse.
"Okayyy?" You drag out the word, suspicion laced on your tongue. "Guess I'll have to get a new one then."
Peter sighs in relief for two reasons, 1) you didn't press on the matter of him "losing" it and 2)....He'd get to keep the hoodie.
"If that's everything, I guess I'll head out now." You walked over to Peter and pulled the now empty box in front of him, with you and over to the chair.
Peter bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching as you put your things away. It was awkward, of course it was. But somehow that same question that had reared it's head in lunch was back on the tip of his tongue.
"Okay, I'm gonna go now, so uh bye." You said, box now filled with all your things as you started heading for his bedroom door.
"When did you stop calling me pretty boy?" He suddenly blurted.
You stopped, letting the question sink in before looking back at him. "... When you stopped calling me princess." You answered simply.
Peter frowned and stared at the ground. ".... For what it's worth... I really am sorry."
You sighed. "I know you are.... I just wish you figured things out sooner." You said before continuing to walk out and all Peter could do was watch, his world feeling shaken as he might be watching you leave his bedroom for the last time, and he really couldn't handle that thought.
He sat down on his bed, already missing your blanket and he knew he'd have to go get your hoodie before bed, the only way he could sleep now was if he was enveloped in your scent.
He couldn't stand not doing anything anymore, his plan suddenly coming to mind again.
That determination from earlier slowly started making it's way back in.
He blinked away the tears. He was tired of crying. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and listen to Karen.
Peter was going to fight for you, and he was going to do it right. And hopefully by the end of it you would be his girlfriend again but if it came down to it he would settle with just being friends...
Because Peter didn't want to live a life that you were no longer apart of.
But right now, he needed to talk. Peter didn't want to start anything new with you just to screw up again, and the only way he was going to be able to work through his grief and emotions after the blip was to talk about it.
So later that night, he asked May if he could talk to her, and of course she said yes.
He was determined to get better for you, and prove that he wasn't the Peter that pushed you away anymore.
So....
Peter talked...
And May listened.
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N [IMPORTANT]: I will be on vacation these next two weeks so I will be missing the next three updates!!! (Sucky timing, I know, we only had two more parts to go)
Part 9 will be up on Saturday the 17th at 12AM EST!!!
The taglist is closed!!!
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Good man
summary; you’re an angel (literally an angel) and the world needs you. what for? to babysit mclennon. spoiler: you cannot resist john.
word count; 3 248
disclaimers; i’m SO proud of this but give me feedback lol you just can’t imagine how much it helps and motivates to keep writing
warnings; cannot think of one.
********
Too many of yours had been killed. Many others were still held in custody, tortured for the sole purpose of unleashing a war your community had been avoiding.
The smartest decision would’ve been to end the nonsense and face the enemy head-on, but again, you were angels. Dialogue always came first.
You learned the lesson.
This last year you’d been training and developing physical skills that initially don’t belong to your committee. What you didn’t know was the irrefutable decision the Parliament imposed in one of their meetings that they later would communicate to the nation: put into practice, only if necessary, the fighting tactics that you acquired. Not here, but on Earth. Long story short, become guardians. A large number of people understand that as angels that’s what you are. They’re not wrong, in a way.
On a final note, the Parliament concluded that its best pupils would descend to protect humans from the vehemence of the Evil.
Each angel has two people assigned.
Yours are Paul McCartney and John Lennon.
//
18th of June 1967, 15:18 pm
“Today marks six months since we met, and on top of that, it’s my birthday. Have you bought me anything?” Paul inquired from the sofa, straightening his neck to get a better view of your face.
It was difficult with you staring out the window, scanning every inch of the street and skyline, never turning to show any interest in what he was saying.
Dropping his head backwards, he added quietly, “And nothing happened”
“Is that disappointment in your tone?” you asked impassively, still not turning.
“Disappointment is not the word”
“What’s the word then?”
Your eyes travelled to a different point. No longer on the clouds that ventured the signs of a storm but on your partner and one of the other three funky insects.
Matt was near the metal gate, keeping an eye on the vicinities and probably rolling his eyes at the fans’ screeches coming from behind the entry, crying for any sort of interaction with their idols.
Not far from there John was sitting on the hood of his car.
Something must have told him he was being watched because he put down the hand with the cigarette and looked up to the same window you were at almost instantly.
An uneasy feeling that you couldn’t quite describe expanded around your heart after his inquisitive stare settled on you.
Flustered, you looked coyly to the left and right, because maybe Paul shifted to your side and you didn’t notice.
That got a small laugh from John.
Paul wasn’t in the room anymore but on the bathroom taking a pee, you could hear him. Regaining your usual erect composure, your brows pinched in a frown.
John got off the hood and put out the cigarette on the sole of his shoe before heading towards the building, looking in your direction once more with hands in his pockets and a sinful smirk tickling his lips.
“No,” you told Paul, observing John until he couldn’t be seen no more.
He shot you a confused glance as he finished pulling up the zipper.
“Babe, be more specific”
“I didn’t buy you anything” you concretized, facing him, “but I’m here to save your life in case you need to be saved. And if the moment comes I will, I’m a good warrior”
Paul blushed. He flapped his hand at you.
“It was a joke”
“I hope you were joking too about ‘nothing’ happening. You should be grateful you weren’t in any danger just yet”
You swore you could boil an egg in his face.
//
18th June 1967, 15:39 pm
“We’ll be back before dinner” Matt informed, putting on a jacket.
“Do the wings break through the clothes when you… invoke them?” Ringo asked.
George and John didn’t make any witty remarks, wondering the same secretly.
You and Matt exchanged looks. He shrugged and you thought it wasn’t worth your time answering.
“We do not invoke them. They appear when we need them”
Ringo kept asking questions but you didn’t focus on them, after all he was Matt’s responsibility. He was taking them –George and Ringo– to pay a visit to their wives. Matt missed driving so they didn’t mind him taking the wheel.
In Paul’s case it was Linda and her guardian who dropped by every now and then.
Due to the first impression of them, you thought Paul and John would be more demanding, however, they didn’t bother you and mostly stuck to doing their own thing.
Paul was taking a nap in the room next door; John’s whereabouts were unknown. You had to find him for his safety.
Gliding down the corridor you bumped into him.
You folded your arms across the chest.
“Where were you?”
“A fan dodged security and was waiting for me in the lobby. We talked for a bit and snapped a picture”
“For the thousandth time,” you groaned, annoyance streaming through your body like lava, “do not speak to anyone if I’m not around! Why do you keep disobeying my instructions?”
“She looked regular” he justified.
You looked at him as you might a cockroach.
“Demons disguise themselves accurately to fool jerks like you” you spat out.
Pulling a theatrical painful face, he brought a hand down to hold on to his dick and testicles, simulating that your words kicked him just there.
“Lennon, do not make it harder than it needs to be. I didn’t choose to have to follow you around like a puppy”
“Alright, can you take a moment to try and understand how overwhelming the situation is for us as well?” he argued, putting on hold his reckless demeanour.
Rubbing your eyes you sighed, “Yes, I can, but—”
“Forgive me”
“I forgive you, but don’t do it again”
A tender grin formed on his face, content that you didn’t put up much of a fight.
“Before I got interrupted I was actually on my way to get you. I wanna show you something”
You rolled your eyes. He’s so random.
Back in the room, he went straight to the piano. After tuning it his eyes wandered to the empty space he had next to him on the bench, waiting for you to take it.
Your expression switched from curious to stupefied.
Following his command you sat down.
Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and from lips to his fingers. He played so carefully and delicately in the beginning, introducing the prologue of his piece, that you lost yourself somewhere in the middle of it. Recalling the day you entered Heaven you shivered.
Music filled the air, hijacking every part of your mind.
The melody began to change, more macabre and haunting. It reminded you of everything beginning to fall apart, when the enemy showed no mercy and without guilt slayed the innocent.
You weren’t aware of how you were digging your fingernails in his leg, the shrieks of the victims ringing in your ear.
John stopped playing, placed his hand on top of yours and clasped it firmly, looking concerned.
You shook your head and instead walked away, needing space.
John squared his shoulders as he took a deep breath and sauntered up to you. Brows together, you shrank back.
“I didn’t want to upset you,” he said, respecting the distance.
You remained quiet, head buzzing.
He squinted at you and tilted his head.
“Talking about it might help you”
“Have you taken it on yourself to be my personal psychologist?”
He held your gaze. It was the pain talking, not you. He knew and he was going to be patient.
“It’s not your fault this is happening. Any of this”
“Stop”
“You need to hear it. You have this vast weight on your shoulders—”
“I could’ve done something!” you hollered, saturated with the remorse you’d been accumulating. You knew you weren’t responsible for the cataclysm. He didn’t… he didn’t understand. “Those monsters killed them in front of me! Marta, Norman, Charlie! I can still feel how my body jarred after witnessing every stab and poisoned bite. Blood was gushing out of their mouths and I did nothing!”
The image of you petifried watching them die and not being able to help repulsed you.
How could you have been so cruel?
John held his breath. That was what was torturing you.
“You aren’t responsible for their deaths”
“Aren’t I?” you fumed, the void in the middle of your heart widening. “You know nothing”
The bitterness in your voice made his nostrils flare.
Through his bones echoed the determination to cure your scars. However, he understood it wasn’t his job to heal you.
“And I’ll never get to apologize”
You could sense John’s question without him actually asking.
“Demons get to exist thanks to the souls they rip from their owners. The bodies vanished after that” you explained, feeling dizzy.
Throat dry, you brought a hand to your forehead.
Beneath your typical mask of coldness never would have John imagined you were battling against yourself.
It brought him back to when he felt like he could have prevented his mum from leaving the house, saving her life. He was seventeen. Seventeen, not three or four. He could have warned her about the insanity of driving under those conditions. The wind was brutal that day, and it rained cats and dogs. Instead, he kissed her cheek good-bye and went to his room.
He blamed himself too at first. It was a long and tormenting process, but he comprehended he wasn’t guilty. You’d get to that point eventually, he thought, you’d have only gotten yourself killed too if you’d have intervened.
The breeze that came through the window dried your tears and moved the hair away from your notable cheekbones. He attempted to reach out to you for the second time. You just stared at him, biting your quivering lower lip. He stood before you, eyes boring into your mournful ones.
Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you slowly against him. You sobbed into his chest as you snuggled closer for shelter.
John pressed his cheek onto the top of your head.
“It’s not your fault” he repeated, emotion palpable in his tone.
It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.
//
2nd of February 1968, 12:13 pm
Matt dug his elbow into your ribs.
“He fell for you,” he said with a huge smirk, and imitated your pose: hands laced behind the back, eyes closed and body toward the sun taking in its pleasant rays.
“Shouldn’t have” you muttered after a pause, forcing the letters out of your mouth.
“That card you keep playing of apathy is ridiculous”
“I’m not playing any apathy card”
“Pretending you have no feelings for John won’t make it easier tomorrow”
You blinked and turned to him. He opened his and fixed them on you.
“I’m simply prioritizing other things”
“What other things are those?”
He knew already.
He knew that the things you just claimed to prioritize over your damn feelings were nonexistent. Like always, he was right. You didn’t want to triple the suffering that implied separating from John by confessing.
War was over. Angels defeated the beasts and freed themselves and humanity; home awaited your kind.
“My dear (Y/N),” Matt laughed dreamily, “you have all the time in the world to wait for him. Find out if he will still love you then”
//
3th of February 1968, 18:21 pm
John lost track of the number of times he rehearsed the torrent of words he planned on telling you.
He raised his hand and put it in a fist. Up in the air, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to knock on the door. Explicit terms and a deep groan escaped his lips. He dropped it and inhaled deeply, heart pounding frantically.
When he thought he was ready to finally do it Paul emerged from the closest corner, sprinted and knocked four times, running afterwards to the room that George and Ringo shared before John could catch him. And he did try.
“Ay! You want a fuckin’ hole in your face, you punk?!” he banged on their door, getting angrier with their laughs.
He almost lost it when Ringo hummed ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’.
Nonplussed, you crossed your arms and stood watching John from your spot after opening the door.
Just like before, his sensor did not fail him. He stopped his actions shortly and whirled around. Reddening abruptly, for a second he was sure his face was on fire.
You cleared your throat.
“Well?”
Cautiously, his brain stuttering, he glided the necessary steps to be in front of you.
He opened his mouth but didn’t get to say anything because Matt appeared from behind you.
“Who is—”
Immediately after seeing John his eyes widened.
“Oh God! I’m sorry! Were you- Oh my God, I’m sorry! Shit, go on” he gasped, and literally hurried inside.
That only aggravated the layer of crimson sprayed in John’s complexion.
You wanted to laugh but didn’t, obviously he was there to make the first move. You flashed him a small smile for support. He smiled at you too in return.
“Follow me”
Imperceptible in his voice, he succeeded in hiding elsewhere he feared rejection.
You raised an eyebrow teasingly. He frowned then chuckled in realization.
“Please?”
You giggled, which sounded way too girly for your liking, and took his hand in yours.
John led the way to the rooftop of the hotel.
Garlands of white and pink roses decorated the space, and since the sun was setting, you got to see how the orangy golden lights ghosted over John’s skin which made him look not handsome but celestial. At the distance, a trail of a plain crossed the horizon. You admired the view for a few more seconds and then drifted your eyes back to him.
The kindness and love reflected in his felt as warm as a kiss on the forehead of your favourite person in the world.
“I have to be quick, you don’t have much time”
He wasn’t wrong. You had to leave soon.
“Here, take this” he handed you a paper folded in half. “Open it when you’re there”
You averted the gaze towards the sheet and nodded. His eyes desperately searched yours again. Every second counted.
“I love you” he blurted out, a bizarre combination of panic and hope evident on his face. Like a child who just confessed that he broke granny’s vase, praying not to be grounded. “And I really, really want to kiss you”
The longing in his request melted your heart.
When you were about to let him know that you wanted it too you felt it in your back. You felt the muscles pulling the skin, pushing to make their way through to the outside.
One moment they weren’t there the other your wings were now displayed broadly for him to see.
They raised themselves, ready for departure.
John’s mouth fell open.
Unable to stop staring at their grandiosity and splendour, heartbeat wildly pumping, he ran a hand through his hair.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said breathlessly.
With tears in your eyes, you cupped his head in your hands and laid your mouth on his mouth without prior notice.
In that very instant, right there, the world stopped spinning.
He moved his silky wet lips against yours, pressing you further in until there was no space in between when the saltiness of your teardrops mixed with the saliva.
Your wings started aching awfully by now, and you knew what that meant.
Not wanting to, you pulled back from the kiss, lips burning.
“No” he purred, holding you in place, fingers gripping so tight around your upper arms that the skin beneath them turned white.
“John, it’s time”
Brokenhearted, you withdrew fully after rubbing your noses in an affectionate eskimo kiss.
You nudged intimately his chin up with your thumb.
John didn’t want to miss the opportunity to absorb your dazzling beauty thus he forced his eyes open.
“Part of my heart will stay with you. Remain a good man, Lennon, and return it to me. I trust that we’ll meet again in due course”
3th February 1968, 23:33 pm
Excitement throbbed in you. Seating cross-legged, you created walls with your wings to avoid snoopers and unfolded the paper.
It was a piano score. At the bottom of it, written in his handwriting, was a small note:
“I changed the ending. Now it’s about finding peace and picking up your broken bits to build a stronger armour. You’re a fierce woman, (Y/N), but whenever that feeling tightens and saddens your heart, play this”
Tangled in a mix of joy and sorrow, you half smiled as a tear rolled down your cheek and chin, landing in John’s signature.
//
8th December 1980, 22:50 pm
Everyone fell silent.
You noticed that all of your fellow companions and friends had their gazes bonded to the same spot. Slowly, you turned to check what they were looking at, and you nearly passed out.
He rarely visited. Only when he had good reasons to.
Gait steady, knowing very well what he was doing, he gave a quick look around as he paced.
His eyes found you.
Saint Peter offered you a reassuring smile, causing everyone to snap their heads at you.
“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)”
You swallowed.
“Y-yes?” you sputtered.
“I believe you’ll want to see this”
Uncertain, you joined him, not before sending Matt a doubtful look.
In any case, all your questions were answered when you reached the Gates and saw who was waiting for you. His wings were even more impressive, glittering and elegant than anyone else’s.
He was touching their feathers, inspecting them.
You ran to embrace him. Off guard as you took him, his arms were trapped under yours, preventing him from being able to hug you back.
“You shouldn’t be here. What happened, John?” you said, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.
“(Y/N)…” Saint Peter warned.
Under no circumstances it was allowed to ask for the reason behind someone’s death nor tell yours. It was the rules; the subject was forbidden.
You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.
Taking a couple of steps back, you looked up to him. John bored his eyes into yours, lips stretching into a dainty smile.
“Hello, love. I took great care of the piece of your heart that you borrowed me” he said, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “The time has come, I can give it back”
“It was for you, dummy” you answered with a laugh, voice cracking.
He dropped his head shyly to the floor, smile growing larger.
You followed where his eyes were pointing at, only to see his bare toes scrunching into the delicacy and softness of the cloud, getting familiar with it.
“I’m sorry you’re here” you whispered, honestly horrified that he didn’t get the chance to grow old.
“I was never scared of dying,” he spoke, slowly raising his head, “because I knew I’d be with you”
Staring at each other, none spoke for a moment.
“I love you too, by the way,” you admitted, pink arising in your cheeks. “I realized after I left that I didn’t say it back”
John smirked. He caressed your face and you felt the butterflies in your tummy flutter.
Love danced in the brightness of his eyes.
“Show me Heaven, (Y/N)”
#john lennon#john lennon x reader#ringo starr#george harrison#paul mccartney#the beatles#john lennon imagine#john lennon fanfic#john lennon fanfiction#angst#angels and demons#tayloredstarr
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Growing Pains...
Just to warn everyone, after this chapter it’ll get a bit darker for a while. I will make sure to post warnings!
Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.
Pairing: Slow burn Micah x female OC.
Warnings: Swearing, a mention of vomit
Chapter 8
I spend another moment just looking at Arthur’s tent, willing myself to move. What happened to make Dutch so mad? Why was Hosea so upset?
Hosea.
I look around and spot Hosea sat at the camp tables with Susan. She’s helping him mash some herbs together, for his cough no doubt. As I move towards the table, I catch eyes with Sean who must have woken up in the commotion. He lifts up his hands in a way to question me but all I can do is shrug.
“What was that about?” I ask Hosea as I sit across from him. He doesn’t look up, just continues to mash.
“Bad business ‘all. Nothing to worry about.” He replies. I reach across the table and hold his hand. Why can’t he look at me? “Hosea” I say gently.
He finally looks up and holds my hand in his.
“You know, Bessie and me, we tried. For a long time, we tried to….ya know…..” he stammers. I know what he’s saying. Bessie told me a long time ago when I asked why they didn’t have any children. One or both of them couldn’t. And despite how much it hurt, they stayed strong. Together.
“I know” I nod and offer a reassuring smile. One he tries to return but fails.
“You. You’re. We care for you.” He says quietly and I look to Susan who appears just as confused.
“Well, of course we do. What’s gotten into you all?” Susan asks sternly. She’s never been one to beat around the bush. I look back again at Hosea and I swear his eyes are glassy.
“Hosea” I whisper. But before I can say anything else, Dutch storms from his tent and walks over to us. He completely ignores Molly’s cries and she storms off herself.
“My friend. Ride with me.” he asks Hosea but it really is more of an order.
“Dutch, he’s” Susan starts but Dutch cuts her off with a hand in the face. I’ve seen Dutch argue with Susan many, many times. But I’ve never seen him act so rudely. She mutters something like “well I never” under her breath and pushes herself away from the table towards the girls. They’ll probably bare the brunt of Dutch’s insult.
“Dutch, what the hell is going on?” I say firmly, retracting my hand when Hosea stands. Neither man looks at me. “I’ll ask you to mind yourself little girl” he says sternly. Little girl!?
I’m speechless.
Hosea watches Dutch move towards the horses and takes my hand again, kissing it. He offers me a small smile and follows. As they’re mounting, Sean crouches down next to me and whispers.
“So, young Lenny said they stopped for a drink in Valentine b’fore heading back. Dutch caught sight of a man and all hell broke loose. Arthur ordered him to wait by the horses while he pulled the other two from this chap. Lenny said Hosea ‘nd Dutch were arguing all the way back but he couldn’t make out what it was about” Sean tells me before adding “Wanna find out?”.
Still watching them silently prepare to leave camp again, I nod. Sean pats me on the back and tells me to meet him round the back of camp in 30 seconds. I was going to follow them alone but it’s nice to have Sean watching my back. I know he’s only doing it for fun but still.
I count down the seconds and watch Hosea and Dutch trot slowly out of camp, talking side by side. With how Hosea is doing, they won’t be full on galloping anywhere so I don’t have to make a show of myself and run after Sean. Better to take my time and not draw attention.
As I’m walking to meet Sean, I glance over to see Micah with the other men all quietly talking. Probably about what’s happening. He sees me watching and I avert my eyes. I carry onto my destination but it’s no good, he’s intrigued.
I make it to Sean who has the horses ready to go but I hear Micah behind me.
“Hey. Whatta you think you’re doin’?” he asks while approaching.
As I mount Jett, me and Sean look at each other. Sean’s taking way too much pleasure in the drama but stops smirking when he sees my face. I answer Micah once I’m settled in the saddle.
“Dutch is in a foul mood, Hosea is talking to me like one of us is dying, Arthur won’t tell me what’s happened and Lenny can’t. So, I’ll find out myself.” I say simply, so sure he’ll understand.
“Alright” he scoffs “and you think you’ll be able to work out whatever’s going on with Dutch. You and the Irish idiot.” he smirks and it’s like a punch to the gut. This is my family too. Why couldn’t I help? I used to! “Why don’t you come down from there and leave it to us” he finishes while holding out his hand to me. How can one man go from being so empowering to so belittling in under 15 minutes.
“Fuck you Micah” is all I can muster and he looks completely taken aback. Without spending another second on how stupid I feel, I kick Jett into action with Sean following closely behind. I can hear Micah shouting from behind me but I don’t care to know what he’s saying.
We ride silently for around 5 minutes with Dutch and Hosea in our sights way ahead. After a while Sean starts to ride next to me, obviously feeling that he’d given me enough space.
“So, you’re havin’ one hellavah day.” he laughs and I smile. I find it hard to not smile with Sean, he’s so genuine in his care for others, “Care to catch me up on your little escapades?”.
“Maybe later” I reply, thinking back to the kiss. It was lovely. So gentle. But then he was so condescending! Maybe he does only see me as a child. Someone to play with but disregard once the going gets tough. “I’d rather focus on what’s upset Hosea so much”.
Sean nods and leads us around a small path, keeping us out of sight.
“Dutch was pretty angry too” he states.
“That’s not what worries me to be honest” I reply, “Dutch is Dutch. Anything sets him off at the moment…..but Arthur and Hosea. That bothers me. Arthur’s never kept anything from me. And Hosea? Man looks fit to collapse. Something’s upset him.”
I look around and realise that I have no idea where we are, “Sean this isn’t the way to Valentine.”
“No, it ain’t. I noticed that too.” Sean says, eyeing me cautiously.
We ride for a further 15/20 minutes before seeing the two men slow. We circle around to higher ground and watch as they pull up outside an old, dilapidated cottage. From where we are, we can see perfectly with a pair of binoculars and luckily, I always carry some in my saddle bag. We dismount our horses and army crawl to the end of the small hill we’ve occupied. The suns on its way down for the night but there is enough light left thankfully.
“Alright, hand’m over. Twas my idea, I get first look” Sean says wagging his hand at me and I roll my eyes. Such a child. I slap the binoculars into his hand and wait as he gathers his bearings. “Okaaay. Well. They’re waitin’. Hosea looks mad. Dutch looks……Dutchy”.
“Any idea what they’re waiting for?” I ask.
“Nope just waiting. Still waiting……oh! No, just waiting” he laughs.
“For fuck sake Sean” I groan, but he cuts off my whining.
“Okay, we have life. Someone’s approaching. An old gent, about Dutch’s age. Maybe younger.” Sean hands me the binoculars and I take them quickly.
I look through the view finder and seem my two surrogate dads with their arms crossed, waiting for this man to dismount his horse.
“Anything?” Sean asks and I shake my head but before he can say anything back, I hold up my hand to silence him.
As all 3 men head into the shack, the mystery man turns around to check the outside before going in properly. With his face turned to me I can see him as clear as day. He’s middle aged with brown hair. A patchy, unkempt beard and a rosy patch birthmark on his face.
As he heads inside and closes the door, I drop the binoculars. I can hear Sean asking me questions but none of it registers. All I hear is static. White noise.
A blinding pain enters my head and I swear for a moment I lose sight in both my eyes. All I can see is that horribly patchy, dirty face. I scrabble to get up and lunge myself towards Jett to stabilize myself but don’t quite make it.
I fall face first into the grass and before I can make any attempt at moving, I vomit.
As I’m vomiting up the painful, burning liquid from my stomach I can only just register Sean rubbing my back. He’s shushing me and at the same time asking me what’s wrong.
What’s happened? Do I know him? Am I ill? What should he do?
After heaving into the grass for what feels like forever, I sit back up. My eyes are streaming and my nose is running. I have vomit on my clothes and actually feel like I might faint.
I force myself to look at Sean and instantly throw my arms around his neck and hold on tight. He responds straight away, resuming rubbing my back. “Emmy…..tell me what’s happening love” he whispers.
My throat burns but I swallow and let out three quiet, shaky words:
“That’s my pa”.
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hypothetically
Lukas looks down at Philip’s head in his lap. It’s Saturday, finally, and they’ve been trying to catch up on Brooklyn 99 because they’re majorly behind, but Lukas’s thoughts keep drifting. He hates that he’s taking summer classes even though he tried to prepare himself. It’s weird that he’s taking the regular five and Philip has one, and it’s been cutting into their alone time severely. They’re newly engaged and they deserve better than this shit, especially since he was gone for two and a half months. But he thinks back to when he made the plans for the circuit, when he knew this was gonna come; he knew it was gonna suck, but it was the only way he’d be able to graduate on time.
But it still sucks.
“I can hear your brain working,” Philip says, still staring at the TV. “Can hear the cogs moving.”
Lukas scoffs. “Yeah?” he asks. “What’s it sound like?”
Philip rolls over onto his back, looking up at him now. “Like…little mice scratching at the inside of your skull.”
“Philip, they’re hamsters,” Lukas says, brushing Philip’s hair back. “We bought them little wheels and everything, remember?”
“Oh right,” Philip says, grinning. He presses pause on his phone and looks up at Lukas expectantly.
Lukas clicks his tongue. “It’s nothing. Just getting pissy about school again, as if anybody’s surprised.”
“Just imagine,” Philip says, gazing up at him, “when we don’t have school. When we just have jobs that we really like. I can take pictures of dogs all day if I want to. You could win three races and be good for like a month.”
“Not if I get some shitty sponsors who want me all over the place,” Lukas says.
“Don’t worry,” Philip says, and there’s a glint in his eye. “When I manage you I’ll only get you the best.”
Lukas leans down, pressing a kiss to Philip’s forehead.
A few minutes later his phone buzzes and he tries to muffle his gasp.
Hey, Dour works at a bar on 5th and 2nd so….!
Lukas had nearly forgotten about his rash plan to find Dour’s workplace and go there to punch him in the face. He’d been so sure about it, so filled with rage and pain and horror that nothing had seemed so right. But now it feels like it’s been ten years since he asked Nathan to find him and it looks sorta crazy in retrospect. He doesn’t know what to do anymore. He definitely wants to kill the guy for what he did but actually acting on his impulses probably isn’t the smartest thing to do. And he knows Philip won’t like it.
He chews on his lower lip, eyes flicking down to the top of Philip’s head. He tries to be as quiet as possible when he types out his reply.
Let’s like…table this…probably indefinitely :/ because it’s crazy yeah???
He clears his throat, smiling automatically when Philip laughs, turning his face into Lukas’s leg. Lukas rubs his engagement ring with his middle finger and feels more anxiety rising in his throat. He hates Dour. He hates him. But he knows he needs to chill the fuck out and think of what Philip would want.
Yeah, I mean…probably crazy. Guess we’re both crazy, uh oh
Lukas raises one eyebrow.
Yeah. Definitely crazy.
~
Philip is laying with his head on Lukas’s chest that night, the lights already out, Izzy fed and snoring in the corner.
“Why is your heart beating so fast?” Philip asks, sleepily.
Lukas has been thinking about it all day. He pretty much told Nathan that they should just back off and be cool, but he doesn’t know how he feels about anything. The whole situation feels unresolved, and he knows he’ll probably regret being gone that day for the rest of his damn life.
He has to tell Philip what he was thinking.
“Hypothetically,” Lukas says. “If I was like…if I like, tracked down Dour and like, punched him in the face and ran away, is that…is that weird?”
Philip goes a little stiff. Lukas feels the air around them go stale and then Philip sits up, bracing himself on his forearm. His brows are furrowed and he’s searching Lukas’s face.
“Hypothetically?” Philip asks. “What kind of hypothetical is that?”
Lukas just stares at him, shrugging a little bit.
“Lukas,” Philip says, voice low. “You didn’t actually like, do this, right?”
Lukas’s mind is running a mile a minute. “No,” he says. “But I, uh—maybe like, got close to doing it.”
“What’s close?” Philip asks, and he’s got that tone that Lukas doesn’t like to hear.
“I asked Nathan to find out where he worked and he did,” Lukas says, feeling a little bit like an idiot just laying here.
Philip grimaces, his mouth falling open. “Jesus, Lukas,” he says, pulling away from him, losing all points of contact as he scoots further onto his side of the bed. Lukas sits up, panicking a little bit, but then Philip starts talking again. “You stalked this idiot?”
“I mean, stalked is a strong word—”
“You had Nathan find him, literally find his place of work somehow, and you were planning on going there to punch him in the face,” Philip says. “Right?”
It sounds worse when he says it like that.
Philip sighs heavily and shakes his head. “You could have gotten hurt, that guy is a freak—”
“I wanted to defend you,” Lukas babbles. “I wanted—I feel like shit and he needs to fucking know he can’t assault my boyf—my fiancé without me doing something about it.”
“That’s not defending me,” Philip says, and he looks disgusted and Lukas is a little bit at a loss here. “That’s defending your own self.”
“No—”
“What would it do for me?” Philip asks, getting heated. “How does you punching him take away what he did?”
Lukas opens and closes his mouth a couple times.
“Maybe you think it’s for me, babe, but it’s not. It’s for you, to make you feel better about what happened. Like—oh hey shithead, I wasn’t there but here I am now. That’s you, that’s defending yourself and your pride and like…your territory.” He shakes his head and it looks like he smells something bad.
“No,” Lukas says, his heart beating even faster now. “No, no, I wanna—he hurt you, Ryan hurt you and I wanted to hurt him, because he hurt you.”
Philip stares at him. “What?”
“What?” Lukas asks, breathing hard, a high-pitched whining in his ear.
“You just said—”
“Dour hurt you, Philip,” Lukas says, louder. “He did it on purpose when I wasn’t here and I fucking hate that it happened, I hate that I was so goddamn helpless—”
“Lukas, it is what it is,” Philip says, and there’s a new sort of softness in his eyes. “It’s done, punching him won’t make it undone. I’m okay, I’m fine, I promise.”
“I couldn’t protect you—”
“I’m not a child,” Philip says. “It could have happened to you, and shit, if it had I would have wanted to kill him too. But I wouldn’t stalk him and try to go hit him—especially if you were pressing charges against him. You don’t think you tracking him down and fucking him up would destroy my case?”
Lukas blinks a couple times. He can’t think.
“It isn’t your fault, what happened,” Philip says. “I don’t blame you at all. You weren’t here and it’s fine, it’s not—your job, to sit around with a sword trying to defend me. We love each other, we protect each other, sure, but this wasn’t—this wasn’t something you can claim as your fault. It’d be the same thing if it happened when I was in class or on a job or something.”
Lukas realizes he did take the blame. And he’d probably take the blame for anything that happened to Philip, considering their relationship and all the shit he put him through in high school. He’ll never forgive himself for it. He wants to protect him. He wants to keep him safe, keep him happy, keep the fuckers of the world away from him. But he’s right, here. Lukas has a hard time seeing shit from other people’s perspectives, but fuck, he can’t stop the world from turning even though he might want to.
“You’re not gonna do this shit right?” Philip says, looking over his shoulder at him.
“No,” Lukas says, definitively.
“You swear?” Philip asks, widening his eyes, shining in the dark.
“Yes,” Lukas says. “I swear.”
Philip nods but he still looks pissed.
“Are you mad at me?” Lukas asks.
“I’m just annoyed,” Philip says. “That you would even like, entertain this idea…we’re not in a gang, Lukas.”
“I hit that guy at the graduation party,” Lukas says, soft.
Philip scoffs and another burst of anger flares up in him. “That was a literal, in-the-moment thing, I was drunk and you were there and you stopped something from happening. This is completely different, it’s over, it’s done, you were planning on following this freak and you probably would have gotten arrested—listen, I’m done with this conversation, I’m going to bed.” He scoots even further to his side of the bed and whips up the covers, turning his back to Lukas as he gets under them. He flops onto his side and pulls the comforter up over his shoulder.
“I decided against it,” Lukas pleads, chewing on his lower lip.
“Good.”
“So don’t be mad, I realized it was like, not smart—”
“I’m tired,” Philip says.
Lukas stares at his back for a couple seconds before he sighs, getting under the covers himself and sinking down into the pillows. He stares up at their popcorn ceiling and chews on the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers.
“It’s fine, babe,” Philip says.
“It’s not fine because you’re mad,” Lukas says, clenching his hands together under the blankets.
“I’ll get over it,” Philip says.
Lukas sighs, feeling stupid and obnoxious. They never go to bed without saying I love you unless something is severely fucked up, like on the cruise. “I love you,” he says, feeling even stupider.
“Love you too,” Philip says.
Lukas sorta hates how tears sting in his eyes, and he closes them, trying to chase sleep.
~
He tosses and turns all night, has stupid dreams, stares at Philip’s shoulders for a while and finally passes out at about five in the morning. When he wakes up Philip doesn’t have his back to him anymore, and instead he’s cuddled up against Lukas’s arm, breathing softly through his mouth.
Lukas doesn’t know why Philip puts up with him. Half the time he doesn’t see straight until Philip knocks some sense into him, and he doesn’t know where the fuck he’d be or how he’d be acting if Philip wasn’t a fucking saint. Lukas sighs, brushing his nose against Philip’s hair and closing his eyes again.
~
When he wakes up again he’s alone. He sits up, blinking away the blurriness, and hears Izzy’s collar jingling back and forth out in the living room. Lukas rubs at his chest and swings his legs over the side of the bed, getting up and padding out there. Philip is putting some of the leftover chicken on Izzy’s plate on the counter, and before Lukas can even stop himself he’s walking over and hugging him from behind.
Philip laughs a little bit, patting his hand.
“Are you still mad?” Lukas asks.
Philip slips out of his grasp, walking over and putting Izzy’s plate down for her. Lukas’s heart is rattling again, watching him. Philip turns around and leans on the bar, shaking his head. “Just like….”
“I’m sorry,” Lukas says. “It was stupid and rash and you’re right. I was just—I don’t know, I fucking hate that I was useless when something happened to you and I wanted to fix it but this…you’re right, this wouldn’t fix it. It might make me feel better for five seconds—”
“But that’s it,” Philip says. “And if you get arrested you’d be hurting me and—”
“I don’t want that,” Lukas says, shaking his head. “At all, ever.”
“Just go to the gym and punch shit,” Philip says. “I’ll go with you.”
“Okay,” Lukas says, because it’s a good idea and he’d probably agree to anything at this point.
“And tell Nathan that I don’t need his vigilante guilt either,” Philip says, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re gonna press charges and King Prick is gonna lose and hopefully have to do a million hours of community service or some shit and we can laugh at him in court, but other than that I don’t want to think about him. Or worry about you going out and doing something stupid.”
Lukas nods, looking down at his feet.
“I know you just want me safe,” Philip says, walking over to him. “I know how much you love me and I love you too, and that’s exactly why I don’t want you thinking like this. Just…stay with me.”
“Okay,” Lukas says, his voice breaking. He tries to get it all out of his head, all the versions of revenge that have been playing on loop since he found out what happened. The gym is a good idea. He’ll just punch the bags and pretend it’s Dour’s face and that’s the most revenge he’ll get. Doing better for Philip from now on is what he needs to focus on. “I won’t be crazy.”
“Don’t be crazy,” Philip says, rubbing his arms up and down. “But you’re not…I know you’re not. Lukas, did you…did you hear yourself last night?”
Lukas sighs. “Yeah, I was just—”
“No, I mean,” Philip says, wetting his bottom lip. “You said Ryan. Instead of Dour, you said—you said Ryan.”
Lukas feels a little chill go through him and he focuses on a spot on the far wall. He doesn’t remember, but the old, tainted memories surge forward, like they’d been hiding just underneath all of this shit. And it feels too true, too real, that all of this with Philip being hurt reminds him of everything with Ryan. That moment in Anne’s apartment, when he was there, behind the door. Those moments before blackness when Lukas knew Philip would be alone. Lukas was helpless. Helpless to protect him, helpless to save him. He remembered Philip’s horror, the way it sounded, and he’s been projecting those sounds onto the images he doesn’t have, just outside their apartment, in their hallway where that fucker kissed his Philip. Where that fucker stepped over boundaries and brought another trauma into their lives. Created another time when Lukas failed to protect the person he loves most.
Philip touches his cheek. “All of this is bringing it back up, huh?” he asks, quiet.
Lukas hadn’t even realized it, but it makes a lot of sense. He swallows hard. “Guess so,” he says, trying to blink away that face.
“It’s okay,” Philip whispers, touching Lukas’s cheekbones softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
“Yeah,” Lukas says, sucking in a breath.
“Maybe we should talk to somebody again?” Philip asks, stepping a little closer. “Like we did in the beginning.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Lukas says, fast. Therapy helped, but he always feels so stupid talking about himself. He meets Philip’s eyes and nods at him. “You sure you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, eager to change the subject away from his fucked up head.
“I’m sure,” Philip says, the corner of his mouth twitching up.
Lukas presses their lips together, cupping Philip’s face in his hands. “I hate when you’re mad at me,” he whispers.
“It never lasts long because I look at your stupid face and my whole façade crumbles,” Philip says, lightness in his tone as he kisses him again.
The fact that Lukas is bringing up their past trauma without realizing it probably doesn’t hurt either, but he doesn’t mention it again. His ears flare red with embarrassment. “Thank God for this stupid face,” Lukas says, hauling him closer for a kiss that doesn’t break as quickly as the others did. He doesn’t wanna think about Dour. He definitely doesn’t wanna fucking think about Ryan.
He kisses Philip harder, trying to wash it all away.
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things you say that make my heart go wild (ch. 1)
ask and you shall receive ;) since it seems like people want me to post my newsies shit on here! this is a sprace-centric newsies fic that is basically just a compilation of mini-fics and eventually one-shots based on sentence proompts so...here’s the first part and you can read it on ao3 here !
chapter 1 - “none of this is your fault”
Race was sitting on the steps of the Brooklyn boy's apartment building fiddling with about half a cigar between his fingers. His hat was pulled on tighter than usual, forcing his blonde curls to cover more of his face as he looked down. His knees were scraped up with holes in his trousers and blood just seeping through the holes. His exposed arms were covered in bruises and Spot stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw him. Sure, they had been best friends since their selling days together when they were kids, but it had been ages since something like this had happened. After a while, Race got used to getting into scruffs with locals, being from Manhattan and all, but in the few years since they stopped selling, he hadn't had a problem. He had found a small apartment just on the other side of the bridge and Spot was never more than five minutes away to protect him. In a completely platonic way of course, yep, nothing more than that.
So to see the boy Spot had spent years trying to keep out of harms way, sitting beaten and bloodied on his doorstep, Spot had plenty of pent up worry to let out.
"Tony, what the hell happened t'ya?" He practically slid down in front of him and he kneeled on the pavement, taking in the boy's injuries. Every possible explanation was running through his head as to what could have possibly happened, but Race just sat there, not moving and not saying anything. "Antonio, c'mon, please say somethin'."
Race just sniffled, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes as Spot felt his breath hitch in his throat. He took the boy's shaking hands in his own, lifting Race's chin delicately as he saw the real reason why his hat was pulled so far down his face.
"Shit, Racer, who did this?" He was trying so hard not to yell, he really was, but someone hurt his boy. Yeah, so he fucking loved him, so what? It wasn't like he'd ever tell anyone about it. He just couldn't imagine anyone having any reason to want to hurt him, especially since he wasn't selling papes anymore. Nowadays he just stayed back at his apartment working on recipes or filling his kitchen with way more food than he could ever eat himself.
"Jus' some guys that jumped me 'n this bar downtown," Race mumbled, leaning his head into Spot's hand that gently cupped his cheek. "It's nothin' bad really, I jus' didn't feel like goin' home alone again s'all."
Spot felt his heart wrench at the thought of Race sitting alone in his bathroom, cleaning up all his cuts and bruises in silence with no-one there to take care of him. But instead he went to him.
"Hey, hey it's okay. It's okay Tony, jus' come wit' me, we'll get ya' all cleaned up."
He held the boy's arm as he helped him to his feet, wary of how well me might be able to stand. Race wobbled a little, but shook his head the moment Spot stopped moving.
" 'm fine Spotty, jus' been sitting 'ere a while is all," Race spoke, not helping Spot's racing heartbeat much, but helping enough for him to get the boy upstairs. The moment they walked into Spot's apartment, Race finally felt safe. So maybe he hadn't told Spot the whole story, but he would, he always did. Besides, it always seemed like Spot was the best one to talk to. He never judged, never prodded, and most of all, never made him feel guilty if he didn't want to talk. Race loved him for that. For a lot of reasons actually, but he'd never tell.
Spot carefully walked the boy over to the sofa, helping him lay down before wrapping him in the blanket he knew Race loved to borrow when he came over, and, purely out of what felt natural, placed a quick kiss on his forehead. He walked off into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and didn't look back.
Race could feel the heat rising to his cheeks like a wildfire as he curled the blanket tighter around him and smiled softly.
Spot barely even realized what he had done before he reached the kitchen and suddenly his face was burning. He just did that. He just kissed Race. He just kissed the one and only Antonio Higgins and didn't get slapped in the face for doing it. Sure, it was just on the forehead, but fuck he probably knows now.
So Spot took a shaky breath and pulled out two mugs from his cupboard. He knew which one was Race's favorite, he always used the same one every time he stayed over. It felt somewhat strange to be the one making Race a cup of coffee, seeing as the other was always the first one up, and therefore, always the one making coffee. Two mugs, one yellow one blue, one with sugar and the other black, and one just warm with the other scalding hot. Seventeen cautious steps that Spot took back into the living room as he handed Race his cup of coffee. The other boy curled up his legs to his chest, making space for Spot to sit down.
He sat, staring lovingly at the boy beside him and he guided Race's legs to stretch across his lap, rubbing soft circles into his thigh.
"Thanks," Race mumbled quietly, a casual smile on his face. Spot beamed back at him.
" 'Course," he said back with a smile. "But I just have to ask, Tony."
The second those words left his mouth Spot saw Race's smile fall.
"No, no, no, it's okay, yous' don't gotta' talk about anythin' you don't wanna." Race nodded, keeping his head down.
"I know," he spoke, his voice still small. This wasn't the Race he knew and that was the only thing driving Spot to push further. "But yous' deserve to know."
Spot felt a slight lightness in his chest as he continued. Race trusted him. He was scared and uncomfortable, but he trusted him.
"Last night I went out wit' a few a' the 'Hattan boys to this new bar that opened a few blocks down from the old lodgin' house. Jack n' I had been plannin' to meet up wit' some'a the boys still sellin' over there so a few of us all went down last night. It was a gay bar, Spotty," he said, his voice trembling just retelling it. Spot took one of his hands, holding it delicately as he began to rub into his hand the same way he did to his legs. "I didn't think it'd be much of a' problem, but there were these guys."
Tears fell from the corners of his bright blue eyes, drowning his freckled cheeks and breaking Spot's heart with each one that fell.
"We jus' wanted ta' celebrate 'cause it was Jack 'n Crutchie's annivers'ry, but these guys, they-they jus' started goin' after 'em and pickin' a fight. I-I couldn't let 'em just do that, Sean! I-I stepped in 'nd tried to protect 'em, but this big guy, he-he just soaked me with no hesitation! I didn't even know what happened 'cause I jus' blacked out after a coupl'a punches," he choked out, sobbing through every word. "Then I jus' woke up lookin' like this in the alley out back behind the bar. Now that I think 'bout it, I's not even sure it was last night."
With that, Spot grabbed both of their coffee mugs, placing them on the table beside him and threw his arms around the boy. His lanky frame was shaking violently and spot just pulled him into his lap. They stayed like that for ages, Spot trying to slow the other's breathing and just holding him tightly.
"Hey, hey, it's okay Tony, just breathe, you're okay," Spot murmured into the boy's ear, pressing soft kisses into his hair and cheeks.
"'m sorry," Race mumbled, the most painful sadness in his voice as he buried his face into Spot's chest.
"Antonio Higgins, I promise you, none of this is your fault. Got it? None of it. You are absolutely incredible, Tony. Not many guys would'a stood up to a group a' guys like that jus' to protect their friends like that."
Race smiled a bit at that. Spot couldn't help but admit it was nice to see his smile. God, how he loved that smile. His crooked grin and magically straight teeth. The way he somehow had two dimples on each side when he grinned real big. That smile was worth everything to Spot Conlon and he'd say or do anything to see it.
So he took a chance, feeling his heart beating out of his chest, and pressed their foreheads together. He could feel Race's breath hitch against his lips as their faces somehow got closer and closer with every breath.
"Stop me if this isn't okay," he whispered, probably less that an inch from the other boy's face.
Letting his eyes close on instinct, Spot softly pressed his lips to Race's trembling ones, feeling the boy's smile threatening to break the kiss. He almost couldn't believe his luck. Someway, somehow, the most beautiful boy to ever set foot in New York was kissing him back and smiling so wide he almost couldn't believe someone could be that happy. But he was, and Spot would be lying if he said he wasn't too.
"Fuck, Sean I' been waitin' for you to do that since the day I first saw you," Race mumbled against Spot's lips, breaking their kiss for only a moment. They both couldn't mask their smiles any longer. "I can't believe this is happenin', holy shit."
And with that breathy laughter, the boy threw his arms around the shorter of the two, eternally grateful for having someone like him in his life. Someone to hold when the days were shitty, someone to visit when you just need something to make you smile, or someone always ready with a joke when you desperately need to laugh. Sean Conlon had been all of those things for him for longer than he could remember, but now he was something else.
Now he was someone to tell him he was beautiful even with bruises across his face and dark circles under his eyes. Now he was someone to make you forget there were people out there who abandoned you because now there's one person who will never let you go. And most importantly, now he had some one to say this.
"I love you so much," Spot whispered, the pure, unfiltered happiness shining through his voice as he pressed their lips together once more. Race wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry with the most overwhelming joy he'd ever experienced because it had been years since he'd heard someone say that to him. Years since someone loved him enough to say it out loud.
But he didn't. That would be reserved for later when his brain actually fully processed everything that had happened.
"Oh my god, I love you too. So, so much."
And that was that. They didn't move for a little while, both just enjoying each other's presence for a while before Spot remembered something that, awkwardly, they had both completely forgotten.
"Fuck, okay we gotta' go get you all cleaned up, love." The nervous awkwardness that filled his voice was so not-Spot Conlon that it almost made Race laugh out loud but he simply nodded and allowed his new boyfriend? to lead him to the bathroom to wash up. They were doing fine so far, and who knows, maybe Race'll go back to that bar one day and find those guys again, except maybe this time he'll be able to tell them that apparently beating the shit out of people doesn't make you any less-gay, in fact, it actually just gets you a boyfriend.
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David/Ace request of them hiding from a Killer. I hope you don’t mind I used that as a base and added plenty to it, anon!
The Suffocation Pit, Ace knew, held a deeper story than what he was able to see. A large group of workers buried in its depths, bodies probably still there under compact dirt. Every now and then, the pits would be open, leading to a bloody basement with a cruel, untouchable shrine of hooks to the Entity. The part that Ace always looked forward to was the chest, which tended to hold better things than the other chests around the area.
However, he knew better than to immediately start looting, he had to at least do a generator or two, keep the Killer busy a little, and make a contribution to the team effort. He knelt to work on a generator, hearing the distance whirring of a chainsaw. That meant either Leatherface or Hillbilly, and the former didn’t usually have any reason to randomly rev his. He was nestled into a corner surrounded by obstacles, so Ace was unafraid as he kept working.
The match was going well for him so far, getting a generator up without any interferences, and calmly moving on to another. There were only two left to do now. Someone was either really skilled at juking the Hillbilly, or they were all hiding from him well. Now was a perfect time to go looking for loot to bring back. He slowly walked through the building that held the mineshaft, cautious as his heart started racing.
He looked over his shoulder and spotted the chainsaw above the Hillbilly’s shoulder, charging straight at him. Ace scrambled through the side entrance out of the way, hearing the chainsaw collide with the wall behind him. The Hillbilly recovered with an alarming speed, chasing after Ace. Ace just had to make it to the window, and he’d be able to lose the Hillbilly without issue. He was halfway through the window when the Hillbilly yanked on his leg, making him hold onto the window ledge for dear life.
The sledgehammer smashed into his leg, and Ace swore he could hear something shatter. He cried out loudly in pain, using his other leg to kick at the Hillbilly and free himself. He more or less fell from the window, holding his left leg that was most definitely broken. The Entity normally didn’t allow that to happen, the chase was ruined if one couldn’t even run. Being helpless like this was not something Ace liked, at all.
Then the Hillbilly turned around and went elsewhere. Ace grit his teeth in a forced smile as he watched the Hillbilly leave and his heart rate calmed. He grabbed the window ledge to help him stand, any pressure on his left leg sent a sharp, agonizing pain through it. Alive, at least. Yet, he couldn’t explain why. It was difficult to avoid the settling paranoia, there was no fixing his leg until he either escaped or died. It didn’t take a genius to realize that. He’d slow them down at best, and at worst, they’d use him as a distraction. It depended too much on who it was.
He hated it, having to watch his back for both survivors and Killers. They could lead the Hillbilly to him, whether by accident or on purpose, and he had to stay hidden. He walked around the rocks and other garbage in the way, heading back into the mineshaft. He could find something to at least give his leg support, and be able to walk on it. It’d be agonizingly slow, but it was better than the slow limp he was working with now. He froze when he heard footsteps, hiding under the ramp that lead above the depths of the mineshaft.
“Ace, I know you’re ‘ere.”
Shit. He kept a forced smile, even as his leg screamed in agony when he set it down. David turned the corner, eyes narrowed on Ace.
“You seriously lootin’ right now?”
Ace gave a shrug.
“You all were doing fantastically. Thought I’d go and get something to bring back.”
It wasn’t an entire lie, but not what he was doing right now. David crossed his arms.
“Riiight.”
Ace’s attention darted to the pathway up as his heart started racing. David moved under the wooden ramp, Ace pressed his back against the wall. Through the wooden planks, they could see the Hillbilly walk above them and look around intently. He walked past, heading to the window Ace had fallen out of earlier. Ace shifted, the motion sending more pain through his leg. He almost screamed, until David clamped a hand over Ace’s mouth.
“Don’t move a single fuckin’ inch.”
David shoved Ace behind him, keeping his grip on Ace’s arm tight and his hand over Ace’s mouth. The Hillbilly walked back over to them, moving right past them and into the basement. Ace stayed still, even as the Hillbilly came back. Somehow, by some unnatural luck, they weren’t spotted. Neither of them moved until their heartbeats started slowing. David released his grip, putting his arms at his sides.
“Thank fuck ‘e can’t see shit.”
David started walking up the mineshaft, pausing when he heard a whine from muffled whine from Ace. Ace held his leg, still keeping up a grin.
“Sooner we leave the better, yeah?”
David crossed his arms.
“Yeah, s’always the case. But, you can’t walk, can ya?”
“Sure I can.”
Ace took a step forward, wincing at the pain he felt.
“Just gotta take my time. I’m still standing, aren’t I?”
Ace struggled to keep the fear from making his voice crack. This was, by far, one of the worst situations he found himself in. David rolled his eyes.
“Sure, barely. Don’t bullshit me, you’re gonna get caught if you keep trying to walk on that.”
David, without warning, walked close and lifted Ace over his shoulders.
“OW, hey! David, put me down!”
“Shut it, you’ll lead ‘im right to us! Besides, I’m trying to save your arse instead of leavin’ ya to hobble slower than a damn snail. Unless you feel like meeting chainsaw today.”
Ace sighed. Hard to argue with that. He let himself fall limp as he was carried across David’s shoulders fireman style. His leg still hurt, and any shift seemed to cause more pain.
“Just, don’t let the others see me over your shoulders like a ragdoll?”
“Fine, since your pride’s more important than your life.”
He huffed, not really wanting to argue more. He’d have plenty of time to piss off the scrapper when he wasn’t at his mercy. He felt David shift, and heard the distant dings of generators coming online. The gate’s switch lit up red.
“Settin’ ya down, careful.”
Ace nodded, leaning against the wall and staying off his left leg. He couldn’t see it under the pant leg, but there was no way it was looking pretty. He fought back whines of pain, keeping an eye out for the Hillbilly. The gate slowly opened after blaring several times. Using the wall as a support, Ace walked through the gate. David crossed his arms, walking next to him.
“Almost as stubborn as I am. Th’fuck are you tryin’ to prove?”
“Nothing, besides that I’m fine and can take care of myself.”
“You’re a royal fuckin’ moron.”
Ace couldn’t help a genuine, devious grin.
“Aww, you think I’m royal. Appreciate it.”
David let out a drawn out, annoyed sigh.
“It’s real damn tempting to beat the shit outta you.”
“Sorry, I’m a little booked at the moment. Maybe later?”
David just shook his head as he walked into the fog, Ace following behind him. When he reached the campfire, Ace let himself collapse next to it and let out a breath of relief. His leg still hurt, but now he had the chance to look at it. It was already a distinct purple color. David walked over, eyes widening slightly.
“Shit, didn’t think the Entity did broken bones that bad.”
Ace simply shrugged, giving a pained smile.
“I didn’t either, but.. Hey, the more you know, right?”
“Sit still, I’ll get Claudette to try ‘nd patch that up.”
Ace nodded, catching his breath. Now that adrenaline wasn’t running through his veins, it was painfully clear how much damage the hammer did. Claudette was in a sprint when she came over, kneeling beside him.
“Oh, God, this looks really bad. I’ll have to really put something together. Just, wait here, okay?”
In an instant she was gone, leaving David to sit beside Ace. The latter let out a sigh.
“Thanks.”
David smiled, giving a light pat on the back.
“Don’t mention it. Would do the same any day, even if I wanna smack ya.”
Ace leaned against David, laughing quietly.
“I’ll try not to do that to show my appreciation.”
David just shook his head, holding Ace close.
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It takes three months, and Parker coming down with some God-awful flu, but Sophie is finally, finally, comfortable around him. Somehow, she managed to keep from catching it, and after he was better, they seemed to fall into a comfortable friendship.
She was still head over heels for him, and now was even more in love with him, because he was the one person, aside from her best friend, she was most comfortable around.
Dammit, why did he have to be so great?
They’ve been texting on and off for weeks now. Parker was serious about wanting to get to know her, it wasn’t just a fevered promise, and Sophie wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
On one hand, she was thrilled - Parker Maddens was texting her - this was everything she had wanted for four years.
On the other hand, he doesn’t like her the way she wants him to, and even though she’s okay with that for now…she really just wants to be with him.
Now, it didn’t seem as far fetched as when she liked him in high school, because they were friends now. He knew she existed.
Her phone buzzing breaks her out of her thoughts, and she can’t help the grin spreading across her face when she sees his name flash across her screen.
Parker (now)
you hungry?
yeah, always, why?
Parker (now)
want to get food?
Sounds good to me. Where’d you wanna go?
Parker (now)
I can meet you at the cafeteria, I’m almost there anyways.
Okay, cool
Sophie is practically buzzing with excitement. It’s so pathetic that seeing him is the highlight of her day, but she can’t help it.
She loves him.
The walk from her dorm to the cafeteria had fatigued her to the point of exhaustion, and a headache had bloomed across her forehead and settled into her temples and behind her eyes. She’s suddenly longing to crawl back into bed and sleep it off. Instead, she collapses into the seat across the table from Parker.
“Sophie!” Parker cries, grinning widely at her.
She shoots him a tired smile, “hey.”
He cocks his head, “you okay?”
She nods, “yeah, I’m fine…just tired. So, um…have any plans for this week?”
He squirms, suddenly refusing to look at her, “yeah, I..uh…uh…I have…a…date?”
Her blood runs cold, and she can feel the color draining from her face, “o-oh.”
“Sophie, I-“
“-it’s fine.”
“I know-“
“-We’re friends. We aren’t dating, there’s no reason you shouldn’t go…when, um…when is it?” She asks, trying to keep her voice from wavering.
“Friday night.”
“I h-hope you have a good time.”
He nods slowly, never taking his eyes off her face, “thanks…um, I wasn’t sure if I should tell you or not…but I didn’t want you to find out from someone else.”
She shoots him a flat look, “in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t talk to anyone but you and Annie.”
“…That’s…okay, yeah. But I still thought you should know.”
As much as she hates herself for it, she just can’t cope with the fact that Parker is going on a date with someone who isn’t her. In fact, she’s so upset about it that she hardly sleeps the entire week.
Between stressing over the fact that Parker is never (ever) going to have any interest in her (something she hates herself for), stressing over her school work, and pulling extra shifts at work, by Thursday night, she’s miserable. The fatigue and headache she had felt on Monday was back with a vengeance, and with it, brings muscle aches, congestion and an awful sore throat.
She calls out of work for the next day, because there’s no way in hell she’s going to be able to pull a four thirty shift if she still feels this shitty in the morning.
“Sophie!” Annie cries, walking into Sophie’s bedroom, “let’s go do something.”
It’s at that moment that Sophie regrets rooming with her best friend. It would be so much easier if she roomed with somebody she never talked to, but of course, that’s not the case.
Sophie groans and clutches her pillow, “I think I’m ju-hhh…Hha’kshh! Hhi’Kktsch! *Snff*…s-sorry…Hhh’itschgnx! *Snff* I’mb really tired…I think I’mb just goindg to stay ind.”
Annie grimaces, “yikes…you sound bad…finally caught that bug going around?”
“I guess,” she mumbles, coughing lightly.
“Do you need anything?”
“Ndot really.”
“Have you had medicine?”
“Ndo.”
“Tea?”
“Ndo.”
“Have you had dinner yet?”
“Ndot hundgry.”
Annie purses her lips, “that’s not an acceptable answer. Do you have a fever?”
“I dond’t kndow,” Sophie shrugs tiredly, and drops her eyes so she’s staring straight ahead. “Probably.“
Annie presses a hand to Sophie’s forehead and then frowns, “shit. Alright, do you want to stay here, or did you want to go out into the living room? We can watch movies.”
“Umb…sure…mby head hurts though.”
“Where?”
She gestures to her forehead and mumbles out that she has a sinus headache. She’s pretty sure she’s a minute away from drowning in her own congestion.
The rest of the night is long, she can’t seem to get comfortable, despite all of the medicine Annie forced into her. Tea hardly helps how raw her throat feels, and the pain leaves her nearly in tears. Annie wants to take her to the emergency room, but Sophie convinces her that she’ll be fine, she just needs sleep.
Except, sleep is impossible to come by. She tries, God knows she tries, but the fever leaves her tossing and turning and falling in and out of a restless sleep.
Finally, by the grace of God, she falls asleep around two. The bliss is short lived when her phone rings not even three hours later, pulling her from a somewhat decent slumber.
She groans in annoyance, choking on a cough as she grabs her phone. Parker is on the other end, and even though she wants to answer, she’s exhausted, she feels like actual hell and falls back asleep before she can give it another thought.
Parker’s calls wake her up four more times, and eventually, she’s so mad, she gives in and answers, “what?”
“Where are you?”
“I called out,” she croaks, “ndow leave mbe alonde and let mbe sleep.”
“Are you sick?”
“Yes, so explaind to mbe why I’mb awake at five ind the freakindg mborndindg,” she spits, irritation lacing her tone.
“Sorry, sorry…are you okay?“
“Yes, I’mb finde…I’mb exhausted, I’mb goindg back to sleep.”
She tries to fall asleep, but she can’t. Between the coughing, sore throat, headache and congestion, she’s miserable, and sleep is no longer an option.
Sophie pushes herself into a sitting position, which makes her vision swim. Once it clears, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, drags her blanket behind her, and trudges out to the couch in hopes that watching something will lull her back to sleep.
*
It’s as if her body suddenly gives up on the idea of sleep. She wishes with everything she has that she can get even ten minutes of shut-eye, because each time she blinks, it’s harder and harder to open her eyes.
There’s a knock on her door around six thirty, and after it’s clear nobody is going to answer it, she struggles off the couch and opens the door.
“Parker?” She mumbles, blinking heavily at him.
“You should be lying down,” he says softly, “shit, it was a good thing you called out of work.”
She turns on her heel and stumbles back to the couch. She collapses onto it face-first with a groan.
“What’re you doindg here?”
“I came to check on you, and bring you medicine and stuff. Annie texted me and said you guys were out.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, Parker?” Someone says, and Sophie looks at the door to see probably one of the prettiest people, with the most beautiful honey-blonde hair she’s ever seen. Her heart drops when she realizes that this person is Parker’s date.
This…gorgeous human being, who looks like she’s just radiating warmth, is who Parker is choosing to spend his Friday night with.
What. The. Hell? Who looks like that?
Parker wheels around, his hand going to the back of his neck, “Ava! Um…y-you’re here, what are you-“
“-I know you wanted me to wait outside, but I just wanted to check on you guys. Sophie, right?” She says, looking at Sophie with such soft concern, it made her want to cry.
Sophie nods, and can feel herself scowling at Ava.
She knows it’s irrational to be this pissed off at someone for how they look, but she’s suddenly filled with anger and despair and frustration, and she just wants Parker to leave so she can cry.
She already feels like shit, and this is just making it worse.
Parker looks between Ava and Sophie, a sheepish look on his face. Sophie turns her glare on him, but all malice is lost behind the glassy eyes, fever flush, and the little, pitiful sniffles she gives every few seconds.
She goes into an awful, lung seizing coughing fit that makes all three of them grimace (Sophie because it hurts, and Ava and Parker because it sounds awful).
“Sh-shit,” she croaks, clutching her pillow as tears spring to her eyes.
“Aw, Sophie,” Parker frowns, “you sound awful, are you okay?”
She just shrugs, because no, she’s not okay, but she can’t seem to find the energy to voice how she’s feeling.
“Do you need someone to stay with you?” Ava asks.
“Ndo,” Sophie croaks. “I’mb and adult, I cand take care of mbyself.”
Parker sets down the plastic bag on the table, and starts taking out a few bags of cough drops, some tissues, cold and flu medicine (both in pill and liquid form).
“I brought you tea and soup, too. Annie was worried you haven’t eaten yet.”
“…thank you,” she croaks.
As soon as Ava and Parker leave, Sophie calls Annie crying.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, take a breath. What’s the matter?”
“P-parker’s nd-ndever g-goindg to l-love mbe,” Sophie wails, tears streaming down her face.
“What are you talking about?”
“He sh-showed up with his d-date-hha’kshhh! A-and she’s hhih…hhh…wonderful a-and beautiful-hhi’Kktsch! a-and he’s nd-ndever-Hhh’itschgnx! *Snff* goindg to w-wandt to d…hhhih…Hhih’nngt! S-sorry…Hh’ngXCH! Hh’nngtsh! *Snff* date mbe,” she sniffles, and then whimpers out a sad, stuffy, “I love himb.”
“Oh shit…bless you.”
“And he didnd’t evend combe whend he got off work…he cambe with his date, how embarrassindg is that?”
“Why the hell did he bring her?” Annie snaps, “he knows you like him, why would he bring his date? Is he dense?”
“He asked her to wait outside the door…she wandted to mbake sure we were alright.”
“…well that’s…I still hate her.”
Sophie sniffles, “I wandt to…but she’s so ndice.”
“How are you feeling? I hope better than you sound.”
“Umb…worse…a lot worse.”
“Shit…uh, well I’m stuck at work. I’ll be home as soon as I can, try not to die.”
*
“I hate him,” Annie spits, looking down at Sophie, who’s curled up next to her with her head on Annie’s lap. She’s still in tears, and Annie is so furious, she’s seeing red.
How dare he?
“I d-dond’t,” Sophie whimpers, choking back another sob. “I love himb…why do I love himb?”
“I don’t know…love is…weird,” Annie sighs, petting Sophie’s hair. “How are you feeling besides this?”
“*snff* Like shit…I’mb exhausted.”
“Have you gotten much sleep today?”
“Ndo…I think I got two hours?”
“Shit. Want some NyQuil?”
“I dond’t kndow.”
“Well, you need sleep. I’m going to get you some. Go to bed, I’ll be in in a minute.”
Annie is in the kitchen getting Sophie some medicine when there’s a knock on the door.
She goes to open it, and is immediately filled with rage when she comes face-to-face with Parker.
“What the hell do you want?”
He takes a step back, surprise crossing his face, “uh-“
“-how could you? How could you do that to her?!” Annie demands, trying and failing to keep her voice down, “you knew how much she likes you, and you brought your date to our dorm?”
“Annie, I-“
“-I’m not finished,” Annie snaps, glowering at him. Parker immediately shuts his mouth and swallows hard. “She’s sick, too. Do you know how upset she is? Do you know how much this killed her?! I just spent the last hour and a half consoling her.”
“Shit…I um-”
“-She called me crying, Parker.”
“Dammit,” he hisses, “I told Ava to wait outside.”
“You should have stopped by before picking her up! You should have thought this through better, because that was a real shitty thing to do.”
“I know…I know…I just…can I see her?”
“Nope, you can leave.”
“Annie-“
“She’s sick and emotional and sleep deprived.”
“But-“
“-Sophie is the best person I know. She’s my favorite person in the entire world, and she deserves a lot more than crying in my lap over some stupid guy, alright? She’s my best friend, I don’t want to see her hurting.”
“I get that, but-“
“-Bye,” Annie says, slamming the door in his face.
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she walks back to the kitchen to snag the medicine before disappearing into Sophie’s bedroom.
#OCs#sneezing#coughing#fever#sick!fic#parker#sophie#annie#ava#my parker/sophie fics always take me ten years to write#as usual feedback is appreciated#Annie will kill a man to protect her friends#she will fight you#she doesn’t play
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Alesis ION and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.
Right. Had a sudden visit from Mr Migraine from about midnight last night so no work today for yours truly, or falsely, what in this day and age of fake news and fake presidunces and all that fucking asshattery. Anyway...
So I thought since I had the time, FINALLY, I’d take care of some minor problems that still remain on the ION. First, the tact switches in the Part section were starting to get stubborn so I thought I’d swap em out for new ones. Taking apart an ION is always an adventure thanks to the puzzle-like way they designed the case, mainly where the top and bottom come together along the back side, and also how you have to carefully raise and slide the top up and out forwards to keep the bottom front edge there from catching on the bottoms of the keys and snapping them off. If this sounds like someone talking from experience, well, yeah so I snapped three of the fucking things off. But when I glued them back I saw that whoever had fiddled around inside the thing before I owned it had also snapped one off, so there. And now, on with the Action Photos!
Here we see, through a big fat magnifying glass on a gooseneck that I use, the wonderful and rewarding process of de-soldering using Hakko Desoldering Wick. Pain in the ass, but done carefully and patiently you can get all eight of these bastards outta there in about twenty minutes.
In the above photo you will find fine examples of new tact switches made by Omron. The more keen-eyed of you out there will notice that they are not the blue-colored deals that Alesis went with originally. Couldn’t find those. I found yellow ones, and white ones too though, the only difference as far as I can tell being the force needed to actuate the switch and the tactile response (how ‘clicky’ the switch feels). I’m sure if I went through the trouble of Google-sleuthing data sheets for these I could find the exact details about what the colors designate but AIN’T NOBODY GOT TIME FO’ DAT!
One issue that has been bugging me in the back of my mind for about a year or two now is a result of a mishap that happened when I first got this ION. It had a load of issues that needed to be dealt with in order to be able to just use the thing. (You can find a post about that here someplace). When I first opened the case up to begin the lengthy process of Doing What Needed To Be Done, I inadvertently yanked the LCD ribbon cable outta the socket on the side where it plugs into the main PCB, half destroying that end of the cable in the process. The problem here is twofold: first, the cable is WAY too short, and second, you need to be really careful when opening up an ION. Anyway, I ordered a replacement ribbon cable that was about 20cm longer than the shortish factory one (DIGI-KEY part no. HF18U-18-ND, cable ffc 18pos 1.00mm 18″), and it’s been sitting on a shelf for about a year now I guess? Lazy fucker. Oh shit, I just looked at the package and it says the order date was Jan 30 2018! HAHAHA!!! Goddam lazy lima bean. Anyway so in the photo above, you can see I’ve desoldered and cleaned up the pads on the backside of the LCD board where the cable gets soldered. Yeah, soldered. Usually these kinds of ribbon cable (or flex cable? I dunno what the fuck they’re called) plug in to sockets on both sides of the cable. But oh no, that would make things too easy! BUT, I do see why they did it this way. There’s a plastic housing that the LCD unit itself snaps into, and the housing gets screwed down to the underside of the front panel. So to save space, instead of having a fat socket jutting out, they went with the solder option. Fuck.
I had a real BLAST dealing with this. First I thought I’d just cut away the plastic and expose the flat metal wires, but that turned out to be super slow and I ran the risk of accidentally cutting off one of the wires so I didn’t wanna do that, really. I was sitting there thinking “If only there was a way to melt the plastic straight off the wiring, like slide it right off like butter or something.” Well. I had a soldering iron sitting right next to me. Hmmmm. You can see where this is going I imagine. I taped the ribbon down to a small piece of spare plywood I have, then just scraped the plastic off with the soldering iron, slowly and carefully, wiping the iron off every time. I was done in a minute or two. Then I had a peep through a loupe at the exposed ends and saw a bit of plastic residue, so I carefully sanded that off. Next was the nerve-racking process of soldering the shit together. My hands shake like a sack of pissed off rattlesnakes anymore, so it was super slow and steady going, two-handed grip on the soldering iron, careful, careful work. But in the end, success!
There are still a handful of switches that are starting to be stubborn and could be replaced, but I’d had enough already and decided to just put the thing back together and call it a day and then have lunch and write this so there you go.
Nothing is impossible if you take your time, calm down, and think things through. A hefty bit of MacGyvering doesn’t hurt either.
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