#And then borderline ran the last two hours of it

[tiralja]

very saddened to report that heavy exercise does in fact make you feel better and should probably be done mor woften than once in a blue moon.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Saw the post of you asking if we had any tropes or ideas we wanted to see u talk abt and jumped for joy 🙏 … must ask . Do u have any thoughts on ghost finding out reader is pregnant 😋😋

I like to think Ghost starts having suspicions before you do

Wrapped around each other’s bodies, limbs tangled in the sheets as you sleep peacefully with your other half by your side, he’s never not holding at least one of your boobs in his warm calloused palms. You start to wake up with complaints about how sore they are however, his hands in complete agreement with his eyes; your tits have gotten bigger.

And though he hates to see how uncomfortable they have you feeling all of a sudden, and how you whine so cutely about how you need new bras, your cleavage spilling out of your cups, he’s finding it rather difficult not to appreciate the new view.

Next though, he’s noticing how strange it is that foods you usually loved, now have you crinkling your nose up in disgust, turning your face away from the smell, or worse, that one time you ran to the bathroom to spill the contents of your stomach, utterly repulsed by a certain odor.

But he forgets that you haven’t requested Chinese food in nearly a month when instead he’s trying to wrap his mind around how you want peanut butter and jelly on a cheeseburger.

He certainly doesn’t think twice about how you’re just tad bit friskier than usual, pinching his ass and trying to jump his bones more often. There’s never been a lack of intimacy or wanting the other in your relationship, but you seem nearly insatiable recently, using and abusing his fingers, his mouth, his dick, multiple times a day. There are no complaints on his end, your man always being borderline desperate for you.

It’s when he’s been away for work for the last two weeks and he’s walking back into the house and he sees you, that his eyes cannot deny the way you’re simply glowing. Radiating effortless beauty in a way he’s never seen before, which is saying a lot considering you knock the breath out of him every time he’s lucky enough to see even just your shadow.

You look so soft, so sweet, so perfectly his.

He’s searching for a cloth to warm up under the faucet, preparing to clean up the mess he’s just made of you in bed over the last few hours, when his eyes land on the unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. His mind starts quickly doing the math, believing that in theory you should have had to open this pack by now, when things begin to click for him.

Laying naked on your back atop the messy sheets, still catching your breath and coming back down to earth after the many times Simon brought you to bliss tonight, you’re admittedly confused when he comes back into the bedroom without the towel he said he was going to get. You’re even more caught off guard when he approaches you and lays two hands on the sides of your stomach, face approaching your abdomen with an expression of concentration on his face.

“Si what are you-”

“Love, I think you’re pregnant.”

He’s lucky you’ve been having the same suspicion for a few days now, waiting for him to take an actual test and find out, otherwise you might be smacking him upside the head right about now.

Once you do take the test however and confirm what he already felt sure of, that he had put a baby in you, he’s asking you why it isn’t appropriate to tape it to the living room wall for everyone to see, elated to share the news with those in your lives, meanwhile you’ve just decided he won’t be helping decorate the nursery, beyond building furniture.

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐋. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him with a raised eyebrow while your lips quirk up into a smile.

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: hazbin hotel | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lucifer morningstar/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 2.57k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, dom reader, dom fem reader, sub lucifer, bottom lucifer, manipulative reader ( i have awoken an obsession in writing them i’m afraid ), reader is longtime friends with alastor, mentions of alastor, reader is ‘the seamstress’ overlord, lucifer crawls across the floor like once? maybe twice, oral ( fem receiving ), begging, brief master kink, whining, some degradation, praise kink, lucifer is 100% being a Good Boy, leg humping, self-inflicted overstimulation, and he WHIMPERS, crying, lucifer’s just a needy lil guy tbh.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: i have fallen into a rabbit hole </3 | 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃!— @mrskreideprinz. @p-ersus. @herohibiscus. @vampcubus.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Breathy whines and whimpers echo through the dimly lit room, the flickering flame of candles catching on the deep red wine in the glass you’re holding with your non-dominant hand. The other is currently being lavished with needy, borderline worshipful kisses, your wrist tightly gripped by the man you’d had wrapped around your pinkie finger for the last five or so years. After being abandoned by his beloved wife and his sweet little daughter, he had been a mess — a mess a long-standing overlord like yourself had been quick to clean up and turn into something else, something more. Playing the concerned friend with ‘hidden feelings’ had been more than easy ( whether or not those falsified feelings had festered into something real was for you to know, and for you to know only ), and you’d had him eating out of your hand faster than even you had expected. After only two years he’d removed Lilith’s ring, and a month after that he’d begged for yours, which of course you’d accepted. You’d helped run the kingdom in his name ever since while he lavished you with attention and tended to his silly little hobbies. Your empire had expanded from a simple series of shops in every Ring that clothed the upper class to a behind-the-scenes Queen of the nation; typically you’d have celebrated with your oldest friend, but he’d disappeared after a tie-up with the Media Demon, and you’d not heard from or of him since. Briefly you’d worried he’d succumbed to his injuries, but then waved them away; little could injure Alastor, and no mobilized television screen would be able to kill him. Once he needed your services as his only tailor again he’d return, and you could demand and receive answers from him then. Until that time, your time was split between all of Hell, the whims of Rosie, and of course the dim-witted desperate King you called your own. 

Alastor would be proud, if not envious, of the web you’d weaved across Pride, if you did say so yourself. 

With one leg you push Lucifer away, planting the ball of one of your feet against his bare chest and making him fall back onto his calves, kneeling before you just as he belonged. He whines at the loss of skin contact when you withdraw your foot, but you ignore him, pondering; honestly he’d been far too easy to shape, so much so that it was almost disappointing at first, but his resolve and desperation to please had been more than entertaining. Every moment he kept by your side made your power grow, and considering the abandonment issues that ran rampant like poison beneath his skin, eating away at his brain and filling him with anxiety, that meant you were never alone for more than a few hours. If you weren’t steadily growing stronger, you’d have questioned if the clinginess were at all worth it. 

“Please — Please, let me… Please…” The soft whimpers from the floor in front of you catch your attention instantly, and you gaze down at the mess of a man before you. His hair — typically so well-managed — hangs messily over his eyes, and his wings flare out behind him, the massive feathered limbs twitching every now and then as he holds himself back from touching you without permission; the kissing had been reward enough for the necklace he’d surprised you with at breakfast, even if he wanted more. To get more, he had to earn it. 

“Do you know any words other than ‘please’?” you ask, amused by the sight of the puddle of an angel before you as well as his vastly shrunken vocabulary. He’s on his knees before you, eyes wanting and voice thick as he begs, and it does nothing but feed the raging warmth in your lower abdomen. In control though you may be, the King of Hell would get what he wanted before the night was through; after all, how could you deny someone who was being such a good boy?

“I know whatever words you want me to say,” he promises in a whine, “What do you want me to say? To ask? I’ll do it, I promise.” You know he will; when has he ever not done what you ask? Never. 

“You’ll be good?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you sip your wine, and he whimpers and nods, hands fisting and unfisting around nothing as he continues fighting the urges to grip at you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. You fight off the urge to laugh; he was just so pathetic, you couldn’t help but feel fond of him. There was just something about sorry men on their knees that did it for you every time, and the King of Hell was no exception.

“S-So good,” he moans shakily, his pupils dilating as you crook a finger in his direction as the smallest invitation. He crawls on all fours closer to you before leaning his head against the warm skin of the inside of your thigh, nuzzling against you before hiding his eyes against it. “I will, I — I…” Fuck, he couldn’t even think — exactly how you liked him. His breathing is picking up, getting heavier than before — he’s getting all worked up, and you haven’t even properly touched him yet. 

You cross your legs tightly, displacing him, and a questioning noise falls from his lips. “Mmm… Ask me for permission,” you purr, and you watch his pupils slowly dilate and his eyes fill with a fresh surge of want. 

“F-Fuck, okay — C-Can I? Please, can I?” he asks, a pleading tone in his voice that has you clenching around nothing. 

“Can you what?” you ask, turning to study your fingernails lazily after taking your last drink of wine, putting the glass on the table next to where you were sitting. He lets out a noise of complaint, demanding your attention be put back on him, and you acquiesce easily; you could certainly give in to one or two of his requests, wordless or otherwise, considering he’d be begging to bury himself in your cunt before the night was out. 

He trembles, barely holding himself back from descending upon you like a starved man would a meal. “Can I touch you? I want to taste you, wanna make you feel good, please—“

You narrow your eyes and fight off the smile making the corners of your lips twitch; you can’t smile yet, it would ruin all the fun. “Who are you asking, Lucifer?” 

“Fuck. Fuck. Master, I’m-!” he whimpers, and you raise an eyebrow in silence, watching as he bites down hard on his bottom lip before asking, “Please, Master, can I lick your pussy?”

Your heartbeat quickens. “Hmmm…” you squint slowly at him, as if pondering the thought for the sole sake of teasing him, and he plants a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee before looking up at you, asking silently for the permission he felt he needed. 

“Please?” he begs again, and you smile finally, watching the way his ruby eyes light up with barely-contained excitement. 

“It’s alright with me,” you purr softly, uncrossing and spreading your legs for him. He lunges forward, curling his forearms under the backs of your thighs and burying his face in your cunt immediately. He’s sloppy as he eats you out, drooling from the taste and excitement, and you sigh happily as you relax into the couch cushions. The man was ever-so-talented with his tongue, you’d discovered years ago, and his favorite hobby was to lie between your legs as often and long as you would let him — and oh, would you let him. All he wanted to do was please you, to ensure your comfort and make sure you never wanted to leave him, and a while your pity for him turned into a soft fondness that urged you to acquiesce to some of his more romanticized fancies, which was why the two of you had had a lovely dinner tonight before you’d led him by his red tie to your shared bedroom. 

“Fuck,” you groan, letting your head fall back at the same time as you close your eyes and bury your free hand in his feather-soft hair, drawing him deeper into your core and coaxing a moan from him at the sensation of his hair being pulled a little. “That’s it, sweet boy — more tongue, just a little more… What a good boy you are…” 

Your hips roll up into his learned tongue at the same time that you catch your own bottom lip between your teeth and grab at one of your breasts lazily, kneading it in time with each swirl of his tongue against you. A shaky string of words into your cunt that you faintly recognize as whiny pleas for you to love him and stay with him forever only stimulate you more, the vibrations making your hips jump up. A small bump against your leg goes ignored the first time, as well as the second, but the third catches your attention and you open your eyes and look down to see him grinding against your leg like a dog. Bullying him crosses your mind, and you are nothing but a slave to your own whims in the bedroom, so you do. 

“What a pathetic fucking man!” you laugh, startling him out of his focus on your cunt and cumming against your leg, and he blinks up at you with wide eyes. He never stops lapping at your cunt, and you scoff meanly. “Humping my leg like some mutt, how unfitting of a king. You’re so desperate to get off that you can’t even wait for the opportunity to use my cunt like a real man — but at least you’re good with your tongue, aren’t you?”

Lucifer whines out a moan into you as he nods an affirmative, and you laugh again, this time more breathily. “You like that, don’t you?” you ask mockingly, tugging at his messy hair just enough for it to sting a little. He whimpers into your core, looking up at you through tear-filled eyes. “The mockery, the harsh words, me being mean — and the praise. Can’t make up your mind on what you want more can you?” A shrill whine is your only response as he nips at your swollen clit, and your hips buck up into his face as you moan, “Mmm, you just want to get cunt-drunk, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh!” he agrees, thrusting hard against you and lapping up every drop of slick you had to offer him. He was talented when it came to slipping back and forth between focusing on smothering your clit with attention and dipping his tongue into your wanting hole, and it took all your inner strength not to lose face and wrap your thighs around his head. 

“Please,” he says, voice slurred with desire, “Please, more — Love more, let me have more, I want more-!”

“More?” you ask mockingly, clenching around nothing as his long tongue circles your clit, and he moans into you desperately enough that the vibrations nearly force a whimper of your own from you lips.  “G-Go ahead and ride my leg,” you say shakily, grinning down at him patronizingly as he immediately starts grinding down on you hard. “And cum whenever you want — after all, you’re just my dumb little pussy-whipped pretty boy~”

He lets out a shrill cry, thrusting against your leg hard as he bites and sucks at your cunt and cums all over your calf, moaning and crying with tears running down his face. Shrill cries fall from your lips as you stop bothering to hold them back; he was already getting sloppy in the ways you liked him best, him hearing you call out for him would only further your shared desire. 

“What do we say?” you ask, keening as he sucks at you greedily, and he lets out a stilted cry of his own. 

“Thank you!” he gasps, continuing to roll his cock against you and hiccuping through tears at the overstimulation he’s forcing upon himself as smaller spurts of cum rush from his cock and coat your skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you..!”

“Good boy,” you murmur, moving your hand from his hair to gently caress his face, and he lets out a shaky sob as he nuzzles into your hand. You lay your head back, content to doze as he comes down from his own particular high while clinging to you. 

“Love you,” he whispers quietly, and you hum softly back at him in response, wordlessly sharing the feeling. “So much. So, so much, more than anyone…” You let him babble mindlessly, knowing how fond he was of doing so, and listen in silence while watching him with a deep fondness sparkling in your eyes. After about a half hour or so he slows his chatter to a stop, beginning to play with your fingers and nibble at his lips, clearly wanting something. 

“What is it, Lucifer?” you ask lazily, petting his head gently, and he lets out wordless whine that makes you raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

He’s quiet for a moment, for some reason unsure of himself, before he finally voices his desire. “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him smugly while your lips quirk up into a smile. 

“More?” you ask mockingly, then scoff and cross your legs, cutting him off from what he desired most, a surprised unintentional chirp falling from his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know if you deserve it…” And so begin the waterworks.

Lucifer bursts into tears, overstimulated and wanting and needy, all while being denied of the only thing he wants. He was a man lost in a vast desert and you were the small spring he stumbled upon after days — after tasting you the first time all those years ago, once in a night was never enough. You’re just being mean to bully him like you always do now, and he knows it. 

Your cum glistens on his lips and chin, and his tongue darts out to lick it up without thinking, sending a surge of heat rushing through your core. “But — But I was good!” he argues shakily through his tears, “Please, I just want — want to make you feel good, ‘nd I wanna feel good too…”

You gaze down at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on it harshly to ground yourself; God, he’s fucking cute. So needy and desperate, his face coated in your cum… 

You smile and spread your legs again, fighting off the urge to laugh at the way his feathers fluff up and he starts trembling in excitement. He’s always been an insatiable little thing, and you should have known better than to start to doze off after he’d achieved just his first orgasm — besides, you can handle him! This was your King after all, and you know him like you know your own mind. What’s a half dozen or more orgasms before the night is out? You could always sleep past noon if you really wanted, and it wasn’t as if he’d be leaving you anytime soon. 

“Then go ahead, Your Majesty,” you purr softly, watching the way his pupils nearly swallow up his irises entirely at the rumble in your voice. “I’m all yours.”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[waaayoutofline]

Murder On The Dancefloor (part 1)

(from the When the Cat and the Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance series) | Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natasha

Summary: Natasha isn’t having the best of luck in trying to bring one of the ex Hydras general down. You however may be able to assist her. Will you two be able to cooperate? Or is it your fate to always stand on opposite teams?

Warnings: None in this chapter.

WORD COUNT: 2510 (give or take)

A/N: Hello!! So, this is heavily inspired by the song Murder on the Dance Floor (duh). I think it really suits the dynamic between Agent Natasha and Vigilante!Reader, and I thought, okay, let’s actually write it instead of just thinking about it and eventually forgetting. There are a few changes from the canon universe. In this AU, the Avengers didn’t separate after the Sokovia Accords (I’m a child of divorce, okay), so they’re a real family here. Peter is also part of the team and was never forgotten by every single human except, well Hulk (he deserves better). Natasha is alive and well, along with Yelena.And finally (last thing, I promise), this will be part of a mini-series. Maybe with three parts.That’s about it. Enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)

//

It was too late to do this. Natasha rubbed off the tiredness of her eyes for what must be the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. This was getting ridiculous.

”…What if-“

“For the last Yelena, we are not committing arson.” The blonde grunted at the quick dismissal, sliding down the synthetic, black leather chair. Crossing her arms with a tired pout, she didnt look much to different from the six year old girl Natahsa remembered. The clock in the conference room is getting more obnoxious by the second, as if teasing them to not having an answer yet.

Across the room, the sulked eyes of Benjamin Horvat were looking right back at her. His picture was poorly pinned, hanging unconventionally by a small blade (courtesy of Yelena) on the board. Steve wont be happy when he sees it.

”It would be a small one! It wouldn’t be that hard, just some small fires around some of his clubs, see if there is any luck and make him come out. Quick and subtle.”

”There is nothing subtle in that plan Yelena.” Natahsa turns down again dryly.

It’s been six hours since Yelena payed a visit to the renovated compound, bringing her 5 month old puppy Fanny (which is currently being spoiled by Wanda and Peter). She came in with new dirt onto a possible Hydra ex-officer, one of a depressing long list that the team has yet to tackle down. Most of them ran when SHIELD fell down.

The two of them plus Steve and Bucky, managed to get intel on Benjamin’s Horvat. He was currently involved is some kind of shady precious gem business, along owning some expensive clubs that served as covers for the mafia. At first glance, you’d say that he was just another second class criminal. But that as far as aparences went. Because people like him were worth something, he was heavily guarded.

His intel was precious enough to make him valuable and well-protected. Access to him seemed almost impossible.

The worst part was that he didn’t even bother using conventional transport. Even after combing through all national surveillance, he didn’t appear on any of the cameras. Not even Redwing, Sam’s beloved drone, had managed to get a clear visual of him. It was almost as if he’d gone underground (which he hadn’t—Natasha checked). And despite his love for nightlife, the clubs he owned and frequented were highly exclusive, each with multiple layers of security clearance.

After a long evening, both Steve and Bucky called it a night, but the two sisters were too stubborn to let it go. They were both running out of ideas—or, in Yelena’s case, running through a list of increasingly dangerous, borderline illegal suggestions. Eventually, exhaustion began to take over, and the blonde started dozing off, her head slipping forward as sleep crept up on her. Natasha wasn’t far behind, her eyelids drooping as the hours dragged on.

But then—a sharp, static crackle echoed through the speakers, jolting both women awake. Instinctively, they snapped into defensive stances, eyes darting to the screens around the room as they flickered in a disorienting pattern of black and white, struggling to stabilize.

Finally, the screens gave a clear image, revealing a shadowy figure cloaked in darkness.

“Night, ladies! Glad to see you’re still awake,” a teasing, lilting voice echoed through the speakers. “Huh, take out from Luigi’s huh? Their pizza rolls are to die for.”

Natasha’s eyes widened, a flicker of recognition sparking across her face. Her posture shifted, shoulders squaring as an unconscious surge of energy overtook her weariness. It can’t be.

“I’d prefer pizza bites. Who are you?” Yelena asked, mirroring Natasha as she stood up. She’d clearly sensed the change in Natasha’s demeanor.

The redhead grabbed the tablet on the table next to her, attempting to trace the breach, but the system was completely overridden. Whoever this was shouldn’t have been able to slip past their security. She called for FRIDAY, but the AI didn’t respond.

“Aw, come on, not even a hello? Do you know how long I spent trying to surpass that stupid robot of yours?” the voice continued playfully. “It’s been a while, Natty. I thought you’d be glad to see me—or, well, hear me.”

Natasha’s face remained painfully stoic, but her white-knuckled grip on the tablet betrayed her turmoil. She knew this person loved theatrics, but even for them, this was going too far. “How many times have I told you not to call me that.” Natasha grunts in annoyance, a headache already starting to set in. There is a brief silence. She can practically see your pout from here.

“Geez, so grumpy.”

Yelena watches the exchange with curiosity, somehow not detecting a real threat. “I sense some... history here.”

“There is!”

“There is not!”

Both women snapped at Yelena, making her eyes widen as she instinctively stepped back, lifting her hands in mock surrender. “Ha, when you say that, it usually means there is…” she stated, amused.But the sentence died under Natasha’s withering stare. “Alright, just an observation. Geez, you are grumpy.” she muttered under her breath. Catching Natasha’s warning look, Yelena slid back into the chair, still grinning despite herself.

“Can we focus?” Natasha said, voice clipped.

Yelena just shrugged, casting a glance between the two of you.

“Oh, come on, don’t get shy on me, Agent Romanoff. Is it because we haven’t had our little “I run, you go after me” sessions recently?” You teased. “I promise, you’re the only one I let chase after me.”

It’s true that its been a while since you have gone under the radar. Even if you weren’t out committing your little revendouz vigilantes acts, Natasha still couldn’t help to keep an eye out for you. It wouldn’t be the first time that you took a mini sabbatical and returned with more messes for her to clean up.

Finally, from the shadows, a woman stepped a young woman, posture relaxed, radiating an air of practiced confidence. You wore your typical casual clothes, a fitted jacket and a crop under it. Your face was partially obscured by the lighting, but Natasha could see a few loose strands of hair escaping, catching faintly in the room’s dim light. Chest rising up and down rather fastly. It’s like you just returned from somewhere.

Your eyes, bright yet focused, lingered on Natasha with an amused glint. The faintest smirk played at the corner of your mouth, an expression that made Natasha feel strangely restless. There was something in that permanent look of yours that always kept her on edge.

“Who are you?” Yelena blurted out.

You gasped dramatically, resting a hand on your chest as if genuinely wounded. “Why, you hurt me, Agent! Didn’t you tell her anything about me? And here I was, starting to think that I meant something to you.”

Natasha sighed in exasperation, her gaze still scanning for any sign of how you managed to break in. But it was as if you’d been authorized from the inside. She knew you were good, hidden behind that playful demeanor, but it was exhausting how you always seemed one step ahead. “There’s nothing to tell,” Natasha replied curtly, “besides the fact that you’re a pain.”

You huffed in false offender , crossing your arms. “Archenemies would have sufficed. Besides, that is no way to greet someone who can help you with Horvat.”

Both of them froze at the name. Giving up, the redhead throws the device on the table, getting slightly closer to the TV and crossing her arms. If this was going where she thought it was, caution was very much need. Especially with you.

“A little…birdie, told me that we have, for once, a common enemy. Excluding each other of course.” You smiled at the last sentence, but your eyes were bright with a dangerous spark.

“He’s not as unreachable as you may think. I guess that by now you have figured that he frequents the nightclubs in the Lower East Side. He is supposed to assist to an event tomorrow at night. Just our luck, right?”

Natasha’s brows furrowed. “Our? What, exactly, do you want with Horvat? Did he make it onto your little blacklist?” She scowled, still irritated by the last man you’d managed to eliminate right under her nose.

As if reading her thoughts, you let out a light, teasing laugh. “Ah, well, I wouldn’t exactly call it little,” you said, an amused glint in your eye.

Natasha huffed under her breath, visibly displeased with your evasiveness. “What’s in it for you?”

Your smile faded just slightly, and for a moment, a flicker of real purpose showed through the facade. “Let’s just say he has something I need. Something personal.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion unwavering. “And how in the world would you ever entertain the thought of me agreeing to work together?”

“Because you’re stuck,” you shot back, your voice sharper than usual. “Let’s be real, Romanoff—if I could do this alone, I wouldn’t be here. But not even you can’t get to him on your own. And…neither can I.” You admitted through your teeth. The playful glint softened, replaced by an intensity Natasha hadn’t quite seen from you before.

“I need someone who won’t mess it up if I’m going to get to him,” you continued, the amused mask slipping just a bit more. “That’s where you come in. I mean, who better to handle some undercover work than the Black Widow herself?” The slight provocation didn’t go unnoticed, but Natasha’s mind was already racing with possibilities.

The room fell into silence, the ticking clock on the wall seeming louder than ever as Natasha’s eyes bore into yours, as if trying to see every hidden motive. Perhaps she should just go fetch Wanda. Still, she held herself steady, determined to avoid letting any trace of intrigue slip. It only took a spark for you to create a fire.

Yelena, sensing the tension between the two of you growing sharper by the second, finally cut in, a note of exasperation in her voice. “So… how could you get us in—”

“Yelena, no.” Natasha cut her off sharply, her posture rigid and unyielding. “We are not entertaining this. And I’m certainly not working with her,” she added, the cold in her tone unmistakable. She turned her gaze back to you, her expression filled with deep distrust. “She does nothing but trick and deceive, and I’m not about to let her pull us into a mess.”

You held her gaze steadily, a flicker of hurt passing through your eyes—brief enough for Natasha to notice. She shook her head sturborling, she couldn’t afford to feel any remorse for you. But as quickly as the emotion came, it vanished, and you rolled your eyes playfully. That was something that sparked Natasha’s curiosity. Just like herself in the past (maybe still now at times) it seemed as if you had a mask. She didn’t know exactly how genuine that unserious facade, the one you always seemed to hide behind, truly was.

“So distrustful and uptight as always, I see. Tell me, has she always been this way?” you asked, looking at the blonde. Yelena shrugged, starting to answer but clamping her mouth shut as Natasha arched an eyebrow in warning.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about this either. But it’s the only way. Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think so,” you said, your tone uncharacteristically steady. “I’ll even compromise and act like one of your ‘goody-two-shoes’ heroes.” You almost gagged on the words. “Swear I’ll play by your rules, as long as it gets us to him. If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I don’t lie. Have I ever lied to you, Natasha?”

There was no mockery in your voice this time, just an unexpected sincerity. Natasha paused, caught off guard. Had you deceived her? Absolutely. Tricked her? Too many times to count, wounding her pride each time. But lied, outright and blankly, right to her face? As shocking as it was, she couldn’t recall a single instance. No matter the game, you’d always been blunt about what you were going to do.

Yelena, noticing Natasha’s hesitation, leaned in. “сестра (sister), maybe… maybe she has a point. We’re no closer to him on our own. And if she can get us in…”

Natasha looked at her, seeing the reason in her words, though every fiber of her instinct fought against trusting you. After a long pause, she rubbed her temples, exhaling heavily. As sad as it was, there wasn’t any better option. But to admit that she had no other option than to work with you, of all people, was burning her pride.

“Fine.”

Yelena gave a small fist pump of victory, relief lighting her face after the hours they’d spent trying to come up with a solid plan. Meanwhile, you grinned, satisfaction gleaming in your eyes.

“But—” Natasha cut in, fixing you with a hard look. “No tricks, no double-crossing. As you said before, do this by my rules, is that clear?”

You raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of your usual defiance flashing in your expression. “Well, I mean… it is my plan so technically—”

“My. Rules.” Natasha repeated, her voice dropping to a dangerously low tone that left little room for argument. Her stare bore into you, unyielding, and the confidence in your face faltered just a bit. “Understood?”

You swallowed, any spark of rebellion snuffed out under the intimidating weight of her gaze. “Understood,” you muttered, a hint of surprising, begrudging compliance in your tone.

“Oooh, scary mean glare,” Yelena muttered under her breath, clearly entertained as she watched you two bickering. A mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned back, curious to see how will play out between you two. Perhaps she should pay visits more often.

“Enlighten us, then. What in the world does this great plan, legal plan of yours involve?” Natasha inquires dryly. Another cheeky grin on your face was enough for her to know that she won't like it in the slightest. It was almost sinister, how much you enjoyed to push her bottons.

”Well…that answer can vary. How are your dance moves, Agent Romanoff?

Clearly baffled, she didnt have time to answer when someone blasted through the door, startling all three of you. “You! Are you the one you hacked FRIDAY?” demanded a frantic Tony Stark, dressed in Iron Man-themed pajamas, bags under his eyes and a steaming coffee pot in hand labeled “#1 Best Hero” (a gift from Peter). Honestly, Natahsa is a firm believer that he bought it himself but whatever.

You giggled almost manically. “Oops, that’s my cue! Talk to you later to get into details, Agent.” You practically purred, teasingly waving goodbye before cutting the connection in one swift motion. Natasha was met with her reflection on the now dark screen, your last words hanging heavily on the air.

Natasha drops on the chair heavily, grunting and rubbing her temples while looking at the roof in despair. How does she always end up in these situations?

[futterurl]

Hii do you do angsty smut? I’m craving angst & smut for Josh futturman . Love your first work here btw ❤️

tysm anon i fucking LOVE angst and smut mixed. literally two in one combo. i got u :b apologies if this wasnt what u were looking for!!

WARNINGS: angst, bleeding, pretty graphic, smut (mdni!), oral(f!receiving), p in v, creampie, afab reader

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you clutched your side, agony hitting every inch of your body. getting shot in your side wasn’t how you thought this mission was gonna go.

it was supposed to be simple: have everyone eat the Kronish balls, save the day, yada-yada. in and out. that wasn’t the case, however, when everyone who wasn’t borderline poisoned by the kronish balls turned out to be bionic.

josh wasn’t looking behind himself, not seeing a bionic creeping up to him at a quick pace with a knife in hand. you ran as fast as you could, trying to tell him to watch out.

you pushed josh out of the way, causing the bionic to stab you right in the side. the pain hit immediately, agonizing pain. you doubled over, wanting to remove the piece of steel. you knew this would only make it worse. you had to keep it in, at least until you were able to get somewhere safe.

“shit.” tiger panicked, seeing you on the ground, clutching your torso for dear life. you looked up at her with weak eyes, coughing up spurts of blood.

“gotta. got’ get help.” you tried to speak as hard as you could without exerting too much effort. she was able to pick you up and avoid the bionics, which wolf was going crazy with.

“guys! abort the mission. s’ in critical condition!” tiger yelled at josh and wolf, seeing their expressions drop as they saw her holding you, borderline limp in her arms. as they fended off the last of the bionics, they raced over to see you, crying and tired.

“fuck, fuck, this is my fault, fuck.” josh started talking at 100 miles an hour.

“this is nobody’s fault. someone get a goddamn car and bring us home.” wolf yelled. they all raced over to the car they took, tiger slamming on the gas the second you all piled in, josh now gently bringing you into the back.

“fuck, hurts s’ bad, fuck.” you grit through your teeth, hand bloody from holding onto your side. josh had propped you up against the car window. he kept his hand right on top of yours, whispering endless strands of “i’m sorry” and “this is my fault” through tears. this was the last thing he wanted to do, especially to the girl he loved, even if she didn’t know.

you were so selfless, you took a fucking knife to the torso for him. he owed you his fucking life, if you were okay after this, that is. he was gonna make sure you were okay. he clung onto your other hand and held onto it for dear life.

in just minutes, tiger was stopping the car in front of josh’s house. josh took you into his arms, racing up to his room, flat out ignoring his parents.

he laid you onto his bed, propping you up high with a good amount of pillows.

“i have a first aid kit in my bathroom. go get it. it’s in the cabinet.” he yelled at tiger and wolf. he couldn’t stay one second away from you. not like this.

wolf ran to get it, coming back in mere seconds. he had a wet rag. “we gotta take the knife out and put this over it immediately.” he panted.

“take my hand. this might hurt.” josh offered, holding out his hand to you, which you took into yours with ease.

“one, two, three”

tiger removed the knife, to which wolf covered you with the wet rag. you screamed and wailed as you crushed josh’s hand with yours. you had never experienced that amount of pain in your entire life.

“the worst is over. you did it.” tiger tried to ease your worries, offering you painkillers in the first aid kit wolf had brought.

“fuck. still hurts s’ fucking bad, fuck.” you silently cried. this felt like torture. you felt like you were going to puke.

“can you guys give us some privacy please? sorry, she’s overwhelmed and i know how to help her.” josh said, looking at tiger and wolf. “can you guys go talk to my parents? tell them we’re all good?”

they got the signal. they quickly left and shut the door behind them.

josh looked at you. “fuck, i’m so sorry. this is all my fault. i didn’t want you to get hurt like this, i’m so sorry…” he started to tear up.

you caressed his face. “it’s okay, josh. it wasn’t your fault, nothing you could’ve done. i’m still alive, aren’t i?”

“i know, but it shouldn’t be you with the fucking knife in your side.” he replied. he was really worried about you, his heart racing. he didn’t want you to be hurt. at all. he’d gladly take a knife for you for this to be overwith. for you to not be in any more pain.

“it’s okay, really. i jumped in.” you yawned, starting to get tired.

“okay, okay.” he wasn’t gonna argue with you anymore. “is there anything i can do for you?”

you squeezed his hand. “go to sleep with me for awhile?” you asked in a hushed tone.

nothing would’ve made him happier. he couldn’t be away from you, not now, not ever. he wanted to make sure that you’d be safe. with him. in his arms.

“of course. i..i’ll stay here with you. as long as you need.” he took a few pillows from under you, letting you lay down, he laying down next to you. you cuddled up to him a bit, making him blush. thank god the light was dimmed low.

“thank you…” you drifted off as you muttered those words. josh looked down at you, watching you fall into a deep sleep. he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. even after dying, you still looked so fucking perfect. how?

why would you take a knife for me? he asked himself, over and over. i hate seeing you like this.

the last thing he wanted to do was to see you in pain, and now he saw you in pure agony, on his behalf. he felt lime such a shitty person. the least he could do is lay with you.

he wouldn’t admit that was what he secretly wanted all along. he caressed your cheek before laying his head down, joining you in a peaceful slumber.

.

.

.

you spent the next couple days attached to josh like you two were conjoined at the hip. he was constantly there for your every need, whether that be for water, food, painkillers, anything.

you were healing up nicely. sure, you were still in pain, but it was significantly less than what it originally was. having josh by your side helped a lot.

you two were laying in his bed, when the painkillers sort of wore off. you winced.

“you okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“yeah, just hurts a bit.” you responded.

“you need anything? i can get it.” he offered.

“no, josh, really, it’s fine.” josh had been there for you at your every need, you were starting to feel bad. it felt like he was being a servant for you.

“i don’t want you to be in pain though.” he looked lost in thought. it looked like he wanted to say something.

“is there something on your mind, josh?” you asked.

“uh..uh, kind of. you ever have something on your mind but you don’t wanna say it because you don’t know if it’ll ruin something but you really don’t know what reaction you’ll get-” he started to talk faster and faster as he talked more and more.

“josh, we’ve known each other for what, how many years? we’ve talked about anything and everything. you can talk to me.” you propped yourself up to look at him.

he looked nervous. well, he always looked nervous. this time, however, he looked super nervous. something was on his mind.

"i was just gonna say, um, that, uh, i know a way to make you feel better...but, uh, it's kinda weird...yeah." he started stammering over his words.

"what is it, josh?" you asked. did he just bite his lip?

"i...i could make you...y'know..." he looked from your face down to your body, back up to you.

"make me what?" your heart started beating ever so slightly faster. might he be alluding to...?

"i...i could make you...make you cum. i know it's not a painkiller or anything, but it might take your mind off stuff. it's stupid, i..i should stop talking now. i shouldn't have said that. it's stupid. i'm sorry-"

you cut him off by putting your hand gently under his jaw and kissing him passionately. you started to grasp at his hair, holding it in fistfulls.

once your lips disconnected, you started breathing heavily. "josh, i'd love that. please. really." you never thought he'd ever ask you to do anything like this.

"really? am i dreaming?" he asked, rubbing your forearm gently.

"no. please, josh. make me feel good." you pleaded. now that the idea was out there, you were dead set on this. you didn't want anyone but him.

he got on top of you, starting to kiss your lips, your cheeks, your jawline, your neck. everything. it felt perfect. you could already feel your focus on your pain being subsided to this.

he lowered himself, settling in between your thighs, rubbing your hips. he held the ends of your shirt.

"can...can i see how it's doing first? just to check? don't wanna make it worse." he played with the hem of your shirt.

"yeah, yes. do it." you responded.

he lifted up your shirt to your ribcages, examining your bandages. it still looked pretty nasty, but it had certainly healed a lot since a few days ago.

"fuck...i'm still so, so sorry. i really am." he started to get a bit teary eyed while tenderly rubbing the skin by your bandages, careful to not get too close to where it would hurt.

"josh, really, it's okay. it happens. please. i don't want you to feel bad about this. it really is okay." you scratched at his hair.

"okay, okay...m'sorry. lemme make it up to you." he pressed a kiss to your stomach as he unzipped your shorts. he pulled them down slowly, not wanting to make your body jolt or be in any more pain that it was already in. he lost his breath, looking at you in just your shirt and panties. he still couldn't believe it.

"you...you okay?" you asked.

"y-yeah. i'm great. just...can't believe this is happening. you're so beautiful." he lay his head on one of your thighs, giving it a light kiss. that made you shudder. you didn't realize your thighs were that sensitive.

"thank you, thank you..." you started to mumble, becoming a bit nervous.

josh sensed your nerves. "you know, you don't have to let me do this, if you don't want me to. i know it's very up and personal."

"no, i really do, it's just...i'm just...nervous, is all. just...go slow please." you asked.

he played with the hems of your panties. "don't worry, i'll go as slow as you need." he pressed a kiss to your hip bones. "would you...would you mind if i took these off?"

"please. take them off." you were starting to get desperate.

he slowly eased them down your legs, getting a glimpse of your glistening pussy. he felt his eyes widen.

"can i...can i make you feel good?" he asked, pressing a kiss on your pubic bone.

"please, josh. want you to make me feel good so badly." you were practically begging at this point.

he lowered his head just a bit, propping himself truly inbetween your thighs, licking a stripe up your slit. you shuddered, new to the sensation. it felt weird, but in a good way.

"that feel okay?" he asked.

"yes, josh, for the love of god, please...more." you begged.

his tongue rested on your clit, rubbing it with the wet muscle. this sent shivers down your spine. it rubbed back and forth on the tiny area. you let out a moan, back starting to arch off the bed.

"shit...feels s'good josh, oh my god." you moaned, him drinking up your moans.

his lips attached themselves around your clit and just sucked. this sent all sorts of waves of pleasure through you. you pulled at his hair as he sucked at your clit. he ran his tongue in circles around the sensitive bud. had he ever done this before?

his tongue ran down your cunt, entering your tight hole with a moan from you. his thumb snuck up to your clit, not giving it a break as he rubbed tight circles around it.

"feels t' good, holy shit..." you were becoming putty in his hands as he tongue fucked you.

"you taste s' fucking good." he moaned into your pussy as his thumb became even faster around your clit, using your slick as lube. "love every part of you, fuck."

it didn't help that he was practically groaning into your cunt as he went down on you, letting out little whimpers and moans into you.

he heard you start to get louder and louder. he knew you were getting close to your release. his head went back up to your clit, giving it even more stimulation.

"josh...so close, oh my god..." your hips were starting to slightly buck up into his mouth.

"i know, pretty girl, not gonna stop until you cum down my fucking throat." he pleaded, urging you as he sopped at your clit, constantly hitting the bundle of nerves. your thighs got tighter around his head.

"i...oh my god...i think i'm gonna..." you started to pant hard, getting lost in the pleasure.

"c'mon. let it out. cum in my mouth. please. make me happy and cum on me. wanna make you feel so fucking good." he said in between licks.

one of them in particular make the tight band forming in your stomach snap, you finally getting that sweet, sweet release as you moan incoherent babbles to josh, as his tongue slowly eased at your cunt.

once you came down from your high, he started to rub little circles around your hips again. "you okay?" he asked.

"fuck...that was really fucking good, josh. oh my god." you panted as he peppered your stomach in kisses.

"good, m' glad." he rubbed the skin close to your bandage. "did i do anything to make it hurt any more?" he asked, worry etching on his eyebrows.

"no, it's all fine...i feel really good right now." you looked down at him, his face a mess of saliva and your slick. that was hot.

"good." he came up a little bit, you getting a peak at his erection standing through his pants.

"do you...do you want me to take care of that?" you asked, alluding to something more.

he caught his breath. "uh..are-are you sure? i know you just...y'know. you sure you want to?"

"please, josh. i want you to fuck me." you had never felt so desperate than you did right now. you needed him.

"i don't know if this is gonna hurt you. if it does, tell me and we're done." he said, getting out of his pants, his erection standing up in his boxers. your eyes widened. you couldn't believe he was going to be inside you.

"thank you josh, i will." you pulled him in to a kiss, your hand traveling down to his boxers, lightly gripping at his clothed cock. he let out a whimper.

"that feel good?" you asked.

"yes, fuck yes that felt good. but this is about you, not me. gonna make you feel good again. promise." he pulled away as he swiped down his boxers, freeing his girthy erection.

he positioned himself, sitting up on his knees, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder, alligning his cock with your dripping cunt. he ran his tip over your clit, you both shuddering.

"i..i'm gonna put it in now, okay?" he asked for permission, hands gently holding onto your hips, careful not to hurt you with the pressure. "i'll go slow, i promise."

"please." you whimpered.

he pressed it at your entrance, his tip slowly going inside you. he let out a shudder as he traced his thumbs back and forth on your thighs, trying to ease your nerves.

"fuck, oh my god. only have the tip in but it feels s' fucking good. you're so tight. fuck." he started to become a whimpering mess.

he slowly pushed his hips forward, entering you even more, at such a slow pace to make sure you weren't in any pain. sure, you had done this before, you told him, but it had been some time since. the last thing he wanted to do was make you hurt down there too.

"put the rest in josh, please." you whimpered.

he obliged, slowly bottoming out. all the sensations hit him at once: your tight, sopping cunt squeezing his cock. he knew he wouldn't last long.

"god, you're so tight, holy shit, feels so fucking good." he wailed, praising you as he caressed your hips. "you good?"

you nodded. you felt so full, it felt amazing. he looked at you with care and concern, like you were the only person in the world right then. it was perfect. he was doing all this for you.

"please start moving. feels good." you pleaded.

he nodded furiously, taking an experimental thrust into you, to which you both moaned out to. he was constantly letting out strings of "oh god" and "fuck" into the room as he started to grip your thigh.

he started to get into a motion, him pistoning in and out of you at a quick pace. your tight gummy walls pulled him in with every thrust, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

"oh my god, you feel so good. love this pussy so much, holy shit." he was practically worshipping you at this point as his hips drove into yours, you letting out moans in response.

one of his hands found itself at your cunt, his thumb starting to bully your clit in tight circles, you letting out a loud moan in response.

"josh, getting close, oh my god. fuck!" you pleaded for him. his thumb around your clit started to move even faster as his hips drove into you, hitting every spot.

"gonna cum soon, please cum with me." he pleaded in between moans, hips moving even faster. you broke down into a moaning mess as you felt another orgasm coming.

"you're so hot, holy shit. wanna fuck you like this forever. wanna get lost in this pussy. please. want you to come on my cock over and over again. shit." he let out rambles as he started to reach his peak.

these words let you to your second orgasm, your cunt becoming even tighter around his cock as you moaned as loud as possible, yelling his name. your cunt squeezing him made him come undone, cumming inside you.

he kept thrusting into you, riding out both of your highs, until you came down. he put your leg down, him slowly pulling out and laying down on you, being careful to not lay down on your bandage.

"that...that felt so good josh, oh my god." you started to play with his hair and rubbing his back.

"good. m' glad. i really wanted to make you feel good." his head lay on one of your breasts, paying attention to your breathing pattern.

"you..you really helped. i feel really good right now. thank you." you squeezed him into a hug.

he put one of his arms around you, enjoying the warmth of your body. "i'll always be here for you, i owe it to you. i'll stick bt your side, no matter what.

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a/n: womp womp sry if that was kinda mid (im a loser if u couldnt tell)

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.5K] smut, eddie's a little shit, bottom!steve if you squint and and impossible quest.

You were being cruel, you knew that. 

But good god, Steve looked so fucking pretty and it was so much fun. It started with a dare, a challenge, a joke among friends, a bet that was sealed with an almost kiss that had Steve hanging his head back and groaning two seconds in. 

‘Cause it was a Saturday night and you were on his lap in a booth at the diner, for no real reason other than you wanted to be close. There was plenty of room between your friends, Robin curled into the corner by the window, Nancy and Jonathan pressed into each other's sides and Eddie leaning lazy on across from you both. 

Milkshakes were half finished, stray fries and spilt ketchup on the table and Robin was rolling her eyes at you both when you abandoned your dinner for the sake of pressing your nose to Steve's cheek and whispering in his ear. He responded with a grin, a hand on your thigh that almost slipped indecently high for such a public setting and finally, your friends cracked and—

“Can you not keep your hands off each other for more than an hour?” Eddie asked. His question was blunt but his tone was good natured, filled with humour and Jonathan snorted. “We’re eating.”

“No,” Robin answered for you, “they can’t.”

“Leave them alone,” Nancy defended, smiling from behind the dessert menu. “It’s sweet.”

“It’s borderline pornographic,” Robin responded mildly. 

Eddie cackled. “If only, Hawkins is dull without the gates of hell opening up.”

Steve glared.

“Seriously though,” Eddie continued, brandishing a half eaten fry in you and Steve’s direction. “S’like you gotta be touching each other twenty four seven. You gonna keel over if you don’t have your hands on her, Harrington?”

Jonathan stretched out from where he was slouched against the leather booth, grinning at Eddie and ignoring his girlfriend's long suffering sighs. “I think he would, y’know,” he laughed. “Did he tell you about how he almost ran over Mrs Lafferty’s cat?”

Robin gasped, eyes wide as she leaned over your and Steve’s laps to gawk at Jonathan. 

“Mr Pebbles?”

The boy nodded, smile sly and Steve was groaning, swiping the hand that wasn’t on your leg over his eyes. He hated his friends. 

“Too busy groping each other in the front seat.”

Eddie hollered and you turned, cheeks warm as you slapped softly at your boyfriends chest. “You told him that?” You cried out, but your friends were up in arms, voice clamouring to be heard. 

“Steve! Mr Pebbles is the backbone of Maple Street!”

“Honestly, you guys, you really should be more careful when you’re driving—”

“We’ve walked in on them doing worse, I dunno why anyone is surprised. Remember that time at Hop’s birthday dinner? Dustin almost opened the bathroom door and saw them fu—”

And then Eddie was slamming his palm on the table, cutlery clattering and the elderly couple across aisle glared at him even more than they had already been doing. 

“A bet!” He declared and everyone groaned. “A challenge  - a quest - if you will.”

“Oh Jesus,” Robin sighed tiredly, rolling her eyes as she fell back against the window. “Here we go.”

The diner lights glowed neon and somewhere in the back of the kitchen, a drying pan hissed and popped. Steve’s hand was still on your thigh and Eddie was looking at you like his new favourite game. 

The curly haired boy wiggled his eyebrows at you and Steve, his grin sharklike. “Up for it, kids?”

Steve was muttering something under his breath and it definitely involved obscenities and snippets of a story about how Eddie’s last ‘quest’ got them all banned from the library and Robin a sprained ankle. 

Neither Robin nor Nancy had yet to forgive him. 

 But you just leaned back into Steve, smiling when he hooked his chin over your shoulder and you matched Eddie’s smile, head tilted to the side, watching him, calculated. 

“What is it?”

————— 

And now it was three days later and you were sitting at the bottom of Steve’s bed, shirt lost on his floor and your skirt indecently high, the fabric hitched up across your hips as you ran your fingertips across the skin on the inside of your thighs. 

The only light came from the bedside lamp, the last of the day giving away to night as the sun sunk behind the houses across from Steve’s bedroom window. 

Everything was pink and rosy, the light, the lavender tinted shadows, the rumpled bed sheets, Steve’s cheeks. 

“Baby,” Steve groaned, saying the pet name like a curse, back pressed to the headboard as he stared at you from behind messy hair. “Baby, c’mon.”

You grinned. 

“S’wrong, Steve?” You cooed, bordering on patronising but the boy didn’t care. He just huffed out a hot breath and squirmed, chest bare and his palm dragged across the hard outline of his cock. “You look a bit pent up.”

“I am,” Steve grunted, eyes squeezing shut as you brought your knees up to your chest and spread them, legs stretching back out to show off the white underwear you wore. “Babe, this isn’t fuckin’ fair.”

“What’s not fair?” You were being mean but fuck, if it didn’t made Steve’s cock jump under his sweatpants. “You said you could last, that’s what you told Eddie, right? A whole week, yeah?”

The boy huffed, eyes opening to watch you trace a finger along the cotton between your legs, the wetness there turning the material a little translucent. Your lips parted and Steve moaned, sounding wrecked. 

“Christ, can we not talk about Eddie right now, please,” he choked out, grabbing at the sheets, fishing them in his hands. “Babe, c’mon, wanna touch you.”

“Touch me and you lose, Stevie,” you told him sweetly. “S’only been three days.”

“Tell me about it,” he huffed, eyes hooded as he gazed at you, his stare following the hypnotic motion of your finger moving up and down your cotton covered slit. “Feels like m’gonna burst. Jesus, babe, you’re killin’ me.”

You were smiling, a little cruel but then Steve was swearing wildly, pushing himself onto his elbows when you tucked a finger under the cotton and pulled it to the side. 

“I know,” you whined back, over exaggerated and pouting. “Got me so wet, Steve, just wanna feel you.”

“You can’t say things like that,” Steve groaned, “baby, please.”

So you took a little pity, although the boy swore louder, crawling over his lap so you could sit yourself pretty there, legs splayed on either side of his hips. You traced the lines of his hip bones, the v shape that framed the ladder of hair on his tummy and you grinned when he rocked up into you, lips parting on a sigh. 

“Better?” You whispered. 

“Yes— no! I don’t fucking know, Jesus Christ, I just need to touch you.”

“Touch me and you lose,” you reminded him again, voice sticky sweet, your palms pressed to his bare chest as you leaned down, tits pushing against the lace of your bra and Steve felt like he was about to bite through his cheek. 

“I don’t care about the stupid bet,” Steve huffed out. He looked broken, head pushed back into the pillow, jaw slack and pupils blown wide as he let his gaze roam over you, his skin as warm as yours, cheeks flushed from the way you wiggled on top of him. “Fuckin’ Eddie.”

“I thought we weren't talking about him?” you quipped lightly, bringing your hands back to your skirt, pulling it up your thighs to flash your underwear again. 

“Shit,” Steve choked out, hands coming to his hair to pull at it in frustration. “We’re not.”

“Wanna watch?” You murmured, smiling as one bra strap fell down a shoulder. You didn’t bother to fix it. “Watch me touch myself, Stevie?”

Steve hissed, hips canting upwards and his hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” you admonished, feeling the ghost of a touch over your skin. “No touching. You just gotta watch, yeah? Can you do that?”

Steve wasn’t sure he could but he nodded anyway, desperate, eyes wide as your hand went back to your underwear, tugging aside the cotton once more and letting two fingers push into the slick there. You sighed, breath stuttering and Steve lost it underneath you, cursing and groaning, his cock jumping at the sight of how wet you were. 

You took your time with it, made the boy whine as you pressed circles to your clit, slow and lazy, head hanging back, chest pushed out, your other hand curled into the soft cotton of Steve’s sweats for balance. You were dying to feel his hands on you, but there was a masochistic need to hear the boy beg for you. 

“Holy shit, sweetheart,” he breathed out, “that’s so hot.”

“Yeah?” You asked nicely, voice soft and breath stuttering as the pleasure started to pick up. You wiggled a little, lifting yourself up enough to be able to push a finger inside of you, another to make yourself gasp. “You like watchin’, huh?”

Steve nodded, head bobbing frantically and his dick was throbbing beneath you, twitching against your thigh and you wondered if you could make him come like this, if he’d fall apart for you with the briefest of touches. 

“Such a good boy,” you whispered and you were half joking, only teasing until Steve’s lashes fluttered and he gasped out at your words, fingers twisting the bedsheets into balls once more. 

If Steve got harder, you only got wetter, and you whined at his reaction, eyes wide and you leaned down to him. Your hand was still crushed between you both and you rutted against the friction it created, your clit grinding against your fingers and the feel of Steve’s hard cock. 

You didn’t kiss him, not yet, just pressed your nose against his and panted against his mouth, both sets of lips parted as Steve did his best to arch up into you. 

“Y’know,” Steve breathed out, chest heaving against yours, “I don’t think this is what they meant when they said we had to keep our hands off each other for a week.”

You huffed out a laugh and Steve grinned, lips brushing over your jaw and chin, soft and sweet enough to make your eyes flutter shut and you leaned into it, fingers moving faster, trying your best to find that spot inside you that only Steve seemed to be able to reach. 

“Technically,” you gasped, “you’re not touching me.”

Steve threw his head back and let out a loud, filthy sound as his cock moved under his sweats, slipping to sit underneath your cunt, the pressure of it becoming too much for him. 

“Don’t fuckin’ remind me,” he hissed. “Need to though, please baby, c’mon—”

And then: “Oh god, oh shit, Steve! Fuckfuckfuck.”

“—are you gonna come?” Steve gasped out, falling back into the pillow as his eyes rolled back and he groaned. “Fucking hell, sweetheart, that’s it, c’mon, let me see you.”

You keened high as you kept rocking yourself against the boy and your fingers, reaching up to fist Steve’s messy hair in your hand and you pulled, tugging him up to kiss you as you came. You couldn’t help the way you pushed and pulled yourself over his lap, getting him and yourself a little messy, your fingers circling your clit. The friction was too much and it wasn’t enough and it felt too good but fucking hell it still wasn’t Steve that was inside of you. 

But he was swearing into your mouth, stuttering and groaning between each lick of your tongue over his and your hips twitched over his, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You felt a little dirty, using him to get yourself off as he lay hard as a rock underneath you, eyes dark and hooded with need as he gazed at you. 

“That’s it baby,” Steve huffed out a laugh, voice a little strained as he stared up at you, lips shiny from your kiss, cheeks pink and warm. “Keep goin’, yeah, that’s it, you look so fuckin’ pretty when you come, Christ.”

You were panting as you came down, slick fingers pushed to Steve’s chest and he groaned, eyes pleading with you even though he kept his hands by his sides. 

“Was that good?” He murmured. 

You nodded, too gone to speak, your eyes a little watery from the intensity of it all and you burned when Steve said:

“Show me.”

So you brought your fingers to his lips, letting out a little whine when he sucked them almost obscenely, tongue on the pads of your fingers so he could taste what you refused to give him. He looked like a man stared as his eyes rolled back at your taste, humming around the two digits, his own hips stuttering under your own. 

It was only then you realised that you weren’t the only one to have made a mess, a dark grey spot on Steve’s sweats that only seemed to grow. 

You gasped, all faux dramatics as you slipped your fingers from the boy’s mouth and tucked them under his waistband, pulling back the elastic to let it snap against his tummy. Steve whined, sensitive, and you grinned down at him, shaking your head. 

“Steve Harrington,” you tutted, full of playfulness. “You’re filthy.”

His cheeks burned, hating that he liked the way you teased him, a little in awe that you made him come in his pants like a fucking teenager. 

“D’you really blame me?” He asked. “Grinding all over me, looking like that and then you come?” Please, give a guy a chance.”  

You preened a little at his words, skin warm and slick to the touch from your exertion but you rewarded him with a kiss, chest pushed to his as he hummed against your lips, happy to feel you. 

You pulled away too quickly though, the boy chasing your mouth with his and he finally gave in and grabbed your chin with one hand to keep you where he wanted. 

You grinned against him, nipped at his bottom lip and pulled back just enough to pretend to scold him. 

“M’tellin’ Eddie,” you whispered, all faux seriousness. “That’s a rule break.”

Steve rolled his eyes and huffed before switching your positions, reminding you just how easily he could’ve overpowered you if he wanted to as he flipped you underneath him. You squeaked at the movement, the mattress bouncing and Steve blew a raspberry onto your neck. 

“New rule: no talking about Eddie fucking Munson when we’re half naked.”

You snorted, titling your chin up to let Steve kiss a line down your throat, teeth grazing at the space where it met your shoulder and you moaned breathily, already wanting more of him now that he finally had his hands on you. 

“Deal,” you murmured. “You still lost, though.”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh and he rocked his hips down into yours, the feel of his cock hardening again making you ache. 

“Did I?” 

[zeltqz]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 [𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃] SIX

pairing. ex!ran x fem!reader

word count. 7k

series synopsis. bonten is forming and in the midst of it all, you find yourself caught in the sticky webs of your ex boyfriend and current bonten executive, haitani ran.

content. smoking, mild drug use, SMUT, mentions of past alcohol addiction, murder/implied death threats

a/n: i am so SORRRY you all had to wait like two fucking months for the next chapter. I came back from my summer vacation and had my birthday recently so i was inactive sorry sososrryryryryr 😔😔 hope you enjoyed this chapter ily all

2006

You tried concentrating as you poured some milk into your cereal but the sounds of the TV channels being flipped every two seconds drove you to borderline insanity. “Would you chill out?” you asked, glaring at Ran over your bowl of cereal.

“Can’t find anything worth watching.” He was lounging around in your living room, his feet kicked up on your table and shrugged, turning to look at you and flashing a cheesy yet charming grin in your direction. 

Your mother walked down the stairs, rubbing her eyes tiredly. When she saw a shirtless Ran sitting on her couch, she almost passed out when she saw the litter of tattoos on his chest, trailing up and down his leg and arm. 

Ran felt her stare and glanced at her, raising a curious eyebrow and anything she had to complain about instantly faded as she shut her mouth and walked over to the kitchen. 

She dragged you to a corner of the kitchen, one where Ran couldn’t hear. “Is this the guy…you were telling me about?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes?” you responded, looking at her weirdly and scooped your spoon back into your cereal. “Why?”

“Why is he here..? At ten in the morning?”

“Oh. Because he slept over.” You took a bite of your food, satisfied with the small unhelpful answers you were giving her.

“Oh. I didn’t see him last night. What time did you get home?”

You shrugged. “Around 2-3?”

She pressed her lips together, firmly. “Where’s his shirt?”

“I got hot during the night,” you laughed but she didn’t find it funny.

“Well couldn’t you give him another one?”

“Unless you want to see him in one of my tank tops then no.” The amusement slowly drifted away when you realised she wasn’t humouring you at all and she was being serious. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

She gave you a concerned look, like she expected the answer to be obvious but it only pissed you off more. Who the hell was she to judge who you liked?

Reading the look on your face, she instantly dropped the topic, not wanting to get into another argument with you, especially not sober. “Okay, fine. I won’t ask any questions.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the cupboard. “Are you at least going to school today? It started three hours ago.”

You shook your head. “I’m staying here with Ran today. You’ll be gone, right? For that job interview?”

“...yeah. My AA sponsor said I should start getting back on my feet.”

“Good.” You put your cereal bowl down. “I can stop carrying the household on my back and you can start doing your job as a mother,” you said sweetly, tilting your head condescendingly to the side. 

She returned your incredibly fake smile for a second and then sighed, dropping the act and returning back to concerned mother. “Skipping school for a boy though…? Is that really smart?”

You glared at her, pushing your side off the counter to stand in front of her. “Don’t start this. Not now. I’m happy, and he makes me happy. If you cared about me, you’d accept it. Hiro likes him too!”

She shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to come off as gentle yet firm. “You may think he makes you happy, but—”

“I think I know what I like mom. I’m eighteen! I’m not some child that doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“You’re dating a guy that looks at least twenty—”

“I’m nineteen,” Ran called back from the living room, his eyes glued onto his phone. 

Your mother’s mouth closed shut as she ate down her words and you looked at her, waiting to see what bullshit she’d come up with next. She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I didn’t know he could hear us.”

“So?”

Your mother grabbed your hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “What you’re going through, baby, is what every teenage girl goes through at your age. It’s a phase.”

“It’s not a—fuck! Mom!”

“It is!! I went through the same thing at your age. Next thing you know I got knocked up by a—”  she lowered her voice to ensure Ran couldn’t hear this time, “a delinquent. And how do you think that turned out?” You shrugged your shoulders. “Exactly. He fucking left. Where else do you think your dad is right now?”

“I don’t care about that man. Ran is nothing like that. He actually cares about me. He got me a job, taught me things and even let’s me stay at his place when I don’t want to stay here.”

“Wait, you stay at his? Like live with him?” 

You nodded slowly. “The fact you don’t even know when I’m gone is concerning. What’s the problem anyway?I use protection if that’s what you’re so scared of—” 

“I just don’t want you fucking up your life like I did mine. Especially at your age. Okay?”

“Who said I’m—”  Your mother shushed you when your volume was starting to rise. You cleared your throat and spoke again, but more quietly, “who said I’m fucking my life up?”

“You’re literally skipping school!”

“It’s the first time! Just for today! It’s his only free day, okay? I dunno when I’ll be able to spend time with him again. Just let me have this. Please? I’ll catch up on my school work tomorrow. I promise.”

“He’s not a good influence, baby. You’re smart, you can do better than this.” 

“Are we done here?” You sighed, rubbing your temples in irritation. Your mother looked like she had more to say but closed her mouth and slowly shook her head. “Good.” You walked away from the kitchen, into the living room and flopped down on the couch next to Ran. 

You waited until your mother walked back up the stairs before turning to face Ran, putting your head on his shoulder.

 “Hey, pretty girl. You done arguing with your mother yet?” He said, attention fully on his phone and lifted his arm up to wrap around your shoulder, holding you tightly against his side. 

“Hiya,” you smiled and nuzzled your face in his chest, taking in his strong scent. “My mother thinks you’re a bad influence.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” he said, grinning. You playfully slapped his arm and he slid his hand down to your sides before lifting you up and to straddle his lap. 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you said softly, lacing your arms behind his head and leaning down to peck him on the lips. “She’s just a hypocrite.”

“It’s fine baby. C’mere.” You shifted on his lap to rest your head against his shoulder. “You worry too much. Who cares what people think.”

“I don’t care. I just hate her fucking opinion. She always judges everything I do. Then once she starts drinking again she becomes the most irresponsible person on the planet, but expects me to be a saint? It’s so tiring.” 

Ran hummed and kissed your forehead. “Want me to make you feel better?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him before smiling. He tossed his phone on the opposite couch and flipped your positions, your back resting flat against the couch as he hovered over you. You erupted in a fit of giggles and laughter as he kissed his way down your stomach, making you squirm and squeal with excitement. The buzz of butterflies flew in your stomach as he kissed down your belly. Your shorts were short enough to show him the lace of your panties Mira helped you pick out during your shopping spree last week. You watched intently, bunching his long hair up and out of his face as his lips lingered close to your thighs. Your breath hitched as he stuck out his tongue, running it along the thin fabric, then licked a trail back up your body, to your face, kissing you deeply. 

Your mother watched from the staircase shaking her head in disappointment as she watched you fall for someone like him. She's had experience with guys like Ran, she knows what kind of monster they are deep down inside and knows exactly how they were. After all, she fucked around with a guy like that and got pregnant at 20. Your dad was a deadbeat, refusing to accept you as his own and left when you were four. Ever since that night, she's been drinking to cope with the loneliness, unable to function by herself after getting so attached to him. They'd be on and off for a couple years, and constantly get your hopes up that you'd be a happy family, but they just weren't meant to work out.

In all honesty, she would have loved for you to meet someone else, a nice guy who could give you a stable relationship, but that's impossible. In her eyes, Ran was bad news, he was all fun and games, but deep down he had no feelings for you other than lust. And once you fell for him, he would use you until he got bored and moved onto the next girl. She couldn't imagine why you would fall for him. But it was obvious how happy you are with him. So you can only hope that she was wrong. That maybe one day you will meet someone special, and not end up like her.

So she let out a heavy sigh, and went back upstairs. 

Present day.

It had been a week, and the phone Mikey gave you remained eerily silent, devoid of any notifications or messages. You spent the weekend at Shion’s house, keeping conversations to a minimum, only sharing faint smiles when he’d place his hand on your waist for a kiss. You weren’t in the mood, and you felt guilty for taking your sour mood on him, but the conversation with Dona and the plan Mikey and Sanzu formed had put a damper on your entire mood.

You hadn’t left Shion’s house either; instead, you laid on the bed, consumed by your thoughts about what you’d have to do with Mira. Your finger hovered over Mira’s contact for a few moments before you finally decided to get over yourself and text her.

You: MIRAA i missed you so much. Are you free anytime soon? 

You cringed at the text but sighed and hit send. Mira seemed likely to be busy, what with her engagement to the head of police, or chief of police? Frankly, you couldn’t be bothered to remember Naoto’s job title. While waiting for her response, you managed to clean both Shion’s bedroom and the living room. Boredom had driven you to it, there was nothing else for you to do anyway. 

Ran’s number remained blocked, even though you knew it wasn’t his fault that lackeys broke into Hiro’s house and beat him half to death like you thought initially. But at the end of the day, you still promised Hiro you’d stay away from Ran. It wasn’t as simple as it sounded, especially since the initial anger toward him had faded now that you knew the incident wasn’t planned, not even Mikey had been aware of it.

You were in the midst of wiping down the kitchen counters, earphones playing your favourite song in your eyes when your phone suddenly buzzed in your back pocket. The vibration startled you, and you hastily set the cleaning wipes aside. After drying your hands on the sides of your jeans, you grabbed your phone from your pocket.

Mira: HEY!!!!!!!!! ITS BEEN SO LONG I MISSED YOU SO MUCH :( SORRY BUT I’M BUSY ALL WEEK. I’M FREE THIS WEEKEND THOUGH. IS SATURDAY ALRIGHT?

You chewed the inside of your cheek, taking a moment to think. Next Saturday seems fine, but you feel by then it’ll have already been two weeks and you don’t want to wait too long before Mikey and Sanzu think you’re stalling. You brought out the burner phone in your dresser and unlocked it, pulling out Dona’s saved contact details and called her for advice.

You had a few questions on your mind to ask her. How long does it take to piss Mikey off, how many bodies does Sanzu have, how to quit this Bonten agreement with all your limbs and organs intact. It still angered you to even think about asking Dona, especially after the argument, but you had no other choice.

It seemed like the idea of talking to you pissed Dona off as well since she practically growled, “What the hell do you want?” the second she picked up the phone.

“Oh grow up, would you? This 8 year one sided grudge you have isn’t cute.”

“Did you think for a second that maybe it’s not a ‘one-sided grudge’ and I just genuinely don’t fucking like you?”

You rolled your eyes so far back in your head and settled down on the bed with a hefty sigh. “Cool. Anyway, are you free on Saturday?”

“...why?”

“Is it not fucking obvious why?” you snapped. There was a long silence on the other end before you groaned loudly. “Mira? The plan? The whole entire reason we’re even talking right now?”

“Oh. That. Can’t, sorry. I’m busy on Saturday.”

“Well that’s the only day Mira is available so clear up some damn room and cancel your plans.”

“I’ll think about it.” Dona said.

“‘Kay. Thank you D—” There was a beep and the disconnected sound blared in your eyes. “Bitch.” You tossed the burner back into the dresser with a thud and you quickly made sure you didn’t crack the screen. Inspection over, you grabbed your main phone and texted Mira saying you couldn’t wait to see her this weekend, smiling when she sent a string of emojis mixed with hearts and smiley faces before disappearing offline.

Your heart warmed knowing she hadn’t changed a single bit, always sending those same string of emojis whenever you both parted ways during texts. You left your phone on the bed, about to head back to the kitchen when your phone buzzed against the sheets. You picked up the phone, only to see there were no notifications. Confused, you looked around, remembering the burner phone and grabbed it. 

The phone only had 9 saved numbers: Mikey, Sanzu and Dona were the only ones that you knew of. You didn’t bother checking the rest. Pulling up the contacts, you saw the names of all the other executives: Ran, Rindou, Kokonoi, Takeomi, Mochizuki and Kakucho.

“Oh my god, Kaku,” you said to nobody but yourself. You were faintly acquainted with Kakucho, only saying hello and exchanging waves whenever you crossed paths, which wasn’t often either. You barely saw Ran’s friends back then except Rindou. 

You checked the recent messages on the burner. You couldn’t help but feel lightness in your chest when you saw the message was from Ran. 

Ran: so this is where you’ve been hiding

You smiled at the text, shifting onto your back on the bed and typed back a response. 

You: how did you find me

Ran: you forget who I work for?

You: oh. yeah makes sense

You: so what do you want

Ran: i miss you

You: u went 8 years without me. You’ll live

Ran: and I joined a criminal organisation, cut my hair short and dyed it pink and purple. What does that tell you

You: that I’m amazzzingggg

Ran: ik u are. 

Ran: come over tonight 

You: I can’t sorry. I made a promise that I can’t see u again

Ran: I would take that seriously if you didn’t make that same exact promise to ur mother ten years ago

Ran: and I still got u in my bed

You: …

You: fine. But I don’t want your drivers driving me around anymore. 

Ran: thought you would like the princess treatment 

You: no I don’t. You can help buy me a car tho?

Ran: ?

You: plsplsplsplspslspslssss

Ran: I’ll think about it

You: and I’ll see you tonight 

Ran: alright baby

“I’m back!” Shion called from the front door. 

You turned your phone off and entered the living room, approaching Shion from behind. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a bear hug. He stumbled forward from the impact, taking a second to catch his footing before peeking behind his arm at your face dug into his back. “Aw, you missed me.”

He turned around and you let go of his waist, his hands rising to hold your face and plaster a wet sticky kiss on your forehead. 

“Ew, gross,” you mumbled, a hint of a playful smile on your lips as you wiped your hand over the leftover spit. He grumbled for you to shut up and walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge door to examine its contents. “I’m not gonna be home on Saturday,” you said as you followed behind him.

“Really? Why?”

“I’m hanging out with Mira. A little reunion thing, you know?”

“That’s cute.” He pulled out the milk and opened it, sniffing it, then grimaced and tossed it in the trash. “But who the hell is Mira?”

“You really don’t remember her? Me, her and Dona?”

Shion removed his head from the fridge and looked at you and shrugged. “Oh wait.” He took a moment and you crossed your arms, waiting. “Oh! Her! Didn’t she have a crush on me?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes. “She found you cute at first, then you got knocked out in a fight. Instant ick.”

His eyes narrowed. “That fight wasn’t fair and you know it. Nobody told Hanma to bring a goddamn bat.”

“Like you’d win if he didn’t have the bat—” You just about dodged the empty water bottle he tossed at you. You quickly grabbed it and threw it back in his direction. He swiftly swatted it away before it could hit him and you scoffed. “If only you could fight as good as you could dodg—”

“That’s it.” He picked you up by the legs and carried you over to the couch, ignoring your complaints which eventually turned into laughter when he set you onto the couch. He swatted away some cushions and pinned you against the surface. 

“You caught me off guard. That’s all.”

“Yeah okay.” He laughed and dipped his head down towards yours. You parted your lips when his tongue slid past your teeth, hot against your own. You giggled, closing your eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Lemme borrow your car later,” you said in between kisses, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started nibbling at your neck.

“What?” he mumbled softly, breaking the kiss and looking down at you. “Fuck it’s been so long since I fucked you.”

“I said,'' you wound your arms around his neck. “Can you lemme borrow your car tonight?”

His eyes travelled down your body and his gaze lingered on the swell of your tits through your shirt for a moment before moving back up to your eyes when you purposefully moved your head to his eyeline. “Please?”

“Uh. What for?”

You shrugged and lolled your head back against the couch, your finger rising to wrap your finger around the silver chain dangling from his neck. “I just want to drive around. I’m bored. Please?”

“I mean sure…but—” You swiftly sat up and kissed his cheek as a distraction. His cheeks were flushed slightly and he bit down on his lower lip, a satisfied grin forming on his face when your lips slowly trailed from his cheeks to his lips, kissing him slowly and passionately, the way you know he likes it. 

You pulled away and brought his head down to your lips, whispering, “please?” into his ear. He groaned and kissed you one last time before thoroughly agreeing. “Thank you thank you thank you! Mwah.” You planted one more kiss on his lips before pushing him off of you and slipping off the couch.

~*~

“What exactly is this supposed to be?”

Ran shrugged, finished downing his drink and placed it back on the counter top before leaning forward to get a closer look at the little baggie you had in your hand. “Kokonoi gave it to me.”

“Yeah okay, but—” You let out a noise of doubt and put it back on the table. “I don’t trust it.”

“Since when were you a pussy?” 

You looked up at Ran and glared at the smug smile on his face. “I’m not a pussy Ran. I just don’t want to eat a random pill that you yourself said you don’t know what it's called!”

He rested his elbows on the marble countertop and his grin widened. “I took it earlier and I’m fine.”

“That’s because you barely have brain cells left to scramble.” You reached over the counter and ruffled his perfectly styled hair. “I’ll do it because I trust you.” You removed the pink pill from the baggie and held it up to your eyes, examining it cautiously. “If this kills me—”

“It won’t, you big baby. Eat it.”

You bit your lip and thought for a moment before looking back up at him. “Fine. Get me some water.”

“Just swallow it.”

You huffed, “I need some water to help. I can’t just swallow it.”

He looked at you, amused, and crossed his arms. “Why not?”

“Because! Ugh, shut up!” You put the pill back on the counter and stormed over to the cabinet, grabbing an empty glass, then to the tap to fill it with tap water. Ran laughed from his corner of the kitchen as he watched you stomp your way around his kitchen, like a storm. You turned to glare at him, his laugh only making you even more annoyed. “What the hell is so funny?”

“You,” he cackled again when your eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Your temper. It’s hilarious.”

“I don’t have a goddamn temper.”

“You explode at anything small. It’s cute.” He walked over towards you and booped your nose, the tip of his finger skirting down your cheek to your chin, lifting your face up to his eyeline. “You really haven’t changed a single bit. It’s reassuring.”

“Well, thanks.” You looked down at the glass of water with an uncertain look on your face. “This’ll get me high right?”

“Yeah.” You took a second for motivation and Ran moved to grab the pill off the counter. He returned in front of you, “Open your mouth.” He waited until your mouth was open before slotting the pill on the flat pink of your tongue. You brought the water up to your mouth and took a sip before digesting it. 

Thanks to the water, you couldn’t feel the full effects of the pill hitting you until a few hours later, you resting on top of Ran’s chest, drifting in and out of sleep. He had you locked tight around his arms, enjoying the warmth and weight of you atop of him. He felt you shuffle around, trying to get comfortable.  

“What car do you want?” Ran asked, looking down at your head resting against his chest. Your head was tucked under his chin, one arm wrapped around his waist as the other clutched onto his shirt. 

Your head felt heavy when you tried to lift it from his chest and squinted up at him. With the drugs running through your veins, everything looked brighter and crispier, colours seeming sharper than usual. It was hard to focus. “Ummm, what car?” you asked slowly.

Ran chuckled softly and leaned downwards, pressing his lips against your forehead. “The one you asked me to buy you.”

“Hm.” You sat up from his chest and straddled his lap. He slid his hands up your thighs to hold onto your hips. Your hands rested beside his head as you hazily looked down at him. “I wasn’t serious about that. You know?”

“Serious or not, I’ll buy it for you. Anything you want. Just tell me.”

“Really?” you smiled and bit your lip.

He shifted upwards, inching closer to your face, your nose brushing against his. “Anything you want.”

You couldn’t resist the close proximity anymore and dipped your head downwards, kissing him gently. You lifted one hand from the bed to rest on the side of his face. He pulled your hips closer, pressing you hard against his erection. The friction and the heat of his body against yours made you moan softly, which he eagerly swallowed up with each kiss. 

You could feel his cock begin to harden against your inner thigh and bit down on his lip before sucking it back into his mouth, relishing in the low groan he left out when you slowly pushed your hips back against his lap. Your hands gripped onto the pillow under him, digging your nails into the fabric as you latched your lips onto the skin of his neck, biting and sucking gently on the flesh. His hand skimmed past your thighs, along the curve of your ass and gripped it, squeezing whatever he could grab and groaned at the feeling of your soft lips against his skin, sucking softly.

You broke the kiss and licked down his neck. His skin tasted sweet and tangy, sending tingles throughout your entire body. 

Your world was flipped when he switched positions in the blink of an eye and hovered above you, gazing into your eyes with lust filled desire. You looped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, locking your lips together.You felt Ran’s hands slide across your leg and hitched it upwards to wrap around his waist, and you whimpered in response, your back arching as you let yourself loose around him.

“This okay?” he murmured softly against your lips as his hand slowly entered inside your jeans. You nodded vigorously and pulled him back down for a kiss, slipping your tongue desperately between his lips. The sheets got tangled beneath your bodies as you both kissed passionately. 

You pushed him onto his side, his hand lifting your thigh to rest over your leg. His fingers unzipped your jeans and helped you toss them off before lifting your thigh to rest over his leg, sliding his hand down to rest against your ass, his grip creating a heat wild enough within you and sending a jolt of electricity to your core.

With every inch of his body pressed against you, you couldn’t help but moan. “Fuck me please Ran. I need it.”

Ran hummed deeply against your lips and pushed you onto your back. He knelt between your legs and you giggled as he parted them open with his big hands. You reached downwards, his fingers teasing the waistband of his pants and you helped him push it down and off his hips. You grabbed his cock, the tip wet with pre and positioned it by your entrance. He braced his hands beside your head, his forehead touching yours as your pussy twitched when he moved closer to you, trailing kisses along your neck.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, closing your eyes shut when you felt his cock slowly enter you. “Fuck fuck fuck oh my god.” You dug your fingers into his shoulder blades and arched your back, feeling the head slide past your barrier, stretching you out.

“Almost there baby.” He kept thrusting slowly, taking his time and going further inside of you with each stroke. You cried out loud, louder than before, moaning constantly as he pushed himself deeper into you. “God, you’re so tight.” He groaned out your name and your body shivered at the raspiness of his voice.

“More,” you panted desperately, your eyes meeting his gaze for the first time since entering you. 

He snapped his hips forward, filling you completely and pulled all the way out, his cock wet with your juices before fucking back into you. The heat of his skin searing your walls as you sank your nails into his shoulders. His lips found yours again, soft and warm. Your fingertips flipped across his back and you felt his cock throb within you. Each thrust had you clenching around him, clutching him tight to your body as he fucked you with slow, methodical strokes.

You tossed your head back, panting and crying out, clutching onto his hair, the back of his shirt, anything you could possibly muster. 

“Arms up baby,” he ordered and sat back, his cock still warming your sides. His hands held onto your hips, digging into the soft flesh as you shrugged your shirt off, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra and toss it off the bed. It landed into a sorry puddle on the floor along with your shirt and Ran’s jeans, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when you looked back and saw Ran in the middle of shedding his shirt off. 

“I always loved this tattoo,” you giggled, running your arms along the pattern before bringing him back down to your level, arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down for another steamy kiss. 

You spread your legs wider apart and pressed down on his lower back to get him deeper inside you. His mouth travelled to your breasts where he started sucking on your nipples, biting down softly and nibbling on them. He slipped his hand beneath your body and grasped your clit, rubbing lightly in circles causing you to gasp loudly. You came apart in his arms, shattering into pieces and screaming his name in his ear. He pumped faster and harder, his hips slamming against yours as you tightened around his cock once more. His climax shot through him, thrusting every inch of his cum spilling inside of you. Every drop was heaven, you felt yourself tighten up once more and seconds later your orgasm arrived, intensifying everything. You dripped on his cock and held onto him so tight you swore there were permanent nail marks on the bone of his shoulder.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, breathing heavily. Your muscles relaxed slightly and your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled you to lay close against him. He kissed your neck softly, stroking your thighs with his hands. 

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Mmmm. I’m amazing,” you hummed in agreement, resting your head against his chest and nuzzling against him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. “I really missed you Ran.”

His eyes traced your face and he saw the genuinity in your eyes. “Me too baby.” He smiled softly and his hands slid down your bare back and cupped your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Missed this too.”

He leaned in and kissed you on the lips. Anything you had to say melted away as you indulged in him, humming softly into his mouth before pulling away. 

~*~

The supermarket was busy and bustling as Mira walked through the aisles with her shopping cart. She had a whole list ready and was looking for the dairy aisle when she bumped into someone’s cart. “Sorry!” she apologised and gasped when she looked up and saw who it was. “Dona?”

Dona smiled at her and waved, putting her basket on the floor as Mira practically pounced on her, pulling her into a suffocating hug. 

“I thought I’d never see you again! What the hell?!” Mira pulled away and rested her hands on Dona’s shoulders, practically buzzing with excitement. “You look so good!”

“Oh stop,” Dona pushed her hands off her shoulders. “You’re still so damn energetic, it’s crazy.” She put her hands in her pocket. “What’s up though. What’re you shopping for?”

“Oh this stupid party Naoto wants me to host for his cop buddies.” Mira sighed and walked back to her cart. “I love Naoto but fuck, those damn cops are so annoying.”

“Really?” Dona asked, grabbing her shopping list. “Wouldn’t expect nothing more from a buncha cops. I’m surprised you’re even with one to be honest. Thought you hated them.”

“I do!” Mira said, hiding her face behind her hands while laughing. “No but Naoto’s…different.”

Dona stared blankly at her. “Different…?”

“Yeah! He’s not like those backwards, misogynistic asshole cops. He’s so sweet and treats me like a queen and he’s so sweet! Oh my god! He does this cute thing in the mornings and brushes my hair out of my face and whispers “good morning beautiful” in my ear every morning. I pretend I’m asleep just so I can hear him say it and he kisses me goodbye before work and—”

“Okay I get it! Sheesh, rub in your relationship more in my face would you?” Dona sighed and picked up her basket, following next to Mira as she began walking with her trolley. 

“I can’t believe you’re still single! Guess he really broke your heart, huh?”

“Don’t even talk about him right now. Fuck Shuji. That fucking asshole.”

Mira laughed. “That was like what, ten years ago? You need to let that go.”

“I’m trying! Okay?! But my minds been occupied with…stuff.”

Mira stopped by the meat aisle and began searching for some chicken breast. “Stuff or someone?”

“Someone as in a boy?” Dona asked and Mira nodded, checking the back of the package before dumping it into the trolley. “No, I'm not seeing someone.”

“You should.”

“I’m good.”

“You used to be so boy crazy! What happened?”

Dona shrugged and looked down at the floor for a short moment, biting the soft tissue of her cheek. “I just grew up I guess. Anyway, this party thing. When is it?”

“Tomorrow night. I have to cook for a bunch of weirdo cops. Not looking forward to it.” Mira paused for a moment and then gasped. “You should come with me!”

Dona blinked at her. “What?”

“Yes! Oh my god please please please. I’ll need someone to keep me company.” She clung onto Dona’s arms as she begged. “I’m so sick of all the other cops' wives. They’re all judgemental and yucky and like three times my age. Definitely jealous of my youth.”

Dona laughed and Mira pouted, hoping it’ll be enough to convince her. With a final sigh, Dona finally gave in. “Fine. But only for two hours. I have work.”

“Really? What do you work as?”

“I uh…it’s complicated.”

“At least you have a job. I’m just known as Naoto’s wife and stay at home all day. Maybe I could come visit you on your free days?”

“It’s oof.” Dona thought about it for a moment. “I can take you to a club I work at whenever you’re free. Sometimes we gamble and stuff. You wanna join?”

“Gambling…? I thought that was illegal.”

“Never stopped us back in the day.” Dona winked, playing around and watched the conflict flicker all over her face. “It’ll be a little secret. You don’t have to tell Naoto anything.”

“Of course I won’t! I may be marrying a cop but I’m not a snitch. Especially on my best friend. I’m just worried about what Naoto would think about me going to a gambling club. He’d definitely lock the place up, haha.”

Dona rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to tell him anything. You’re allowed to have secrets.”

“Legal secrets, yeah.”

“Come onnnnnnnnn. Join me! It’ll be fun, I promise. I’ll even invite (Name) over.”

Mira’s face lit up even more. “Really?! She can come!?

“She fuckin’ better come.” 

“Oh my god the gang's back together!” Mira chirped and jumped before pulling Dona into a big hug. “I can’t wait! Lemme go text (Name) right now!”

“You go do that.” Dona checked her phone. “I gotta go anyway. My boss wants me to clock in now.” She pulled Mira in for another hug. “I’ll see you as soon as I can, okay.”

“Okay, bye bye!”

When Dona left the store, she quickly typed a message to you before entering her car and driving off.

~*~

“Are you busy tomorrow?” you asked hesitantly.

Ran laughed softly. “I’m working tomorrow. Probably be gone for most of the day.” He shifted onto his back and laced his arms behind his head. You propped yourself onto your side and frowned. “What’s wrong baby.”

You shrugged and looked downwards at the mattress, speaking in a quiet voice. “I dunno, I'm just lonely. And bored. I don’t really have anything to do lately.”

He ran his thumb down your cheekbone. “You wanna come with me?”

“Depends. Do I have to witness a murder?”

He grinned widely. “If everything goes well tomorrow night then there’ll be no murder.”

You snorted. “So there’s still a possibility, huh?”

“People die everyday,” he mused and you looked at him with a serious face, pursing your lips together and he sighed. “Fine. Fine. Even if things go to shit tomorrow I promise I won’t kill anybody. I’ll…think of other things.”

“Good enough for me.” You leaned in to kiss him again but stopped short when your phone buzzed. You groaned and reached behind you, fumbling for it on the dresser, bringing it up and reading the text from Mira and Dona. 

Mira: I RAN INTO DONA AT THE SUPERMARKET AND SHE WANTS TO HANG OUT TOMORROW!!!! ARE YOU FREE?

Dona: got mira to come to the club. Be there tomorrow at 7

“Oh fuck,” you muttered under your breath. 

“What’s wrong?” Ran leaned his head on your shoulder and read the text message. 

“Guess I won’t be following you to work tomorrow then,” you said, turning your phone off. You looked over at the heavyweight on your shoulder and rested your head against his. “I’m seeing Mira tomorrow. So I guess you know what that means?”

“Is this about that stupid plan you made with Sanzu?” He asked, pulling away from your head, reaching inside his drawer for a cigarette. You nodded and watched him light the end and shifted back on the bed, bringing the covers over your naked body to cover you. 

“You know about that plan?”

“Little bit.” He lit the cigarette and tossed the lighter back into the drawer. “If it’s not affecting me or any of my business, I don’t care enough to ask more.”

“It’s not affecting you? This Naoto dude?” you asked, trying to get a bigger picture.

“I mean he is, but I’m careful. He’s not catching me anytime soon.”

“Still cocky as ever huh,” you said and he grinned widely around his cigarette. “Anyway I hate the plan a lot. But it's for Hiro's benefit and I’m willing to do anything for him. Even if it means fucking up Mira’s marriage and her fiance’s career forever.”

Ran could feel like there was something up with you and eyed you for a moment. To anyone it was clear the plan was bugging you and as much as you tried acting cool about it, he could tell the guilt was slowly eating you inside. He exhaled cigarette smoke out before putting it on the ashtray beside his bed, shifting back against the bedframe and opened his arms for you to fit in. “C’mere.”

You looked at him and his open arms and shifted forward, crawling the distance between you both and rested between his arms. He enclosed them around you, the side of his face resting against your forehead.

“Do you need some advice from me or want me to shut up and stay silent?” he asked for a moment.

You let out a silent laugh and nodded. “Advice please.”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and began speaking. “Sometimes in life you gotta do bad shit. Even if you don’t wanna.” He finished talking and you waited a couple seconds for him to continue. 

You were confused when he unwrapped his arms around you and slid off the bed, putting his boxers back on and stretching. 

“What the hell? Is that it Ran?”

“Yeah.” He walked over to his closet and began rummaging for tomorrow’s outfit.

“What kind of advice was that?!” You groaned, stopping your eyes from rolling back. “Sometimes I forget how useless you are.”

“Temper baby,” he responded back, flicking through the range of suits and blazers hung in his closet. You took a moment to admire his closet, impressed with his collection of suits, ranging in different colours and couldn’t help but imagine anybody but Ran pulling it off.

He found an old dress hung up and tossed it in your direction. “Try this shit on for me.” 

The dress landed on your face and you grimaced and pulled it off. Holding it up in the air, you examined it, front to back. “Why the hell do you even have a dress? It’s so small it can’t even fit me!”

“Some girl must’ve left it over,” he said casually, picking out a purple form fitting suit from the hanger and left it on the edge of his bed. All forms of amusement on your face slowly melted at the mention of another girl and you deadpanned in his direction, but he missed it as he began changing back into his clothes. “Does it fit you?” he asked, fitting his shirt over his head.

“Don’t tell me you expect me to wear this? I’m not wearing some recycled dress.”

“You want me to buy you a new dress?” he asked, looking at you.

“Duh.”

He knelt down on the edge of the bed and grabbed the dress, tossing it towards the end of the bed. Your complaint was cut short when he grabbed your ankle and tugged, successfully tipping your back onto the mattress as he inched forwards, climbing over you. His hands laced between yours and you looked up at him, wide eyed. 

“I wonder what it’ll take to get rid of this attitude of yours, hm.” You tried to struggle out of his grip but your attempts were pointless. 

“I don’t have an attitude.”

“Yeah you do. Now ask nicely and I’ll get you what you want.”

You bit down on your tongue and swallowed your pride before lowering your voice to a whisper. “Can you buy me a dress?”

“Can’t hear youuu,” he leaned his ear down lower to your mouth to hear better. “Use your words.”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again.”

He pulled away and stood up from the bed. “Baby steps. But fine. I’ll take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow. I’m busy.”

“When are you free then?”

“Any day that’s not tomorrow.” You stood up from the bed. “But I’ll probably have to see you tomorrow if you’re going to be at the club Dona sent me.”

“Maybe.” He pulled you closer for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his midsection and you dug your face in his chest, enjoying how big and warm he was. 

“Can I stay over tonight?” you asked after a moment, looking up at him. 

“You’re gonna be home alone though. I’m not coming back till late.”

“How late?” He pulled his arms away from you. “Dunno. Maybe three? Four?”

“Jesus what the hell do you do all day?”

“Don’t worry.” He booped your nose and you scrunched it in response. “Get some sleep okay? I can see your damn eye bags.”

“Fine. Goodnight and thanks for letting me stay.” You got into bed, grabbing the big warm sheets and covering your whole body. 

“Anytime baby.”

masterlist

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[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 17

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Joel Miller x f!reader

Tick. Tick. Tick.

You had never paid attention to the sound of the clock on the wall in Joel's kitchen. Not even for a second. Right then, it was deafening.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Joel lazily proded at some rice to the side of a his barely-touched chicken breast. Each time he brought the fork to his mouth, half the rice cascaded down like a little waterfall back onto the dish before he ate whatever was left. For the first time since you'd known each other, you didn't know what to say; and it appeared as though Joel didn't feel like talking.

The constant ticking made you want to tear the clock off the wall. It reminded you of a bomb with its menacing, repetitive clicks.

"Joel, I'm really sorry about what happened to Ronnie," you told him. "And your bike."

He cut off a corner of the chicken and forked the bite into his mouth with a little thank-you nod.

"They're going to arrest him," you went on. "They have to."

"We'll see about that," Joel said dryly. He rose from where he was seated and wandered to the far side of the kitchen where the refrigerator sat encased in darkness.

Light pooled out onto the floor when Joel opened it up to retrieve a beer. He popped the top, using the top of the counter and a little slam of his hand before tossing the cap into the sink.

"They haven't found him yet." The light from the refrigerator that highlighted where Joel stood slowly crept back into hiding as the door closed shut and all you could really see was his silhouette as he lifted the bottle to his lips.

"They will." Your phone went off and it was another random number that 'just wanted to say hi'. You blocked it.

"Another one," Joel suspected, taking his time to rejoin you at the table.

"Yeah." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I just keep forwarding the numbers to Officer Tate."

"She's the only one on that force with a brain." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he placed the beer down beside the cold dish.

"She was really helpful." You sawed into the last bit of your chicken and let out a little sigh.

The ticking returned to the foreground as you sat there together in silence. You looked around to every stray corner of the room and did a double take when you spotted two stray pumpkin seeds near the mat at the back door that had managed to survive the cleanup.

Your chest felt heavy. The night before had been so carefree and light. It was a night you would live a thousand times over if you could. It's funny how drastically the mood can change in twenty-four hours.

"I think you should keep away from me for awhile," Joel said to break the silence. "Until this blows over."

You switched your gaze back to him across the table. "That's really what you want?"

Joel glanced up from where he stared down at his hands folded in his lap. He looked you in the eye. "It's not about what I want. It's about what's smart.. and safe."

"Well, I guess I'll have to play dumb then."

"This is serious."

"Yes, *this* is serious." You motioned back and forth between the two of you.

"You know what I mean." He looked at you more sternly.

"Why do you constantly insist on doing this alone, Joel?"

"Because everyone who associates with me gets hurt." Joel raised his voice just a little. "You. Ronnie." He extended an arm out to the side.

"I'm not hurt." You shook your head.

"Not physically," he added. "Not yet."

Your phone went off again and you rolled your eyes and slammed it upside down on the table.

Joel's eyes glanced at the device and then back to you. "See what I mean?"

"Okay, so I'll just go home and deal with all of this by myself in my room."

"At least you'll be safe there."

"Will I?" You were borderline shouting now. "Will I, Joel? Because last I checked that flyer was in my home mailbox. It was also at my work. If they want to do something to me, they can whether I'm there or here."

"They'll leave you alone if you're not with me."

"You don't know that!"

A loud crash made you jump out of your seat and you rushed to Joel's side as he did the same and pulled you against him. He then positioned his body in front of yours.

"What the fuck was that?" You breathed heavy and walked a step behind Joel, clutching him as you both rounded the corner into the living room.

The picture window behind the couch had been shattered. Jagged glass was scattered about the living room, and a brick wrapped in paper with words scribbled on it sat on the hardwood floor just in front of the fireplace.

A menacing, jovial voice could be heard from outside. "Jooooeeeel."

"Stay here," he shouted, retrieving one of the tools to stoke the fire with before rushing out the door and slamming it behind him.

It all happened so fast, leaving you inside to attempt to process what was happening. You decided not to listen to him and ran out onto the porch after him.

"Go inside!" Joel shouted at you this time as he took the stairs off the porch into the secluded front yard.

"Joel! Come back!" You shouted back. "Please, come back!"

His shoulders seemed to broaden as he huffed out loud, looking around the yard with the fire stoker in one hand.

"Come on!" Joel shouted. "You fucking cowards!"

"Joooeeeel," the same voice taunted from somewhere in the darkness. It sounded echoey and dreamlike, cutting his name into two syllables.

"Joel!" You shouted his name again and went to run toward him. At the same time someone emerged from the tree line wearing a pumpkin headed mask. The abrupt nature of it made you scream

At the same time two more emerged from the opposite side of the house wearing similar style masks, only one looked like an ugly green witch and another a vintage, rubber skeleton.

The two of you looked from side to side.

"Happy Halloween Jooooeeel," the pumpkin head greeted.

"Leave us alone!" You shouted. "Vic Champagne!"

All three of them erupted into a chorus of laughter.

You reached a hand into the pocket of your sweatshirt and discreetly hit the passcode on your phone before managing to blindly dial 9-1-1. You used your phone so much that you were almost certain that your fingers hit the correct places on the screen.

Without drawing attention to yourself, your thumb tapped the red button at the bottom and you kept it hidden between your hands in the front, oversized pouch.

"What you gunna do with that fire poker?" The witch asked in a muffled, male voice. He laughed right after and slowly paced his way toward Joel with almost no urgency.

Without truly knowing if the 9-1-1 operator had picked up, you just start rattling off Joel's address over and over again. It caused two of the three assailants to look in your direction.

Joel was to focused on the witch, who continued to pursue him with an eerie patience.

"Shut up!" Shouted Pumpkinhead. You knew from his voice this time that it was Vic behind that mask. Still, you didn't obey as you prayed someone was actually on the other end of the line.

Finally, you pulled the phone from your pocket and felt a small hint of relief amidst the immediate panic. The call had gone through and you brought it to your ear.

"Help! We need help at the address I gave you." You panicked, not actually knowing what their intentions were. "We have three intruders-"

The phone was knocked away from your hand by the skeleton who you hadn't seen charging at you from the right side. When you went sprawling to the ground Joel shouted out a string of profanities and ran toward you, only to be tackled from behind by the witch.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 18

@untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @grogusmum @ghostwritesthings @strawbunnyx @ayamenimthiriel @noisynightmarepoetry @jiminstinypinky @tuquoquebrute @pedr0swh0r3 3 @runningmom94 @mellymbee

[deathmetalunicorn1]

What if the RoR characters turn into children and teen!reader basically have to take care of them for a week until whatever cause it wear off? And how do they react after they turned back into adults? Bonus point reader tell them that she never getting kids after having them for a week (she exhausted).

-It had been six days, six hellish days since the accident in Tesla’s lab that affected everyone in your shared home of your adoptive family.

-You were the only one unaffected as you hadn’t been home.

-When you arrived home to the sound of screaming and crying of what sounded like children, the last thing you expected to find was that your whole family were now toddlers!!

-You could only stare, finding the house trashed from their antics and you quickly had to run over to pull Lu Bu and Raiden apart as they had been fighting.

-You first made, basically, a corral in the living room, pushing the couches together to make a pit and your quickly ran around, finding the toddler members of your family and putting them in the pit.

-It took you over a half hour to find everyone, as Hermes had crawled on top of the fridge and you had to get a chair to get him down, and Zeus who was hiding under his bed in his room.

-Once everyone was accounted for and you broke up two more fights, you all but collapsed to your knees, your mind reeling, questioning how this could have happened!!

-After finding the charred remains of Tesla’s room, you were able to figure out what had happened, a failed experiment that went very, very badly.

-You had no idea how long this was going to take to wear off, if it even did, you were only sixteen!! You didn’t know how to take care of one baby, let alone 21, by yourself!

-It had taken so long just to get them calmed down to at least nap so you could clean up at least a bit of their mess.

-You didn’t make it very far before Jack started crying, which woke many of the others up, getting some of them crying as well.

-You wanted to cry too as you climbed into the corral and started to hug and soothe the crying toddlers, trying to stay calm yourself.

-You struggled to get them all fed, as they were unable to sit at the table, and you didn’t want to release them from the corral as you knew they would go wild through the house and you didn’t want to have to chase them down.

-Six days later, you had barely slept, the house was still in disarray as you hadn’t been able to do more than clean just a little bit. The laundry was piled up as you couldn’t keep up with the messy kids, boxes of takeout were everywhere as they had eaten most of the food in the house and you couldn’t leave them unattended and you sure as hell weren’t taking them out, so you had to order food in.

-You felt like you were borderline full blown panic attack meltdown as you tried to clean some of the dishes that piled up, bagging up the empty boxes of take out when you heard a crash from the living room.

-You felt the tears well as you felt so close to snapping, “Lu Bu! I swear if you’re climbing the curtains again I’m going to-” you froze, seeing everyone was back to normal, looking around the trashed house, wondering what had happened before you walked in, looking so pale and sickly looking.

-Your eyes were wide and you felt the tears finally fall, seeing that they were back to normal as Hades quickly had you in his arms as you sunk to your knees, sobbing loudly in relief, hugging him tightly.

-You explained, once you were calmed down, what had happened over the past six days, how you tried your best to take care of them by yourself.

-Not a single one of them was upset with you, hearing everything that had happened and they couldn’t expect you to keep the house clean and take care of all of them as well.

-You were sent to take a shower and go to bed and they took care of cleaning everything up around the house. They were in awe of how well you did try, and how responsible you had been as you couldn’t leave them alone without risking their safety.

-The following day it felt so good to see the house spotless and no toddlers around as you curled up in Hercules’ arm, wanting to be doted on after doting on others as Eve smiled, “So, Y/N, what did you think of having children?”

-With no hesitation you spoke, deathly serious, “I am never having kids. I’m gonna get a dog!” many were quickly howling in laughter as they know what you had dealt with, and your brutally honest answer was quite humorous, but you were serious, you were never going to have kids.

[snootlestheangel]

Cadere: To Fall

Super angsty SoapGhost one shot CW: light depictions of violence, implied sexual themes, Major Character Death

Ghost had fallen in love.

So desperately, madly in love.

He had fallen for John "Soap" MacTavish.

And he experienced bliss for once in his life. Bliss in the small touches that set his skin alight despite the layers of gear between their skin. Bliss in the stolen kisses and brief quiet moments.

Bliss in the way Johnny felt under his hands. Bliss in the way they fit together so perfectly, each carved to the other. Bliss in the way Johnny's whispered praises would send goosebumps crawling along his skin. Bliss in the soft feel of Johnny's lips as he kissed every inch of his body; reverent and delicate.

But right now, he had no time to linger on bliss.

Right now, he had to focus on getting back to the team alive and in one piece. He was separated over an hour ago, yet his uncanny ability to seemingly fade into the shadows gave him the advantage over the untrained hostiles he was facing. He moved slowly through the twisting halls of the facility, waiting patiently before striking each time, ensuring his back was covered each and every time.

Lethal and efficient were a deadly combination.

But it was slow progress, and he was running out of time to make it to exfil. So he was rushing, not paying attention to the details as he slashed his way through the building. He made it outside, towards the stone bridge he needed to cross. Exfil waited just on the other side.

He just needed to cross the bridge.

No more hostiles stood in his path, evidence his team had been providing cover fire of his only exit.

The trust he had placed in the team is unlike anything he's done before, and he feels a certain sense of satisfaction at being shown his trust was well-placed.

He just needed to cross the bridge and show their concern was well worth the resources.

Ghost was practically stumbling by the time he stepped foot on the old stone bridge. The adrenaline had started to wear off already, and the exhaustion was getting to him. It was a boring walk, one that allowed Ghost's mind to wander back to his place of bliss.

As if on cue, upon reaching the halfway point, Soap's face appeared along the tree line. Ghost stopped as their gazes met, and Soap's face instantly broke out into a grin so warm it brought a dead man back to life.

Oh how far Simon Riley had fallen for him.

The bridge violently shook as two small explosions rattled through the quiet air. The sudden wave of force knocked Ghost off his feet, effectively knocking the air out of him.

"Simon!" He heard the distant call, and he scrambled quickly to his feet. He felt he was walking on waves, the bridge shifting and collapsing in on itself.

The bloody thing was rigged.

Ghost began to ran the best he could, fighting against gravity as it pulls the bridge's stones towards the dry river below. Johnny was also running, running towards him, fear wild in his eyes.

Price was behind him, though. The captain knew.

And just as Ghost came close to the edge, the last stones of the bridge broke away, dragging him with them. He frantically swatted at the air, trying to make his hands meet Johnny's. But he was just out of reach.

Just out of reach of his bliss, his life and everything worthy in his miserable existence.

Price knew better than to let go of the strap on Soap's vest.

"SIMON!" The scream, hoarse and filled with something borderline inhuman, echoed around them. Echoed in Ghost's ears as he plummeted towards a painful end.

But Ghost closed his eyes as he fell, not willing to see fate.

After all, he had fallen for John "Soap" MacTavish.

[eliaswoodt]

Idea: Alastor and Heartless were childhood best friends.

Alastor has some sort of anemic condition which causes him to be incredibly physically weak and tired, because of this his parents kept him inside their mansion (or something similar) at all times. One day though, while he was reading in the garden, a little boy about two or three years younger than him stumbled into said garden. The little boy had dirty blonde hair, and striking blue eyes. The boy was energetic and so, so nice that Alastor couldn’t bring himself to alert any adult of the trespasser’s presence.

And this would be the start of a wonderful friendship.

The dirty blonde would sneak into the garden whenever he could, talking for hours upon hours with Alastor before having to go back home and leaving the anemic boy with a bright smile and a promise to visit another time. Sometimes, though, the dirty blonde boy and Alastor would leave the garden to explore around the premise of his house.

During one of those explorations, a magic user cornered the two kids, and tried to rob them but Alastor’s best friend threw a rock at them and took Alastor by the hand and ran. Sadly Alastor was never one for much physical activity so he didn’t last long in the chase, he ended up tripping and while the blonde boy was trying to get Alastor to start running again the bad wizard caught up and aimed their magic at the two, the boy pushed Alastor out of the way and told him to run as far as he could.

And Alastor did.

Alastor ran.

And he never saw the dirty blonde haired, blue eyed boy ever again.

Alastor has always had a violent hatred for magic users ever since.

Eventually the dirty blonde, blue eyed kid becomes the Heartless we know and love. (This does mean that when Heartless became undead, his dirty blonde hair became a yellow-borderlining-on-white color and his eyes went from bright blue to bright yellow).

[coneheda]

50

50 "in my defense, I really wanted to."

“Uh Lex? We might have a problem.” Anya says, pulling her out of her day dream. Lexa groans as she gets up from her desk. The last three hours of her day could not be going any slower, all she wants to do is go home and lock herself in her room with her girlfriend who’s finally coming to visit. Okay, it hasn’t been that long since they’ve seen each other- Lexa was just there for work two weeks ago- but any amount of time spent apart is torture. Hopefully whatever the problem is, it can resolve itself quickly. 

“What is it?” She asks, but there’s no need to wait for a verbal answer when she looks over her colleague's shoulder and sees the alert popped up on the screen. Her chest tightens as her heart rate speeds up. This has to be a mistake.

“You ran a background check right?” Anya asks. Lexa ignores her in favor of shoving her out of the way to take over the monitor. Suspect detained. Potential bomb threat. Terrorism. The words swirl around her head as she reads them. But It’s not the words that have ice running through her veins, no in her line of work they’re a common place, but the face attached to them? That’s something she never would have seen coming.

With shaky hands she pulls up the security feed, taking in the small figure hunched over a table, hands cuffed together but still able to clench themselves in disheveled hair. Lexa stares at the image, trying to understand how she missed something this big. It’s only when she sees what the detainee is wearing that she jumps up.

“Oh fuck.” She scrambles to grab her belongings and races up to her boss's office.

_____

Clarke likes flying. Likes seeing the world from a new perspective. Likes people watching while she waits for her flight. Likes the fact that she can cross the country in a matter of hours instead of days. She even likes the overpriced food, it’s all part of the experience. 

Correction, Clarke liked flying. It’s going to be a long time before she sets foot in another airport. 

It had started off a normal travel day. Arriving three hours early, a habit her mom had ingrained into her, even though she knows she doesn't need half that to get through security and get to her gate with more than enough time to spare. 

She even remembered to mail her surprise to her girlfriends to prevent any potential embarrassment that could have come up had it gone through the scanner. 

So when she was randomly selected and her hands swabbed, she thought nothing of it. It’s happened a handful of times before and she just waits patiently while they run their test. 

When that test came back positive and she was roughly escorted to a small room with no windows and interrogated for the next two hours? All patience and calmness were sucked out of her, replaced by anxiety and confusion. Honestly it’s a good thing she went to the bathroom before queuing up for security otherwise she would be physically shitting herself instead of just mentally. 

She has no idea how explosive residue got on her hands or the trace amounts they found on her bag. They keep asking her what the target is, where the bomb is, what it’s made of, if she’s working alone. For the first five minutes she questioned whether their test was faulty or she somehow switched bodies with someone, maybe it was all some sort of sick joke. But the questions kept coming and the people asking them kept getting scarier looking.

The next time the door opens she doesn’t lift her head up from the table. Her tears have long since dried up and her fear has morphed into anger. 

“Oh my god Clarke!” Lexa rushes over to girlfriend. Startled eyes take her in as she smooths down blonde locks. “Baby I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” 

Clarke feels borderline delirious after the last few hours, enough to momentarily question whether or not who she’s seeing is real, but quickly shakes it off and allows herself to be lifted from the chair. The cuffs are removed and Lexa wraps an arm around her to guide her out of the hell box.

The scary people hand over all her belongings and don’t try to stop them from leaving. It’s a complete 180 from ten minutes ago when they told her she was facing life in prison.

Clarke doesn’t even realize they’ve left the airport until she’s being buckled into a car. 

“Clarke?” Lexa asks, concern evident in her tone.

“What the fuck just happened?” Clarke says in disbelief.

“We need to talk.”

“Oh great, first I’m accused of terrorism and now I’m being dumped fan-fucking-tastic. I swear I don’t even know what you need to make a bomb let alone how to build one. I don’t know how it got on-”

“Clarke.” Lexa cuts her off, “I’m not breaking up with you, you might want to dump me after hearing what I have to say, but I really hope you don’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Clarke asks and oh how Lexa loves the little furrow between her brows.

“It’s my fault.” Lexa tells her “You’re wearing my sweatshirt and I assume you pulled it from the hamper instead of washing it.”

“So?” Clarke asks the furrow getting a little deeper. 

Lexa takes a deep breath. “Well it had explosive residue on it…”

Clarke blinks. Once. Twice. “I’m sorry what? Why would your sweatshirt have- are you a terrorist??”

“No of course not!” Lexa hastily puts a stop to that train of thought. “No, I- it was a work training thing and I put it after and didn’t think about the fact that you might wear it before washing it let alone try to go through any sort of security with it on.”

“A work thing? What kind of foreign policy advisor work involves explosives!” Clarke says in exasperation. She looks at her girlfriends guilty expression. “That’s not actually what you do, is it?”

Lexa shakes her head, “No. Although I know enough about it to tell people, so it could be?” 

Clarke is quiet for what feels like hours to Lexa, but is really more like a minute. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I can’t believe I believed you. You’re terrible at lying! At least I thought you were, is that all an act?”

“In my defense I really wanted to. Tell you that is, but I couldn’t unless we were married and no it’s not an act. My job is the only thing I’m good at fudging the truth about. At least when it comes to you.” Lexa explains

“So why tell me now? We’re not married. Am I going to have to go live in a cave somewhere?”

Lexa laughs “no nothing like that. You’ll just have to sign a few forms and promise your first born to the government.” Clarke glares at her. “Okay okay, I’m serious about the paperwork though. My boss gave me the green light due to the circumstances and because I hope that one day we will be married, if you’ll still have me that is, but no one else can know.” 

Clarke can’t stop the flutter in her chest at the word married. Even if part of her is still angry at the whole situation, the idea of marrying Lexa is something she hasn’t stopped thinking about since they got together.

“Are we okay?” Lexa asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

Clarke sighs, letting the chaos melt away. “We’re okay.” She snuggles into Lexas side. “If you didn’t want me wearing your clothes all you had to do was say something.” She grumps. “You’re really going to have to make this up to me and do all the flying for the foreseeable future.” 

[sneverussape]

For the character ask game!

I'd love to hear your thoughts on Severus, Lily, Tobias, and Eileen (and Tuney if you want to!) each for 5, 6, 12, 24, and, if it isn't too much, 44!

EHEHEHE <3

5. Best personality trait

tobias: at his best, tobias snape was painfully selfless. he was the type of person who would give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it and wouldn't take no for an answer. he also didn't need any fanfare, an audience, or even permission to do what he did, which sometimes drove eileen to the brink after she discovered toby had spent the last of their money buying bread and milk for someone else again. but toby always justified it by saying "leenie luv, they need it more than we do."

(not that it helped their own needs in any case, but this wasn't something that concerned toby as he just went out and turned on the charm so that he could earn a crown or two off of the older neighbors by doing odd jobs for them)

eileen: eileen prince was one of the cleverest pupils hogwarts ever had, not because she was book-smart but because she knew how to find practical applications for even the most basic spells they learned, even as a first-year. she had a knack for knowing which spells to combine to come up with an entirely new charm or hex, and never ran out of questions. flitwick was deeply impressed with her, but also borderline wary of her skill. eileen didn't fear unknown magics and spent many nights experimenting within the four curtained walls of her bed (reinforced with shielding charms), hours after lights-out. this boldness earned the attention of several of her housemates, namely one abraxas malfoy and one tom riddle...not that she noticed, at least not right away.

severus: much like his da, severus had a soft spot for people in need. he was especially compassionate to muggles, moreso than towards wizards, although he would never admit it. all his cokeworth neighbors still called him "toby and leen's boy" or "russ" and he spent much of his time discreetly helping them out with housework or errands. he would be gruff and recalcitrant with them on the outside, but one day they would wake up and their roof would have been patched up or their fences fixed so that no foxes could get through, and severus would find some freshly baked irish soda bread or some shortbread on his front porch with a note to return the plate 'next time you come round'.

lily: lily was a survivor, much like how all cokeworth residents learned to be. she lied, cheated, and stole her way through childhood to make sure her and her loved ones' needs were met, and often shared her spoils with severus (sometimes tuney). she knew how to reframe unpleasant situations into something that would make them far more palatable, and which helped ease the mind of everyone else around her. lily was a gifted storyteller and her talent of spinning much happier realities was a boon to anyone who would hear them. she could convince anyone of anything if she was in the right mood, and the wielded her words with great care (until...she didn't).

petunia: petunia had a great capacity for love and loved her family, especially her sister, deeply. she also loved the grimy little boy who tailed her like a shadow and whom she also often got stuck with watching. she gave them both a lot of leeway and covered a lot of their tracks for them. she couldn't count how many times she had to make up excuses for both lily's and severus' boisterous behavior whenever they got in the mood to create trouble. she was naturally protective of them, and deep inside felt a sense of relief that they both had a chance of making something better of their lives due to the both of them being magical. was she jealous? yes. but was she glad at least lily had a chance? also yes.

6. Worst personality trait

tobias: he never did anything in moderation, and never really knew when to stop. this resulted in him running himself ragged a lot of the time and also testing the limits of everyone around him. only eileen could somehow rein him in, but a lot of the time he was bullheaded about whatever it was he was doing. toby always believed that what he was doing was best, and could rarely be swayed from his path.

eileen: easily lost patience when things didn't meet her standards (which was often, at least in the wizarding world; in the muggle world she was a bit more withdrawn, but her ire appeared in other ways) and had a beast of a temper. the scorch marks she had left in the slytherin dungeons were so intense, even the elves couldn't scrub them out.

severus: forget voldemort, severus was his own worst enemy. he thought everyone but himself deserved better. he would fight for anyone whose rights were being trampled, but would draw the line when it was him needing the assistance. he would fix everyone else's crumbling roofs and sagging porches and leave his own to wither and rot. the amount of self-flagellation he would give himself could have made him a mid-century martyr.

lily: quite vindictive and could think up and execute the nastiest revenge plots if she thought they deserved it. the bowles boy who had pushed severus to the ground and had nearly wrenched his arm out of his socket? the gossip was the branch he had been standing on as he was climbing the massive oak tree by the river had suddenly cracked and split and had thrown him arse over teakettle into the water. he had nearly drowned. but he had been up there because he'd been spying on lily and severus who had been playing by the banks. so who was the one in the wrong, really? she had told him to stay away.

petunia: that saying "pride goeth before the fall" is the embodiment of petunia. petunia never admitted she was wrong, and never apologized for anything. for her they were acts of extreme vulnerability and that was something she couldn't bear. cokeworth was not a place that was kind on people who allowed themselves to be vulnerable, and she carried that into adulthood. she preferred burying everything in denial.

12. Crack headcanon

tobias: had an unwavering and almost childlike belief in father christmas that he had tried to instill in his son, but severus was his mother's child in many ways and even as a young lad, vehemently refused to believe in the existence of a man who flew all over the world and visited other people's houses "like a common thief". (he didn't bring up the notion that maybe father christmas was actually a wizard and so he was likely apparating in and out of places; mam had already warned him that da didn't know of those things and they had to keep it secret a little bit longer).

eileen: more than once had tried to experiment with making draught of the living death (on the sly) out of her husband's unwashed socks. she figured if something smelt that bad it was worthy enough to be used as an ingredient for a restricted-class potion.

severus: had the loudest and most bombastic sneezes and rarely covered his mouth for them.

lily: stole clothes from her sister to bring to hogwarts because she was embarrassed by her limited wardrobe. the girls in gryffindor already made fun of her for her accent and how she didn't know certain wizarding things (why on earth would she have known that talking mirrors actually existed in the wizarding world?), she didn't need to give them more fodder.

petunia: had a really good singing voice and that's what got vernon's attention and how they first met. (she was singing at a pub he was at and was utterly enthralled by her)

24. Most annoying habit

tobias: talking to the priest after mass to provoke him into a theological debate or hash out the finer points of his homily when severus only wanted to go home.

eileen: reverting to silence when she meant to praise. toby was more open with his affections, and made sure he voiced them. eileen voiced criticisms more.

severus: shed his clothes like a snake all over his private quarters, especially when he was deep in thought. lucius malfoy tried his best to break him off the habit during his first year, but the other boys thought it more amusing to bet on where snape would leave his next article of clothing as he paced around the room muttering about that day's lessons. the fascinating thing was snape never left something in the same place twice!

lily: ate off of other people's plates despite having food of her own. somehow everyone else's food always looked more appetizing.

petunia: sucked at her teeth to clean them.

44. Their happiest memory

tobias: severus' birth and meeting his son for the first time, after having expected it to be another miscarriage.

eileen: when severus questioned a charm she was teaching him for the first time and she was stunned into silence at how insightful and sensible his question actually was. the relief that her son wasn't only magical but also not an idiot was one that made her feel strangely warm inside.

severus: when lily tossed the little wanker iain bowles into the river with what he knew was not accidental but untrained magic. the thrill that had come with knowing it had been her (although she had lied about it) and that she had done it for him because he was her friend was seared into his memory like a scar.

lily: i realize harry's birth or something related to him would be a logical choice, but i also choose to believe that one of her happiest memories was likely something that involved severus in the years before hogwarts, before they were driven apart. perhaps sharing a single creme egg on a hilltop on an easter afternoon, relishing all the good things they had at that moment and just enjoying each other's company. the peaceful quiet of a life that they knew well enough of, despite not having much.

petunia: saving all the money she had earned singing at the pubs and gifting lily with a set of new clothes to wear at school one christmas. the look on her sister's face was priceless and one she would never forget for the rest of her life.

[thebiggestfuckgiven]

Ectoberweek 25: Will-o’-Wisps

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of death, of being buried alive, descriptions of gore, brief mention of vivisection, true crime-esque horror, and general spooky vibes

A/N: I really wanted to do a lil something for the spooky month and what better to write than something for the fandom i’ve been sickeningly hyperfixated on for the past four months. Actual prompt had a two-sentence prompt as well, and i went with both <3

- 💜 -

October 2004

The things everybody tells you about small towns- everyone knows each other, ni things big happens, every day is a slow day, and the biggest local teen hotspots are the walmart parking lot or the big chain pharmacy/corner store —are true. The thing that everyone knows about small towns except for the majority of the people living in said town is that their minds are as small as the local post office.

This is especially true of the teens of Casper High in Amity Park, Illinois.

Sam’s black combat boots stomped against the warm pavement as she ran for the next block. Her breathing was ragged, coming out in harsh puffs of air in the autumn cold. She had gotten an SOS text message from Tucker seconds before the last bell rung.

Normally, she didn’t take the Foley kid very serious. They didn’t know each other that well and they barely hung out save for the couple of school projects they’ve worked on together and those rare lunch hour occasions where he’d sit at her table uninvited. Usually to avoid Dash, Kwan and the rest of their jock entourage.

She stumbled to a stop at a crossroads borderline wheezing. Running was so not her forte. Maybe it was cruel of her, but Same fully intended to ignore his SOS. That is, until she saw Tweedledumb (Dash) and Tweedledumber (Kwan) shove a screaming Tucker into their run-down jeep and speed off.

Hence, why Same was ruining her sickly goth pallor by chasing after them.

She glanced to her left just in time to see the run-down jeep screech to a halt. Christ, the stabbing in her sides was killing her. Sue her for walking. The jeep wasn’t going anywhere anymore. She stumbled a few steps, feet burning, as she held a hand to her sides like that would help her.

Dash jumped out from the passenger side, Kwan following shortly after, from the driver’s side. They opened the back doors on each side, where Tucker was. They cornered him. Dash reached in and was soon pulling Tucker out by his feet. Sam could hear his scream now.

“C’mon, guys, please just leave me alone! Let me go, Dash!”

The Wonder Jocks laughed in response. Kwan slammed his door shut, confident that Dash had Tucker handled now that he was out of the car. Kwan rushed to the sidewalk to roughly grab Tucker’s free arm.

“Guys, this isn’t funny!”

Sam was halfway down the street now and she dreaded the idea of having to run again to keep those two muscle-headed idiots from beating the crap out of the geek that for some reason imprinted on her. Ugh, caring for people was overrated anyways. She could still walk away. Save herself the hassle. No one care about her in this stupid town anyways. So, why should she care?

She slowed to a stop. Her feet ached.

Dash and Kwan were dragging Tucker towards the street corner, which just confused Sam, amidst her inner turmoil. Why even drag Tucker all the way out to his own neighborhood? His house was literally a street away, and there wasn’t even a bare-bones playground here. So what—

“No, no! Don’t put me in there, Dash, Kwan, please! Just let me go, guys, it’s not funny!”

Sam felt a sharp chill run down her spine. Something heavy dropped in the pit of her stomach at the sudden realization of where, exactly, they were.

“Shit.”

She broke off into a sprint as fast as she could.

Shithsitshitshit.

Another thing about small towns is that they all have a well-kept secret. A dark past, usually. Sam found that she thrives on such darkness; on those unwanted and discarded things. As it turned out, Amity Park had a surprising amount of those. She made it her personal business to grow intimate with her town’s buried gutter.

The things she learned were both shocking and, for all her boasting, a little horrifying. Things that would be permanently burned into her retinas. Unseeable and unforgettable. So, she scolded herself for not realizing sooner where they were dragging Tucker to. She would’ve run a little faster, cared a little more, if she had.

She zoomed past the jeep and turned the corner so sharply she nearly fell flat on her face.

Tucker wasn’t screaming anymore, but there were tears streaming down his face as he stared in terror at the behemoth of a house towering over them.

In all its abandoned, festering glory: the infamous Fenton House. Even in bright daylight, the house was obscured in awkward elongated shadows, made worse by the house’s freaky, Frankenstein-esque structure. As if imitating a child’s building blocks tower, there were partial structures jutting out of the house’s main body. They creaked in the cold wind, threatening to snap off and crush any trespassers. At the very top, there was a round dome of sorts with something resembling letters across it. They were black with rot now. Unreadable.

Sam wasn’t a fearful person, but she was a believer. The Fenton House was more than haunted. She’s read enough testimonies to not take it lightly. People have gone missing in that house. Hell, they’ve been found dead in there. She may not be friendly with Tucker, but that didn’t mean she was about to leave him to a tragic fate.

Body running on a sudden burst of adrenaline, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find (a sizable stick) and marched towards the two jocks.

“Hey!”

All three of the boys turned to look at her. She stood two steps below them, resolutely ignoring the way the house seemed to want to swallow them whole. Tucker’s terrified face shifted into one of pure relief. A new wave of tears was visibly threatening to spill over.

“Sam,” he croaked.

Dash barked out a laugh.

“Samantha Manson? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, wanna help us lock this dweeb in the Fenton House?” Kwan smiled brightly, pointing at Tucker.

Sam scowled. People always confused her apathy for cruelty. She hated it.

“It’s Sam, and like hell I do. Drop the nerd, assholes, or else,” she said, pitching her voice lower in an attempt to sound intimidating.

Maybe she should’ve spent her time running thinking up a plan instead of hating on Tucker for making her run in the first place. She clutched the stick in her hand tightly.

Kwan scoffed.

“No way. I just said we’re gonna lock him in the house.”

“Yeah! We wanna know what happens when you put a techno dweeb with murder ghosts,” Dash said, smiling cruelly at a Tucker.

“He short-circuits. It’s not impressive. Let him go.”

Dash must’ve realized, finally, that Sam was being serious. He narrowed his eyes at her, the stick in her hand, and smiled.

“Or what? You’re gonna hit us with the creep stick? Ha. Last I checked, Sam, girls don’t have the balls to pull that off, so why don’t you get lost and forget you were ever here,” Dash said before adding to Kwan, “And Paulina says I’m not a gentleman.”

It was Sam’s turn to smile. She went up a step as she spoke.

“Like any girl would let you get that close, Dash. Besides, I promise mine are bigger than yours. Here, I’ll prove it.”

Before he even had time to blink, Sam jabbed the stick hard into Dash’s crotch. A gentlemanly oof broke past his lips and he let go of Tucker’s arm to clutch at his wounded pride.

“Augh, bitch.”

Kwan also let go of Tucker to check on his friend. Sam didn’t waste a second and grabbed Tucker’s hand.

“Run.”

They bolted down the stairs, Tucker nearly slamming into her from the sudden force.

“Sam, I didn’t think— I mean— shit, thank you. I thought- Ah!”

“Shit. Let me go, jackass!”

They had barely cleared the Fenton House’s shadow when a large, thick arm slammed into Sam and Tucker’s bellies as Kwan— just Kwan —grabbed them by the waist and lifted them up.

Note-to-self: never piss off a linebacker.

Sam knew Dahs and Kwan were big for their age, being football players and all, but jesus fuck this was insane.

She kicked and punched for her freedom, but either rage was a hell of a pain nullifier or her punches were child’s play.

Crap, and she dropped the stick when he grabbed them. Just her luck.

“You better let us go right now, Kwan!”

“Or what?”

He was effortlessly taking them up the stairs and— oh that’s the door.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, they— they can’t actually lock us in. There’s no key. We-we can just leave,” Tucker whispered, panicked.

“You don’t know much about the Fenton House, do you?”

Sam’s voice was small. She felt small.

They were about to be locked in a horror house.

Dash opened the door. Sam didn’t even see him get there.

“Sayonara, losers. Have fun in the Fenton House.”

The world tilted and blurred for a split second, Sam’s stomach lurching at the weightless sensation, before she and Tucker landed hard on the linoleum floor. Pain shot up her elbow and hip. Beside her, Tucker groaned.

“If you even make it the whole night! Ha!”

Bam!

Tucker scrambled up at once, but as soon as his hand touched the doorknob a sound like a lock sliding into place echoed throughout the empty house.

“Wha…”

Sam waited with bated breath. Then—

A low droning sound buzzed across the floor, seeping through Sam’s hands in an odd pins-and-needles sensation. Red emergency lights flickers throughout the house, bathing everything in muddy crimson, and the droning sound was replaced by the most horrifying screech of twenty-year-old rusted metal scraping against itself.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Thick sheets of metal began dropping over every conceivable entry. Including the windows and, of course, the door. Sam pulled Tucker back by the collar of his shirt just in time to keep his hand attached.

Tucker yelped, clutching his hand close.

“What the fuck—”

Warbled, distorted speech boomed from somewhere in the house, the voice and the words long ruined by time. It was like someone was trying to speak underwater. The message was only a few seconds long, but it was disgustingly haunting. Sam knew exactly what it said.

Ghost attack imminent. Fenton Security measure Christmas Ham activated.

If she remembered correctly, the measure lasted six hours. But the last time it was activated (that anyone knows of) was five years ago. Who knew how much the technology had deteriorated at this point. They could be here for a whole day.

Sam broke from her thoughts to glance at a hyperventilating Tucker. She couldn’t blame him. The Fenton House was creepy enough on the outside. Inside? With flickering red lights? Sam was making an active effort not to throw up from the fear writhing in her intestines.

The shadows kept moving in the corner of her eyes, she swore she kept seeing a green glow (but she couldn’t tell where from), and it was freezing cold. Colder than it was outside, which should be impossible, but it was the Fenton House. Impossible was inconsequential.

Sam shuddered. They had to find a way out.

“Tucker—”

“Sam- ohmygodSam- this is- I mean what the fuck was that? We’re literally trapped here. In a tomb with linoleum floors. Shit, and you’re trapped, too, cuz of me. I shouldn’t have sent you that text. Fuck it I shouldn’t have flunked Dash’s essay. Now we’re gonna die here and—”

“Tucker!”

Sam grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. Their eyes met, both wide with incessant panic.

“Calm down,” she spoke slowly. Tucker gulped and nodded shakily.

“Okay, okay, yeah.”

“Breathe. You’re good with computers and stuff, right?”

Tucker scoffed, but more in a self-deprecative way rather than an offended one.

“Sure am. It’s what gets me in trouble, isn’t it?”

Sam shook him again.

“Forget that. We need good with computers. The Fentons were notorious for their unorthodox advancements in technology. Supposedly had patents on really futuristic shit. Most of it buried, obviously. But they were good enough that their security system still activates nearly twenty years after their departure.”

Ridiculously good, she thought bitterly.

There was a moment of weighted silence as they looked around the house. The lights, the rusted yet intact panels over the windows. It was eerily quiet. She stepped a bit closer to Tucker, who thankfully didn’t say anything about it.

“Yeah, alright, okay,” he muttered to himself before clearing his throat. “The-there should be, uh, a circuit breaker somewhere. We could cut off the power—”

“Won’t work,” Sam stated, eyes furtively glancing around them. She had the weirdest sensation they were being watched. “The town cut the power away from the Fenton House ages ago. It runs on some kind of external power source, but nobody knows what.”

Sam kinda hoped they didn’t get to find out.

“Shit. Man, what the fuck. Who the fuck were these people?”

Sam let out a manic sort of laugh. The hysteria was boiling up in her like toxic chemicals.

“Do you want the short answer or the long one?”

“I have a feeling we’re gonna be here a while. Long answer?”

A pause.

“We should find a way out.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved an inch. They stood in the middle of the living room. A trashed one at that. Although, looking closely from where they were, the whole house looked trashed. Wasn’t the place SWATted?

She spotted a flash of green in the hallway, right there in the corner of her eye, and snapped her head towards it with a small gasp. There was nothing there.

“Hey,” Tucker said softly. “Let’s check out the windows for loose panels or something and you can tell me about the Fentons’ own loose panels.”

Her mouth went dry, but she nodded.

“Sounds good, yeah. So, uh, what do you know about the Fentons?”

Tucker shrugged and went towards the first window, by the door. Sam followed closely by. He didn’t mention it.

“What everyone else knows. Mad scientists who went so crazy after their son’s disappearance that they tried to summon him from the afterlife. They got so obsessed that they never left the house and just, died here, waiting for their son to come back. Pretty sad.”

That window was a bust. So was the next, as well as the door. They ventured into the hallway. There were a few square and rectangle imprints on the walls, but only one hanging frame left. With a picture. Hands shaking, Sam reached up and snagged the picture from where it was, careful not to cut herself on what was left of the glass.

It was a family picture. A wall of a man stood at the back with a practiced, dashing smile. To his left and a little below him was a woman with short, bright red hair. They were both in brightly colored hazmat suits, goggles hanging around their necks.

In front of them were two teens. A girl with bright red hair as well, but styled much longer. Next to her was a boy, younger and slightly shorter than her, with black hair. They were all smiling wide and bright, except for the boy. His was more hesitant, not quite reaching his eyes.

Sam pointed at the young girl.

“Did you know the Fentons had a daughter, too?”

Tucker’s eyebrows went up slightly.

“No… Something tells me I won’t like why.”

“You won’t. Um, kitchen?”

Sam saw another green flash and was anxious to get away from it. They bee-lined to the kitchen, and Tucker checked the windows there.

“So… There’s a few things you got right. The Fentons—” Sam pointed at the two adults in the picture “—were renowned scientists. They did some impressive breakthroughs. Like the kind they still teach in universities, but with a disclaimer attached. The more they went into their work, though, the more obsessed they got…” she trailed off in a whisper, tensing.

The house was creaking.

Tucker stopped in his tracks, too, eyes wide but lips pressed tightly together.

Nothing happened. The house stopped creaking.

Tucker let out a slow breath, eyeing the cabinets.

“Think there’s anything edible left around?”

She glared at him sharply.

“If you open any fridge or cabinet doors, I’m leaving you here alone. This place is bad enough, we don’t need to add rats or rotted food to the list.”

Tucker pouted but conceded.

“Fine, I’ll just starve. Keep telling me about the creepy doctors and their stupid creepy house while we check upstairs.”

Sam sighed in temporary relief. She didn’t think she could handle seeing a fridge full of maggots. Even if it has been almost twenty years.

They continued up the stairs, carefully, and Sam went on with the Fenton tragedy.

“The Fentons started growing obsessed with other dimensions. Specifically… the afterlife, and its inhabitants.”

“Like… ghosts?”

Sam nodded.

“Exactly like. They became convinced they could create a doorway into the afterlife, at the cost of their reputation. They got ostracized by the academic community once they started referring to themselves as ‘ecto-scientists’.”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t. Bunch’a wackos,” Tucker muttered as they ventured into an organized room with cool colors. Light blue walls, light green bed sheets coated in blankets of dust, so the only reason Sam knew they were light green was because she’s seen pictures of what the room looked like twenty years ago. She ignored the uneven pattern of small dark spots on the wall.

It was the girl’s room. Jasmine Fenton’s.

Tucker went straight for the window, but Sam hung back near the entrance.

“They didn’t actually open a doorway, right?”

His voice broker her out of her thoughts. She blinked.

“Hm? Oh, uh, allegedly, yeah.”

This house probably sat on an open portal. There probably was an infestation of something murderous in it. Sam shook the thought away. She’ll drive herself crazy worrying about that.

“Supposedly,” she continued. “The doorway was one of their patents. They had the science backing it up and everything. But they… There were rumors, around the time the supposedly opened the doorway, that there was an accident in the house involving their youngest. Daniel Fenton.”

Tucker frowned at the blocked window. A bust. They made their way to the next room. A queen bed bare of any bedsheets, and a large chest of drawers with an equally large mirror attached to it. The Fentons’ room. It had an extra window.

“What happened to Daniel?”

Sam shuddered, goosebumps breaking out across her arms. The room got colder, so much colder than it had been. A soft crackling sound broke out, like frost taking over with a vengeance. She opened her mouth to speak but her breath got stuck in her throat.

She closed her mouth. Breathe. Another flash of green, this one brighter than the others. Breathe. It was so cold, her teeth started chattering.

“T-t-t-tucker—”

“Y-ye-yeah, I’m-m ignoring it,” he said simply, tugging at the panels.

Fuck, how can he ignore this. Sam was so uncomfortable, consumed by such a sudden unease, she wanted to claw off her skin. She tried to ignore it anyways.

“Daniel— jesus I’m freezing —he was out of school a couple of days after neighbors heard a scream. That same night, the power went out in the whole town, except for the Fenton House.”

The freezing cold seeped away, leaving behind a frost pattern that didn’t melt on the mirror despite the warming room. Sam blew out a breath, sending out a silent thanks.

She frowned, unsure why she did that.

“A lot of people theorize,” she went in, rubbing the remaining cold in her fingertips away. “That one of two things happened that night. One, a backfired experiment drove the Fentons all the way crazy to the point that they started experimenting on both their kids, thinking they were ghosts.”

“Wait, both of—”

“Two, Daniel died because of said backfired experiment and his parents somehow managed to either bring him or his ghost back.”

None of the windows opened. They started for the next room.

“That’s… actually insane. And what do you mean, both their kids?” Tucker stopped for a moment, meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Did something happen to their daughter, too?”

Sam pressed her lips into a thin line. That’s the part rarely anyone knew about the Fenton horrors. Daniel wasn’t their only kid. He certainly wasn’t their only victim.

“I’ll get there,” she replied instead, looking away. “It only gets worse.”

“Christ,” he muttered.

They walked onwards.

“A couple of weeks after that, Daniel disappeared. But in those weeks, the Fentons became obsessive, borderline manic, with ghosts. Their nature, their morality. How to trap them, contain them… kill them.”

They were nearing then end of the hallway, where the last room was.

Tucker shuddered, sporting his own goosebumps.

“I don’t like the way you said that.”

Sam grimaced, sticking close to him once more.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. What’s worse, the Fentons called off the search party after just one night. They claimed they didn’t want false hope, they just wanted to lay their son to rest. They buried an empty casket, and Daniel hadn’t even been missing three full days.”

Her voice was hollow.

“Shit. They…”

“Killed their own son because they were convinced he was a ghost? Most likely,” she said bitterly. As far as true crime went, Amity Park’s dark secret was the worst she’s ever read.

Neither said a word. For one long minute, intentionally or not, they remained quiet, mulling over the terror a kid must feel when they realize their own parents saw them as something to be killed. And to think, they were standing in the house where it happened. Where two parents killed their son. Allegedly.

And their daughter…

As if reading her mind, Tucker quietly asked, “What about the girl? It gets worse doesn’t it?”

Sam swallowed, her mouth dry and throat sore.

“They—” she sighed. “After their son ‘becoming a ghost’, they got paranoid. Extremely so. If one of their kids was a ghost… They couldn’t stand the idea of having an imposter in their own home. There were reports of screams two nights after the funeral. Like, really awful screaming that went on for nearly an hour, I think. Authorities broke into the house after multiple calls to find the Fentons in the basement and their daughter on a table just… cut open. She died before the paramedics could get to her.”

Again, neither said another word. Sam wished she’d run faster. Hit Dash harder. This house was tainted in blood and betrayal.

Tucker clutched at his chest and Sam realized his breathing was short and sparse. Crap.

“Tucker—”

“I fucking,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Hate that we’re here. We’re trapped in like they were, but they— Fuck, they were kids. Their kids. Who does that.”

“Tucker, breathe,” Sam insisted lowly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, but only got a few gasps of air.

“I’ve been t-trying to hold it together but I just can’t— what if we can’t find a way out. What if we die here.”

“We’re not gonna die here,” she stated fiercely despite being unsure of it herself. “If the windows are a no go then we’ll just find a way to deactivate the security system, okay? We’ll be fine.”

Tucker nodded again, quiet.

It took another few minutes until he finally got his breathing under control. Sam squeezed his arm comfortingly, giving him a small smile. They’ll make it.

He returned the smile without a word and turned to the last room. They had windows to check.

She suspected it was Daniel’s room. It was the only one they hadn’t seen yet. Tucker tried to turn the knob but it didn’t budge. She frowned. Weird… thinking about it, all the other rooms had been wide open.

“Rusted?”

Tucker shook his head, shaking off another involuntary shudder. Sam suppressed her own. It was getting colder again. Tucker tried again to open it. No dice. The knob wasn’t budging. He let go of it, hissing through his teeth as he rubbed his hands together.

“The metal is freezing. It, uh, must be something with the heating.”

Sam gave it a try and immediately drew her hand back. Freezing was an understatement. A second longer and she would’ve gotten the world’s worst case of freezer burn.

“Tucker, I don’t think we’re allowed to go in this room,” she whispered, hugging herself to keep warm.

He gave her a look like she was crazy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That’s Daniel Fenton’s room. All the other rooms were open but this one—”

“—is locked.”

“No. Look at the handle. There’s literal frost on it. There was frost on the mirror in the other room, too. I think—”

“If you say ghost.”

Sam glared at him.

“After everything I told you. Scratch that, haven’t you been feeling all the weird stuff in this house? The creaking, the frankly extreme cold spots, the fucking creepy green light!”

Tucker’s eyes went wide at that, mouth dropping open.

“I-I didn’t think you could see them. But that— that doesn’t mean—”

The house gave a violent creak, causing the floor to rumble threateningly. The temperature dropped drastically, covering the entire hallway in a light frost.

Sam’s teeth immediately started chattering from the cold.

“This is too much,” Tucker whispers, that underlying panic settling back in.

Impossibly, finally finally finally, they both saw the green flash at the other end of the hallway, flickering desperately before disappearing.

“Tuck,” Sam let out, mesmerized, overtaken by the overwhelming urge to follow that light. An itch she had to scratch, to claw at until it broke open. “He’s here.”

She didn’t know how she knew that, but she’s never spoken truer words. This she knew with absolute certainty.

“Sam.”

He was struggling not to fall for the light, but he couldn’t ignore this forever. Sam thought he’d be an idiot to do so.

She moved forward without another word. Shortly, she heard Tucker follow after.

When they reached the stairs, another flash of light burst to life at the landing, flickering that desperate staccato.

They continued to quietly follow the light wherever it appeared. It led them down the hallway of missing picture frames. Sam clutched the picture in her pocket. They reached a closed door. It was colder in this area, but the door knob was warm. It opened easily to reveal stairs to a basement showered in white fluorescent lights.

They went down the stairs with no hesitation, following that green light that was growing more and more desperate with each step they took. At the bottom, they were greeted by an empty expanse of white floor.

There were various metal tables, but all devoid of any machines or materials that one would expect in a lab. Because no doubt that’s what this basement was. There were discarded cords and metal scraps scattered across the room. But most notably, there was a large, round arch-like structure at the center of the furthermost wall. It was huge, its top scraping the basement ceiling. It had an indent, with two metal panels that interlocked in the center. As if it were a… door.

“Sam… is that—”

“Tucker, look.”

The little flash of green stopped by a blue button on the wall. It flickered swiftly, faster than any of the other times before it went out entirely.

They stayed there, standing, for a moment.

“Are we… are we about to find a dead kid’s twenty-year-old decayed corpse?”

Sam nodded shakily, not believing it either.

“I think so.”

They still didn’t move. God, it was so cold. She couldn’t feel her fingertips.

“What if something happens to us?”

“The thought crossed my mind.”

Two dead people found in the house during its abandonment. Three missing.

“And?”

She looked back at him, a soft smile edging its way onto her face.

“He deserves to rest. Doesn’t he?”

Tucker glanced between the blue button and the closed, arch-like door. Determination set into his features. He nodded.

They went towards the button. Tucker settled his hand over it first, Sam placing her hand over his. Their eyes met.

“This had to have been the world’s worst nap.”

Sam snorted and pressed his hand onto the button. The technology down here must be in better conditions because the effect was instantaneous. Concrete scraped against concrete as a rectangular hole opened up in the center of the lab.

From where they were, they could see it. A homemade metal casket that weirdly resembled more of an iron maiden. They found him. Daniel Fenton. He could finally, truly rest.

That’s when the pounding began.

Sam and Tucker turned to each other in horror. She felt a visceral tug in her gut she nearly threw up then and there. Instead she ran to the metal casket, dropping to the ground halfway there so she slid across the floor. The pounding grew louder, and it was definitely coming from inside. Tucker was frozen stuck by the button.

It only gets worse.

A faint sound, behind all the pounding. Sam leaned closer, listening. Her stomach dropped. Her head snapped towards Tucker, eyes a desperate frenzy.

“He’s crying. He- He’s still- o-oh my g- Tucker, help me get him out!”

This broke him out of his horrified stupor and he kneeled on the ground next to her. His hands were shaking.

“What do we do? What do we do?”

“Fuck, idunnoidunno- uh, grab, shit, shit, go to the other side. Maybe we can lift the lid.”

Stumbling, trembling, Tucker did as he was told and crawled to the other side. But he saw what was on the lid. Fuck.

“There’s a lick. Sam, it’s locked.”

She looked back up at him on the verge of tears.

“What! No, no it can’t be- it—”

“Just, hold on. I’m gonna go back upstairs. Maybe there’s something we can use. I’ll be back, I promise.”

She got the feeling he wasn’t really talking to her. The pounding quieted down but there was a muffled sound. A strained whimper.

“Shit,” Tucker whispered before running out and up the stairs.

Sam sniffled and laid a hand in on the biting cold metal of the casket.

“We’re gonna get you out,” she whispered, wiping at the tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. “I don’t really understand how this is even possible, but we’re not gonna leave you here.”

There wasn’t a response. Not a whimper or a knock. She was gripped by the fear that maybe they were too late. Twenty years buried and they were five minutes too late.

Tucker came stomping down the stairs, taking two at a time. She looked up to see he had an honest-to-god metal bat in his hands. Fully intact and not rusted at all. His hat was askew and his eyes seemed wild.

“He- he helped me find it. Nearly ran all over the house,” he said, panting heavily.

“Hurry up and break it,” she begged, not bothering to disguise the desperation in her voice.

Without another word, Tucker aimed the thicker end of the bat downwards and plunged it against the lock.

It broke apart with a resound clang.

“Help me with��”

But Sam was already crossing to where he was. Kneeling, side by side, they gripped the edges of the casket and lifted. A cloud of freezing cold air puffed up, obscuring their vision for a few seconds. They couldn’t see if they really did save a boy’s life, or if it was just his corpse playing tricks on them. But they heard heavy breathing coming from rattling lungs and not from either of them.

They’d both been holding their breaths.

The cloud dispersed. In front of them lay a young boy with matted white hair, brilliant green eyes drowning in tears and a grotesque muzzle caked from within with old and fresh blood. Metal clinked against metal. His wrists were chained to the casket. His knees scraped and bloodied from banging on the lid.

Tucker immediately removed the muzzle, which thankfully wasn’t locked. Sam’s heart broke. Shattered. The boy’s cheeks were caked, blanketed, with that same mixture of blood, his lips horribly scarred.

He sobbed, screwing his eyes shut against the bright lights.

“Thank you,” he rasped. His voice scraped against his throat.

Tucker and Sam held his hand. They cried with him.

“You’re safe with us.”

He always would be.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 2 - Dinosaur

(Previous parts - Stars, Ch 1)

Right so… this got longer than planned, and I’m not even half as sure about it as the previous part. But I’m quite excited about future sections which I’ve already partly-written and if I keep faffing with this section, I’ll never get to those before I lose steam/confidence entirely so… eh. Herewith a sort of transitional section.

One day I may rewrite it a bit when I’ve had more practice at Plot. Until then, *flings words and apologises in advance for slowness/clunkiness*.

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It had truly been the most uneventful school trip she’d ever supervised. 

The hour-long coach journey had provoked no vomiting (a first!), everyone had remembered (and eaten!) their own lunch, there had been no injuries (given the path from the visitor centre down to the caves had been very slippery indeed this was borderline miraculous!) and minimal complaining about the need to wear the safety hats (particularly after little Alex had piped up “even the Thunderbird pilots wear helmets you know”).

Even the squabbling had been fairly low level, bar some recurring hostility over dinosaur preferences.

They’d been split into three groups of 10 children, a teaching assistant, a parent and a guide with each of the other groups. Due to last minute illness, she covered the final 10 solo, aside from their very knowledgable tour-guide, but the children really had been on excellent form and she’d actually begun to relax and enjoy the day. 

Quietly inserting herself between two girls who were about to come to blows about the relative merits of the triceratops and velociraptor she did some top notch ‘distract and divert’ and the pair sped off to find the answer to her question among the didactic panels of the Stone Age display. 

School trips were alright really.

The guide left them to explore the final cave while she popped back up the tunnel to radio through to the next group. Estera leaned back against the wall and smiled. Then sneezed violently. Must be all the dust.

Wait, dust? 

She looked behind her and sure enough a fine sheet of dust was flowing down the surface of the wall. She put her hand into it and pressed her fingertips into the cold stone. It was vibrating. That… was probably not a good sign.

In a calm, cheerful voice that she was sure couldn’t have originated from her panic-constricted throat, she called the children to the centre of the room with the idea that they could head for the passageway together. The sudden shifting of shadows together with the faint rumbling, rushing noise at the limit of her hearing made her feel slightly vertiginous

“Quickly please” a little more urgent now.

Everyone froze as a creaking sound accompanied the next wild swooping of lights and she realised the false ceiling suspended above the front half of the cave to disguise the gear for atmospheric lighting and projections was swinging too and fro. Not that way then. She dragged the nearest three children to the wall furthest from the door. “Back here everybody! Now!” All but one rushed towards her, the one standing mesmerised by the swaying lights above.

“ALEX!!”

He turned, wide-eyed, and ran… and tripped and fell forwards and as she reached out to him the creak became a screech, the lights went out and the subsequent crash made her ears ring.

The rumble became a roar and everything was dark and dust.

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Spitting out dust, Estera scrabbled for her phone and flicked the torch on, dazzling herself. She tried to force her eyes to adjust more quickly as her head spun and called out softly, trying to calm the terrified children she could hear beginning to cry.

“Be brave, my little ones, we’ll be ok. Can you call your numbers as we practised?”

“One” a nervous voice piped up behind her. That was Bee.

“Two” 

“Three”

“F-F…. Fourrrrr”

She found and grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed it as he sobbed “Well done honey. Ok, who was Five?”

“Me, Five” A cough. “I don’t like it, the air tastes wrong”.

“I think it’s just dust, Xanthe, but it’s not very nice is it. Why don’t we all try a clever trick - try pulling your sleeve down past your hand then put it over your mouth like a mask… like that mysterious super spy in last week’s story…?”

There was shuffling and wriggling as the children transformed themselves into super spies. Estera wasn’t sure how long it would work for but anything that reduced the amount of particles getting into their little lungs had to be worth a try. At least it was just dust… she remembered the panic at the start of the war when the rumours of weaponised chemical agents were rife and all the children would turn up to class with handmade attempts at masks she knew would be utterly ineffective if the day ever came. It made the parents feel better to try though and she would never argue with that… it was better than giving up. Anything was better than giving up.

“Super Spy Six reporting for duty, Miss!”

Oh yes, roll call. Gosh her head was spinning.

“Well done, Rozi, err, keep going”

Numbers seven through nine came in quick succession and then there was a pause. Viscous dread pounded through her veins.

“Alex?”

A little sniff and a whispered “Ten” allayed her fears somewhat until it was followed by “…‘m stuck!” and a terrified sob.

She shuffled towards the voice, using her phone torch to avoid crawling over anybody. A low battery alert popped up on screen. Damn it. She shone the already fading light around the space they had remaining.

“Can anyone see my rucksack?” She’d left it propped up against one of the walls but had entirely lost her bearings and could only hope it had been a wall on the side of the cave that wasn’t currently buried in tonnes of rock.

“It’s here Miss!”

Thank goodness. “In the pocket at the front are everyone’s torches, could you hand them out for me, Rozi?”

Some scrabbling noises and a few “no THAT was mines” later and the cave was flooded with light. A quick visual check of the rapidly blinking, dusty children obediently trying to breathe through their school jumpers was somehow simultaneously heart-warming and crushing.

She turned back to Alex, lying in the corner of their much reduced space, where the false ceiling had partly fallen over his right leg. She crouched and touched his hands and wet panicky eyes looked up at her.

“Does it hurt, Alex?”

A sniff. “Mmm… little bit”

“Can you wiggle your toes?”

Fierce concentration on his face, the young boy confirmed that he could and she breathed a sigh of relief. It could be a lot worse.

“Ok, someone will come and rescue us soon and they will be able to get you out. Until then…” she raised her voice and her eyebrows “What does everyone think about breaking into my emergency jelly snake stash?”

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Time was passing, but Estera had no idea how much of it. Her phone battery had expired, predictably. Some of the kids had watches but she didn’t want to draw attention to how long it had been by asking. They seemed content for now, albeit the best dinosaur debate had restarted and was causing periodic outbreaks of conflict. She’d triggered widespread derision for her answer of ichthyosaur (“plesiosaurs aren’t actually dinosaurs, Miss, just aquatic reptiles!!”) which had at least united them for a time.

She wondered whether to suggest they turn some of the torches off to save the batteries but the kids were enjoying themselves drawing cave paintings of definitely-non-aquatic-reptiles with the packet of chalks she’d found in a forgotten pocket of her rucksack. The jelly snakes were long gone but at least the dust had settled. 

After a minor incident where Xanthe had tried to assist with Alex’s pins and needles by vigorously karate chopping his calf, she and Jeff had laid themselves down on the floor either side of him and together they were blending their favourites into the Ultimate Dinosaur.

They were calm right now and that was good. She wondered how much air was down here and her throat constricted a little, trying to breathe as little as possible as if that would somehow leave more for the children. 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

She supposed it must be getting late now, past the kids’ bedtimes. They were rather quiet, sat around in little groups, some talking a little, some just hugging each other. Sam had curled up on her feet like a large, bony cat and she kept having to nudge him to stop him falling asleep. 

She had tried to keep them chatting but was finding it harder to focus. She supposed the air was becoming bad… the symptoms of hypoxia were part of her first aid training but she was struggling to recall much of it at the moment and began to morbidly hope it would at least be a peaceful passing for them all. She selfishly hoped she’d be first. She didn’t think she could bear to see anyone else die, there had been too many… her mind drifted back to picture the morning her neighbours were dragged into the street… the headteacher marched from the school… her last hug with her brother as he was called up to fight… the boy with the blue eyes.

She mentally slapped the thoughts away, she had to be strong for the little ones.

“What was that, Miss?”

A few of them startled suddenly, and she strained her ears, gradually becoming aware of banging and scratching noises which progressively came closer. Her heart beat faster as she dared to hope.

After a few minutes she was sure she could hear muffled voices behind wall… and began to catch odd seemingly unconnected words… “props”… “oxygen”… “pod”… “wider than me” and “fine”. 

Some more scraping and a shower of small pieces of rock were pushed into the cave from a rabbit-sized hole which had appeared at shoulder height, shortly followed by a small gas canister in a blue gloved hand and a friendly voice:

“International Rescue here, we’re going to get you out of there.”

The children suddenly perked up and cheered.

The owner of the hand chuckled. “Good to hear you guys too. Can somebody take this and turn the dial anti-clockwise - it’ll increase the oxygen levels down here for you.”

Estera did so with shaking hands and took her first deep breath in a long while as the gas hissed into the space.

“Hey, Mr International Rescue, what’s your favourite dinosaur?”

Another hand poked out of the hole

“That…” a grunt, followed by the appearance of two blue-suited arms “is a very important question.”

A lower, more urgent voice interrupted and the first voice muttered something in return before more shuffling and wriggling of the arms.

“My… favourite dinosaur…”

Estera pulled the children away from the wall as more debris fell from the hole.

“… is the Nanotyrannus. Because they were really, REALLY fast.”

A small explosion of sand and pebbles preceded a blue-helmeted head and shoulders emerging into the cave, an arm immediately moving to shield its owner from the glare of the 11 torches currently glinting off the visor.

“It’s Scott, by the way.”

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[Link to Ch 3]

[AO3]

[necroromantics]

Hey hey tomb is there anything more about tobin?? We need more of him plss he is so cooll we love him so much pls spill we're listening:3

*puppy eyes*

UHHHH I DUNNO WHAT TO SAY SPECIFICALLY... Heres a bunch of random facts though... If you want me to expand on anything specifically lmk (None of these are particularly relevant to the plot of Creepedverse, if you wanna know more about that feel free to leave an ask on the account @creepedverse )

-He has a little sister named Emily. Shes 8 years younger than Tobin. The last time he saw her was before he killed his father. He was 17, she was 9.

-His mother dealt with severe mental health issues all his life, and his father was heavy into drugs and alcohol. Tobin was really the only one who raised Emily. He would steal chocolate bars from the store to give her, cook her supper, get her ready for school, etc

-Tobin knows how to braid hair. He learned one night after his mom yelled at Emily when she asked her to braid her hair. He took his crying sister into his room and spent an hour trying to figure it out for her

-He used to run away all the time, or would get kicked out, but always ended up back home. Either he calmed down, his mother calmed down, or the cops dragged him back without asking why he ran away in the first place

-Tobin is very interested in guns. Something he picked up from his father. He likes older models the most

-His favourite music artists are Green Day, The Offspring, Three Days Grace, Alice In Chains, Aerosmith, Eminem, and NWA

-Despite being insensitive and callous, he's very loyal and very protective of the people he likes. But he's insanely picky on who he deems worth his time and energy

-Tobin is awful with emotions. He doesn't like when people vent to him, he never knows what to say, and he doesn't really care about their problems

-Being in and out of school his whole life, Tobin is very set back on his education. He barely even knew how to read until Tali taught him. She was his tutor in high school, which caused a lot of arguments between the two hotheads

-He's good with his hands. He steals bikes and takes them apart for scraps. He's also very into welding and later in life, he'd spend his time in chop shops fixing up or taking apart busted cars

-Tobin is very unserious and goofy. 99% of the shit he does is because he thinks its funny or entertaining. He has a mindset of "nothing matters", to a fault. He finds it very difficult to understand why others might take certain things seriously, or be hurt by things

-He's a troublemaker from birth. Always starting fights, running his mouth, getting his shit rocked. Tobin is not one to hold his tongue for the sake of peace. If someone has a problem with him, thats their issue, not his

-Before he killed his dad, Tobin was pretty well known by the local cops (small town). They'd sometimes drive past and ask if he was staying out of trouble. Nobody was really surprised when they heard about what he did

-He has untreated bipolar disorder (not borderline.) and goes fucking insane for a week or two every so often. Tali can always tell when he's heading for an episode before he can, and is always there to help him out

-He got the scar on his mouth from being attacked by a dog when he was 8

-He doesn't have a middle name

-Tobin carries his backpack with him everywhere. It holds his entire life (Wallet, switchblade, cigarettes, candy bars)

-He skates (board) and has busted his ass more times than he can count

-Freedom is the most important thing to him. The only thing in the entire world that he'd ever even consider giving up his freedom for is Tali. Anything for her

-His love language is acts of service. Heavily. He wont buy people gifts or say nice things to them or spend time with them, but if they need help with something, he's there, he'll do it in a heartbeat, whatever they need

-He's a big hypeman and likes encouraging people. On his good days, he's funny, outgoing, and optimistic

-On his bad days, he's a piece of shit who'll blow up on anyone, do anything he can to cause problems, put others down. He'll lash out, hit where it hurts. Horribly self destructive

-Tobins favourite colours are orange, blue, green, in that order

-He was really into dinosaurs as a kid. His favourite dinosaur is the bruhathkayosaurus

-He's very open-minded, like this guy does NOT care at all about what someone else is doing. He was raised to always mind his own business, let people do their thing, and he kept that mindset growing up. To a fault. He doesn't care if someone is a killer, sexist, gay, a furry, conservative, a cannibal, whatever. He has his own views, and does not care enough to be bothered by other peoples

-Despite being very morally skewed and being a chronic idgafer, Tobin is fiercely against harming, and people who harm, children and women (Physically. He doesn't care about emotional). He grew up defending his little sister and sometimes his mother from his father. He thinks people who prey on those weaker than them are pussies, and always stands up for the smaller guy

-Due to this, Tobin tends to pick fights with people who are bigger than him, or people who he views as a threat. Authority, people who act tough, disrespect him, etc. He'll pistol whip a guy twice his size he does NOT have any regards for his own limits or safety

-He was close with his grandma growing up. He's a grandmas boy. She never really knew all the things he was up to (drugs, selling, fights), but she's been around for a long time so she always had a feeling. One of the things he thinks about from time to time is how he never got to say goodbye to her before he ditched town

-Tobin had a few close encounters with death. Almost getting his brains blown out, accidentally overdosing, nearly drowning. The feeling right before you're about to die is something he's well acquainted with

-He's big into anarchy and knows how to make various bombs. Never gets around to it though. He doesn't trust his knowledge in chemistry enough to not blow himself up

-He does boxing when he needs to blow off some steam