#I Laugh at corn in general

[betelgo0ze]

I literally love ur acc bc I’ve been hyper fixated on transformers since I was six but every time I see tf 🖤🧡 in general I audibly laugh and idk why it’s amazing art I just cannot control the sillyness

completed commission for @cybertronianxwhore!

thank you for commissioning :3c

you can find the uncensored version on my twitter right here!!

[stillmonsterz]

GAM3 BO1

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut

summary: reclusive gamer heeseung offers you the chance to live in a decent place in exchange for your companionship.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon, somnophilia, jerking off, exhibitionism, coercion, humiliation, anal sex

word count: 3.7k

--

The man you’re looking at in this coffee shop does not look like he could pay rent anywhere, let alone cover most of yours. He looks like he should be scrolling imageboards in his mother’s basement as he dines on high-fructose corn syrup. His eyes have bags, his skin is pale and sallow, his overgrown bangs reach below his eyebrows, and he’s so thin that the sleeves of his button-up hang from his arms. He peeks at you under his eyelashes, smiling shyly.

“You seem like a good fit,” he says quietly, fiddling with the handle of his mug of coffee. “And like I said, all you would have to do is clean up, do the laundry…make sure the place isn’t a complete pigsty.” He laughs softly. “God knows I’m awful at that.”

“Well, I can do that,” you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. “I still don’t understand why you’re being so generous. I mean, you could just get a maid. It’d cost you less money, too.” You don’t mention that the apartment is ridiculously nice for the pittance he would let you pay for it, and it’s in a choice location in the city. When you saw the ad for it on the roommate app you had downloaded, you had thought it was a scam. But then, you were so desperate that you were willing to fall for a scam. As it turns out, the apartment is real – he had sent you a video of it at your behest – and the owner was definitely real.

Heeseung – Heeseung Lee, a single computer programmer that had come into an undisclosed yet presumably exorbitant amount of wealth following his parents’ passing – laughs again, a self-conscious chuckle that quickly dies in his throat. “Well, to be honest with you…I just get lonely. I mean, my work is all online, and I don’t have many, uh, friends. I sort of just stay at home and play…” Heeseung’s voice becomes hushed. “play video games. It’s sort of pathetic.”

“Nothing pathetic about that,” you say quickly. He’s so earnest, it tugs at your heartstrings. “I think this could be a great arrangement.”

Heeseung looks up at you, and his eyes are shining. He smiles at you, tilting his head. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You smile as well. “And I’m a pretty good companion, if I do say so myself.”

Heeseung’s eyes flicker down, lingering below your collar for a full five seconds before he looks back up at you. “You know, I think you’ll be a great companion for me.”

--

Your first week living in his apartment is relatively peaceful. Relatively is the operative word. Your room is comfortable, stocked with plain furniture. Heeseung gives you carte blanche to decorate it as you wish, which is nice. Cleaning up after him is a simple affair, too. He deposits his dirty dishes and takeout containers outside of his door at regular intervals – 6 pm, when he wakes up and orders something, 8 pm, when he remembers to eat something, and 2 am, when he needs a snack to keep him going. You got home from work at 5, so it wasn’t hard to accommodate him. He exclusively eats Doordash, which saddens you a bit. When you made pasta for yourself one day, you decided to knock on his door and offer him a bowl of it. His eyes had widened, like you had offered him  a plate of solid gold.

“Really?” he’d said, receiving the bowl.

“Yeah, of course.” You had smiled at him sympathetically; it was really so easy to please him.

Heeseung had grinned at you. “Thank you, thank you.” He had taken a large bite of it and closed his eyes, nodding and pointing at the bowl. “You’re so good at cooking, wow. Wow, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No really…you’re an angel. Like a domestic goddess.” Heeseung had looked you up and down. “You’re like a cute little maid.”

You laughed and walked away.

 His eating habits were one thing, but some things he does mystify you. He refuses to let you inside of his room, blocking your view of the door. You can catch a whiff of stale air whenever the door is cracked even slightly, which piques your interest. “It’s just really messy in here,” he’d tell you nervously. Heeseung only really comes out of his room to play Overwatch on the Smart TV in the living room. Other than that, he asks you periodically to bring him things when you get home from work.

There’s also one other issue: you swear your panties are going missing. Your favourite pair of panties has vanished, as well as a pair you generally wear when you’re on your period. You take care of all the laundry (including Heeseung’s own filthy boxers), so it’s impossible that you could have misplaced them. You don’t push anything, though.

Today is weird, though. When you get home, there’s a medium-sized package outside of the door. It has Heeseung’s name on it, so you bring it to his door and knock. “Heeseung, there’s something for you.”

Heeseung cracks the door open, his hair having grown even longer in the week you had been here. “Oh, no,” he says, pointing with a bony finger, “that’s for you.”

“Aw, Heeseung,” you say with a wide smile. “You got me something?”

Heeseung grins at you and shrugs. “It’s the least I can do. You do so much for me…I hope you like it.”

You excitedly open the package, but your smile drops when you see its contents: a cheaply-made maid outfit with spaghetti straps, white lace trim, and a skirt that would cover your panties and little else. “You…want me to wear this?”

“Yes,” Heeseung says, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “Come on, it’s just a dress. No one else will see.”

You sigh. He practically lets you live here for free, so you might as well play along. “What, you want me to wear it right now?”

Heeseung nods so vigorously you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his skinny little neck. You turn away to head to your room to change, but Heeseung’s grip on your shoulder tightens. “No. Change here.”

You whip your head to face him. “What?”

His gaze is steely now, his previous shyness having seemingly dissipated. “Change in front of me.” Then, as though he had been momentarily possessed, his softness returns. “Please? I don’t ask you for a lot, right?”

You swallow your pride and put the maid outfit on the ground. First, you remove your hoodie, revealing your tank top. As you fold up your hoodie, you can see Heeseung’s hand furiously moving in his boxers, which causes you to freeze.

“Keep going,” he says hoarsely, leaning his head back. Dread pools inside of your gut as you continue to strip. Soft, strained moans spill from Heeseung’s lips as he watches you strip down to your underwear. When you put on the maid costume, he carefully adjusts the straps of your dress with his slick hands. “Very nice,” Heeseung says. “Turn around for me?”

You turn, and you can feel the cool air of the apartment hitting your ass- the dress is that short. “So good,” Heeseung whispers. “You can take it off now.”

Your hands fumble with the hem of your dress, but Heeseung laughs. “Not here,” he says, removing his hands from your shoulder. “In your room, silly. And after you’re done, bring the dress to me, okay?”

You’re too dazed to question his instructions, and you’re all but too happy to get out of the dress. After you’re done changing, you hand the maid outfit to him. He smiles and takes it without a word.

Things go by relatively smoothly after that, and you almost wonder if you made that incident up. The only thing that has changed about his behavior is that he comes to see you more. Not for long, only a few minutes per day. If you make cookies, he’ll ask if he can try some of the dough or try a cookie. If you’re doing the laundry, he’ll ask you about your day as you fold.

You’re currently on your hands and knees scrubbing a particularly obstinate white stain on his couch when you hear Heeseung’s voice behind you. “You know, you should wear leggings more often,” he says.

You don’t turn to look at him. “Yeah, why?”

“They make your ass look perfect,” he says with a laugh. “Of course, it looks best naked.”

You’re about to ask him how he would know how your ass looks naked before he’s already wandered off. About two minutes later, you can hear him in his room playing a low-grade pornography, his own moans mixing in with the fake screams of pleasure from the women. You put your headphones on and try to drown the sound out- even the sound of Heeseung calling your own name.

This goes on for a while, and it only gets worse. Now he leaves his door open so the sound of him jerking off echoes through the apartment. When you’re trying to sleep, you can hear the severely un-titillating sounds of the brother-con hentai he watches.

One day, you’re rummaging through your underwear drawer trying to find your comfortable, plain bra. You realize that it’s missing, and your anger reaches a boiling point. You stomp over to his room and knock on the door. “Heeseung,” you growl.

Heeseung opens the door nonchalantly and smiles. “Hi,” he says innocently, “could you clean my room for me?”

“Could I what? Heeseung, did you steal m-,”

“And could you wear this while you do it?” As if he had been expecting you, Heeseung walks over to his bed and hands you the maid outfit, your missing bra, and that pair of your favorite panties. All of them were coated in globs of cum in various stages of hardening, especially your panties.

“Heeseung!” You take a step back from him. “I’m not doing that, for fuck’s sake.”

Heeseung just smiles at you. “I think you should.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Either you wear this, or make you pay your share of the rent.” Heeseung leans towards you, and you can smell his fruity, sickly breath. “The choice is yours, of course.”

“You’re insane,” you say, leaning away from him.

“Whatever. Now get in the maid outfit.”

Tears well in your eyes as you head to your room to don the most humiliating outfit you’ve ever seen. When you put the bra and panties on, his cum oozes out of them and drips onto the floor.  The maid outfit is sticky all over, and you shiver. You don’t even look yourself in the mirror before leaving your room to see Heeseung again. His hand is already wrapped around his dick by the time you walk out, his boxers resting around his ankles.

“Wait, wait,” Heeseung says, holding up his free hand. “Don’t walk to me. Crawl to me.”

The humiliation forces your head down as you sink to your hands and knees and crawl towards Heeseung. When he sees you at his feet, Heeseung smiles, still stroking his cock. “Such a cute little maid,” he says. “Now get up on your knees, come on. Be good.”

You prop yourself up on your knees, so that you’re level with his crotch. “Now,” he says softly, “open wide.”

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and Heeseung slides his cock into your mouth. When he does, he moans loudly, and he grabs at your hair. Heeseung fucks your mouth like it’s a pussy, and the musty state of his cock makes you gag the entire time. His balls slap against your face, and he keeps whimpering pathetically. His other hand reaches down and squeezes one tit after the other, and within no time he’s pulling his cock out of your mouth, tugging it hurriedly, and finishing all over your face. He tugs his boxers up to his waist again and sighs. “That was great,” he says, affectionately ruffling your hair. “Whenever you’re ready, you can come inside my room and tidy it up. I know it bothers you that I’m so messy…”

Your jaw is too sore to speak, and for a moment you just lie there on the floor in the hallway. None of it seems real, none of it makes sense to you. The worst part of it all is that you can feel wetness pooling in between your thighs, which makes you groan softly.

A little while later, Heeseung emerges from his room. He crouches down and strokes your hair. “You want me to get you something?” he asks soothingly. “Some water, juice?”

“Water would be nice.” You cough a few times. Heeseung gets up and comes back shortly with a bottle of water that he opens for you. You pull yourself up so that you’re sitting, legs crossed, and you drink the water while Heeseung pats your hair comfortingly. Once you calm down, you and Heeseung head inside of his room.

It’s disgusting, which is an understatement. The bed is unmade and piled with stained pillows, the floor is spattered with cum, his bookshelf is a horrid mishmash of coding textbooks and manga, his closet is filled with clothes, of which only half are on hangers. His desk area is relatively clean, but one of his three monitors is playing some filthy pornography. The other has Discord open, and the third has some weird game you don’t recognize open. Worst of all is the pocket pussy resting on his gaming chair.

You sigh. Seems like you have a lot of work to do.

--

Over the next few months, you start to realize that Heeseung is treating you like a pseudo-girlfriend. He changes your contract so that he pays for virtually all of the rent, as well as the groceries. He even gives you a hefty monthly allowance, enough that you can start building up your savings.

Of course, you doubt that a regular boyfriend would treat you the way Heeseung does. For one, ever since you cleaned his room the first time, he expects you to clean it every day while donning a humiliating outfit of his choosing. He likes to have you walk around in the apartment wearing striped microkinis, plaid skirts with black G-strings, nurse costumes, maid outfits, and an elaborate swimsuit cosplay of his favorite League of Legends character. He’ll watch you as you clean his room clad in whatever skimpy outfit he’s gifted you, commenting on your body. Other times, he’ll come up behind you as you’re in the kitchen or living room and grope your ass or tits before wandering back to his cave. That’s what he does on a regular basis.

Lately, he’s been fucking you. It started when you were eating a bowl of cereal before heading off to work. You had heard his room door creak open, then his dragging, lumbering footsteps.

“Good morning,” he had whispered, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’ve got a little something…”

Before you could say anything, Heeseung had licked the tip of his finger and swiped up the bit of milk lingering by the corner of your mouth. He stuck his finger into his mouth, still hovering over you. Every time you took a bite of cereal, trying to finish up as quickly as you could, he would wipe your face and then suck the milk off of his fingers. His other hand rested on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly, until it slid down lower and lower. As he ran his thumb against the corner of your mouth, he slowly began groping your breasts. Heeseung pressed his lips against yours, both of his hands fondling you.

You had pulled your lips away. “Stop. I just ironed this shirt…”

“Sorry,” he had said, buttoning your shirt from behind. As soon as it was sufficiently open, he groped your tits directly, his lips on yours. He had a greedy, selfish way of kissing you; his tongue would slither down your throat, gagging you. Heeseung had unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, then he pushed your cereal to the side. He pushed you down onto the dining table, your chest pressing against the wood. You could feel his hands tugging your damp panties to the side.

“Such a nice pussy,” he had murmured. You heard him spit, then you felt cool fingers pumping themselves in and out of you. You bit your lip so you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Heeseung only prepped you just enough to get you wet, then he stuffed himself inside of you, inch by inch.

Your hands curled, desperately trying to find any purchase. It had been a long time since you had anything inside of you, and you welcomed the pleasure. But you couldn’t let Heeseung know that.

His gnarled fingernails dug into your soft flesh as he pounded away at you. He wasn’t particularly vocal, only making soft moans of pleasure. Sometimes, he would drag himself out of you, then slam back inside. He smacked your ass. “Just look at that shit jiggle,” he said breathlessly. “I want to try that out next…”

With that, he had slid his fingers into your tight hole, and you couldn’t hold back a gasp. Heeseung pumped his fingers in and out of the band of muscle, widening it. You had never taken anything up your ass before, and your toes curled in fear and anticipation.

You felt him slip out of your pussy, and the painful stretch of his cock opening your asshole replaced the pleasure you had previously felt. Heeseung groaned as he fucked your ass raw, only the precum that had dribbled from his cock for lube. Fortunately, he didn’t last, pumping your ass full with hot cum before pulling out of you. “Your pussy is definitely better,” he had muttered before walking away. While you rested against the table, trying to recollect yourself, you heard him booting up another game of League of Legends. With a palpable sense of shame, you finished yourself off right there as your cheek pressed against the table, your fingers wildly swirling against your engorged clit. You came with a shudder, then you darted into the bathroom to clean yourself up and go to work.

He never fucked your ass again, but your pussy and mouth were fair game for him. Whenever he sees you now, wearing the outfits he picks for you, he shoves his fingers down your throat. Once your throat is pliant and his fingers are coated in your spit, he either make you blow him or he fingers you wherever you are, his other hand stroking all over your body. Then he goes back into his room while you’re there, dripping wet. Heeseung likes having you wet all the time, so he can fuck you at his convenience.

Like right now, he was playing another game of Overwatch, hunched over his controller and eyes laser-focused on the screen. You were on your hands and knees, pushing yourself back and forth on his dick. This time, he had made you wear a cow-print bikini, complete with a bell; every time you fucked yourself on his cock, it would jingle.

“Fuck,” Heeseung says, voice ragged, “my team’s Tracer is so shit at kiting. It’s such a basic concept.”

“That really sucks,” you say through gritted teeth.

Heeseung reaches his hand out and touches your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your lips. “You’re such a good listener,” he coos, lazily thrusting as he removes his hand and continues playing his game. He soon stops moving, and you have to pick up his slack, rocking yourself as fast as you can so he can cum and be done with it. “Ah, stop going so fast,” Heeseung says, lightly slapping your ass. “I want to sync my nut up for when I use my ultimate.”

As you heed his instructions, you squeeze your eyes shut and tell yourself that homelessness is a far worse prospect than this, homelessness is bad, you wouldn’t like a homeless shelter.

It wasn’t like he didn’t jerk off anymore, either. He did, maybe even more than before he started using you. Heeseung liked to spread his legs, milk his cock right in front of you, then lick up the cum off of the couch while he told you to play with yourself. Whenever you got close to cumming, he would tell you to stop and do some task for him. Then, when you were scrubbing the dishes or wiping down his desk, he would plunge his cock into you and fuck you until you were twitching and crying out. Other times, he would make you sit in his room with him. He would sit you on his lap while he watched some degenerate hentai, and he would make you jerk him off while he fondled your tits and rubbed your clit.

Once, you went to bed early because you had a hard day at work. Your dream is odd; you’re running from a ghost in a dilapidated mansion. You can’t see it, but you can feel its presence. Then you feel it catch you, its hands wrapping around your waist, your tits. The ghost rubs your body slowly, almost tenderly, and you can feel its hardness pressing against your ass as you’re suspended in the air.

When you open your eyes, you realize that it wasn’t a dream, not quite. There is a hand that has slipped under your shirt, caressing your chest, and another hand on your waist. And someone is humping you, whimpering as he does. Quite belatedly, you realize that your pajama pants have been pulled down.

“Heeseung?” you whisper sleepily.

“Shh,” he says, “just go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be done soon.”

You’re too tired from everything to fight it, so your eyes flutter shut. Heeseung slowly thrusts into you, almost like he doesn’t want to wake you, and you smile slightly at the sentiment. He fucks you lazily and slowly, and only speeds up when he’s about to cum. He cums inside of you and uses his fingers to push his seed back up.

“Thanks for letting me do that,” he whispers before leaving you alone.

As you’re drifting to sleep again, you can hear him telling someone to, “Fucking stop camping.”

This is still better than being homeless.

[herecomethatboi]

Dbd killers x gn! Reader pt.2

Part two of MC slamming killers against the wall. Now it's MC who gets slammed lol

(I remembered like... A few days ago that I have a Tumblr account and I have 70+ followers??? Oh my god??? I love you guys, and i'm so sorry for delaying this. School, life and my love life just ✨love✨ to make me suffer🥲)

((LET'S GOOO))

The Ghostface:

The cat and mouse play begun, once you heard him giggle like a kid opening Christmas presents. The chase went on for what seemed like hours.

But of course, by the rules of the Entity's Realm, he caught up.

The breath was knocked out of you as you were thrown on your front and you tried to buck him off, although now he remembered he actually has his supernatural strengh to pin you down.

He was huffing, you were out of breath and he turned you -rather harshly- on your back making you grunt. He sat on your stomach, then he raised his knife.

You thought he will stab you in the skull, so you winced and closed you eyes while shielding your face with your arms.

With a swift motion he stabbed it into the ground next to you. You lowered your arms and opened your eyes to see his...face.

The mask was thrown somewhere else.

He had a grin on his face. An arogant, stupid grin on his face.

"Caught you now..." His voice was raspy, like he hasnt used it in a while. "Thought you could run away from me?"

"No, I-"

"I think I should return the favour, no?" He cut you off with a grin. At your lack of response his grin grew. "Not so bold now, hmm?"

You glared up at him and tried to push him off, which made him grab your wrists in his hands and pin them above your head.

"Awh, last time you were rougher, i'm almost disappointed." He giggled again.

That was the last straw, and whatever adrenaline you had in your system came in the form of pushing against him and switching positions.

"I can be rough, just like last time." You grinned down at his stupid face with that stupid grin.

"Oh, please, do go on." He... Pleaded? It sounded like teasing, but the honest begging undertone was so obvious.

So, you kissed him. Pinned his arms down by his wrists, and did the knee thing, which made him shiver.

He pulled back, not expecting you to ACTUALLY do something with him.

"Oh God..." He breathed out. His cheeks were pink, highlighting some of his freckles.

"My name should be what you call." You said as you applied pressure between his legs, which made him arch up just a tiny bit.

"Oh...God..." He moved against your knee, trying to find some release.

"Good boy."

The Entity watched with pop-corn as the scene unfolded.

The Legion, Frank:

You were repairing a gen when he randomly appeared next to you. You jumped back, let out a tiny scream (and had a mini heartattack) making the generator explode, which he laughed at.

"Am I that scary? Come on now." He laughed, you glared at him.

"Oh, should I start listing why a SURVIVOR should be afraid of a KILLER?!?" You asked rather harshly. His laughing turned into snickering.

"Yeah, well, this killer has to remind you where your place is after the last time we met." You were pinned against the gen when he finished that sentence. "After all, i'm a big, scary, merciless killer. Am I not?"

You stared at him with widenes eyes for a moment, then your expression turned blank and you clicked your tongue.

"Says the guy who whimpers like a girl." That did the trick, since he started stuttering non-sense that wasn't helping his case.

"WELL FUCK YOU- you... uh- you- uhm- FUCK- uhmmmm-" You chuckled and waited for him to form a sentence.

He stabbed you angrily and ran away, like the baby he is.

Then, when he got back, he started ranting about you to the Legion, who collectively told him to fuck your brains out or you will.

Frank didn't like that, but kept it in mind.

Michael Myers:

You were alas the last one yet again. You found the hatch, but decided to just sit down next to it and wait.

Michael was nearby, you could feel it.

Ever since... THAT, he's been focusing his attention on you, even in the camp where supposedly, no killer can come too close or enter, you felt that piercing gaze on the back of your head.

It wasn't pleasant, to say the least.

So, you decided to finally have a one-sided conversation with the Shape.

If, he lets you, of course.

It took some time, but he came forward, staring at you then the hatch, then back at you, pointing his knife slightly to your only escape.

"I know, I know, I just... Wanted to talk. If it's okay?" You stood up slowly, he lowered his knife to his usual resting position. "I'm sorry. I know it was shitty of me to do that, and I wanted to know if we could just... Go back to the usual trials?" You asked, unsure of his response.

You certainly didn't expect him to slam you against the wall behind you with a hand around your throat. He wasn't choking you, just holding it, as if you were made out of porcelain.

(Which, to be honest, compared to his strengh, your neck could be considered delecate)

You froze. His breathing was deep, but calculated and slow. He then dropped his knife (which was a surprise) and lifted his mask above his lips.

Then with the same fashion you did, he kissed you forcefully.

You stopped breathing for a moment and tensed up.

The kiss ended just as quick as the last one. Then he pulled his mask back down, let go of your neck and left, leaving his knife behind.

You returned to the camp with his knife hidden away, and shocked.

+Pyramid Head: (Ya'll, he has long tongue🤭)

He's been having bad trials lately. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what it was.

Everything just felt... Off.

Then the trial with you happened.

You were new, a complete stranger, and yet, nothing indicated that you were a bad person who deserved to be punished.

Pyramid had this dawning feeling about some survivors, and you were just the same.

Wrong place, wrong time.

He didn't find it in his soul to make people like you suffer. But sometimes. People like you just piss him off.

He finished off Ada, leaving you injured somewhere on the map. He found the hatch before you, but he ignored it and went after the smell of blood.

Then he found you and with a swift motion you were against the wall.

You tried to fight, which pissed him off some more, making him let out some grunts, but nothing made you stop.

So, he had an idea.

On the front of his head, there's a little opening for his tongue to escape.

So, he did just that and stuck it into your mouth.

It was gross, sure, it didn't feel like a normal tongue, but it was an interesting experience (for him too).

When you stopped, he took out his tongue, tossed you on his shoulder and walked back to the hatch, then he dropped you and left.

He started at his reflection for hours, not knowing WHY he just... Did what he did. But kept that in mind to do it again.

Pyramid could smell the sweet sweet arousal from you, which gave him images he never did and a new hard problem to deal with.

Screw you. (Affectionatelly)

+Evan MacMillan:

Evan had a feeling someone was down in the basement, and he was right. You were there, with your newly found flashlight, frozen in place as he took up the place in the only way for you to escape.

He knew it was over for you, so he took a step toward you, but was met with something hitting his square in the forehead, harshly.

Trapper was stunned the moment you threw a flashlight at him, hitting him on his mask and cracking the top layer off of it.

He almost dropped his weapon at the impact.

He just stood there at the stairs of the basement while you looked between the flashlight on the floor and him, mortified.

Evan huffed and marched to you, which made you let out a panicked noot noot and tried to avoid his reach, which was useless.

He grabbed you, but he didn't expect to be met with the sheer force of adrenaline from you and be slammed against the hooks pillar (is it a pillar???).

You grabbed his mask, threw it away, grabbed his face and kissed him.

He just froze up, not knowing what in the nine Hells he's suppose to do.

Then, you were running away.

The kiss was... Something else for him. Which made him hide in the basement, and just rethink his life decissions.

[writella]

More Negan x reader pllsss😔😔😔

pls the emojis are sending me hahahah! let me know how you like it!

Thinking of Negan who daydreams about the reader who always has the cutest outfits when she comes to visit— ♡

cw: negan x fem!reader, smut— masturbation (m) and descriptive allusions to sexual situations, very desperate and depraved Negan because he is in jail, and reader being cute and nice and just too irresistible :) + I wrote this with a little bit of Negan’s crude humor in mind. wc: 2.1k. slightly proofread.

Negan never thought he would stoop so low.

Not like some 20 year old guy living in his mom’s basement; the type he’d talk shit to then completely demolish on a game; one who drinks monsters and watches porn on the daily back in the old B.W. (Before Walkers— for those of you who are uncultured) era.

That was beneath him.

If he needed it, there was his wife of course, or some chic he could hook up with at the bar, but— let’s not remind him of that. That is a wound that needs no further reopening. He was ashamed of it and everything else he’s done enough as it is. Not to mention, it sure doesn’t help that he was reminded of every single heinous act he has ever committed in the A.W. years by the grand total 5 patrons that have visited his cell every- single-god-damn- day.

But now, there was a new thing to cause him great shame.

A girl.

You.

You who gives him his meals on Fridays—Gabriel’s day off. You who just can’t help but stay 5, 10, sometimes even 30 minutes after you give him his food because he always makes you laugh. You, one of the town’s gardeners, who throws in fresh strawberries during breakfast and an extra cob of corn during dinner when you know you shouldn’t. You who didn’t eat your cookie from Carol’s monthly batch she brought from the Kingdom because you gave it to him instead. You with your three sets of overalls and far too many sundresses, yet you only had one sunhat, one pair of gardening gloves, and one pair of waterproof boots.

You were way too generous with him and a little too passionate about your clothing to the point he thinks you must forget you’re living in the zombie apocalypse, but you were skilled, kind-hearted, and you liked to smile; you actually had conversations with him instead of that kumbaya shit Gabriel’s always on; and he’d be damned say you weren’t really pretty. Because you are. You’re real fuckin’ pretty.

And Negan was obsessed.

He thought about you constantly.

Like how he knew you must have always picked off the strawberries stems for him before you put them on his plate. And how he definitely knew you must have offered to give him his lunch and dinners on Fridays: He remembers that Gabriel told him that this would only be a morning thing, that the council advised him to have one day off because he was a new father. But, as dutiful as he is (and as weary as he was to bring someone else around Negan), he agreed only to breakfast. That way, he could sleep in, eat with Rosita and the kids, and not feel like he completely burdened someone else with a responsibility that was only meant to be his. Negan figured you were just that kind, that you must have been the one to offer up your Friday mornings to Gabriel. How you must have been the one to ask to come back two more times throughout the day, you must have. For Gabriel, of course, to help. But maybe you just liked him. He liked imagining that. In fact, he believed it.

He also liked to imagine that maybe you were dressing up for him. He sure loved your little outfits. Your overalls were your work clothes but still, you always looked so darn cute, always finding small ways to accessorize or make it feel more like your personality. It was all so innocent really, but he couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy— how pretty and oblivious you were to how you looked, how your clothes fit you. He often daydreamed of fucking you in every single one.

The first, the overalls you wore most often for work, was full length and completely baggy on you— he figured it must have been for a man. It was old, the hem was fraying in some areas, and it did nothing for your figure really but it was soft, durable, had many pockets and you typically put scraps of ribbon or lace you found on the straps, right on the shoulder. And his favorite part, you were often wearing a crop top with it. He could always see the side of your breast, your waist, sometimes even a tiny bit more depending on how you turned. Sometimes he thought of you in that tight little floral tank of yours. How one day maybe he’d tell you to, “take it off,” and you’d obediently drop the overalls to the floor; or maybe it would be you, while you’re on your way out: you turn around, gathering up enough courage after all this time to look him in the eye as you take off your boots and unclip the straps and let the denim fall, leaving you in only that tank and your panties. He imagines how you’d push yourself into the corner where the door was, look out the small window to see if anyone was coming, and then you’d face him again, keeping eye contact as you slipped your fingers inside your underwear and started to rub your clit, fast. Wordlessly, his jumpsuit would come off too and his hand would go straight to pumping his cock. Mesmerized by the sight of you being so unlike yourself because you wanted him just that bad, so bad neither you, nor he, could speak. Only pants and moans and grunts and “fucks,” to be heard in the room.

The second and the third was an overall dress and one with shorts. The first time you wore the dress, he remembers it was a Friday that a lot of people had left town. Unfortunately a kid got lost so many people went out to search with the family. Thankfully for Negan though, this included Gabriel, Michonne, and the two other people who tended towards Negan. Gabriel had assigned you to keep a closer watch on him that day, that the days like this where the regular schedule is thrown off is the time he might try something— Gabriel is still angry at himself for the time Negan escaped— so you took it upon yourself to bring an activity: cards. After you won a second time, Negan had playfully thrown his cards on the floor, two of them slipping past the bars and past you. You had turned to see where they went and reached forward on your knees, arm extending to get them. You weren’t directly turned but Negan sure did take the small chance he got to move more towards his right and catch a closer glimpse of your exposed thighs and color of your underwear. After you left that day he imagined that right at that moment he grabs you by the hips, pushed your ass up against the bars and pushed your panties down so he could slide into you, fucking you through the bars as much as he could, probably giving the bottom of your ass red marks every time he bangs into you against the steel.

With the shorts, he thought of scenarios more or less the same as with your full length ones. The difference is that your ass looked great in those shorts and sometimes he imagined you pushing your back against the cell bars so he could push his front against it, giving him some friction. Him telling you that it’s been years, but you’re shy and scared and you don’t want to get caught so you just do that, allow him to rub against you as you look out the window to make sure no one is coming. He imagines that you can't help but start sighing, squeezing your thighs together, moaning when he wraps his arms around your waist through the bars. One hand snaking up to grope your breast while the other cups your mound over your overalls and you rock into his hand as he presses in on you hard. You almost lose your breath, taking a sharp inhale that freezes to a halt. Finally, you'd whisper, “That feels so good,” followed by a whine. And he’d respond to you in your ear, “I know, baby.” A big wet spot is slowly appearing on your jeans and you’re not even looking out the window, your eyes are rolling back until they closed and you’re just making these tiny pathetic sounds because you can’t believe how incredible his touch is, even when you’re given so little, and how bad you’ve wanted him even though you’ve tried to deny it. “No one else makes me feel like this,” you’d tell him, to which he repeats, deep, dark, and sultry as he kisses the back of your head, “I know, baby. I know.”

Lastly, there were those sundresses. Sometimes he’d see you in them when you brought him dinner. If you could, you would freshen up before your own dinner because you got off from work early and didn’t want to be in your work clothes anymore or maybe you were having dinner with friends or Gabriel and Rosita— he often treated you because of your care for Negan on Fridays. Most people liked to pretend Negan doesn't exist, or unsolicitedly proclaimed to you and Gabriel with disgust how they would never dare go anywhere near the jailhouse, that you two must be saints, so he finds what you’re doing to be a big sacrifice. Therefore, he often invites you for meals and he and Rosita are either on the look out or ask savangers to bring back any dresses in your size. But it was a time that Negan least expected to see you that he saw you in what became his favorite dress.

It was on a Wednesday. Certainly after 12am or close to it. People were asleep, but you were sneaking towards his cell. Apparently someone from work had ground some chocolate from her wife that worked as a savager. She gave you a few pieces but you never ate them and forgot about them until you were doing some late night cleaning on your day off, so you came to treat Negan. The dress you were wearing was the tiniest thing he’d seen you in. As in, it could have been a mid-length dress on Judith. It was a deep pink color, almost purple, with small flowers in a different shade of the same family all around it. It had these very short, very slightly puffed sleeves. He could tell that it was a dress that flowed out, but that didn’t stop the material from showing your curves. He knew for a fact that if you bent over you would be giving anyone behind you a show, but honestly with how much your legs were exposed, you walking around in that must have been enough to make anyone’s head turn. Immediately he started thinking about him outside of this cell, as your man, seeing you strut around town in it, how he’d push you to the side behind a house, ask you if you wore it for him, if you were trying to make him jealous, and then fuck you hard. Then he remembers that you’re offering him chocolate, and saying that you know you shouldn’t be here, so he saves those thoughts for after you leave. You start tugging on your dress, trying to make it longer and he thanks you. Truly, that was your house dress. It was always a little snug on the top so you could never wear a bra with it regardless and you had accidently washed in your sink with hot water— you had a knack for not reading clothing labels— and it shrank. You only remember how short it is now after not wearing it outside for so long and seeing how Negan’s eyes widened at you as you came in. Did you do it on purpose? you both now question. You decide it doesn’t matter, telling yourself you were just doing something nice and you run off to bed quickly. As for him, he cares as much as he doesn’t: of course he wants you to like him and he still has a big ego enough to assume you do, especially after tonight, but most importantly you just gave him more fuel for his imagination while he’s stuck here which is enough for now.

After fucking himself when you left, he still woke up rock hard the next morning. Waking up late, he had to act quick before Gabriel came with his breakfast. He used one of his favorite methods of pushing his bed to the side, and placing himself in the darkest corner of his cell, his figure facing the wall. He’d take himself out and as always, start to pump. He places his hand on the wall for leverage and he pretends he’s fucking you against the wall. He imagines that one night you say you can’t sleep and ask if you can sleep with him in his bed. How he would be such a gentleman and say that a lady wasn’t good enough to sleep in his crappy cell, but that instead he knew another way to tire you out. One the two of you could do fast so you wouldn’t get caught. That one always got him to his climax so fast— the thought of you needing him so much that you would come inside his cell, stay on his bed until morning, get in trouble for him. It would make him come like a bullet, hard and fast.

Safe to say, Negan loves Fridays.

[thesporkidentity]

i love today's entry. this is, if i'm remembering correctly, only the second time we've had van helsing as the recorder rather than just appearing in other people's entries, and he is definitely different in the privacy of his own memorandum. in everyone else's he is so effusive that, despite his supposed advanced age, he always seems rather powerfully larger than life. (how old he actually is is never specified, but he's introduced with red hair without any gray so it's unlikely he's truly agèd.) but in her recent entry, mina describes him as old and gray, perhaps a more figurative expression than a literal change in his hair color like jonathan's, but this situation has definitely tired and aged him, washed him out.

and now we get him, unfiltered, in his own entry, and he does sound old and gray (kudos to alan burgon who has been fantastic this entire time). there's none of that barely restrained energy, no meandering metaphor about corn or immortal parrots. instead, he's surprisingly straightforward recounting the events, and what he does write is just...he sounds for the first time old and scared. the weather is cold, cold, so cold, and the land is wild and rocky like the end of the world. and he is alone save for madam mina who sleeps all day and watches him with shining eyes in the night, and he is afraid, afraid, afraid.

(side note, mina's laugh is so scary)

and, just like last time, he isn't writing a general "to whom it may concern" to make sure their story is told to whomever finds this letter; he writes, specifically, to jack. it's just so very human that when they're scared, they all reach for connection, they write to the person they love most as a last desperate way to hold onto them, to talk to them, even in absentia, before they die. so mina writes of jonathan, and jonathan writes of mina, and van helsing writes to his old and true friend john seward

[irisintheafterglow]

hii iris!! being one of my fav writers, i was wondering if it would be okay to please request you write something halloween related between Satoru and reader while they're in a lowkey relationship and instructors at jujutsu tech? maybe he drags reader and the students on some night of shenanigans? up to u, i just love how u write and i feel you'd kill this hehe

thank u so much! have an awesome day!

life's no fun without a good scare

summary: you have the brilliant idea of playing hide and seek in a corn maze against the most powerful sorcerer in the world. should be fun, right?

wc: 2.6k

cw/tags: fluff and crack and crack and fluff, established relationship, swearing (a lot of it, you'll see why lol), mentions of eating, angst if you squint, co-parenting megumi AND his friends!!

note: AAAA hi!! thank you so much for the love omg :')) i hope you like this, i definitely enjoyed writing it even though i did get a tad carried away lol. GOD this was so fun to write, thank you for suggesting it

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3 thank you for your support!!

“I’m going to eat so much candy, I’ll throw up.”

“What’re those tubs over there?”

“They’re for waterboarding Itadori,” Megumi deadpans without hesitation, clearly misrepresenting the apple bobbing game just ahead. You state his name warningly, like he was six years old again, and he mutters a half-hearted apology under his breath. “Maybe we switch out the victim for our esteemed teacher, instead.” You cover a snort with an unsuccessful cough. Even though you’d practically raised him, his jabs at Satoru never lost their humor. 

“Your suggestion will be taken into careful consideration,” you say, “though it will become more of a possibility if he continues to run on Satoru-time.” Nobara hums in agreement, kicking a stray piece of hay with her toe while you continue to progress through the general admission line to the pumpkin patch. Your fashionably-late boyfriend had sent you a very cryptic text at noon, instructing you to “pack up the kids and take them to the following address.” When you replied with a chain of question marks, he sent an infuriatingly unserious GIF that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What time did he tell you?”

“5:00.” You check your phone preemptively, already anticipating the followup question. 

“And what time is it now?”

“5:20,” you sigh, sliding your card across the shelf of the ticket booth and receiving four orange wristbands in return. After slipping them onto the wrists of your three unofficial children, Itadori and Nobara immediately disappear into the crowd; Megumi, however, stays plastered to your shoulder and makes his distaste for the bustling festival known. You scan nearby groups of people for a tall idiot with white hair with no luck. If Satoru still showed up, he would have to pay for admission himself. “Let’s grab a table and find me a bottle of soju–”

“Barely twenty minutes and you’re already drinking? Since when did Shoko replace my lovely partner?” Satoru’s sing-song voice calls out from behind you, like he’d been standing with you the entire time. Despite your attempts to remain irritated at him, you can’t resist when he turns you around, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Hi, gorgeous. What took you so long?”

“I assumed you were running late, like you always do,” you argue futilely, the world melting away when you catch his eyes over the rims of his sunglasses. “Is this not too overwhelming for you? Having so many energy signatures in one place?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you with a confident wave of his hand. “After all, I have your energy to ground me.” Your legs start to feel a bit gelatinous when you hear a very obvious throat clearing itself and suddenly remember that Megumi is still standing there. “Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my dear student?”

“Shouldn’t you be on the playground or something, my questionable teacher?” You burst out laughing and your boyfriend’s jaw drops in indignance, gearing up to say something just as childish. On instinct, you cover his mouth with your hand, recoiling in disgust when his tongue darts out to lick your palm. “Gross. I’m gonna find my friends.” 

“Don’t do anything dumb!” The boy waves his hand dismissively and you roll your eyes. In a different universe where he actually was the child of you and Satoru, he had his father’s sass gene. 

“He’s used to this by now, isn’t he?” Satoru chuckles and it reverberates against your body, making your head spin in lovesick circles.

“I’d imagine so, seeing as we did raise him like this,” you answer, letting him start to guide you toward whatever stand interests him first, his arm draped over your shoulders. “Do you think Yuuji and Nobara have figured it out?”

“If Megs hasn’t told them, then definitely not,” he states with utmost certainty, looking over one of the games with all the concentration of a hunting tiger. In the middle of the stall was a large pool of water, and swirling around in it were small, colorful bowls in the shape of blooming flowers. The goal, you guessed, was to land a small ball in a certain color and get a corresponding prize from the lineup hanging overhead. It was truly an enticing array of stuffed animals, too, from wolves and monkeys to dinosaurs and little princess dolls. “Which one do you want?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” 

“Choose a prize and I’ll get it for you, guaranteed.” 

“Guaranteed? You do know these are designed to scam you, right?”

“And I am designed to do whatever you want, so take your pick.” After a moment of consideration, you point to a stuffie of a black cat wearing a pumpkin costume. “Cute choice.”

“It reminds me of Megs.” He laughs and pulls his arm back, stretching his neck from side to side and handing a few dollars to the game attendant. It was all for show and completely unnecessary, and he knew that; he also knew that his over-the-top shenanigans always made you laugh after a stressful week. Whether you knew it or not, he’d noticed you were increasingly overwhelmed by all the work from the previous days, specifically regarding training his students while he was off on an assignment. Along with completing your own missions, you were supervising the three first years and guiding them through boring paperwork, which he knew made you feel like shit. It’s why he suggested you go to the festival in the first place, to get your mind off of work and spend time with you. And, he’d be damned if he didn’t get you that fuzzy little cat on his first try. 

“Watch the master at work, sweetheart,” is the last thing he says before carefully tossing the first of three balls toward the only purple bowl in the pool. He’s the tiniest bit off, though, and he curses under his breath as it ricochets against the edge and into the water. “That was a practice shot.”

“Sure, baby, sure,” you giggle, stifling your amusement into a fist. His tongue peeks out the side of his mouth in absentminded focus and you’re sure he’s found the perfect arc when the voice of one of his students cheers from behind you. 

“You’ve got this!” Despite their well wishes, Yuuji and Nobara accidentally timed their cheers at the precise moment his fingers let go of the ball, messing up his aim even worse than the first time. They deflate in embarrassment and Megumi’s face turns red from trying not to laugh. The usual deadly aura radiating off of him increases tenfold and it makes you shiver despite the warm autumn air. “T-Third time’s the charm, sir!”

“Fucking hell, why do I even bother–”

“Satoru, that’s cheating,” you whisper, sensing him imbuing the tiniest amount of Cursed Energy into the last ball to easily manipulate its trajectory. “I can just buy the thing online; you don’t need to be doing all of this.”

“I can buy you anything online, but I also want to prove that I’m better than everyone else,” he mutters much too seriously than the situation required. “Plus, once I win that damn cat, it’ll have a nice story to go behind it.” 

“Your ego truly knows no bounds.”

“You know you love it.”

A minute later, you’re walking away from the game with the fuzzy cat in your arms and Satoru’s arrogant smirk by your side. The rest of the night is spent watching him drag his students into various inflatable obstacle courses and tumbling down the slide after they push him over the edge. In spite of all the excitement, you have to drag them to a picnic table to sit and eat; even then, the three students challenge their teacher to a funnel cake eating contest. To no one’s surprise, Yuuji wins by a landslide. 

Satoru pays for everything, of course. When someone wanders over to a game booth, he pays for their game every single time and continues to pay until they win a prize. By the end of the night, all five of you have at least one prize in your possession and Satoru’s bank account is barely affected. 

Before the fair closes, you propose a game of hide and seek in the gigantic corn maze. You and the three students would get a five minute head start, and then Satoru would enter and race to find you before you reached the other side. The first years’ eyes shine with excitement when you tell them they can use techniques as long as they don’t make a mess. You consider throwing a veil over the entire thing, just to make sure Megumi’s dogs don’t start any rumors of hellhounds in the area. 

“If the kids can use theirs, then you’re not allowed to use your technique,” Satoru concludes and you make a noise of indignation while you gameplan by the entrance of the maze. “Don’t start with me; that’s totally fair!”

“I don’t understand how that’s fair in any way,” you argue up at his ridiculously confident smirk. You wanted to slap him and make out with him at the same time, none of which would have been appropriate in present company. 

“You make portals, sweetheart. If we’re making the maze a no-fly zone and I run into one of your doorways, I’m gonna be in there for the rest of time.”

“I’ll just make simple doors!” 

“The last time you said that, I was stuck on a mountain for three hours,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, completely forgetting the three pairs of eyes watching this entire conversation. Sweetheart? Since when did he call anyone sweetheart? Nobara and Yuuji knew that you both were friends from high school, but the bickering seemed suspiciously akin to that of an old married couple. They glance at their spiky haired friend for confirmation of their theories, but he avoids their gaze and continues munching on pumpkin spice popcorn. “Alright, five minutes on the clock. Don’t let me catch you,” he smiles wickedly and you all but shove the three students into the maze. 

In a blink, Megumi summons his dogs and sends them to look for the exit. As you sprint down straightaways, Nobara intermittently sticks a few nails into the walls, essentially creating security sensors that will trigger if Satoru passes by it. It also helps establish what paths you’ve already explored and where you need to go next. In what feels like seconds, five minutes is gone and your heart drops as you see a black veil descend over the maze. The atmosphere of the maze feels electric, like wind before a storm, and you nervously laugh and urge the students to move faster. 

“So, are we ever going to talk about you and Gojo?” 

“That’s what you’re focused on right now?” You shoot back in amusement and Nobara shrugs, sending another nail into the corn with a strike of her hammer. “I don’t think this is the proper place to have this conversation!”

“So, are you two actually dating? Megumi won’t say anything, but he’s a terrible liar when we ask if he knows something!”

“I think the latter shooting ominous strikes of lightning into the air is a more pressing issue!”

“Lightning strikes which, I’ll add, are increasingly getting closer!” Yuuji’s voice rises to a panicked yelp and you curse in disbelief as your group slams into another dead end, giggling from sheer fear and swatting the students to find another way. All the while, blasts of pure Cursed Energy fly upward like fireworks, illuminating the field in terrifying shades of blue and red. “Any status on the nails?”

“He just passed the third one closest to us,” Nobara reports, face slowly losing color as the most powerful sorcerer in the world hunts you down. “You can’t send Nue to stall him?”

“You think a bird is going to stop Gojo Satoru?” 

“Well, your damn dogs haven’t come back yet and we’re running out of options–” The back-and-forth is cut short by a faint howl coming from the back right corner of the maze, just a few hundred yards away. One of the dogs appears from the floor, hooking a sharp right turn that has you four stumbling to catch up to it. The howls continue, as do the strikes of lightning, while you follow the dog to what you assume is the exit. “The nails haven’t picked up his energy signature in a while,” Nobara informs you in slight relief while the howling grows closer with every step. Yuuji’s mouth breaks into a victorious grin, but you and Megumi aren’t convinced. 

“Does that mean we lost him? Or did he get lost?” 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” you mutter low enough for only Megumi to hear and he nods in agreement. “I don’t feel him anywhere.” 

“That cracking behind us is just the corn, right?” Yuuji’s voice becomes uncertain and the static in the air only becomes more palpable. You’re so close to the exit and you can tell he’s getting nearer, but something in your gut tells you that you can beat him. But, Nobara’s realization makes your blood run cold. 

“Wait, I don’t sense any of my nails anymore–” 

“Found you.”

Your throats rip a collectively brutal screech as Satoru’s voice seems to come from directly behind you, and you glance backward to only see a pair of knife-sharp blue eyes staring through the black corridor of the maze. Colorful curses of fear babble from the mouths of the students and you slam your feet even harder into the ground as you sprint for the exit. The bright lights of the pumpkin sign were in sight; you just had to make it a little farther. 

“Elephant, elephant, elephant!” Yuuji’s suggestion comes out as incoherent yelps and he tries to fire off black flashes to no avail. Megumi looks at him like he’d grown four new limbs. 

“What?!”

“Summon the fucking elephant, Fushiguro!” A nail rockets away behind you only to be immediately sent back, embedding itself in the husk by your feet. 

“I hate to break it to you, but the elephant isn’t going to do anything when–”

“When I’m already right behind you,” he whispers directly into your ear and you scream as his footsteps line up with yours and his arms snake under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weighed no more than a cotton ball. He disappears with you into darkness, firing off a single precise attack that cuts the lights of the entire exit so that the path is pitch black. Somehow, you end up outside of the maze while the three students continue to panic inside and he gently sets you on your feet. His menacing aura disappears in a blink and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, his arms holding you close by your waist. “I found you,” he says with a smile. 

“You did. I know you always do, eventually.”

“Mhmm. Did you have fun?”

“Honestly, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire existence,” you laugh, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him even closer. He chuckles warmly, ironically just as quiet as the fearful bickering of your students in the maze. You barely feel any sweat on his forehead against your shoulder and you can’t even imagine how messy you looked after running for your life. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

“You’ve never looked prettier,” he murmurs, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your cheek. “We should probably go grab the kids.” You hum absentmindedly, vaguely making out the voices of Megumi and Yuuji trying to figure out which way to go. 

“Stay here a little longer. Let them think you’ve taken me away to your scary vampire lair, or something.”

“As you wish, sweetheart. I'll be your scary vampire anytime.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.  “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

-

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away. 

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together. 

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family. 

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.” 

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.” 

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of. 

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night. 

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by. 

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?” 

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.” 

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?” 

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.” 

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special. 

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle. 

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.” 

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.” 

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly. 

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

��See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding. 

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.” 

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck. 

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other. 

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store. 

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.” 

“Sick!” 

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?” 

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight. 

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment. 

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go. 

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“She’s got a stick up her butt.” 

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now. 

“Lucas! Language!” 

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-” 

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night. 

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.” 

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent. 

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…” 

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike. 

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy. 

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.” 

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him. 

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood. 

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins. 

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys. 

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will. 

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him. 

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street. 

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy. 

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour. 

– 

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school. 

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat. 

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift? 

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later. 

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class. 

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English. 

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. 

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-” 

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you. 

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault. 

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice. 

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark. 

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else. 

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other. 

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart. 

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up. 

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail. 

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?” 

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.” 

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt. 

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you. 

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind. 

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him. 

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you. 

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.” 

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan. 

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today. 

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.” 

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins. 

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can. 

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears. 

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters. 

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed. 

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t. 

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” 

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.” 

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave. 

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it. 

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality. 

“Holy shit, did I hit you?” 

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.” 

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?” 

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” 

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. 

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead. 

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.” 

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!” 

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance. 

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.  

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual. 

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise. 

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones. 

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.” 

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.” 

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.” 

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys. 

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.” 

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels. 

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face. 

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone. 

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now. 

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside. 

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed. 

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans. 

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path. 

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.” 

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone. 

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.” 

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.” 

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says. 

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off. 

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.” 

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit. 

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…” 

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in. 

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.” 

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit. 

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them. 

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him. 

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.” 

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving. 

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe. 

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys. 

“Byers!” 

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception. 

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize. 

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends. 

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for. 

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second. 

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well. 

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it. 

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well. 

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.” 

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks. 

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case. 

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and  you know that nothing will be the same again.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

[etheries1015]

I've been watching Disney's "The Princess and the Frog" and I've been thinking about a request based on the scene where Naveen makes a dinner for Tiana where he intends to confess to her. I wanted a request like that with Floyd x Yuu and unlike the film, Floyd manages to confess. And maybe there's a little dancing too

I would be very happy if you placed my request, I will wait patiently for it :)

I LOVVEE DISNEY MOVIESSS bro my friend has never watched The Princess and the Frog and I lost my mind. How have you NOT watched only one of the most amazing disney movies to exist?! Insane. BUT YES I like this!

Floyd Confessing his feelings to you

Based off of the princess and the frog scene <3

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

TW: None! Just fluff, and awkwardness!

The night was young, the stars were shining bright overhead smiling down at the eager boy. Floyd wasn't all that familiar with customs about love and affection, but he knew the moment his heart fluttered simply seeing you complete tasks seemingly so mundane making him blush sent him into a frenzy. Love and Floyd? The two in the same sentence sounded completely insane!

But when Floyd says he is in love, he truly commits to the bit.

There he was, leading you by the hand much to your surprise and mild amusement.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked the tall male, who flashed you a charming toothy grin and a giddy chuckle.

"It's a surprise, shrimpy. To celebrate somethingggg.."

You eyed him curiously as you entered the Octavinelle lounge, seeing it so deserted besides strung up lights and plates of food neatly upon the table caused you to gasp in shock, almost tearing up at the sight and near notion that somebody would take their time to prepare such a grandiose display for you.

"It's for you! Do ya like it?" Floyd almost sang, pulling out a rose, "I heard this is the best way to romance someone. Is it working?" You almost burst out laughing, but you just knew he couldn't help but be honest about his intentions, one of the many things that you loved about this merman.

"Nobody has ever done anything like this for me," You replied with affection, gracefully grabbing hold of the rose from his hand and taking a quick smell and observing it. When you looked back up from the flower, you noticed Floyd suddenly had a...rather large bowtie on that you knew for certain was not there before. It almost looked silly, the way it was bigger than his neck and flared out in such a...flamboyant way. You pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back the laughter that threatened to reveal itself, biting your bottom lip and nodding in 'approval'. Floyd noticed this and with a blush upon his embarrassed cheeks, he was quick to remove and throw aside the article of clothing.

"you're right, I knew it was too much," Floyd grumbled, eying a corner of the lounge where the strung up lights did not touch.

"I thought it was a nice touch..." You heard a hushed and disappointed voice from somewhere unknown to you, your eyes searching the room before Floyd grabbed you by the shoulders to avert your attention to the table neatly put together.

"Pretend you didn't see that. Or hear that." Seeing the normally suave and outgoing male so shy and flustered, you couldn't stop the smile on your lips widening at such a rare sight.

"Floyd- the seat- the seat!" Another voice that wasn't so discreet called out, Floyd gasping and running to your side before you had the chance to sit down.

"Let me- uh- here. I mean- have a seat," He pulled the seat out and invited you forward, pushing it in, "I saw this in a movie-"

"don't admit that!" ...said the voice from nowhere to be seen. You pressed your lips together tighter, trying not to howl in laughter. This was all just too cute...you've never seen such a side to him, and his grand gestures of gentlemanly was so out of place for his personality you couldn't help but bite back your giggles of amusement.

"Shut up Azul!" Floyd whisper-yelled back to a dark corner of the lounge. Noticing your skeptical gaze, Floyd ran over to one of the tables to grab a silver platter, bringing it to you and opening the lid with excitement in his eyes in hopes to distract you from the bickering.

"Oh? what's this?" You cooed, tilting your head as he brought over the large platter.

"Ta-Daaaa~" He sang, removing the lid. Upon seeing the dish he had prepared, you gasped and clapped in excitement.

"You made it all by yourself!" You cried out, noticing the plate of pretty (surprisingly) well-prepared food that you recall teaching him how to make some time the months prior. Floyd puffed out his chest in pride and nodded firmly.

"Yeahh! I did a good job, riighht?"

The "empty" corner coughed an obvious "pushy" cough that was seemingly a cue for the hopeless romantic to begin his actual speech and cut the small talk.

"Y/n!- ah-" He interrupted himself, "Sorry that was kinda loud...uhh..." You could see him begin to sweat bullets, his eyes wavering as he looked in panic anywhere but you, shaky hands pressing against the table.

"I'm just gonna say it. Among all the people i've dated-" You raised an eyebrow and nodded awkwardly, folding your hands and waiting to see where he was going with this. Floyds jaw slacked open for a moment of realization.

"wait- no. Jade said I can't bring up dating anyone else. Even those were just play dates when we were kids. And they were all boring" Floyd pausing mid-statement and attempting to bring the conversation back to the point.

"B-but you're not boring! You're amazing! like- uh-"

"Play it cool!" The mysterious voice threw out a word of advice.

"Like one of the guys-"

"Not one of the guys, you idiot!" Azul (it was fairly obvious who the voice belonged to) chastised him.

"Ehh?? Than what do I say?!"

"How you feel, brother." Jade followed.

Floyd must have been focused too much on driving the conversation how he had wanted it to, leaning all of his weight onto one side of the table causing it to tip over, the silver platter and the tall male both falling to the ground with a loud "bang!". You could hear slaps from the corner of the lounge, presumably one or two other people slapping their foreheads in astonished embarrassment for their friend and brothers hopeless attempts.

"uughhh.." Floyd whined like his usual self, "This isn't going how I wanted it to." when you finally couldn't hold it back any longer, you burst out laughing with hands holding your stomach. Floyd sat up in annoyance and looked at you with sadness glinting within his multi-colored eyes, his lips forming a pout.

"I get it, itsa disaster..." You shook your head at his woeful comment, wiping a tear from laughing.

"No," you gently replied, "it's cute." You wiped off a piece of food that stuck to the top of Floyd's head, bending down to his level and kissing his cheek.

"Floyd, I don't need all of this fancy stuff. Just tell me how you feel your way, because I like you for you, and wouldn't want a confession any other way." He sat in silence, blinking once, blinking twice, before also bursting out in laughter. Floyd pulled you down into his arms and hugged you tightly, before spilling out his heart bluntly and honestly as he should have from the beginning.

"I see our work here is done," Jade said to Azul, taking his shoulder and leading them out of the lounge, "They have it under control now, so it seems." Azul scoffed and adjusted his glasses, eying his messy lounge.

"After they are done being lovey and dovey, I will be charging them a cleaning fee...look at that mess...it'll take special services to get that sauce out of the flooring!"

"For now, let's just be happy Floyd will stop bugging us about his crush."

"...I suppose your right, that in itself is payment enough."

So they left you two giggling and now throwing food at each other, in the fun way that is unique to your love.

<3

[knnichs]

WHAT A STAND UP GUY!

— neuvillette’s ideal way of “making up” to you is going to a corn maze. you’re deathly afraid of mazes. (and spooky things in general.)

c. neuvillette

t. gn!reader, modern setting, horror elements (jumpscares, suspense), mentions of blood, its just a corn maze (he says), wc: balls IM KIDDING… 2.3k

m. @mikashisus @mitsvriii @lowkeyren @https-sourlimes @akutasoda @tragedy-of-commons @/stellaronhvnters

happy stellaween folks, i chose the prompt CORN-MAZE!!! (creator comments at the end)

“I didn’t take you to be a horror fan, Neuvillette.”

There's barely any light in the room at all—save for the eerily placed candles and lanterns—it’s dark, it’s stuffy, and uncomfortably cramped for a lobby. For a corn maze, you’d expect an open area for the registration. Apparently, this one was a little more extra with the planning and design to the point where they made sure there was absolutely no way you could see the maze, which adds to the surprise and spooky factor, you suppose.

“You learn something new everyday,” your partner, the main cause of the ‘death due to corn maze fright’ incident of Stellaween ‘24, looked at you with curiosity.

“Frightened already? We haven't even entered the maze itself yet.”

“I am not frightened,” You said, clenching your jaw. “and—this place… Er, whatever the hell this lobby is supposed to be, is dark and cramped. That's two things you should never mix.”

“Sure. Everything you say must be true, no?” He laughed before moving forward to the glass box. 

Even the registration itself was on theme. The glass had several minor cracks, there was one that went all the way from the right side to the end of the left. Fake cobwebs everywhere, an obviously cheap jack-o-lantern with an electric candle inside of it is placed on the middle of the desk, a huge sign on top of the little box that has ‘SIGN UP (don't let it chase you)’ written in a dark red with exactly three handprints on random areas.

The design is cheap, cliche, and too common. It’s something you’d find everywhere—but the sounds playing through the hidden speakers and fog is what enhances the ‘spookiness’ everything has. How nice, even the staff dressed up for the occasion. The employee on the left had face paint similar to a  skeleton, and the other was a… Bloody nurse?

You get the tickets, (un)fortunately. The cashier pointed out a rule they had for the maze and that was no other than a ‘strictly no refunds’ policy. 

Great. This day has truly been going the way you originally wanted it to.

Two days ago, you texted Neuvillette saying you wanted to go to the theater. There was a specific musical that was showing for a halloween special, you had been interested in watching it for a while now. Of course, Neuvillette being a busy man, you had to first ask if he could go so you wouldn't risk wasting money on an extra ticket. Sadly, he took way too long to reply. He had seen-zoned you for days before finally saying yes, this morning. You didn’t secure the tickets to the show, and it was a limited time thing. You’re not that bummed out about it anyway, he shortly apologized to you in person and said he would make it up to you.

That’s exactly what led you to this situation right now. With a heart rate going up to 98 as you slowly make your way to the entrance of the corn maze. With how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself—you never liked corn mazes. One thing that made you dislike it was a movie showing two characters, a boy and a guy, running around before the boy eventually disappears. The whole point of the movie was showing how fast time flies. Although it wasn't exactly a horror show, it certainly made you fearful that you, too, would disappear if you entered a corn maze.

Many thoughts scatter in your head as the ushers bring you to the gates. The only thing separating you (and Neuvillette) from a self-proclaimed ‘scariest corn maze’ was two hollow pieces of wood with, you guessed it, fake blood all over it.

“Is this your idea of salvaging a relationship with me?” You muttered, genuinely questioning the man beside you. He just nodded—saying ‘It’s really not that bad if you think about it.’ and going on a short-lived rant on how everything is fake.

“Please ensure all your belongings are safely kept in your bags, we are not liable for any damage or lost property.” One of the ushers reminded the two of you, “Once you’re ready, just look towards the camera over there and shout; ‘Stellaween’.”

“What will it be used for?” You wondered, looking at the direction they pointed at.

“Ah, well you signed a waiver that you were allowing the two of you to be recorded, did you not?” 

Right, you completely forgot about that. There were cameras that were going to record the ‘jumpscare’ moments. Did you agree to it? You had zoned out during the registration, you don’t remember a single thing. But of course, Neuvillette nodded, saying that you did.

Some god must’ve cursed you with bad luck today.

Not only will you enter, possibly, one of the most nerve-wrecking places you’ve ever been to, you’ll be recorded while doing so. Each reaction, each scream—and if you do die from fright, it will be because of some cliche, overboard, corn maze.  Will that be on your mural? 

“Come on,” Neuvillette whispers, egging you on. He puts your hand in his, squeezing you a little to give you some motivation. Of course, he would be with you every step of the way. “I’ll keep you safe, my dear.” 

You look at him—you would trust this man with your entire life, you think.

“Would you like one of these?” The staff shows you a long, orange bandana. “You can wrap it around your wrists, a lot of recent explorers have done this method to ease some of their worries. It’s safe in there, no need to be scared.”

Neuvillette takes the bandana and thanks the worker. He works fast, tying the piece of cloth between the two of you with ease and skill. 

“Let’s go?” He asks, brushing some hair behind your ear and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead to give some encouragement.

To his surprise, you quickly nod your head after three deep breaths.

Similar to the lobby, the maze itself is also dark. And cramped. With tall cornstalk, it's hard to see anything beyond the area you’re in now. It’ll be difficult to cheat your way through this. Neuvillette is still holding your hand as you two take a few turns, you had honestly thought he would let go by now—then you realize you were the one squeezing his hand so hard, as if he would run away from you the second you’d let go.

There are a few lanterns scattered throughout, and some candies to lead the way. You don't dare pick one up though, you wonder how long it's been there or how many people have already stepped on it. Suddenly, a groan can be heard from… Somewhere, in the maze.

“Neuvi, you don’t suppose there are actors in the maze, do you?” You ask, worrying about any possible ‘jumpscares’, as the staff had mentioned before you entered.

“It wasn’t listed in their advertisement post…” He hummed, bringing a hand to his chin as if trying to remember the details. “…No. No—I don’t think there was ever something stating there were any actors, nor anything saying that there wasn’t.”

Shit. 

A distant humming, followed by a groan, and a click.

You grab Neuvillettes arm, basically hugging it like a koala would. Looking around, you try to see if there was anything at all—any indications that someone was coming.

Click.

“My dear, I’m with you.” He brings his free hand to rub it soothingly against yours. Warm and comforting. You relax a little, that is until you notice the clicking noise was getting much, much louder. “There’s no need to worry. They aren’t real.”

It didn’t take too long for you to realize that—yes, there are actors in the maze. Yes, there are a bunch of them. All dressed up in different costumes; one a vampire, a ghost, another a werewolf, and a zombie. All have some sort of red in their outfits, smudged fake blood (or is it paint?) across their shirts and faces. It’s so overdone, but seeing it in person makes it absolutely horrifying.

There are about four of them, two are chasing Neuvillette, and the other two are chasing you. You bolted as soon as you noticed them, and the bandana tying you and Neuvillette together had loosened—leaving you with no companion in a dark, cramped, absolutely horrible corn-maze. This had to be your no-good, very-bad day.

Silence fills the air. You managed to mislead the actors to a different part of the maze, and you hid underneath a desk prop, for god's sake. You take your phone out from your bag, trying to contact Neuvillette, except you see the empty bars on the top screen. No signal.

Recounting your series of unfortunate events today:

You didn’t get to watch that halloween-special-limited time show.

Neuvillette’s idea of ‘making it up to you’ is by going to a corn maze.

Tickets are non-refundable, so you’re basically forced to go.

There are actors in the maze. They can run.

You just lost your only companion—and there's no signal.

You can't believe you have to put an ‘and’ in your imaginary list. By the looks of things, you might even expect something else happening right this moment, maybe a few minutes from now, once you crawl out under the desk.

You turn off your phone and turn it back on again, hoping the signal thing was a joke your eyes played on you (it wasn’t.) There’s nothing you can really do right now except think about what exactly pushed you to be confident and fearless before entering the corn maze.

Neuvillette just had to be your partner—he just had to have the most obscure ideas of apologizing. A corn maze, out of everything he could’ve chosen to do to celebrate the spirit of halloween! It wasn’t having a nice, peaceful picnic. Nor was it just carving out ridiculous faces into pumpkins, or watching a simple scary movie—No, it just had to be a corn maze! A first hand experience on becoming the main character in a horror film where they have to escape the crazy murderer with an equally crazy looking hatchet!

God, you needed to take a deep breath to calm your mind. Whatever’s going through your head is making you sound like you were going insane. 

“—Come on, I’m right here.” A voice says in the distance. Now that you think about it, it sounds somewhat familiar. 

There's a flash of the familiar white, long hair you’ve grown accustomed to. Did the actors chase down Neuvillette, steal his outfit, and his hair? You truly hope that wasn’t the case, that they weren't pretending to be that one person you find comfort in. Well, in this case, the only thing you find comfort in right now. 

Either way, this is a do or die situation (not really, you just like exaggerating things.) If you don’t come out of the desk, you doubt that Neuvillette would spot you, even if it's an actor or not. You can always tell them to break out of their role and take you out of the maze safely. So, slowly, you stand up from your hiding spot—risking yourself to be exposed to any actors who may be waiting to ambush you. You close your eyes shut and just pray that Neuvillette will spot you.

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The voice says, gradually coming closer. Warm arms envelop you in a tight hug, hands rubbing soothingly on your back. Immediate peace and comfort in a moment of fear—truthfully, you would only get this feeling from one specific person in your life. You return the hug, allowing your rapidly beating heart to calm down now that you’re safe.

“Are you okay?” You nod to the question, allowing yourself to just breathe in this moment.

“We can stay like this for as long as you want to, my sweet.”

It takes a bit before you clear your mind. 

“That maze was nothing,” you brag—quite confidently too. The two of you had just finished taking a photo in the booth, and are just waiting for the photostrip to get printed. “It was so easy after all. The only thing that made it the least bit scary was the actors.”

“You’re acting as if you didn’t just sob the entire way to the exit whining: ‘Neuvi, I was soo scared. I almost died!’” He crossed his arms, imitating your voice with an overexaggerated high-pitched tone.

You huff, “Whatever! I got chased out by a werewolf and a vampire. That's a deadly combo, I say. Plus, they had like—fake blood all over them, you’d actually think they murdered someone!” 

“Sure, I’m sure it was just as frightening as you make it out to be.” Neuvillette had the nerve to laugh at your fears.

Your photo drops from the printer, but you don’t ever recall doing two. As you pick them both up, the first photo was the one you had taken in the booth not too long ago, and as for the second… It was the one where you and Neuvillette realized you were being chased. A QR code on the side saying: ‘VIEW YOUR VIDEO HERE!’

“Yes yes, I can already read your mind. I won’t send it to anyone, don’t worry.” Neuvillette laughed—once more—at the fear in your face. 

You don’t have to think about him showing it to others, I mean, he wouldn’t do that. You only need to think about the sheer amount of teasing you will get from this man for an entire week. And next year, when it’s halloween season once more, you doubt that Neuvillette will ever let you forget what exactly happened in this—the (self proclaimed) scariest corn maze of 2024.

creators comments. i know i said id be on break but the network said ‘writing event’ and i rushed to gdocs as soon as i could 😁🫶 requests are still closed however ,,,!!!!! ANYWAY heres a silly little thing ,, neuvillette has been PLAGUING my mind ever since i finished the fontaine quest <3 SO! i actually asked the srvr for their insights on who this should be about (i was torn between tighnari, neuvi, and thoma if i can recall that properly) and most of them said neuvi,, so here we are☺️ i forgot how to write and THATS IT!

[kayharrisons]

It's getting dark, darling, too dark to see [Bjorn x afab! Reader] [Part 2 of ?]

The first night is the hardest.

Previous

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A/N: omg I can't believe the reception on the first part of this!!! I had to start working on part two right away :) there will be MAJOR angst but a happy ending, I promise!! Also this is going to be more than one part, yay!!!!

Warnings for the series (updated, not necessarily for this chapter but for future ones): general alien themes, MAJOR character death, blood, graphic depictions of violence, trauma, trauma bonding, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!), technical cousin incest (Kay/Bjorn), childbirth and pregnancy, implied nsfw content, Bjorn and reader get a lil co-dependent I can't lie guys, protective Bjorn and reader

Yvaga is so green.

You both stand at the windows in the cockpit, staring out into the trees, the bright sky, the fluffy white clouds.

It looks like a dream.

"I've seen it," Rain had said, what feels like a lifetime ago. "In my dreams." she had smiled sheepishly, ducking her head down in that endearing Rain way.

She's been dead for almost ten years, now. They all have.

Turns out Cryo-sleep doesn't speed past the grieving process. Their deaths still feel raw and agonising, an open wound that's just had rubbing alcohol doused all over it.

"...they'd be nine, now," Bjorn says, his voice a whisper, a shadow of himself. His eyes are dark, stormy, glued to the bright blue sky. "My kid. The baby. If we'd never left home it... it would've been... should've been nine now."

You don't know what to say to that, so you settle for reaching over, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. His hand comes up to meet yours, giving it a squeeze, before his head ducks down.

"Thank fuckin' god autopilot can land itself," he laughs, bitterly. "We were always the fuckin' worst at flyin'."

You hiss through your teeth, rubbing the back of your head at that memory. You'd forgone your seatbelt the first time Bjorn had tried flying under Navarro and Tyler's watchful eyes. Bjorn had panicked at the crush and swerved, you'd gone flying right out of your seat and earned a hefty ten stitches in your scalp for your trouble.

Bjorn had apologised profusely, you'd gotten him back by struggling with the throttle on the damn hauler.

Thank god for autopilot indeed.

You land near a forest, programmed to be about two hours away from civilisation.

You can't help but feel thankful for that, not sure how up to people either of you are at the present moment. People meant questions. Questions meant talking about your crew, what had happened.

"So," Bjorn claps his hands together, speedwalking past his grief for now, as he leads you to the small kitchen. "Got enough rations for about a year, that's with six of us, though-" he pauses, wavering a little, before clearing his throat. "-so, we've got plenty of time to figure out whateva the fuck it is we wanna do next. Won't go hungry any time soon."

You nod, scanning over the cabinets and shelves. Well stocked, clearly the others had been hoarding their rations for some time in the hauler, or making trades on the underground market. It's where Bjorn and Navarro used to get the good cigarettes, after all.

"I imagine we'll step out eventually, right? See exactly what Yvaga has going for it beyond a nice sunset." you remark, plucking out a packet of dehydrated corn bread. You rip it open, popping a chunk in your mouth, before offering the bag to Bjorn, who immediately tears into it.

"Could use a nice sunset," he huffs, shrugging at you. "Not like we've got any immediate plans for the evenin', right love?"

You relent with a grunt, taking the bag of cornbread back from him when he offers it. "Right." you agree, looking at him. He's leaning against the counter, arms crossed firmly across his chest, his head ducked down ever so slightly. You glance down, lips twitching at the sight of his bare legs.

Somehow, that feels like the most alien thing you've seen lately.

"We should probably put pants on, huh?" you remark, and Bjorn blinks at you, eyes darting down to your own bare legs, then back up to your face.

"...I dunno. S'kinda freein', innit?" he jokes, shaking one of his legs at you. A snort makes its way out of you, and he grins, putting his leg back down. "Probably, though. Don't wanna get told to fuck off for runnin' around in our skivvies, we just got here an'all."

"It'd be such a pain in the ass," you agree, nodding your head. "Would have to plot a whole new course and everything, then fuck about with the cryo fuel. Easier to just put on pants and avoid the risk."

Bjorn groans, all the way back to the locker room as he rummages around his backpack to grab another pair of pants to shove his legs into. You follow suit, sliding an old pair of cargo pants up your legs.

Neither of you talk about the five other bags and sets of personal belongings hanging up on hooks and shoved into lockers.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It doesn't take long for Bjorn to get a fire going.

The hauler's doors remain open as you both sit outside, perched on a log before the little firepit Bjorn had put together. You've had your rations for the night, and some old-Earth song plays from the cassette player that Tyler had brought on board. Everyone had brought a varied mix of tapes.

This one was Bjorn's favourite, though, full of a bunch of rock songs he'd always had playing in the background as he helped Navarro with her tinkering, or when he was having a drink or two at home.

You both stare into the flames, cans of untouched beer in your hands. Aspen, you fucking hate the stuff. Bjorn had brought it onboard, though, and it was the only booze you had.

"...is it horrible that I kind of just want to go to sleep?" you ask, and Bjorn snorts, head lolling over to look at you. The flames dance over his pale face, illuminating it in the dimming daylight.

"Haven't had enough of that have ya?"

"Doesn't feel like it," you sigh, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, breathing the clean air deep into your lungs.

Bjorn grunts, looking away from you and focusing his eyes on the orange sky. "Know whatcha mean. Doesn't feel like any time's passed at all. Which is the point, I know, but..."

"Kind of wish it had, a little."

"Yeah," he agrees, before finally cracking open his can of beer. He holds it aloft, looking at you pointedly. You follow suit, and he taps his beer can against yours. "To the others."

Your throat feels tight at that, your eyes well up. Bjorn's own are misty, but you'd never dare remark upon it.

"To our family." you correct, gently, and he inhales sharply, before nodding.

"To our family."

You both take sips of the shitty beer, legs lightly touching as the sun sets, as the sky darkens.

You can't find it as beautiful as people described it, however. Not with the heavy weight of loss upon yours and Bjorn's shoulders.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

You take the top bunk at Bjorn's insistence. He slips into the bottom bunk, the electric stun baton clutched tight in his fingers, his back to the wall and eyes staring out at the open space.

You don't comment on it as you clamber up to the top bunk, staring at the metal ceiling. Years of etched doodles, of signatures, of stickers and posters. All there for you to see.

You roll onto your side, facing the opening of the bunk. Your breathing slows, evens itself out, and yet the sleep you've desperately been craving evades you.

The ship is quiet. Everything all locked up and turned to off. The only sound is your breathing, Bjorn's too quiet for you to pick up on from the top bunk.

You don't know how long you lay awake, staring at the metal vent across from you, head aching more and more as you lay there unable to sleep. It's frustrating, sure, but you're rather numb to feeling anything else but grief.

Despite the grey of the ship, all you can see is red.

Red, as Navarro's chest burst open. Red, as Kay's blood splattered the glass. Red, as Tyler's warm, thick blood dripped down onto you. Red, as Kay's life drained from her. Red, as Rain's helmet was broken and she screamed for you to leave her.

Even Andy, as he twitched on the floor, choking on the white of his blood.

The silence is what kills you.

The ship has never been so quiet in all its life (of course, save for those 9 years you and Bjorn had been in cryo). It's unnatural, it makes your skin crawl.

Until, that is, you hear some muffled noises from the bottom bunk. You shift, propping yourself up on your elbows as you listen.

A sniffle, a shaky exhale, a shuddery inhale. A muffled cry.

Your heart twists as you realise what it is.

Bjorn is crying.

There's some shuffling from beneath you, and the noises muffle themselves. You're sure if you looked down, you'd spy Bjorn with his head buried in the pillow, trying to silence himself.

The urge to get up and comfort him is overwhelming. To hold his hand and grieve together, to try and get through this first night.

But you know him.

You've known Bjorn since you were eleven, both gangly awkward children. You've known him nine years, seen him at his best and worst. Seen him when grieving his mother, how he'd shut down towards everybody barring Navarro and... Kay.

You roll back over, electing to face the wall as the muffled cries continue. He doesn't need comforting, now, as nice as it would be to help him through it. No, he needs to grieve, needs this private moment to himself. You know he'd just end up clamming up with embarrassment if you tried to talk to him now, probably spout some bullshit about how men don't cry, fuck off.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, clutching the blankets tightly.

Neither of you sleep that first night.

[mediumgayitalian]

The rules of Persephone’s garden don’t apply to him.

He’s not entirely sure why. He’s mortal, or at least half. No ichor flows through his veins, not that it helped Persephone. Perhaps it is because he already spends so much of his time in his father’s kingdom; perhaps the Fruit of the Underworld has lost its potency so far removed from the Ancient Lands, so long after Pam’s death.

Regardless, Nico gets to indulge.

Anything from the roundest, sweetest apples to the bitter tang of pink grapefruits, he has sat under the poplar trees and devoured. He likes fruit more than any other food group, more than any other taste. He has always had a sweet tooth. And his eyes eat as much as his lips, drinking in the glimmering sheen of dimpled lime peel and delicate pearls of round concord grapes. He has made himself sick eating strawberry after strawberry.

But his favourite, without question or pause, is a clementine.

The best he’s had, secretly, was not in his stepmother’s garden but in a tiny orchard in Algeria. Engineered for generations by human hand and grown under wide, sparkling sun, the skin had been bright and fragrant, pith minimal and pleasantly bitter, and thin-skinned globules of flesh so plump with juice they’d begged to be burst under his teeth. He’s dreamed about those clementines every week since he’d eaten them. If it wouldn’t kill him, he’d jump to the north African country every day and buy them in swathes.

Unfortunately, at camp, he’s stuck with what he’s got.

But they aren’t so bad.

“You have a sweet tooth worse than anyone I’ve ever met,” Will grumbles, poking at his shoulder. “And when she was 11, Kayla lived off Nerd ropes and Gushers for two months.”

Nico cracks a smile. “Kayla’s continued existence astounds me.”

“I do genuinely think she’s a medical marvel.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

“Believe me, I wasn’t planning on it.”

For a while there’s nothing except the tearing sound of Nico ripping off the peel of his citrus. He’s skilled enough to remove it in one go, but sometimes, as a random challenge, he tries to remove it in a certain shape. Today, for no particular reason, the peel comes off in the shape of a heart.

“I can feel you eyeing this,” he says, shooting an exasperated look over his shoulder. Will smiles small and guiltless, in response, raising and dropping his shoulder.

“Dunno what you’re talking about. Just wishin’ you’d eat a vegetable or two.”

Liar. Well, that exact sentence isn’t a lie — Will is such a bad vegetable pusher that he is often teased about secretly owning a farm — but it’s not what he’s thinking about. Nico isn’t stupid.

He sighs. “Here,” he grumbles, wedging his thumbs between the two hemispheres of the fruit and tearing. “You can have half.”

Will brightens. His smile is like clouds clearing, like the give of a snapping elastic. Startling, demanding, storm-cracking and loud. Eye-catching in every possible way.

“Thanks!”

He holds out a cupped palm, and Nico rests half the fruit inside it, fingers brushing the heel of his hand for no justifiable reason. It’s callused — most of his hand is callused. Nico wants to trace the outline of them, with his fingers and then his tongue.

He watches as Will brings the fruit to his mouth, happily munching on the whole thing without bothering to separate the sections, like always. Nico winces.

“You’re barbaric.”

“It goes to the same place! There is not logical reason to eat it section by section!”

“If the sections weren’t meant to be eaten one by one, they wouldn’t be naturally separated, you heathen.”

“Corn is naturally separated. D’you eat that kernel by kernel?”

Nico hates being friends with smart people.

Will laughs, and Nico’s eyes flutter shut, savouring.

“That’s what I thought.” He pops the last bite in his mouth, chewing and swallowing and smiling his dazzling smile, after, sticky citrus juice making his lips look shiny. “Thanks for sharing, Neeks.”

“Course,” murmurs Nico quietly, hiding his smile behind a segment of fruit. “Anytime.”

[sugarbombs-n-stuff]

Companion's Comfort Foods

(I didn't include Ada and Codsworth cause they don't eat)

Cait: Cait's comfort food is cottage pie (which is shepards pie with beef instead of lamb). It was on the food rotation at the combat zone before the raiders took over and it brings back good memories of her first few years of freedom. Cottage pie and a beer is a good supper for her.

Curie: A bowl of sugarbombs. It was the first meal she had after she got turned into a synth so she's grown really fond of it. She likes cereal in general so if you sit her down with some and a puzzle, she'll be so happy, though she does like eating while talking to a friend.

Danse: When he was in the BOS it probably would have been coffee seeing as the food really wasn't great. It was pretty much flavorless chicken and mashed tatoes and the thought of it made his stomach churn. A cup of coffee however was guaranteed, and it was good every time. After BB no questions asked his comfort food is beef(brahmin) stew. Sturges makes some flavorful, mouthwatering, downright sinful tasting food and you'll always see Danse first in line whenever it's the stew in particular that's being made. He also likes to dip some cornbread in it, and it isn't uncommon that you'll see him patting his stomach after eating like some midwestern dad.

Deacon: Roasted mutton on fry bread with hot peppers. Deacon was raised on Lake Mead by his mom and grandparents. His grandma was Navajo, so they always had something with fry bread and meat, normally bighorner meat. The mutton became his favorite though. It's a wave of nostalgia every time he takes a bite. He doesn't really have it anymore, partly because of he can't really get it in the commonwealth and partly because even if he makes it, it's never as good as his family makes. A big stupid smile is on his face whenever he visits his mom, and she makes it for him. Though he hasn't been out there in a while, too busy helping the Railroad.

Dogmeat: Dogmeat will eat anything, and he doesn't really have a comfort food. His favorite food though his dried brahmin ears,

Strong: Pre War Strong and Super mutant Strong actually agree in this area, his comfort food is still ribs. Pre-war, he liked dry rub ribs that make your mouth water and stomach grumble when you look at them, he was damn good at making them to cause he learned from his grandad so anytime he made them he thought about him. Now he likes raw brahmin ribs. He isn't picky anymore and doesn't care as long as he eats but if he really concentrates, he can still hear a deep laugh like rolling thunder and smell a hint of spice when he takes a bite.

Preston: Rabbit Stew. Growing up with his auntie on far harbor he ate pretty much everything, mans was a human garbage disposal. However, he had broken his leg when he was 10 and his auntie made him rabbit stew. They sat in the bed and laughed and joked for hours as she told him stories. His big brother even joined them and joked around too. Now every time he makes it, that memory is at the front of his mind, it causes a smile to sit on his face for the rest of the day afterwords.

Piper: Her dad used to make cabbage rolls with corn and rad stag. She still makes it for Nat but when she starts cooking it, she swears she can hear her dad talking her through how to make it for the first time. She doesn't let herself get sad at the memory when she's cooking, she embraces it. She keeps promising to teach nat how to make it but she's kind of swamped with work at the moment, but they have it every week they can afford it.

MacCready: Like danse he also likes stew however his comfort food his mushroom stew. He remembers eating it in Little Lamplight and when he takes a bite suddenly, he's Mayor MacCready sitting with his pals and getting irritated at Princess again. He also thinks of him chatting with lucy, both as kids and adults and gets a comforting sadness for a little afterword but comforting none the less.

Hancock: Him and his brother used to make fruit jam growing up and would sell it in Diamond City market. He still makes the jams now with the help of Daisy and sells them in her store. His mind wanders and he wonders that if things were different between McDonough and him, if they would still make them together. His brother's favorite was the dandy boy apple one so that's his comfort food. Dandy Boy Apple Jam.

Nick Valentine: Coffee. Nick doesn't eat much and human nick really only ate out of necessity. Ellie makes him a cup every morning and they talk before they get to work. Good memories are enjoyed over coffee and that's good enough for Nick.

X6-88: When he was in the institute he liked the coconut nutrition pouches but he wouldn't classify it as a comfort food because he was a machine that didn't need comfort in his or the institutes eyes. Now that he runs around with sole survivor though, his comfort food is braised deathclaw with rice. It's extremely filling, and he thinks of that first night he was assigned to Sole and they made them this. It was one of the first times he seriously considered being something close to human.

Longfellow: Roasted Fog Crawler with black beans and a side of scotch. He cooks well and he actually really enjoys it. Whenever he cooks, he gets peace and peace is comfort. Not to mention the whiskey settles his soul for a bit.

Gage: Spicy Curry. He learned to make this dish originally from his mom and for a while after becoming a raider he didn't touch it again cause of the memories. Eventually though, one night when he wasn't thinking about it, he started taking out the ingredients to make it. Muscle memory is a bitch but he's not going to waste food and when he took that first bite, he heard his mom singing in his brain and telling him to wash up after. It's rare when he does eat it but when he does you might be able to hear him humming as he makes it.

[raven-dor]

there he goes

In which conrad fisher makes up with his best friend, and she realizes that she has feelings for him

PAIRING: conrad fisher x reader, jeremiah fisher x PLATONIC!reader, isabel conklin x PLATONIC!reader, steven conklin x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: allusions to a past argument, heartbreaking fluff, angst, one-sided crush, underage drinking, loneliness

WORD COUNT: 1,832

AN: this is an excerpt from a WIP on wattpad!! just wanted to get a feel and see if anyone would be interested in this even being published<3

Laurel laughed at the spread on the kitchen counter. "I thought we were keeping dinner simple."

"It's Belly's sweet 16. Is Connie done shucking the corn?"

Y/N shrugged, filling up the vases for the flowers. "I don't think so." 

Susannah sighed. "Can you go check for me?" 

She nodded. "Sure." She pushed open the kitchen door and walked slowly down the steps to the landing. Conrad looked up, smiling lightly.

"Your mom sent me down here to see if you're almost done shucking the corn." She looked behind him, noticing that there were only three left. "I'll let her know." She turned back around, walking back up the steps.

Conrad called out. "Y/N/N..." 

She stopped but didn't turn around. "Yeah?"

"I- I'm sorry." She took another step up the stairs, a hand wrapping around her wrist. Her breath hitched, and he slowly turned her around. She tried to look anywhere but his eyes. He had always made her break when she looked into his eyes. "Y/N/N, look at me, please." 

"I can't." She shook her head. "You know I can't." 

"Y/N/N..." 

She shook her head, turning back around. "We can talk later, Conrad." 

"I'm sorry, Y/N/N. For everything." He stood at the bottom of the steps, watching as she turned around. "I'm sorry for everything." 

She sighed. "Why are you being so mean?"

He shook his head. "I'm not being mean-" 

She walked down, meeting him at the bottom. "I don't mean right now. I meant in general. Trust me, I get it. You're dealing with a lot." She looked up at him delicately. "But why did you do that?"

He reached his hand out, grabbing hers, studying the way her fingers looked. "I just- I didn't want to hurt you more. Because I was-" 

"That's what I'm here for." She smiled. "Not for you to hurt, of course-" 

He nodded. "I got it. I'll never hurt you again." 

She laughed, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "Don't make promises that you can't keep." 

A voice coughed, and she jumped, pulling out of Conrad's reach. "I- I'm going back inside." She rushed up the stairs, through the kitchen, and onto her bed. 

She grabbed her pillow, screaming into it. "What is happening to me?"

Y/N settled into her seat, grabbing a lobster and some salad. Since Cam was now sitting in her normal spot, she was placed in between Susannah and Conrad, not that she minded. Conrad's leg nudged hers, laughing at her flower crown. 

"You look-"  

"So Cam!" Jeremiah interrupted the comforting chaos that had erupted, the table quieting. "You mind if I call you Cam Cameron?"

Cam laughed. "Yeah, man. Feel free, that's funny."

Susannah smiled. "I'm glad you're here, Cameron. I know your mom, Denise, from the club." 

"Thank you so much for having me, Susannah! My mom says hi."

Laurel walked in, handing out her homemade miyeok-guk. 

"Cam, have you ever had miyeok-guk before? It's a Korean birthday tradition."

He shook his head, grabbing the bowl from her. "No, it looks so good, though. Thank you." 

"Belly told me you're vegetarian, so I didn't put any meat in it."

Cam smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Laurel, geez." 

Jeremiah interrupted again. "Why don't you eat meat, Cam Cameron?"

"Uh, the meat industry is like the number one contributor to global warming. And I just like animals." 

Jeremiah tilted his head. "Hm." 

Taylor grinned, looking down the table. "Just don't come for my leather jacket." 

Steven muttered. "I'm pretty sure you mean pleather." 

Jeremiah laughed. "Ooh!"

Taylor flipped him off, the boys laughing at her actions. 

"You know, Belly eats meat. So, you let her kiss you with those lips?"

She groaned, shaking her head. "Guys..." 

Cameron shook his head. "No, I don't judge people for eating meat. It's just a personal choice. I don't care." 

"So you don't mind if her lips touch a dead animal, and then those dead animal lips touch your lips, right?"

Belly smiled tightly, kicking Jeremiah under the table. He winced. 

"I don't mind at all. Um, in fact..." He leaned over, kissing Belly lightly. Y/N smiled. It was nice to see he wasn't giving in to the bullying. Or teasing, as Jeremiah and Steven called it. 

The boys started gagging, and Y/N glared at them. "Can you not? I'm trying to eat. I don't need gagging noises in the background." 

Jeremiah smiled guiltily. Steven spoke up this time. "I'm sorry, I just don't understand why anybody would want to kiss somebody who once fully shat in a bathtub." 

Y/N sat down her fork, glaring at the younger boy. "Really, Steven? We're trying to eat here." Conrad laughed.

Belly glared at her brother. "I was like two years old." 

Steven's face contorted. "Two, more like six." 

Laurel stared at her son, signaling him to stop. "Shut up, Steven." 

Taylor sat forward. "I remember when I visited last summer, and you and you," She pointed at the Fisher boys. "Dared him to pee in the fireplace, and you stunk up the entire house for days. Do you remember that?"

Y/N laughed, holding her stomach. "God, that was horrible." 

Steven sighed. "We were drunk. We were drunk." 

Belly rolled her eyes. "On like half a White Claw." She laughed, looking over at Taylor. "You know, I'm thinking maybe we should go to Nicole's party." 

Conrad looked down at his plate, playing with his food. Y/N cleared her throat. "You okay, Connie?"

He nodded, but she could tell that he didn't love the idea of everyone being there. Or maybe it was the idea of Belly and Nicole being in the same room. 

Either way, her stomach was twisting, too. Just for different reasons. 

Y/N tried to contain her laughter as Steven and Jeremiah screamed the lyrics to "We Are Never Getting Back Together." They had quite literally only been in the car for five minutes before Steven snatched the phone from Jeremiah's hands and put on Taylor Swift.

They pulled up to the house, parking on the side of the driveway. Steven whipped around, glaring playfully at the two in the back. "Do not ever tell Belly I did that." 

"Sure, Steven." She grinned, holding up her crossed fingers. "Promise." 

Conrad laughed, shutting the car door. "No promises, man." 

Y/N laughed alongside him, humming. "Wonder if Belly's here yet." 

Conrad shrugged, pulling her towards the kitchen. "I need a drink."

Y/N sighed, following silently. His shoulders were tense, and he was constantly looking over his shoulder. She just hoped that-

"Conrad!"

And there was Nicole. She looked gorgeous and Y/N... well she felt underdressed now. Nicole turned towards the girl, smiling just as wide. "Hey Y/N, cute top." 

She was so nice. Y/N took a quick sip of her beer, smiling. "Thank you. Pacsun." 

Nicole nodded, looking engaged, but Y/N knew she wanted time with Conrad. She smiled again and walked backward. "I'm gonna go find Jere." 

Conrad tilted his head. "We just got here. Give me two seconds, and then I'll come with you." 

"No! I mean..." She laughed awkwardly. "It's fine. I have to talk to him about something anyway. I'll see you in a bit." 

She stumbled through the crowd,  almost smiling at who she ran into. "Taylor, hey!"

Taylor smiled blankly, glaring at her drink. "I met Nicole." 

She laughed, looking out at the crowd of drunk teenagers. "Not a fan?"

"I—" she huffed. I know we aren't that close, Y/N, but can I tell you something?" 

She nodded quickly. 

"I feel like I'm losing her. Belly."

She sighed, facing Taylor. "You're not going to lose her. You're best friends. She'll always need you. Besides, Nicole is just doing her 'big sister' duties. She's not going to steal her. I don't think anyone could do that." She stared back at the crowd. "Trust me." 

Taylor hummed, and they stood in silence for what seemed like forever. Y/N huffed, looking over at the younger girl. "I'm going to go find Belly. You want to come with?"

Taylor shook her head, and Y/N walked away towards the foyer. "So Nicole, you and Conrad a thing or what?"

She stopped, listening in on their conversation. "I think or what." 

"Wait, you live with him. You should know what he's up to. Has he been hanging out with other girls this summer?" 

"Just Y/N, but you know them. Two peas in a pod." 

Her heart dropped. God, she really didn't want people even thinking that she and- She stormed through the foyer and dodged past Conrad, who was talking to some other locals from Cousins. His voice definitely called her name, but she ignored him and grabbed a bottle of vodka. 

There had to be an empty room with access to the roof somewhere. 

It felt like it had been hours since she had found this spot, sitting securely on a spot on the roof that had a perfect view of the moon. 

She used to look at the moon with her dad. She used to look at the moon with-

"Y/N/N?" She almost scoffed, not even bothering to look towards the window. "What are you doing up here? We've been looking-" 

"No, you haven't." 

"What do you mean no we haven't?"

"I mean, no, you haven't. I've been up here for like two hours, Conrad." 

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't- I'm sorry. I just need to be alone, okay?" She lay down, staring at the stars once more. "Just leave me alone." 

Silence followed, and she assumed that he had left, but when she heard the window close and his steps grew closer, she fought the smile that was forming on her face. He lay next to her. "We haven't done this in a while."

"Connie..." 

"Y/N..."

"You don't need to lay next to me just to make me feel better."

"Can't I just lay next to my best friend?"

Her stomach twisted, and she told herself it was from the copious amounts of alcohol that she had ingested. "How's Nicole?"

His voice sounded careful. "She's fine." 

"Just fine?" She turned her head, looking at his side profile. He was- "She was talking about you." 

"Yeah?"

She hummed, still staring at him. "She likes you a lot." 

"That's good." 

"Yeah." She turned back to the stars. "You ever think we're too close?"

He laughed, like actually laughed. "No, I don't. Do you?"

"Sometimes." 

His smile fell, and it was his turn to look at her. "Why's that?"

"I don't think your girlfriends appreciate it very much. Me being your best friend." 

"Nicole's not my girlfriend, and even if she were, she'd have to get used to you." He nudged her and scooted closer. "You're my best friend." 

"I know." She closed her eyes, her heart shattering into a million pieces. "I know I'm your best friend, Connie. You're mine too."

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch14

Here it is guys the trial chapter. WARNINGS: Fluff, Mentions of Sex, Trial Inaccuracies, Mentions of Child Loss and Angst. (The picture of naked Glen was the inspiration for a scene in this so you're welcome)

The next morning you woke to Jake leaving kisses on your shoulder. “Morning babe”, you said. “Mornin’ Darlin’ how did you sleep?”, he asked. “It was great”, you smiled. You turned to face him and snuggled into his chest. “You have training today?”, you ask. “Yeah but Maverick said something about a later training schedule for this week”, he responded. You kissed over his heart and started to move lower, but Jake grabbed your arm to stop you. “Not until the doctor says you can remember”, he scolds. 

You huff as he pulls you back up and kisses you on the lips. “What do you want to do today?”, he asks. “Maybe we can ask the others if they want to go out for lunch”, you suggest. “Well I guess you can send the word out and see what they say”, Jake says getting up. You watch as he walks to the bathroom and you have to bite your lip as you watch his naked ass disappear into the bathroom and groan. “Damn this injury”, you curse as you get up to get dressed. Jake walks back in and starts to get dressed.

The text you send just asks if anyone in the dagger squad wants to meet up for lunch and that they can bring a plus one if they so choose. The texts roll in so fast that you can’t keep up with them. Everyone has agreed and Bradley tells you he is bringing his girlfriend. You tell Jake as you then send out another text asking where everyone wants to eat and what time. Within thirty minutes everyone agrees on a taco bar and a time to meet.

“We have a couple hours to kill before we have to be there. Do you want to get the grocery shopping out of the way?”, you ask. “Yeah let’s go”, he responds. When you get in the truck Jake turns on an old country station then holds out his hand. Once you're buckled in you take his hand and he pulls out of the parking lot. The store was pretty laid back this morning, mostly elderly people after church had let out. You grab a cart while Jake walks beside you. 

“What do we need?”, Jake asks. “Well we need a little bit of everything due to the fact we haven’t shopped since coming back from Texas”, you reply. You weave in between carts as you pick items that you need to stock the fridge and cabinets. Jake gets the heavier things for you and every once in a while asking him to get things on the top shelf. You can’t help but watch his shirt ride up when he reaches up. He smirks knowing that you’re doing it on purpose.

“Oh can you go get the bread we passed it already”, you tell him. He goes in search of the bread as you bend slightly to grab some cans of corn. When he comes back around into the aisle he can’t help himself as he lightly swats your ass. You squeak and jump a little as you turn towards him. “Jake, don't start a war here”, you hum. “Wouldn’t dream of it darlin’ “, he drawls. When he reaches for another item you swat him just like he did with you. He turns to give you that ‘your in trouble’ smile.

You laugh any time he pinches your ass or swats you, and he does the same when you do it to him. A little old lady watches until you send him on a search for another item. “Oh honey you both have it bad for each other”, she speaks. “It’s that obvious”, you say. “Me and my late husband God rest his soul were like that when we first started out. You hang on to that one and tie the knot if ya’ haven’t already. Love like that is hard to find”, she says. “I’ll keep that in mind”, you tell her.

 “He is handsome and by the looks of him he is probably great in bed too”, she chirps. You go red with embarrassment as the little old lady laughs. “Oh honey it’s alright don’t think for one minute that our generation wasn’t jumping each other's bones no matter what they tell you life was like back in my day”, she says. You laugh with her at that comment and when Jake comes back he has this confused look on his face. 

“What did I miss?”, he asks. “Oh I was just telling your woman here that she better hang on tight to you”, she laughs again at her little joke. You can’t help but laugh harder at her little joke. Poor Jake stands there still looking confused as the lady tells you both to have a blessed day. “So you going to tell me what that was all about?”, he questions. “She just told me we were a cute couple and that I should hang onto you because you’re a good one”, you say.

“Well was she wrong?”, he asked. “No she isn’t wrong I intend to hold on tight”, you reply. Jake pulls you in for a kiss and takes your ass in his hands and groping you. You swat at him as he laughs in the middle of the aisle. Eventually you both had everything that was needed as you both made it to the cash register. You separated the items to pay for your things so Jake could pay for his. “Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t pay for groceries”, he tells you.

“Jake I couldn’t ask you to do… wait are we a couple again?”, you asked. “Well I thought I made that clear back in Texas, but I would like to be able to call you my girlfriend again”, he said. “I’d like that a lot actually”, you say. You had yet to forgive him for dumping you in the first place, but he was making it hard for you to continue being upset about it. While leaving the grocery store Jake places his hand into your jeans back pocket. 

“You are making it really hard not to jump you before my recheck appointment”, you gripe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about darlin’ “, he replied. He helps you load the groceries and when you got back to the apartment you grab a couple of bags as Jake grabs several. “What are you doing?”, you ask. “I’m not making another trip back down here”, he huffs. “I swear men are all the same in certain aspects”, you say. He makes it into the apartment when several bags fall or split open. 

You can’t help but double over in laughter and pain at Jake’s annoyed face. “I would have made it to the kitchen if it weren’t for these shitty bags”, Jake grumbled. “Oh I’m sure casanova”, you smiled. That nickname was new and he liked it as you continued to giggle to yourself. “Darlin’ I got this if you want to go get ready for lunch”, he offers. “I’m already ready to go and you seem like you could use the help”, you reply. 

After putting the groceries away the both of you didn’t have to leave for another hour. Jake sat down on the couch turning on a rerun. You walked over and straddled his lap as he raised a brow at you. You go in for a kiss as his hands go straight for your hips. You continued to kiss him and grind down a little to tease him. He moans as you swallow it with another kiss and then another. “What if I control the pace?”, you hum, as you grind down again. “Darlin’ as much as I want to, I'm not going to. Not until you're cleared by the doctor”, he groans. 

“Just you wait. When I’m healed I’m tying you down and using you as many times as I want. Call it a start at redemption for leaving me in the first place”, you say getting up and walking away. “You can’t say things like that”, he grouches. “Well in your words the doctor has to clear me first”, you recall. Jake feels like he is going crazy because all he wants is to give you what you want. He also doesn’t want to hurt you because he would never forgive himself if he did. An alarm from your phone jolts him out of his thoughts as you announce it’s time to go to lunch. 

When you get to the taco joint Nat and Bob are already there. Next to stroll in is Bradley and his new girlfriend, then Coyote and a woman with a toddler, then Payback and Fanboy. You soon learn that the woman with Coyote is his wife and the toddler is their daughter. You adore her immediately as she makes grabby hands at Jake. “I’m her favorite uncle”, Jake boasts. “You keep telling yourself that”, Coyote replies. 

Everyone goes quiet when Nat asks how you have been holding up. “I’m doing alright. Still have some pain when I laugh or lift something I shouldn’t”, you explain. “Jake told us that you have to testify in court. Are you going to be okay without Jake being there?”, Bradley asked. “I.. wait what do you mean without Jake being there?”, you ask. Jake seems very upset with Bradley, but he turns back to you.

“I’ll be going on a mission with the rest of the squad, but I already talked with Colton, Evelynn and Bull. Bull is going to be there for the entire trial so you won’t be alone. I hate that I won’t be there darlin”, he says. You know that there is nothing Jake can do and you can’t be angry with him, but you were slightly panicking at the thought of Jake not being there. When lunch was over Jake took you straight home and went to his room telling you to stay in the living room. 

You sat on the couch waiting for him and when he came back he had something in his hands. “I want you to have these and remember I’m with you when you have to testify”, he tells you. He kneels down and has you hold out your hand to drop something cool into your palm. When you looked down it was a pair of dog tags. “These were my old set and I swore to myself I would never give these to someone I didn’t trust”, he tells you. 

You tear up knowing what this means to him and pull him in for a passionate kiss. “I want to tell you something I rarely tell anyone”, you say. You pull Jake’s hand to make him sit beside you. “I told you about my dad, but I never told you about my mom”, you say. “Bradley told me you rarely talk about her”, Jake said. “She was the greatest mom anyone could have had. She was the one that got me into riding horses. She was so strong and I wanted to be like her so bad when I was little”, you stated. 

“I went to college and I was half way through my studies when I went home for break. I was dating my ex before I left for college and I went to stay with him. Well the night that I told him I was leaving him and he tried to suffocate me I called my mom. She was worried as hell and told me she was coming… to…to get me….and take… me home”, you stutter. The tears come fast as you try to get through telling Jake what happened. He doesn’t move not knowing where this is going.

“She picked me up and I told her I would drive. I must have hit a patch of ice and slid into a creek. I remember the freezing water came pouring in and the panic in my moms voice”, you sob. “I hadn’t put my seatbelt on, but my mom had hers on and it locked. I tried so hard to get that damn…belt off, but no matter…how hard I tried it wouldn’t let…go”, you continue. 

“I remember her…telling me… ‘just go baby I’ll be alright. Your father has waited long enough’. I almost drowned trying to save her. Another driver saw what happened and called for rescue, but by the time they got there she had drowned. My brother blamed me for what happened and cut me out of his life. I went back to college to get away. I went to a party the baseball team was holding and that’s how I met Bradley. He shared what happened to his parents and I guess we trauma bonded”, you laugh through tears. 

Jake doesn’t waste another second before pulling you into him to hug you. He is fighting tears of his own as he realizes how traumatic that must have been. “I’m so sorry that happened to you and I am so sorry I made you go to the creek when we were down in Texas. Had I known I never would have taken you there”, he says into your hair. “It’s alright my parents loved the water and we spent weekends on lakes when dad was home. I actually like the water. I feel connected to my mom when I’m in water”, you state. 

You both sit in silence for a while until you realize you hadn’t forgiven Jake and he would be leaving soon for a mission with the Dagger Squad. “I forgive you”, you whisper. “What?”, he questions as he pushes you back a little to look into your eyes. “I said I forgive you. You leave for a mission soon and I don’t want anything left unsaid between us. I forgive you for the breakup”, you tell him.

His smile is genuine as he pulls you in for a gentle kiss. “I just wish I could be here for you when you have to go to the trial”, he says. “I’ll have these and they will be close to my heart the entire time”, you reply. You pull back a little to put the dog tags on then decide to make dinner. Jake helps you as you get into that familiar rhythm of dancing around each other to make said dinner. You steal kisses every once in a while and once the dinner is cooked Jake pours two glasses of bourbon.

“That dinner was amazing”, Jake says. The two glasses of bourbon making him sleepy as he yawns. “Maybe we should head to bed”, you tell him. You both brush your teeth and you tell Jake you will be in the bedroom in a minute. He strips to nothing and gets into bed to wait for you. You look in the bathroom mirror as you tease your hair to make it look tousled. Jake was plugging his phone in when you walked in wearing only his dog tags. 

“Darlin’ you’re killin’ me here”, he groans. “Well you’re the one that said no sex until the doctor says I’m cleared for physical activity”, you taunt. “I did and I’m going to stand by that”, he replies. You snuggle into his side as he wraps his arm around you. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about your mom”, he whispers. “Thank you for trusting me enough to give me these”, you reply, grabbing his tags. “I love you darlin’ and I know that we are going to have our ups and downs, but every couple does. I promise to try and work through our problems together”, he admits. “Same here babe”, you yawn. 

Jake watches as you sleep until he falls asleep as well. The next morning he wakes to a glass breaking in the kitchen he slips on a pair of boxers and slips into a pair of slip on shoes. “(Y/N) are you alright?”, he asks as he rounds the corner. You hold a piece of paper and he can tell by your face that it’s the court summons. “(Y/N)”, he calls again. This time you look up as you realize what you had dropped. “Shit I’m sorry I got distracted”, you reply. 

You start to clean up the glass as Jake grabs the broom and dustpan to help you. “Are you alright?”, he questions. “I have to testify and for once I feel like I’m in control”, you reply. “That’s my girl”, he says as he wraps you into a hug and kisses the crown of your head. “I wish I could be there for you”, he sighs. “You will be right here”, you tell him, tapping his dog tags. He smiles happy that you find comfort in them. 

When Jake has to leave you drive him to the same drop off point. He watches the tear fall down your cheek as he steps forward cupping your face in his hand and wiping the tear away with his thumb. “Wait for me?”, he asks. “Always”, you reply. You both share a kiss that lasts longer than you expected until Coyote yells for him to hurry up or they’ll be late. You watch him walk away as he will be gone for four months this time. 

You go back to the doctor a couple days later where he clears you for work and physical activity. Penny is glad to have you back and you had to admit you missed the Hard Deck. It was like another home to you as the date for court kept getting closer. Penny had agreed to take you to the airport and it wasn’t until you were on the plane when you started to panic. You wanted Jake here with you when you remembered the dog tags around your neck. You held onto them until the plane was in the air imaging flying with Jake.

It had only been a month but his absence was felt every time you saw a jet fly over. You had sent a letter to him telling him that the doctor had cleared you and that you were nervous, but ready for the trial. This time Bull was there to pick you up from the airport as you ran to hug him. “How’s the toughest gal I know?”, he questioned. “I’m still kickin’ like a mule”, you respond. “Well the guys are excited to see ya”, he tells you. “I think the only thing they miss is my cookin’ “, you laugh. 

Bull laughs as you both make your way back to the ranch. You decided to get there a week before you had to testify so you could prepare. The ranch hands let you ride out with them for a couple days and beg you to cook for them a couple of times. You thanked the youngest one for riding back to the house to get help when you were shot with a small cake, and the rest cookies for being there for you. “Yer spoilin’ em”, Bull told you. “Well they deserve it don’t you think”, you reply. 

Bull is worried about you the closer the date gets for you to testify, but you seem to be doing alright. The day you have to testify you wake up before the sun and Bull drives you to the court house. Bull can’t help but notice how you fidget with dog tags. “Those your dads?”, he questioned. “No their Jake’s old set”, you reply. “He must truly love you hun. A man that gives something that personal has to be in it for the long haul”, he says. “Did you give your wife anything when you were dating that was similar?”, you asked.

“I did. I gave her my fathers old war medal”, he replies. The rest of the ride he talks about his wife and you listen intently. “I think I would have liked her”, you say. “She would have loved ya hun”, he replies. “Why do you say that?”, you ask. “We had a daughter that was still born and after that she was always trying to fill that void ya’ know. I just wish she were around to meet ya”, he tells you. “I would have loved to call her my second mom”, you say.

The courthouse came into view as you made your way inside. When they called you to the stand the defense lawyer grilled you hard, but you stuck with your story never wavering. The whole time your ex sat glaring at you, but you stayed strong and held onto the dog tags. When they were done with questions you were able to take a seat. From what they had told you before you testified it was an open and shut case. The trial only took a couple of days and when the jury went to deliberate you sat with Bull.

When they came back with all they had charged him with he got thirty-five to life in prison with no possibility of parole. You blew out a breath you had been holding as Jackson went ballistic. Bull pulled you behind him as he tried to reach you calling you a lying bitch before two police officers took him away. Bull took you back to the ranch right away and took you out to camp for a couple days. You spent some time with Evelynn and the kids for a day before you had to head back to San Diego.

You were feeding little Jake while Georgia and Annabelle asked you questions. Evelynn and Colton stepped out onto the back porch. “Did you see what (Y/N) has been wearin’ around her neck?”, Evelynn asked. “A pair of dog tags?”, Colton questioned. “Not just any pair of dog tags. They are Jakes old set”, Evelynn says. Colton seems lost as he waits for Evelynn to elaborate. “He swore he would never give anyone those tags if he didn’t plan on bein’ in it for the long haul”, Evelynn smiled. 

“We’ll see some guys say that and it don’t really mean anythin”, Colton responded. “I know my brother and I guarantee she is the one”, she hums. “I’ll believe it when I see it”, Colton responds. When you have to leave Bull takes you to the airport. “I told Evelynn I was going to be sending letters to keep you informed about what’s happening in San Diego”, you tell him. “I’d like that. Stay safe hun”, he tells you. You both hug before you have to go through security and wait to board your plane. 

When you got back to San Diego there was a letter waiting for you from Jake. You tore it open and started to read it. ‘Dear (Y/N), I love and miss you so much. I’m sorry I’m not there to celebrate your medical release, but when I get home be ready for the uniform ;) Maverick appointed me as team leader this time and I’m not sure I’m up to the task. I hope the trial goes well and they put that fucker away for a long time. I hope to see you in a couple more months. Love, Jake'.

You smile as you write a letter back and include a photo of you holding baby Jake with Georgia and Annabelle sitting on either side of you smiling. You had no idea the stress that Jake was feeling this time around. Rooster was his wingman and he was worried of a repeat of losing someone. He was sure you would never forgive him if anything happened to your best friend. The only thing helping him was the picture he would take with him and put in his cockpit.

[bruisedboys]

honeybody — “call me, even if it’s the middle of the night” w neighbor!eddie brock!! i’m not sure where exactly my brain was taking me with this but it feels right in my heart

roma!!! this was so fun to write thank youu so much for the ask. eddie brock hottest man alive

fem!reader x neighbour!eddie brock (no venom lol sorry)

Eddie’s been watching you for an embarrassing amount of time. He can see you out of his kitchen window, and although he’s supposed to be doing the dishes, he keeps glancing out the window in hopes of catching another glimpse of you.

You’re re-painting the side of your house with a fresh coat of paint, perched on a ladder that doesn’t look too safe, if he’s being honest. Paintbrush in hand and a paint pot balanced precariously on the ladder rung next to your hip, you’re very immersed in your work. Which is lucky, otherwise you probably would’ve noticed his staring.

Eddie finishes washing the dishes (which took him about an hour, what with all the spying on you) and he’s about to go and see you — purely to check the stability of your ladder, of course, nothing else — but before he can work up the courage there’s a yelp from outside followed by a thud that sounds suspiciously like Eddie’s too late.

He races to the nearest window and peers out and his heart drops when he an empty ladder. Soon enough he spots you, lying on your back in your well-tended grass. He doesn’t think. He’s out the door in a matter of seconds.

“Y/N!” He calls, rounding the fence that separates your houses. The heap on the grass that’s you lifts it’s head. “Y/N, are you alright?”

You sit up just as Eddie reaches you, rubbing the back of your head, dazed. “Eddie?”

Eddie doesn’t have time to think about how pretty you look right now. There’s a paint splotch on your cheek and the same colour is speckled all over your fingers. He gets to his knees in the grass.

“Hey, are you okay?” His hand finds your shoulder. “Did you fall?”

You giggle. “No, I just decided I’d lie on the grass for a bit,” you deadpan. “Yes, I fell, Eddie, but I’m fine.”

Eddie doesn’t even half believe you. His hand slides to the space between your shoulder blades. “Are you sure? You were pretty high up.”

He realises a second too late he’s exposed himself. You seem to realise the very same thing.

“Were you watching me?” You ask, squinting at him, but you’re smiling at least.

Eddie backtracks. “What? No, I just— I saw you out the window, and—“

“I’m joking, Eddie,” you laugh. “Help me up, will you?”

He helps you, wondering how on earth you manage to be so pretty and funny and sweet all at the same time. He feels dizzy when he stands, even though you’re the one that fell off a ladder.

Once you’re standing you try to take a step but your success is short lived. The second you put weight on your left foot you’re hissing in pain.

“Ow,” you groan, toppling sideways into Eddie. He catches you, thankfully, one hand gripping your forearm and the other around your waist. He’d think about how close you are to him but he’s too busy worrying. He can think about it later.

“What’s the matter?” He demands, panicked now that you actually look like you’re in pain, your face all screwed up and your hand clinging to his elbow.

“My ankle,” you explain, pointing in the general direction of your foot. “Hurts.”

Eddie, heart racing, manages to get you to your porch and sit you down on one of the chairs. He props your foot up on the little table you sit at to read in the mornings. (Not that he watches you read in the morning. He just happened to notice it a few times.)

He assesses your ankle and deems it sprained. He takes you inside and puts you on your couch while you complain.

“Eddie, seriously, you don’t have to do this. I’m fine, I can—“

“Do you have ice?” He interrupts your pointless rambling as he straightens up from helping you into your seat.

You frown at him, all fake offended. It’s awfully cute. “No. But I have frozen corn. In my freezer in the bottom drawer.”

Eddie leaves to find your frozen corn and when he comes back he finds you slumped on the couch, looking tired and defeated. You’re both silent as he lifts your foot onto the coffee table and presses your pack of frozen corn kernels against your ankle. When he finally looks at your face you’re smiling at him, droopy eyes and all.

“Thanks,” you say. “Feels nice.”

Eddie chuckles. “Mhm, I bet it does. You know you should be more careful. You’re lucky it’s not broken.”

You rolls your eyes, a smile on your lips. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m not kidding around,” Eddie argues, “Really. Next time just ask me and I’ll come over and paint it for you.”

There’s a silent promise in his words. Yeah, he’ll paint your house. He’ll do whatever you want him to do. All you have to do is ask.

“Okay,” you say, your voice taking on this soft, sweet tone that feels both familiar and foreign all at once.

Eddie straightens up, deciding if he stays here any longer he might fall in love with you. As if he hasn’t already.

“Keep it elevated,” he tells you. “And keep the ice on it. I’ll come check on you in the morning, okay? But call me if it gets worse. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”

You grin at him and give him a tired salute. “Thanks, Doctor Brock.”

Eddie grimaces at you. “Don’t ever call me that again, please.”

You giggle. “Sorry. Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, totally lovelorn. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

He finishes the paint job for you. And he brings dinner over, even though you tell him over the phone that he doesn’t have to. It’s safe to say he’s fallen even harder than you.

[pandafishao3]

TEASER Breeding/Lactation

YOU GUYS I went right ahead and did it, didn't I. I wrote an AU for my Milk Farm AU where Steve has Bucky as a private little cow hybrid in his own farm instead of a big factory and I am NOT SORRY. The full thing will be posted during Kinktober but for now, please enjoy a little teaser! I am seriously so excited to share this with you all, I cannot WAIT till Kinktober!

Steve yawned as he poured coffee into a cup and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The mornings started early out on the farm. The sun had just started climbing over the treeline across the golden rye fields, and it made the rustic kitchen warm and cosy. The little cottage had been in his family for generations, but Steve really felt like he’d added his own personal touch to it by re-painting the kitchen a soft green and building a proper dining room table out of sturdy oak wood. The clunky ceramic cups and white, embroidered curtains all spoke of the work of his mother, grandmother and great-grandmother, however. Steve liked the reminder of them, especially now that he was left to manage the farm alone.

“Meow?”

The sound of his cat Alpine jumping on top of the counter and chirping as she trotted towards him made Steve smile. He reached out his hand and she immediately buffed her fluffy, white head against it in a friendly gesture.

“Hi Al. Where you’ve been? Out wreaking havoc in the stables?” he winked at her and she promptly sat down and started licking her paw like she’d never done anything wrong in her whole life. In her mind, she probably ran the whole farm.

Steve huffed out a warm laugh to himself and went back to his coffee. But when he reached into the fridge, he noticed that he was completely out of milk. Oh well. He was heading to the barn anyway – the only reason he was up with the rooster was so he could get the milking done. After pouring Alpine some wet food, Steve took his coffee cup and went outside.

The flannel shirt he was wearing over his worn, patched jeans would be too hot in a few hours, but for now it was just perfect. Steve fondly watched his chicken pick at the corn on the ground as he walked past, and made a mental note to himself to go check on the rhubarb after this. He would need to tinker with the tractor too, since it had been acting up lately and it almost time to bring in the very first harvest of the summer. The barley would be done in a week or so.

But before that, he looked forward to spending the morning with his favourite pet.

“Good morning, my little moo. You up yet?” Steve smiled as he walked into the small barn. In the corner, his two goats and their babies looked up at him lazily and then went back to resting. The kids bleated and then ran out of their hatch to play outside, so Steve was in no hurry to take care of them. They pretty much took care of themselves, and he mostly used them for company and as lawnmowers.

But his little moo was a different story.

“Bucky? Where are you, honey?” he sing-songed as he walked further down the aisle. There, in his stall, his beautiful cow hybrid looked up from the mound of straw and blankets where he slept. His pretty little face instantly lit up in a bright smile and he mooed in that adorable way that only he could. “There you are! Are you still sleeping?” Steve teased him softly and leaned his elbows on the wooden door so he could watch Bucky struggle to get up.

Please let me know if you want any more of these teasers! Love you all <3

“Nooo, m’awake!” Bucky insisted with a cute pout and hurried to untangle himself so he could get to his owner. It wasn’t easy with his little hooves slipping on the floor and his tail getting caught up in the blanket, but he managed to get to his feet and tiptoe all the way to Steve. There, he immediately pushed up against the door and buffed his head against Steve’s chest, cooing happily all the time.

🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷

Credit for the header: Evangelitaa on Pinterest