#almost the whole beta gang is here

[mugwot]

the besties! them!

alt barnaby that i didn't have the heart to discard

[btsydtrash]

Ego [9]

mafia bts x stripper yn; hybrid universe

Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.

What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?

What happens when you find that you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?

Masterlist  /  i don’t have a tag list  /  find me on twitter  /  word count: 1.8k

AN: Here we go again! crime syndicate BTS X stripper yn. I’ll post this on AO3 too. Some of BTS are humans, some are hybrids. They all are obsessed with Reader. Reader is black in my headcanon.

(yandere / angst / gore / fluff / smut / violence / none )

trigger warnings: hey.... I'm back! yn is depressed. she's suffering a lot but she's not alone. nothing of significance. just needed to get this out after so long. I'll be back soon with more drama!

“Breaking News: The body of an African-American Beta hybrid was found dismembered and abandoned under a bridge in East Point. East Point is known for its houseless and opiate-dependent population. Many new strains of synthetic drugs are being released onto the streets, made accessible to vulnerable, unmated Omegas. Markings found on the body indicate the involvement of a gang widely known as the Dirty7s. The Dirty7s are an anonymous group with links to…”

The TV drones on in the background but you don’t hear it. Well, you can’t hear it. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything for the last few days. How many? You’ve got no idea. It’s been enough for your hair to start smelling bad anyway.

You walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel as you go, grabbing the big t-shirt with Thandi’s face on it and pulling it on. You had gotten a couple from the funeral from Thandi’s mom. She had made them, gotten them pressed at a local tailor’s place to raise some money for the funeral. You knew how expensive it was to die. Flashes of your mothers face fly in front of your eyes before you can stop it and they make you wince. You tried to pay but Thandi’s mom had refused your money. “My Thandi told me all about you,” she had said, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, but you didn’t complain. In fact, the sting-burn sensation grounded you, and you felt yourself get lost in her deep, knowledgable eyes. She might have just lost her daughter, but it seems as if she had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of pain. It made you ache. “You… You were her friend. She loved you so much.”

And then you felt it again, the guilt-driven nausea.

It was the first time you met her mom, but you knew all about her daughter, Sana. The young girl, only eight years old, stood solitarily, as the preacher droned on and on about ‘eternal bliss’ and ‘blessed memories’ and ‘living on in memory’. The expression on her face, you knew it so well. It was as if nothing was making sense to her mind. She was so sad, so lost, so lonely. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her throughout the funeral. She looked around at all of the people at her mother’s funeral, curious yet careful, quiet and withdrawn, before turning her eyes to the coffin at the front of the church and biting down on her bottom lip. She didn’t make a sound, not a peep - the whole time.

They opted for a closed casket because well… What other option was there? The truth of Thandi’s death wasn’t lost on the participants of her funeral but it was bad manners to bring it up. The thought alone was enough to bring bile to your throat so fast, it made your head spin. You rush to the bathroom and spit up in the toilet. Just a little bit this time, thankfully. You swill your mouth out and walk to grab something from the refrigerator. It took you days to realize that someone had come into your apartment while you had been at the funeral and had fixed certain things.

The fridge had been filled. The pile of dishes washed. The laundry had been taken and washed and returned all clean and folded. The bed had been spread. The rug had been moved around and vacuumed. The bathroom had been straightened out.

Once you had come to your senses, you burst into grateful tears.

You knew who it was.

He had left a t-shirt of his, saturated in his scent and so big it drowned your body in material, in your closet for you to sleep in.

You take a glance at the t-shirt again, wrapped around a big pillow on your bed, and you sigh, getting into bed once more, hair still damp at the roots of your head. 

Your phone lay on the table beside your bed, silent but charging, and you take a second to look at it before you grab it and make a call.

It doesn’t ring but for two times before you hear his voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello, YN,” Jungkook says, quietly.

You don’t answer. You can’t find your mouth, you can’t feel it well. Your tongue feels fuzzy and heavy, like a weight is sitting on it.

“YN…?”

Jungkook pauses slightly before the sound of him shifting his weight comes through the receiver.

He asks, softly, “Do you need me?”

You are still quiet, but you let out a light sigh through your nose. It’s the loudest you’ve been in days.

No. I don’t need anyone, you want to say. But again, more silence. Your tongue is too heavy. Your stomach is rolling and your head feels all loopy. You can't imagine where all these good hormones are coming from, flooding your system with flickers of light and ease and warmth and syrupy goodness.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, gently. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.”

Another sigh.

He takes a moment to think before he says, a certain chipperness in his tone, “Shall I tell you about my day, Pretty?”

A final sigh, and you turn over to your side, phone pressed to your cheek. If you were more present in your body, it probably would hurt.

Jungkook sounds as if he reclines in his seat as he begins telling you all about his day.

“It’s been mostly boring. I woke up at 5:30. I went to the gym for a couple of hours. I boxed and ran and did some weights. I think I could press three of you, you know, Pretty? You're so little compared to me. Sorry. I got distracted. Then, I showered and ate breakfast with Tae. You haven’t met him yet, right? I think you’d like him. A lot. Anyway. After, I met Jimin for some work-related stuff. Very boring. Do you want me to tell you about it, Pretty?”

He doesn’t let you get a sigh out before he continues.

“I didn’t think so. Then, after hours of back and forth, I went to go pick up my suit. We have a fancy dinner to go to this weekend. It’s Jin-hyung’s birthday.”

His voice gets all syrupy and warm, and it twists and rolls in your stomach all hot and uncomfortable. Why does his happiness make you feel so bothered?

“-and after we finish at DeMaggio’s, Joonie-hyung says we’re going on a helicopter ride around the city. Would you like to do that one day? Should I invite you? I can do that, you know. I don’t think Hyung would mind.”

The thought alone makes you snort.

He pauses and then, when he talks again, his voice seems relieved.

“You laughed, Pretty.”

You blink, somewhat surprised. He wasn’t lying. You did laugh, breathy and weak as it was.

“Pretty, you know I miss you so much, right?”

You close your eyes tightly at his words, lip getting sucked between your teeth.

He takes a moment to ask, quietly, almost needy, “Do you miss me?”

Your throat gets all tight and thick, and you feel horrible all over again. He hears you choke on something, because his voice gets all flighty, worried and concerned over the phone, as he peppers you with soft words.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Please, don’t cry.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

And then, he pauses and says the one thing you both craved and dreaded to hear.

“She wouldn’t want you to be this angry with yourself,” he says. Then, with more confidence, he claims, “You’re allowed to be happy.”

You cut off the phone before the sobs take over once more.

////

Jungkook taps the edge of his phone on the table a few times before he curses to himself. The wolf glances up from his spot in the corner of Yoongi’s office and asks, “You think I pushed her too much?”

 Yoongi looks over the top of his book and remarks, “It isn’t the end of the world, Kookie. Relax. You did a good job with the cleaner. She probably is sleeping next to the t-shirt you gave her and she called you, of all people she could’ve called.”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip and admits, “I’m getting frustrated.”

Yoongi pushes, lightly, “With?���

He puts the book to the side, knowing full well that he wasn’t getting any more ‘him-time’ while the wolf was occupying his personal office in their home. He loved each of his brothers dearly, however… Fuck, he needed his own place sometimes.

“Being patient,” the wolf explains, glibly. “It’s all so fucking boring.”

“Then occupy yourself with things that matter,” Yoongi suggests, moving to his feet. “I think Tae might be done with the guy downstairs, if you want a turn to pummel something moving?”

“The fucker’s still alive? Tae’s losing his touch,” Jungkook remarks, amusedly. He wasn’t lying. Usually, Tae would have had him chopped into tiny pieces and thrown into a river or incinerated. Jungkook wonders why he’s taking his time.

Yoongi snorts, pushing his glasses into his hair. He only needs them when his eyes start to get dry, like now. He usually didn’t use his other form, preferring to be in his natural hybrid state when in the comfort of their own home, but he’s been testing his personal limits recently, worried that he might freak YN out with his skin, his eyes, his tongue… She was prey, at the end of the day. He probably should have the lights off but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Not even. Jin won’t let him die. He keeps zapping him with the AFIB machine. I heard he shitted himself.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have been fucking around, pretending to be something he’s not,” Jungkook replies, an annoyed look passing over his face. The younger of the two moves to his feet and he asks, “Say, hyung.” His tone of voice catches Yoongi’s attention, so he sits up a little more in his comfy office chair, eye brow quirking so as to prompt the wolf to continue speaking. “Do you think YN will actually come to understand us?”

Yoongi pauses to mull over his answer for a few seconds before he answers, honestly, "I don’t think she has a choice.”

Jungkook acknowledges his answer with a melancholy look on his face.

Then, he glances down at his Rolex and makes a small noise of glee. “I’ve got a spare hour. I think Tae might be a little fatigued.”

Yoongi snorts before reaching back for the book. His eyes are getting awfully dry. Suddenly, the lights flick off and Jungkook glances back from his spot at the door, a narrow line of yellowed light slightly warming the room.

“Hyung, you know I always know, right?”

Yoongi scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, pup.”

Jungkook closes the door and Yoongi finally switches back to his natural form, eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his book once more, settling comfortably into his chair.

It just started getting good, too.

- end - 

Schemer (1), Abstentious (2), Thievery (3), Melancholy (4), Writhing (5), Lusting (6), Non-negotiable (7), Cutting the cord (8), Nevertheless (9)

[verstappentime]

here’s some sunday unfinished fic for y’all. max retired after his head injury at silverstone was a lot worse than irl. daniel’s his ex. charles calls when max has a migraine while they’re hanging out and he doesn’t know what to do, dan comes to the rescue. <3

Max looks up at him, exhausted, eyes glassy. There are tear tracks on his cheeks. Jesus fuck. “Hey, Maxy,” Daniel says, crouching down beside the couch. Charles hangs back, crossing his arms, looking at him disdainfully. Daniel can feel it even when he can’t see it.

“Daniel,” is all Max says, voice cracking around his name.

“Got your medicine, okay? It’s going to help.” Daniel can’t help brushing his fingers through the sweaty hair sticking to Max’s forehead. Maybe Max doesn’t want that. Maybe Max wants him to fuck off. He doesn’t pause to find out. “Sit up a bit more for me? Do you have something to drink?”

“On the table,” Charles says. Daniel squints, finding the glass in the dark. It smells like some sort of juice, maybe orange. Good, Charles listened about the sugar.

Max pushes himself up a little bit, enough that Daniel doesn’t think he’ll choke. It seems like even that’s painful, the way he pushes the heel of his palm against his eye. Max’s doctor always said it would be hard for anyone to understand how much this hurts him.

“Charles, can you get me an ice pack or something like that?” Daniel doesn’t bother turning to look at him. “Baby,” he says, softer, to Max, “Can you give me your hand?”

Max holds out his palm. It’s unsettling how little noise he’s making.

Daniel unscrews the top of one of the bottles and presses two pills into his hand. Max reaches for the glass, but when Daniel hands it over, he’s shaking and almost spills the whole thing. “Okay, nope, let’s have me do that,” he says, carefully prying it back.

“I can—”

“No you can’t,” Daniel says, because he’s not interested in Max’s pride. “Come on, I won’t drown you.”

It makes Daniel’s chest feel gooey and weird, cupping the back of Max’s head and helping him take a sip at a time. Max’s hand-eye coordination was awful in the first few days after his injury. They’ve been here before. Everything is just— different now.

He tries to keep talking, distracting Max from how intimate this is. “I got the beta blockers, the nausea stuff, painkillers, all that. Gang’s all here.” He hands another pill over. “I think these are the ones that taste bad, so take it slow.”

Max takes that one; Daniel tries to be careful with the juice. He gags, and Daniel can’t help steadying him by the shoulder.

“Swallow, you’re alright,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb in little circles. Max manages to take a deep breath and keep it down. Daniel’s proud of him. He loves him. Max isn’t shoving him off. The next pill he gives Max is the last one. “There you are, that’s all, yeah? It should help soon.”

He smooths his thumb over Max’s brow. He swears he can feel the tension there release a little. Max is still letting him touch.

“Thank you,” Max says, so quiet Charles might not even hear it.

I’d do anything for you, Daniel wants to say. Even if I fall in love again, I’d still do anything for you. He keeps that thought to himself. “Can I stay?” he asks instead. “Just till you’re a little better.”

“This is my apartment, you know,” Charles pipes up.

“Stay,” Max says, rushed, before Charles can get anything else out.

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately #2 (m) | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #2 - right here​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: after the events from friday night, you are trying to grapple with the newfound reality you find yourself in with Yoongi, and simultaneously trying to hide it from everyone in the Beta Tau Sigma house. When you seek Hwasa for advice and have an encounter with JB, you leave with a sudden epiphany on how to move forward. warnings: pwp, semi-public sexual activity (in a Professor's office), blowjob, handjob, cum-swallowing, ALMOST getting caught, hungover namjoon, jimin is sus, tbh not many warnings THIS TIME note: lol im sorry i'm always late at posting but here it is. s/o to @daegudrama for editing total word count: 6.8k drop date: september 20th, 1:00pm pst cross posted on AO3 here ← #1 | Series Masterlist | #3 → October 6th (Saturday)

The soft rays of the morning sun creep through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You are still asleep, lost in a peaceful slumber that offers a respite from the whirlwind of emotions that consumed you the night before.

In your dreams, your thoughts and feelings dance in a realm of their own, untouched by the waking world.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen downstairs, a figure moves with purpose, the clinking of pots and pans punctuating the otherwise serene atmosphere. Yoongi stands by the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. His movements are precise, each action a deliberate step towards his goal.

He glances at the clock on the wall, noting the early hour. It is unusual for him to be up and about so early, but he has a reason—an unspoken promise to take care of you after the night you both had. He knows that the morning after could bring with it the unpleasant aftermath of a hangover, and he wants to make sure you are comfortable and well-fed.

The scent of pancakes and sizzling bacon wafts through the house, mingling with the memories of the previous night. As he continues his cooking, a soft smile tugs at the corners of Yoongi's lips. He finds solace in the simple act of making breakfast for you, a way to convey his care and concern without needing to put his emotions into words.

Just as he finishes up, the front door creaks open. Yoongi's ears perk up at the sound, and he turns to see Jimin entering the house. Jimin's hair is slightly disheveled, a telltale sign of a night spent elsewhere. He is wearing a white oversized t-shirt with black basketball shorts. He blinks in surprise when he sees Yoongi in the kitchen, fully engaged in cooking.

"What's all this?" Jimin comments, his voice laced with curiosity. He takes a seat at the dining table, eyeing the spread of food on the counter and then back to Yoongi, with a puzzled look. "Hyung, you're looking a little different this morning,"

Yoongi turns to face Jimin, his usually calm expression replaced with an uncharacteristic cheeriness. His gummy smile is on full display, a sight that Jimin rarely witnesses. It usually comes out when he’s drunk or trying to act silly. But this smile right now is a smile that speaks of contentment, as if a weight has been lifted from Yoongi's shoulders.

"Just felt like making breakfast," Yoongi replies nonchalantly, flipping another pancake onto a plate. "Thought it'd be nice."

Jimin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Yoongi is one of the main chefs of the Beta Tau Sigma house, but he usually wouldn't bother to make anything if the whole gang isn't home. It is almost as if something significant has happened to prompt this change in behavior.

As Jimin settles into his seat, he can't help but prod further. "Seriously. You're acting... different, Hyung. Are you sure you're okay?"

Yoongi chuckles softly, the sound carrying a hint of mischief. "I'm perfectly fine, Jiminie. Just in a good mood, I guess." Yoongi using Jimin’s cute nickname? Oh there is definitely something off.

Jimin eyes him suspiciously, his intuition telling him that there is more to this than Yoongi is letting on. "You're hiding something, are you?"

Yoongi's expression remains unchanged, a master of concealing his thoughts. "Why would I keep something from you, Jimin?"

Jimin's gaze narrows, studying Yoongi's face for any signs of a crack in his facade. He can't shake the feeling that there is something important that Yoongi isn't sharing, something that has prompted this uncharacteristic behavior. Did he get laid the night before? The only memorable time Yoongi has acted uncharacteristically giddy like this is when he lost his virginity during his junior year of high school to Ashley, who is a year younger than him. Well that and the times when he won Varsity basketball tournaments.

"Hyung, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Jimin's tone is gentle, his concern evident.

Yoongi's smile doesn't waver, but his eyes hold a hint of scorn. "I appreciate that, Jiminie. But sometimes, it's better to keep certain things to myself." 

Jimin sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he gazes at Yoongi, who seems unusually tight-lipped about the events of the previous night. A small pang of worry tugs at his heart. He's well aware of Yoongi's penchant for privacy; it's one of the things that he respects about his best friend. In a world where secrets are sometimes shared like K-Pop idol photocards, Yoongi has always been the reliable vault, guarding his innermost thoughts and emotions with a steadfast determination.

While Yoongi might have an open and straightforward demeanor, he understands the gravity of the situation. He can't simply tell his other best friends that he broke their unspoken pact, that he fucked their sole female best friend in the quad. It's not just about secrecy; it's about a complex tangle of emotions, loyalties, and unspoken rules that bind their tight-knit group together. Yoongi knows that revealing this secret could potentially rock the foundation of their friendship and the overall house dynamics, and he's torn between wanting his friend to know the truth and protecting the bonds they've built over the years.

Just as Jimin is about to speak again, Yoongi turns his attention back to the food, effectively closing off any further discussion. Jimin watches him for a moment, a mixture of confusion and further concern swirling in his mind. He can't shake the feeling that something has shifted, something that he isn't fully aware of.

With a sigh, Jimin pushes those thoughts aside and focuses on his plate of food. He knows he’s been hanging out with Irene a little too often and missing out on fun stuff with his friends. He is starting to get tired of his relationship. He would much rather hang out with you, Namjoon and Yoongi or Taehyung and Jungkook…everyone in the house actually. But the sex with Irene isn’t too bad, and it satisfies an urge that has been frustrating him for months, possibly years. Only Taehyung knew of this truth besides him.

You are still asleep upstairs, your dreams blissfully unaware of the conversation outside of the door. Yoongi, with his unspoken secret and newfound cheerfulness, continues to carry the weight of his emotions in silence, determined to protect the fragile balance that exists within your group of friends. 

With a soft yawn, you stretch and sit up in bed, letting out a groan as your head protests the sudden movement. It doesn't take long for the events of the previous night to flood back into your mind—party hopping, laughter, and a moment of unexpected intimacy with Yoongi.

As you mull over the memories, a wave of embarrassment and excitement washes over you. The realization of what transpired between you and Yoongi sends a flutter of nervous anticipation through your chest. You know you'll have to face him soon, but first, you need to shake off the remnants of your hangover.

With a sigh, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, steadying yourself for a moment as your head spins. Gathering your resolve, you make your way to the bathroom, where you spend a few minutes brushing your teeth and splashing cold water on your face.

Feeling slightly more awake, you decide to head downstairs to the kitchen in search of a much-needed cup of water. As you descend the staircase, the aroma of breakfast hits you, and your curiosity piques. Yoongi rarely cooks this early, unless...

You step into the kitchen and are met with a sight that surprises you. The kitchen island is laden with plates of blueberry pancakes, sausages, omelets, and more. It's a feast fit for a king, and your stomach grumbles in response.

"Morning," a familiar voice greets you from the dining table, and you turn to see Jimin there, already tucking into his meal.

"Hey," you reply, rubbing your eyes as if it would clear away the remnants of sleep. Your gaze drifts to the spread of food, and then to Yoongi's back as he continues to work in the kitchen.

"He's been up for a while, making all this," Jimin says with a nod towards Yoongi.

You walk over to the dining table and take a seat across from Jimin. "Yoongi made all of this?"

Jimin chuckles, his mouth full of food. "Yeah, it's a bit unusual, right? Must be in a good mood or something."

You watch Yoongi's movements, the way he works with a focused determination. There's a sense of purpose in his actions, as if he's trying to convey something through his cooking.

"I'm not complaining though," Jimin continues with a grin, taking another bite of his pancakes.

You give a small smile in response, your mind still slightly foggy from the remnants of your hangover. As you take a sip of water, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. Part of you is grateful for Yoongi's thoughtfulness, for taking care of you after a night of drinking. But there's also a sense of unease, a nagging fear of the consequences of what happened between you two.

As you pick at your food, you steal glances at Yoongi, wondering if he's feeling the same way. His demeanor is calm and collected, a mask that conceals the true depths of his thoughts. A mix of uncertainty and curiosity churns within you, but you push those thoughts aside when Jimin decides to break the silence.

"Hey, so how did game night go yesterday?" Jimin asks, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi.

Yoongi's lips curl into a small smile, a subtle hint of satisfaction in his expression. "Went well, we went over to the River Court dorms with the big lounge. I won game night for the first time." This was definitely alluding to something else. Though for Jimin, these dots connected to answer the concern he had earlier. Still feels like some important information is still missing from it, he thinks.

You manage a nod, trying to keep your composure. "Yeah, it was a close game! Really thought Soohyun or Yijeong would win that, but unexpectedly, it was Yoongi!" You laughed, probably not because of what you said, but the ridiculousness of the situation you are currently in.

Jimin arches an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Really? That's interesting."

You decide to change the topic to ask Jimin about his events from the night before. “So, how was your night with Irene?”

Jimin's expression momentarily shifts as you bring up Irene, and he forces a smile. "Oh, you know, the usual. We went to that new Italian restaurant downtown after her fall rush activities. It was... nice." He tries to sound enthusiastic, but there's a subtle undertone of fatigue in his voice.

Yoongi, ever perceptive, raises an eyebrow as he takes in Jimin's response. "Nice, huh? Sounds thrilling." There's a hint of sarcasm in his words.

Jimin shrugs, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah, well, you know how it is, trying to keep things exciting with Irene."

The room falls into a momentary silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery as you all continue to eat. It's evident that Jimin is grappling with something, but he brushes it off. You would want to question if he’s doing okay, but you’re already treading on harsh waters with Yoongi so to add Jimin to the mix would make this worse.

The conversation continues with a few more remarks exchanged, but the air is tinged with an underlying tension that you can't quite shake. Despite Yoongi's attempt to appear nonchalant, you can tell that he's carefully choosing his words.

As the three of you eat in silence, the awkwardness becomes palpable. You find yourself fidgeting, your eyes darting around the room as you try to avoid Yoongi's gaze. The events of the previous night are still fresh in your mind, and the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you two.

Suddenly, you decide that you can't bear the awkwardness any longer. Pushing your plate away, you clear your throat. "Hey, guys, I need to go to the library this morning. Hwasa wanted to study together."

“Studying? On a Saturday morning, beansprout?” Jimin looks at you in disbelief and laughs.

“Beansprout!?” You look at him all confused at the new nickname. “Uh, yes! We got midterms coming up in a few weeks and I’ve been avoiding looking at my class lecture notes like the procrastinator I am.” You sigh.

Yoongi's eyes briefly meet yours as he goes to wash the dishes, seeing a flicker of understanding in his gaze that this is indeed an excuse to go clear your head. You're grateful that he doesn't push the elephant in the room, and that he knows you need time to process what happened. Maybe some studying and talking with Hwasa could help you decide what to do next.

"Then you better go, study and not fail out of college in your 2nd year here," Jimin replies reassuringly, giving you a knowing smile. "We'll catch up more later."

You get up from your seat, taking your dishes to the sink. As you reach out to place your plate down, your hand brushes against Yoongi's briefly, sending a shiver down your spine. It's a simple touch, but it's enough to remind you of the lingering connection between you two.

Without saying a word, you turn and make your way to your room to change. You opt for a comfortable outfit—jeans, a soft oversized sweater, and sneakers. It's a look that makes you feel at ease, even as your thoughts whirl with uncertainty.

Exiting your room with your backpack, you see Jungkook come out from his room next door. When did Jungkook get here? You say good morning to him, but with his airpods in and eyes trained on something on his phone it seems like he can't hear you as he walks into the bathroom.

You tell the two men in the kitchen you’ll be back later and head out. When you open the door, you catch a glimpse of Hoseok helping a clearly hungover Namjoon through the front door. You offer a small wave and a quick hello, not wanting to get caught in any further awkward interactions. Unfortunately, that does not happen.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Namjoon asks, causing you to turn around. You sigh inwardly but put on a friendly smile to respond to Namjoon's inquiry. "Hey, Namjoon, just heading to the library to study with Hwasa."

His eyes narrow ever so slightly as he studies your face, and you can tell he's being overly cautious. "The library, huh? You sure about that?"

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of annoyance bubbling beneath your polite exterior. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Your response sounds a little defensive, feeling a headache coming in from all the eggshell walking this morning.

Namjoon's protective instincts are on high alert, and he glances back at Hoseok for support. "No reason, it's just... you know, it's good to be careful, especially with JB around."

Your annoyance grows, but you keep your tone measured. "Namjoon, I appreciate your concern, but you know I can handle myself. And I'm not hanging out with JB, if that's what you're worried about."

Namjoon seems unconvinced but doesn't press further. "Alright, just be safe, Tiny. Call one of us if you need anything, okay?" 

You give him a reassuring nod before walking away to the library. You can't help but roll your eyes internally at Namjoon's overprotective nature, especially considering his own involvement with Jihyo. Nonetheless, you appreciate his concern, even if it's a bit misguided.

As you walk, you keep replaying the events of the previous night in your mind. The memory of the passionate kiss, the mix of emotions, and the unspoken words—all of it weighs heavily on your thoughts. Part of you knows that you need to have a conversation with Yoongi about what happened, to clarify your feelings and understand his intentions.

You make your way a few blocks to campus and enter the university library. The scent of books and hushed whispers surrounds you, creating an atmosphere of studious concentration. You're in dire need of a revitalizing tea, so you head to the library cafe to order one. While waiting for your tea, you call Hwasa, your trusted confidante, telling her that it's a "CODE RED," an urgent matter that requires her immediate attention. You know she's probably still in bed, but you can't wait to discuss this with her.

“Huh…Code Red?” Hwasa responds in a daze, words slurred. You think it's adorable.

"Ahn Hyejin, I need you to come to the library right now," you say, your voice carrying a mix of stern excitement and nervousness.

"Hmm? Addressing me with the govy name?! What's going on? Is this about some Harry Potter fanfiction again?" Hwasa's voice is groggy, clearly woken up by your urgent call.

"No, it's not about the Draco fic!...And that was ONE TIME! It's about... something else." You bite your lip, glancing around to make sure no one's eavesdropping on your conversation.

Hwasa, sensing that you are definitely serious about this code red call, responds with a more serious tone, "Alright, give me a second. I'll be there as soon as I can."

True to her word, Hwasa arrives shortly, looking a bit disheveled in her gray sweatpants and hoodie, but fully awake. You quickly fill her in on the events of the previous night, recounting everything you're able to remember—even the smallest details, thanks to your surprisingly sharp memory even when you're tipsy.

Hwasa's eyes widen with shock as she listens to your story. "Oh god, finally."

Confused, you raise an eyebrow. "Huh? What do you mean finally?"

Hwasa lets out a chuckle and shakes her head. "Honey, I'm gonna be honest with you. This man is clearly head over heels in love with you. Have you not seen the major heart eyes Min Yoongi has been giving you since I met you last year at the Fall Club Fair?"

Heart eyes? You're taken aback by her words, your mind racing to remember any instances where Yoongi might have displayed such feelings. Then you remember meeting Hwasa at the Fall club fair last year when you started college. Namjoon and Yoongi, both a year older than you, had been showing you and the other maknae line members around. Jimin and Jungkook had gotten caught up watching Hobi's street team dance performance. Namjoon, Jin, and Taehyung had been munching on food at some of the stalls. Meanwhile, Yoongi introduced you to the multicultural club booth, where you met Yijeong, Jieun, and Hwasa, who were giving away Korean goodies. You distinctly recall Yoongi wiping away some crumbs at the corner of your lips, an innocent gesture that Hwasa had clearly interpreted differently. For you, this was typical Yoongi showing his love language for his friends.

Hwasa grins mischievously as she continues, "Ever since then, I've seen the way he looks at you. Spring Fling too! Trust me, girl, those heart eyes don't lie."

You're a mix of emotions—surprised, flustered, and admittedly a little giddy. The idea that Yoongi might have feelings for you is both exhilarating and terrifying. You haven't allowed yourself to entertain such thoughts before, but now they're impossible to ignore.

Before you can say anything else, Hwasa leans in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

Your heart races as you contemplate the question. What are you going to do about it? It's a decision that could change the dynamics of your friendship with Yoongi forever. Not just him, but everyone in the house! As you sit there, lost in thought, you realize that you need more time to process everything that's happened. You look at Hwasa with a determined expression.

You hesitate, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I mean, what would you do if you were in my position?" you finally ask, genuinely seeking her advice.

"Uh, date him?" Hwasa suggests with a casual shrug, as if it's the most obvious solution in the world. “There’s nothing stopping you from this, or is there…?”

You blink at her, your heart rate quickening. "Date Yoongi? But what about Jaebeom? I still am very much attracted to that man!" The idea seems both tempting and terrifying. There are so many reasons why it can't happen, with the main one being your lingering crush on Jaebeom. The other being related to two people you don’t want to think about much. 

Hwasa rolls her eyes, clearly unconvinced by your argument. "Oh, you're still hung up on that? Honey, have you not been listening to me? That guy is only looking to get his dick wet!"

You let out an exasperated sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and denial. "How sure are you about that? What if he actually likes me?"

Hwasa raises an eyebrow at you, her expression telling you that she's not buying your doubts. "I doubt it. Trust me, he doesn't do relationships from all the info I’ve heard. It's all about fun and games for him."

You press your lips together, torn between Hwasa's words of caution and the possibility that there might be more to Yoongi's intentions. It's a risk you're not sure you're ready to take, especially when your heart still flutters at the thought of Jaebeom.

Hwasa leans back, studying your conflicted expression. "Look, Honey, I'm not saying you should jump into anything. Take your time, figure out what you want. But don't dismiss Yoongi either. Sometimes, the best things are right in front of us, and after all that bullshit Joon and Jimin are pulling with the girlies they’re with…that thing you need might be Yoongi."

Her words resonate with you, and you sigh, nodding slowly as you hear her out. "Maybe, you're right. I'll take some time to think about it."

Hwasa smiles and pats your hand reassuringly. "That's all I'm asking for. Just promise me you won't close yourself off to these possibilities. And remember, I've got your back no matter what."

You manage a small smile in return, grateful for Hwasa's unwavering support. As you continue to chat, sharing your thoughts and concerns, you start to feel a bit more at ease. While the path ahead is uncertain, at least you have someone who's willing to listen and provide guidance.

As the conversation continues, you find yourself growing more introspective, contemplating the complexities of your feelings for both Yoongi and Jaebeom. It's a conversation that leaves you with a lot to consider, and as the afternoon sunlight filters through the library windows, you feel a renewed sense of clarity.

Eventually, you part ways with Hwasa, promising to keep her updated on any developments. Leaving the library, you take a deep breath of fresh air, feeling a bit of weight lifted off your shoulders. 

+++++++++++++++++++

October 8th (Monday)

On Monday, you walk into your Finance class, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. As you enter the classroom, your eyes immediately search for JB. He's sitting in his usual spot, looking engrossed in his notebook. Taking a deep breath, you decide to sit next to him, despite the awkwardness you feel.

The lecture proceeds, and you find yourself trying to focus on the material, but your thoughts keep drifting back to the conversation you had with Hwasa. You're determined to be more present in the moment, but it's difficult when JB's mere presence beside you sends your heart racing.

Finally, the class comes to an end. As students start packing up their belongings, you take a deep breath and muster the courage to speak to JB.

 "Hey, JB," you begin, your voice a bit shaky. "I wanted to apologize for leaving you behind that night at the party. I wasn't feeling well, and Yoongi took me away to check-up on me."

JB glances at you briefly before shrugging nonchalantly. "It's whatever," he replies, his tone indifferent.

You're taken aback by his lack of reaction. You had expected some kind of response, maybe even a hint of annoyance, but his words are surprisingly dismissive. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't think I was intentionally blowing you off or anything."

JB raises an eyebrow, as if sizing you up. "Look, it's fine. I'm not really interested in talking to you anymore."

His words catch you off guard, and a strange mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. "Oh, um, okay then."

"Yeah, I figured you're probably busy with other stuff," JB says casually, as if he's already moved on.

“Other stuff? What are you talking about–”

JB doesn’t let you finish your question and instead, stands up, gathering his things. "Anyway, see you around."

You feel a pang of something – disappointment, perhaps – but it's not as sharp as you thought it would be. Maybe it's the newfound clarity you gained from talking to Hwasa, or maybe it's the fact that you've realized there was nothing truly tangible that could happen with JB. Though you are still confused by what he meant by that last remark, you decide to ignore it.

As JB walks away, you find yourself feeling strangely liberated.

After that interaction with him, you can't help but feel a newfound sense of empowerment and clarity. The conversation with Hwasa and the way JB's dismissal rolled off your shoulders made you realize that it's time to take control of your own feelings and decisions. With this determination in mind, you decide to follow Hwasa's advice and text Yoongi after your class.

You: Where are you right now?

 You type quickly, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a response. 

Yoongi: At Professor Kang's office, grading papers. He had to step out for a department meeting just now.

You: Stay where you are. I’m coming over there.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your things and head towards the Social Sciences building where Professor Kang's office is located. 

+++++++++++

You knock on the door, your heart beating faster as you wait for a response. The door opens, revealing Yoongi on the other side.

"Hey," you say softly, meeting his gaze.

"Hey," he replies, and you can sense a mixture of anticipation and something else in his eyes.

"Can we talk?" you ask, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Yoongi steps aside, gesturing for you to enter the office. You step inside, and he closes the door behind you, the latch clicking softly, cocooning the two of you in this small space. Papers and books sprawl across the cluttered desk, lending the room a cozy, but somewhat chaotic, atmosphere. The soft, golden sunlight filtering through the outside trees adds a touch of tranquility to the space, as though it's caught in a moment of serene contemplation. 

You take a deep breath, facing Yoongi. "I've been thinking a lot about what happened on Friday," you begin, choosing your words carefully. "And I realize that I need to clarify my own feelings and thoughts."

Yoongi nods, his expression serious. "I've been waiting for you to bring this up," he admits. "I didn't want to push you into a conversation you weren't ready for."

You appreciate his understanding, and it gives you the courage to continue. "Thank you, Yoongs,” you say with a warm smile, your voice soft as you gather your thoughts. "I want to start by saying that I really enjoyed spending time with you on Friday," your cheeks flushing slightly with a delicate pink hue.

His eyes, like warm pools of caramel, meet yours, and he smiles. "I did too, probably the most fun I’ve had since the beginning of this semester." His voice is low and soothing, like a comforting melody in the background.

Your fingers trace patterns on the hem of your top, a nervous habit of yours activating as you are about to potentially initiate something you cannot change. "And after a lot of thinking," you begin slowly, "I wanted to ask you if we could start something…"

His curiosity piqued, Yoongi leans back against Professor Kang’s desk. "Spit it out, Sunshine," he encourages, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Like friends with benefits!" you finally let it out, the words hanging in the air, their weight palpable in the room. You can feel the soft breeze from the open window, a gentle reminder of the world outside, but for this moment, it's just the two of you, suspended in time.

Yoongi exhales, and moves to sit at the TA desk by the window.

 "Not what I thought you would say, but that doesn't sound like a bad idea given our circumstances."

You nod in agreement, feeling relieved that Yoongi is open to the idea. "I just think it could be fun and beneficial for both of us before we think about stepping into something more complex, y'know!" you say, trying to downplay the nerves that are still bubbling up inside of you.

Yoongi studies you for a moment, his eyes flickering with something you can't quite decipher.  “What about your crush on Jaebeom? Not trying to get with him anymore?” He asks.

“Well, he hates my guts since I left standing there on Friday when you dragged me away…so that’s done.”

He laughs lowly, “Well, I'm definitely interested if he’s not," he says and pauses briefly before saying the next thing on his mind. "But we should establish some ground rules first."

You nod again, eager to hear what he has to say. "Of course, whatever you think is necessary. I haven't done something like this since high school and you know how that went." 

You laughed nervously, recalling your unestablished situationship with Yeonjun that very much did not end well. You came crying to Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi that night when everything crashed down and they took you out for rolled ice cream.

Yoongi leans forward, his gaze intense. "First, we have to be completely honest with each other. If either of us starts to want something more from each other, we need to speak up immediately and decide what to do."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words. "I agree, communication is key! What else do you think we should establish?"

"Second, we have to be safe," Yoongi continues, his voice serious. "We'll use protection when penetrating always, no exceptions. And we'll both get tested before we start anything."

You nod again, feeling grateful for Yoongi's responsible approach to this situation. "That makes sense, and I completely agree. Is there anything else?"

Yoongi leans back in his chair, his gaze flickering over your body. "Lastly," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We have to be completely open with each other about our desires and boundaries. And we have to be willing to explore and experiment with each other."

You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words, your body responding to the promise of intimacy with Yoongi. "I am willing to do that," you reply, your voice husky with desire.

In that moment, your impulsive thoughts start advising you to do something you thought you would never do, and you listen. You walk towards Yoongi's desk and get on your knees in front of him, feeling emboldened by the conversation and agreement made. You realize what you're about to do is incredibly risky, but if you don't solidify this agreement now, when could you really? 

You reach for his thighs, your eyes never leaving his. Yoongi's gaze is intense as he looks down at you, your fingers gripping his thighs tightly.

"You’re really about to do this…right here?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure about that?"

You nod, feeling a wave of desire wash over you. "I've never been more sure of anything," you reply, your fingers moving to the button of his jeans.

Yoongi lets out a low growl as you begin to unzip his pants, his eyes dark with desire. You take him in your hand, feeling him harden under your touch.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath as you begin to stroke him slowly. "You really drive me crazy.  You know that, Sunshine?"

You smirk up at him for using your everyday nickname in this context, feeling a sense of power as you pleasure him with your hands. He's never been more vulnerable than he is right now, sitting in his Professor's semi public office trying to control his heavy breathing with your hand wrapped around his cock slowly stroking.

"Well this is my favorite way to drive someone crazy," you say as you lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, his taste and smell is more intoxicating than expected. His hands immediately fall to your curls, gripping them tightly as you take him deeper into your mouth.

You begin to move your head up and down, your hand still stroking him in rhythm with the movement of your mouth. You feel him harden further, his cock twitching in your hands and his moans filling the air.

You pull your head back, your lips wet from his glistening precum. "But I can think of a couple of other ways as well."

Yoongi's eyes are dark with lust, his breathing ragged. You move your hands to the waistband of his jeans and underwear, pulling them down his hips and freeing him from any constraint. He kicks off his shoes and lifts his feet so you can pull his pants all the way off, your eyes never leaving his.

You take him in your mouth again and begin to suck him in earnest, feeling your own desire growing between your legs. You're not sure how much longer you can last before you need him inside of you. You can't do that here though, no matter how much your inner whore wants you to risk it all. Your tongue continues to dance around him, exploring every inch of his cock with new enthusiasm. Yoongi's fingers dig into your scalp again as he struggles to control his low moans, his legs shaking every time you flick your tongue against the head of his cock.

This is definitely the most interesting place you’ve ever given a blowjob.

Yoongi's hand leaves your scalp and moves down to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as he moves himself deeper into your mouth. His cock throbs in your mouth as the first wave of his orgasm overtakes him, strings of his glistening cum shooting into your throat and coating your tongue. The flavor of Yoongi’s cum on your tongue is salty and tangy, like a citrus cocktail with a kick. The taste and sensation of it is addicting. Being in the public place you are in, you decide to swallow his load down your throat and you continue to suck him until he is finished. Leaving no evidence of the events taking place.

Yoongi pulls you off of him gently, his lips curled up in a smirk. "I think you really need to stop now, or else I'm going to lose control," he says, his voice hoarse.

"Don’t worry! That's it from me," you reply, your words muffled slightly by the fact that Yoongi's cock is still partially in your mouth. "I just wanted to give you a taste of what's to come with this agreement."

You stand up and help him straighten his shirt, then you help him put his pants back on and button them up. He stands as well, his hands still shaking as he tucks himself back into his boxers.

Yoongi begins chuckling suddenly, "Yeah, we definitely can’t tell anyone about this too," he regards, his voice strained. He looks just as desperate as you feel.

You nod, still feeling lost in lust. “Absolutely not.”

"We're still friends at the end of the day and I don't want this to ruin that.” Yoongi nods, his expression serious. “We can't let this affect our group dynamic or make things awkward when we're all together."

You nod again, taking in his words. "Of course, taking this secret to the grave with you, bestie Yoongs.”

You grab some of the hand sanitizer on Professor Kang's desk and apply it to your hands covered in spit residue. You are going to wash your hands once you step out of this room and reflect on this insane action you just did here, you think to yourself. 

In the moment you're about to ask Yoongi about something related to your arrangement, you hear a knock at the door, startling you. Yoongi looks over at you with panic, his eyes wide. He signals you to sit in a nearby chair and walks toward the door. He opens it to find Hoseok holding a stapled paper stack.

"Hey Hyung!" Hoseok says with his characteristic low yet excited voice. "Just wanted to come by to drop off one of my assignments for Professor Kang. I wanted to come earlier, but I got sidetracked by the dance team..." Hoseok's words drift away as he look behind Yoongi and sees you sitting down.

"Oh, Honey?" Hoseok calls out using your household nickname. “You're here too?" 

"Yeah…Just came by to drop off an iced americano for Yoongi to motivate him to finish his TA duties." You brush off the obvious lust on your face and try to look like you're not involved in anything. You sit there upright, hoping Hoseok would go with the flow. But he continues to be lost in thought. “I gotta go meet up with Jungkook, so I’ll excuse myself!” 

You get up from your seat and scurry out of the office without Yoongi getting the chance to say ‘see you at home!’

After a bit of silence, Hoseok's attention whips to Yoongi, a stern expression on his face. "So what's going on here, Yoongi?"

“Nothing related to whatever you’re thinking.”

Hoseok's eyebrows raise, his expression becoming more serious. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like something's been going on. You've been acting different, and her being in Kang’s office all alone with you and then she runs off?” He laughs, “Hyung! I've known you for years. You can't hide much from me."

Yoongi lets out a deep sigh, realizing that Hoseok won't be easily brushed off. He leans against his desk, arms crossed. “Hope, It's not like that.."

Hoseok nods knowingly. "Complicated, huh? Does it have anything to do with why you've been looking so love-struck lately?"

Yoongi's cheeks flush with embarrassment, however the setting sun radiating shades of red and orange into the office manage to camouflage the blush. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Hoseok chuckles, clearly enjoying teasing his friend. "Come on, Yoongi. You’ve been acting a little too excited since your Saturday morning breakfast feast? That was definitely meant for us."

Yoongi rubs his temples, a sign that he's growing frustrated. "Hoseok, can we not do this right now?”

Hoseok sighs, his playful demeanor softening into genuine concern. "Alright, Hyung! I won't push you further. Just remember, I'm here for you if you ever want to talk about it. And, you know, I can keep a secret."

Yoongi manages a small, appreciative smile. "Sure, Hope. I appreciate that."

Hoseok claps him on the back and back out the door way. "No problem, hyung. Just take your time, but don't take too long. Life's too short to be indecisive. He might decide to actually take her if you don’t."

Confusion clouds Yoongi's expression. "What? Who are you talking about?"

Hoseok grins mischievously as he opens the office door. "Oh, you'll figure it out, Hyung. Just remember what I said." With that, he exits the room, leaving Yoongi to ponder his cryptic words.

As the door closes behind Hoseok, Yoongi can't help but replay the events of the past few days in his mind. Hoseok's words about his own behavior and the warning about someone elses’ interest in you adds another layer of complexity to an already tangled situation.

 Is it about Namjoon? He thinks back to Saturday morning when Hoseok brought back Namjoon from wherever he was last Friday night. Namjoon ate some of the breakfast he made and didn’t come out of his room the whole weekend. Jimin doesn’t seem to be much of a concern right now despite him being suspicious of him too. Yoongi doubts anyone in the house would be trying to make a move on you. Well, there is Jungkook who is clingy to you on a normal basis but that doesn’t seem likely.  While Yoongi has been wanting this for a long time, was this agreement a bad idea after all? With a sigh, Yoongi returns to his desk, knowing that he has a lot to think about.

[yepperoniro]

Alpha Hashiras x Omega Reader x Kamado Gang Part 2

Okay, okay, okay, first request in years! I've been working on this since you asked for it. I hope it's what you were looking for. [I highly doubt it is doe... especially since i went completely off topic at the end.]

[I aged up the Ubuyashiki Quadruplets]

It all started five months ago when you were unknowingly stalked by a demon. The slayers took it out, but the Kakushi made note of your secondary gender. And you got Kayaga Ubuyashiki's attention.

Kayaga started observing you to determine if you would be a good incubator. Which was his intentions with you. He decided to send the Kakushi to bring you to the manner so that he could talk you into willingly choosing one of the Hashira to mate with.

After you get brought into the manner, Kayaga couldn't help but notice how strange some of the Kakashi and even his son were reacting to your unconscious form. So, to protect you, he declared that branch of the manner off limits.

Two hours before he expected the anesthetic to wear off, he planned a Hashira meeting.

This is when the problems began.

"There was a surplus of demons in the Kanto region...." He stops himself as he senses that he doesn't have anyone's attention. "What is going on?" He asked his two children that stood next to him.

"She's awake and approaching." Kiriya states as he takes in a deep breath.

"That's no good. I was hoping to talk to her privately before introducing her to you all. But it seems as if that won't happen. Kanata, Kuina, Hinaki, and Nichika, go gather Lady ____ and bring her here."

"Father, can I also go and get her?" Kiriya asked, and his father shook his head lightly. His daughter ran off.

_-_-_

"Who are you?" You hissed at the terrifying sight before you.

"We are of little importance. Master wishes to meet with you." One of the four matching white-haired androgynous figures said as they approached you.

"No! Fuck that." You shout as you began to run away from the four of them. The Kakushi joined the chase, and you made a fatal flaw.

You threw open the door, and to your chagrin, there stood 9 Alphas and two Betas.

You stare in horror as everyone's attention fell onto you. You shook your head in horror and begin to back up before you bolted down the hallway.

That was actually your biggest mistake. It was as if your parents never taught you to never turn your back on your opponent. And eight of the alphas almost instantly gave chase. With very little care about respect.

"Father! You need to do something!" Kiriya yelled as he pulled on his father's kimono.

"This isn't how I wanted this to go..." He says as he adjusts his position, so he is facing his son. "There isn't anything we can do. This is her fate."

"But father, I want her."

"She was never going to be yours, Kiriya."

-_-_-_-

"Stop that woman!" One of the Kakushi yelled at the butterfly girls as you approached the butterfly estate.

"Stop, Intruder!" Kiyu shouted. As she Sumi and Naho began to charge you. You sneakily entered a room and barricaded the door.

Then you let out a sigh of relief that the whole thing was over. "Ma'am?" You heard, and you stare in horror as you turn around and see three men in sea foam green pajamas laying on three of the beds.

"Open this door!" Tengen yelled.

"Fuck that!" You shouted back.

"I'll help you." Tanjiro whispered to you as the alphas were yelling and begging you to let them in.

"Inosuke! Give me your uniform!" Tanjiro whisper yelled.

"Why do you want it, Gonpachiro?" He asked queitly.

"Just give it to him." Zenitsu says. "Get changed, and I'll help you out the window."

You stare at the grossest, stinkiest demon slayer uniform you let out a sigh and begin to undress. As you were dressing, the window opened from the outside. "Ara! Ara! Did you think you could hide from me in my own house?" Shinobu says with a sick smile as she enters the room.

"Did you hear that?! Shinobu got in! We have to break the door down and get in as well."

"I'm in here as well!" Kyojuro says as he jumps in through the window. "Best Buddy, if you are also coming in here, be warned she as pushed a lot of things in front of the door!"

"I figured this much, thanks, Rengoku." Tengen yelled from the other side.

"You know a proper lady only shows her nude body to her husband!" Kyojuro says as he takes off his cape/haori thing and threw it at you. "Cover up!" He says as he tries to take his eyes off of you. Once the clothes that held his scent so strongly was in your grasp did you notice an important thing that you somehow missed until now. The burning ache in-between your legs.

You slink yourself to the ground as you watch the Flame Hashira and the Insect Hashira begin arguing. The two's argument almost fight was interrupted by an explosion as the door and your makeshift barricade were blown away.

The betas made their way around the group of fighting alphas to your side.

Your brain couldn't comprehend what exactly was going on as your pheromones clouded your judgment.

Next, you knew two arms wrapped around your waist, and you were picked up.

Your Instincts told you to fight back to be by the alphas's sides, but your brain knew better. Whoever was carrying you was a beta, and they were looking after you. Even if your omegahood ached for something they didn't possess.

-_-_-_-

"Ms. Can you put this on, please?" A soft spoken voice asked you, and you nodded and put on the pink and purple gown.

"I know you probably don't understand why we are being so cruel to you right now, but I'm happy you are cooperating." Tanjiro says as he approaches you.

"I understand. Thank you." You says as you snuggled into the Alpha scented fabric you still had.

"It's only a matter of time before the hashiras are able to find us! Then what? Look, I didn't mind helping her escape but protecting her from being mated... that's a totally different thing!" Zenitsu says.

"We stall. Soon, her heat will subside, and we can have a proper conversation with her." Tanjiro says.

"How many demon friends do you have Kamado?" Genya says as he looks over you.

"Only three, I swear!" He says.

"This is a pretty sweet power. Invisibility..." Inosuke says.

"We aren't invisible. It's just hard to track us." Tanjiro says.

Genya makes his way over to you. "Ohayo, y/n. This belongs to my brother his scent is still on it. I think you could use it more than me." He says as he pulls out an old wife beater. You grabbed it from him and snuggled it into in-between your legs. "I think you'd be a perfect little wife for my brother. It's just a matter of getting the two of you together. And I think I know just the plan." He whispered into your ear.

"Guys I'm going out to get more food. We are running out."

"No, we aren't..." Zenitsu says and he stared the yellow haired boy down. The staring contest is broken off by Inosuke who burped as loud as possible.

"Yes, we are." He says

"You could say excuse me you know!"

"Why the hell would I say that?!"

With that Genya left.

-_-_- Back with the Hashiras. -_-_-_-

"That stupid trader! I knew he was no good when he showed up with that Demon!" Sanemi hissed.

"I agree. What should we do?" Obanai asked.

"We should follow Uzui. He and Rengoku left a few seconds ago." Mitsuri says.

💎💎💎

"Hello, Demon Girl." Tengen says as he opens the door of the young girls room. Nezuko is still asleep.

"Demon Girl, wake up and get in the box." He says.

But the girl doesn't wake up.

"I'm going to kill you and your brother if you don't wake up and get in the box!" Tengen yelled. And the demon girls eyes snapped open. "In the box!" He says as he points to the box she looked at him, and the fire owl beside him and knodded as she shrank herself and got in the box.

"Good job!" Rengoku says. "This way best buddy!" He says as he leads his friend and him off in the direction the group went off in.

🍃🍃🍃

"Sanemi!" Genya says as he approaches his brother whilst he was alone.

"What Are You Doing Here?! Why Do You Smell Like Her?!" He yelled back.

"Follow me, Kamado thinks he can prevent her from being mated."

_-_-_-

"Hello, Shinazugawa!" Rengoku says as the five of them come across each other.

"Look, this Omega is mine. So why don't you go home to your three Omegas waiting for you. Maybe share one with your 'Best Buddy' if your that desperate to get him laid." Sanemi says.

"Absolutely not!" Kyojuro says as he stares the Wind Hashira down. "Let me say this you are an impressive man, Shinazugawa Sanemi! However, you are not worthy of an Omega such as her!"

"Kamado! Come out, come out wherever you are! You have someone I want I have someone you want!" Tengen yelled. As he shakes the demon box around.

"Come with me." Genya whispered in his brothers ear, and he led him to an opening.

"There is nothing here! Your wasting my time!" Sanemi hissed.

"No I'm not See!" He says as he puts his hand into the barrier and it rippled around his hand it disappearing once it enters the border.

"What the hell?" Sanemi says as he walks into the opening and he can see them. Zenitsu and Inosuke pointed their blades at him and Tanjiro and Kanao staring at him and Genya. But most importantly, you were there currled around his tank top. "Give her to me!"

"So you can force yourself on her screw that!" Zenitsu says. "I knew when he left, he was going to bring his meathead brother back with him!"

"Shut up!" He yelled back at the boy.

"This is why Kanae rejected your offers to be your mate! You are a ..." Kanao added after fliping her coin. The sound of him unsheathing his blade silenced the group.

"Give her to me or die."

"Tanjirooooo! We have bigger fish to fry out there, Tanjiro! That stupid three wives crazy man has Nezuko! I can hear him approaching!" Zenitsu says.

"Nezuko!" Tanjiro yelled as he ran off following his noes.

"Forehead, Yellow, Borekid! Where is the Omega?" Kyojuro says as he disrupts the mirage from the opposite side.

"You're too late, Rengoku! She mine!" Sanemi yelled as he quickly grabbed you and began running.

"Get back here, you scoundrel!" He yelled. "Best Buddy! Shinazugawa is taking off with her!" He yells as he starts to chase the wind Hashira.

"Oi! Brat! give her back to us! You know she doesn't belong to you."

"In two seconds, she will!" He hissed as he tried to adjust your position just to be tackled by the sound hashira, causing you to go tumbling into a tree.

"Heavens! Are you okay?!" A new voice says as you feel your body get lifted up by two strong arms. "You lot are immature! Delving this low all because an omega is near. You all should be ashamed of yourselves. I will be taking care of her for the extended period. Until the lot of you start to behave."

"Hinejima-san! Give her to me she might be concussed because she was thrown into the tree!" Shinobu says.

"No can do! You are no better than them. Chasing her down like this."

"Oh, and you are better than us? You chased her just the same!" Sanemi hissed.

"I followed after you lot to protect her." He argued.

"The way you swung at Giyuu after he said he wanted to put a couple of pups in her says otherwise."

"He deserved it. Speaking like that is distasteful."

"Yare Yare... just give her to me, I'm the one with a medical degree!" Shinobu says.

"Actually, the Kakushi and I will be taking her to be looked after until further notice none of you acted without the sqauve and grace that is expected of a Hashira!" Kiriya Ubuyashiki yelled, getting the groups attention.

"Like hell. You think because you Might become the master, you get to order us around? Fuck that!" Sanemi hissed as he looks over at you in Gyomei's hands.

"Shinazugawa! Enough!" Gyomei says as he lets out an exasperated sigh and hands you to one of the kakushi. "Show him some respect."

"I have no respect for the likes of him." He hissed as lunges toward you. Tengen quickly, with one jab, knocks the wind Hashira unconscious.

"I think we should compete for her affections. Flashily, of course. To win her hand."

"That's a perfect plan. Best Buddy!"

"Like what?" Kiriya questioned as he went to reach out for you, but Kyojuro, Giyuu, and Mitsuri intercepted him.

"Like a muti event festival!" He says. "A race will definitely be one of them. Another could be Discus. And another could be wrestling."

"Abuch of unimportant competitions that you are good at no thank you." Giyuu says.

"I agree perhaps racing is a good one, another could be arm wrestling, and what about best provider? That way, it can actually be valid as a mating games festival." Obanai suggests as he looks between Mitsuri and you.

"What does provider mean? In this case? Who's got the most money? Because that would be Kiriya. No question." Mitsuri asked.

"What about a cook-off? There was one at the world fair the year I went. We all bring a meal cooked by us and she'll choose her favorite." Kiriya says.

"What a flashy idea!"

[The day of the Tournament]

"Ohayo, Tokito, what are you doing here?" Tanjiro asked as he approached the boy.

"I could ask you that same."

"I'm here as moral support for Lady Y/N. We all are." He says as he waves his pointer finger around his crew. "I'm sad that it has to come to this. A competition. As if she is just an object to win and not a person."

"She is. She's an Omega. An Absoulte Omega. That's rarest of all of the secondary genders. She's like a status symbol." He says.

"Are you here to complete for her then? I thought you were a beta like me."

"I am. Master Kiriya Ubuyashiki asked me to compete for him in the physical aspects of the trail. I don't see the point, but I'm not going to reject a direct order."

"Who are you rooting for?" Zenitsu asks the group.

"Should I say?" Kanao says as she flips her coin. "No..."

"Bug eyed is the best mate for Sujiko. You've seen how bad ass he is back with that beastly creature. Or I guess the God of Festivals would also be a good mate." Inosuke says.

"Her name is Y/N, and I think she would be a cute mate for Mr. Rengoku. Or perhaps Mr. Hinejima." Zenitsu says.

"None of them. I think she'd be better with someone who wouldn't objectify her." Tanjiro says.

"I understand where you're coming from, but I don't know if you truly understand. As an absolute omega, this is her fate. Actually, it might be better than any other she could have. I read somewhere that Absolute Omegas sometimes are sold as sex slaves to presidents and kings. They are rarely taken as wives and not just concubines." Zenitsu says.

"I don't know who I'm rooting for, but I know who I'm not rooting for." Kanao says.

"Agreed." Zenitsu says.

"Kiriya Ubuyashiki." The whole group says.

Sorry, that's all I got.... it was only a bunch of thoughts...

If you're looking for more ABO KYN, I have an O!Giyuu x A!Reader x Yan!O!Kyojuro. I've written four or five chapters on and have been debating posting it here or on AO3.

[gardenerian]

new to this amazing fandom and imposter syndrome is raging thru me. any advice on how to take the plunge and create? or do you think all the well known creators here are already established?

what makes a fic great and a 'classic? regular updates? being active on socials? i posted once and was basically ignored so im scared now and in my head.

sorry for all the questions

× imposter anon

hey there 💓 welcome to the fandom! this is a brilliant, silly, LOVING place, and i am so glad you're here! i'm sorry you're feeling a bit unsure, ty for coming to chat with me 🫂✨

first, i'll say that NO, i don't think there's a cap on creators here. what i love about this fandom is that it's constantly growing and evolving - almost like it's breathing? there are new people who have just binged the show, fans who are reconnecting, and goobers like me who will never let go 😇 no matter what, we are here to gobble up words and art and thoughts and FRIENDSHIP!

honestly, i think the trick for me was connecting. i joined shameless tumblr in 2019 and screamed into the absolute VOID before i started interacting with others. once i started reaching out and talking with others, it was easier for me to share my writing or find the encouragement to start making gifs. there is a BIG focus on community here, and i find that people are so eager and generous with their energy. we WANT to cheer you on and champion your work! we WANT to beta and read and give advice/tips/love.

so i would say not to be shy (easier said than done, i know!), and to share your beautiful self! a lot of users have tracked tags, which is a good way to share and connect. i track #gardenermel (sometimes i am bad at looking, but i'll always get there!), and i'd love to see what you've been up to. and there are many others who love to see creations this way! if you feel comfortable, you can reach out via asks and strike up conversations! all of my friendships here started this way.

there are plenty of ways to get started! fandom events are especially useful for trying things out. depending on what you'd like to create, you could check out @galladrabbles @gallacrafts @gallavichmeta @shamelesscreatorsnetwork @gallavichprompts... there's a yearly @spicygallavichcollab and all kinds of events hosted by @gallavichthings. honestly, the list goes on! these are excellent resources for sharing creations, and a great way to meet members of the fandom.

there's also a host of discord groups associated with some of these initiatives! check out the blogs for links. plus, the big ol' gallabitches server (18+). you'll find a lot of us there, and it's a lovely space to chat about your creations (and everything else!).

as for fic classics, i think that depends on who you ask! there are certainly some fandom staples, but what's great about this space is the WIDE range of interests and ideas. people have put these guys in every single situation, and we continue to be fucking psyched about it. as long as ian, mickey, and the whole damn gang feel true to themselves, i am (generally) fucking here for it. i don't post regularly AT ALL, but i still find that people are so lovely when i do. there's no race to be won here, fandom is about ENJOYING yourself. so i say: please keep trying! drop me a link! i don't catch everything and i WANT to see what yall are doing!

i hope this helps, even in some small way. i know coming into a new fandom can seem daunting, but we're all here for the love of it, and it's so fantastic to keep sharing it! 🍅

anyone else have thoughts? i love you!

[ofinkandpaper]

A Changed World

Yandere!Villian!MHA x Reader

Hello! Finally, after nearly an entire year, I have finally finished chapter two with the gracious help and beta reading of @cupidcreates ❤️ So many things have been going on in my personal life and I really appreciate y'all's patience with this. Also, to clarify why I tag certain characters though they don't appear in a this chapter: they are referenced and are an important character to the story as a whole, so it makes it easier for me to keep track of what tags I should put on each chapter when they're all the same.

Note: The characters are aged up. As the story progresses, I will tag each chapter with respective trigger and content warnings, which may include mentions of murder, assault, cannibalism, stalking, torture, arson, terrorism, and other felonies, Yandere themes, Sexual assault, Mental illness, abuse. I do not own MHA nor do these personalities represent the writers, characters or VAs of the show. This is strictly fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

**Trigger Warnings: Implied Stalking/Being Watched

Word Count: 3,566

Taglist: @lolawassad @letskidaddle @youngbeansprout @bakuhoes-dumbass @cupidcreates

"Okay, so here's what I'm thinking." You glanced up from your computer for a moment, pausing in writing the few reports Tamaki had asked you for to give Kendo the small amount of attention you knew would be needed for her to continue talking.

Her casual drone, when comfortable, made for nice background noise and gave you a sense of peace.

"You could always move in with me! Sure, you may have to deal with Monoma every once in a while, but he's mellowed out a bit since we graduated so he isn't as much of a nuisance as he used to be." The thought made you scoff, but gave you a tiny bit of hope for the blonde man. Even with as much hate as he spewed at your fellow classmates, you had a small soft spot for him. As far as you could recall, you were one of the few that he had actually confided in when it came to his quirk insecurity - whether a copying quirk was a good fit for hero work or not, and not having much support about it in his childhood. Sometimes it made you wonder, a little dejectedly, if he had been making a jab at your own quirk. Sure it wasn't anything fancy like Hawks' was, but you liked it well enough.

"You of all people know I don't actually mind being around him, Itsuka." You huffed a laugh and went back to typing, "Besides, I can tell you right now I'm not a good roommate. Partially due to my quirk and partially due to how much I enjoy being alone sometimes."

"Oh please, if I could handle you in the UA dorms, I can handle you in a regular living situation." You could almost feel the force of her eye roll as you hear her flop back onto your bed. You glance at the clock to check the time before continuing to type, making a silent promise to finish this one report and send what you have done while promising Tamaki you would finish the rest tomorrow.

You wanted at least a few hours with your friend while she was here, you know?

"Honestly, I think you only managed that because of Monoma and Tetsutetsu." You smirk and glance her way again. Again, she scoffed and waved a hand dismissively as she turned her attention to her phone. Once more, back to the paperwork grind, you pushed through the last few sentences before sending them off to their respective destinations.

"Oh. There was one other thing I wanted to ask about." You swivel to face Kendo, frowning as she sat up and gave you the most serious look you've seen on her the entire day.

"What's up?"

"Are you really okay living here? With all the gang activity?"

The sudden weight of her questions caused a slight tension to rise over your body and your expression to fall a touch. You turned away from her as you thought of an answer, staring blankly at your keyboard. You could hear her shifting - uncomfortably, you assumed - as she tried to wait patiently for your response.

It was hard to think of an answer that didn't sound like there was some lie to it. Sure, you were used to the gangs, and appreciated that they didn't make your life as much of hell as they probably could… but that didn't mean you were entirely comfortable with them getting away with strong arming innocent civilians just because they knew the local heroes weren't supported enough to be able to stand up confidently and fully against them.

In all honesty, you had half a mind sometimes to leave Tamaki's agency and join the local one to add some backbone to the force.

"It's alright… it's not exactly what I would really want, but it's what I can afford at the moment.” You pause and give a shrug, “And the gangs haven’t been too bad recently. Just wish the hero agency in this area had a bit more support so they could actually do something about it all.”

Kendo was quiet as she took in your words, and with your attention away from her, her expression neutralized. It would have been easy for you to see the thoughts that swirled behind her eyes; thinking of how she could help and who she could talk to about either easing the situation in your neighborhood or getting you to move elsewhere. Having known you since your schooling days, she knew you were a stubborn one - she could almost put you on par with Midorya and Bakugo, if she were being completely honest.

Maybe a talk with Nejire was in order.

She forced a smile on her lips as she stood and went over, humming as she placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up at her, finding a soft smile coming easy to you in response to her own.

“Well, while you figure out what you want to really do - don’t lie to me, I can tell you’re thinking about it - remember you have a plethora of people who have your back if you ever wanna move out.”

You sigh and nod, softly mentioning Tamaki’s offer to help you move closer to his agency. There was a sudden, but subtle, stiffness in her hand, though before you could really question it, she relaxed and moved away towards the bedroom door.

“Why haven’t you taken him up on it yet? Oh, and did you want any tea?” She pauses at the door, waiting for your answer. You hum and nod, standing to follow her to the kitchen. This small moment made you glad she still felt comfortable enough with you to know she could make use of your home-space as if it were her own.

“I don’t know… if I’m being honest, I just really don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of his kindness. Like, getting me an entire house? That’s a lot - way too much! I could never just casually go ‘oh sure, thanks boss!’ to something like that.” You hoisted yourself up onto the counter, swinging your legs a little as you watch Kendo shuffling around getting the kettle and mugs set up. She raised a brow and glanced your way for a moment as she turned the oven on to start boiling the water.

“A house? I thought his offer was for an apartment.” You make an elongated noise, accompanied by the shrug of your shoulders and one of your hands swaying side to side in a ‘maybe’ gesture.

“House, apartment… he’s offered a few different options, including moving in with him,” Again you shrug, “But, again, it's nothing that I can easily accept from him. Not only do I not wanna  seem like a burden that needs to be protected, but I also don’t want to step on his toes and feel like I’m taking advantage of his kindness.”

She seemed to fall quiet in her thoughts as she watched the kettle, waiting for the whistle to signal that the water was ready. You let yourself relax a little further and rest your head against the edge of the cabinets while surveying the rest of the kitchen casually. Would it really be so bad if you decided to take one of them up on their offer to move in? Well, Tamaki did offer first - but Kendo was, as you felt, a closer friend. Glancing up at the ceiling, you contemplated if there had been anyone else that you could recall offering you a place to stay that wasn’t infested with more gang activity than a single hero could handle; you pull a blank as the kettle begins to whistle. Kendo picks it up and softly asks you to hold the tea bag strings in place as she pours. You were glad to do it; it gave your mind something else to focus on, and your hands something to do.

“I don’t think he would ever consider it as being taken advantage of. He is the one that offered in the first place.” She smiled and set the kettle on a cool stove burner before picking up and handing you one of the mugs. You gave her a soft thanks, accompanied by a roll of your eyes.

“That is true, but he is still my boss. If it isn’t the thought of taking advantage of his kindness, then I could only imagine what the more immature members of the agency would think if they caught wind.” That got a responsive giggle as the red haired girl shook her head almost wildly; you were pretty sure that if she hadn’t had that cup of tea in her hands, pressed against her chest, she would be waving her hands all over the place.

“I don’t even want to think about that! I’ve seen some of the members of your agency - I’m honestly surprised Suneater hasn’t said anything to them about their behaviour yet.” For some reason, her calling Tamaki by his hero name gave you pause to ponder slightly - had you been the only one to call him by his name this entire time? And why did it feel weird to hear him being referred to as anything beyond his name? You shake the thoughts before you could dive too far down that specific rabbit hole.

“I’m not sure, but I do recall him talking to a few at one point. Must’ve been really bad considering how they ended up acting like absolutely perfect angels after their private conversation with him.” You sipped your tea and let your mind wander again for a moment. What had those few done that caused Tamaki to actually reprimand them like he had, and not any of the other kinds of offenders? Kendo shrugged and took a sip of her own tea. However, before she could speak, her phone began to ring from the bedroom. Excusing herself, she set down her mug and darted off to answer it - you hoped you hadn’t kept her for too long. She hadn’t even mentioned if she was on call for hero work today or not before coming over to hang out.

You continued to nurse your tea, carefully leaping down from the counter so as not to knock her mug over in the process or spill any of yours.  You meander  into the living room and ponder if you wanted to either watch TV or grab a book to read. Or, as the thought came, you could go grab your own phone and either mindlessly scroll through social media or read fanfiction of your favorite shows and movies. You had a bit of a guilty pleasure when it came to reader inserts - though you weren’t sure why you called it guilty when it was a perfectly acceptable form of written media for your consumption!

You turned towards the bedroom as Kendo came back out, a pout on her lips as she went to her mug to take a few more quick sips before dumping the rest. Your brows furrowed in silent question when she finally turned towards you.

“Got called in to help with a few rougher captures.” She sighed and shook her head, “Guess the newbies weren’t as well trained in the area as we thought they were.”

“That’s understandable, was anyone hurt?”

“No casualties yet, but if you want I can keep you up to date on the progress?” You nod and she smiled, returning it before striding over to grab her bag. Instead of her usual hug and verbal goodbyes, she gave you a quiet wave as she slipped out the door. You sigh and glance around the room again before sitting down and flicking the TV on to see if there was anything good on at the moment, or if you were going to have to switch over to one of your streaming services.

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩

The moment the door shut behind her, Kendo sighed and pulled her phone out to redial Nejire-Chan.

Hello~?

“Just left their apartment, everything seems to be fine.” She spoke softly as she moved away from the door, keeping her head down as an unexpectedly deep frown found a home on her lips. She heard Nejire hum from the other end for a moment or two before she spoke again.

I’m glad to hear it! Gotta make sure Suneater’s little star stays safe… though, you seem to be troubled by something? The question almost caused Kendo to laugh, even over the phone no one could keep even a single thought from the woman’s notice.

“Did you know he had offered them to move in with him?” There was a pause on the other end before a playful groan.

Seriously? Talk about a bold move - never would’ve expected something like that from him! There was a giggle But, at the same time, too forward of a question when he doesn’t even know if they like him back or not.

“Well, from the sounds of it, they were really giving it some thought after I offered to let them move in with me.” There was another giggle and the clicking of the lavender headed hero’s tongue.

Now, don’t go around making promises you can’t keep. You have orders to keep an eye on them, not make moves! This got a full laugh instead of the usual giggles as Kendo’s cheeks burned from a flustered embarrassment. She hadn’t thought about it like that when she first offered, but there was a flutter in her chest at the thought of the domestic kind of life she could have with one of her best friends. Did she have a crush on them? She wasn’t sure, and didn’t even know where to begin trying to figure that out. Instead, she cleared her throat and decided to pull the topic in a different direction.

“Have you heard word from Monoma yet about..?”

Not yet, but I’m sure it won’t take long for LeMillion and Deku to show back up on the radar. I’m still curious as to what they were needed for over in America. Kendo could practically hear the pout through the phone call, which brought the smile back to her lips and pulled her mind from her previous thoughts.

She looked around her before walking up to the bus stop and sitting down, wrapping her arms around her bag to keep it close to her chest while she swung her legs. She got an odd fulfilled sensation whenever her feet would scrape against the concrete beneath her.

“I’m sure they’ll tell us all about it when they come home - if it wasn’t too confidential at least.” Nejire-Chan hummed in agreement. As she heard the other hero take a breath to begin speaking again, there was a soft voice on the other end catching her attention. Nejire pardoned herself for a moment and lowered the phone just enough to muffle the conversation, though Kendo could still hear it relatively well. Just as she’d been told before, it was about those villains she had to help get put into the system.

At least she hadn’t needed to tell them a lie when she had to leave, now that she thought about it.

Hey, I need to talk to you later. Let me know when you make it in! As she was hanging up, Nejire’s voice could be heard instructing the sidekick on what they should do in regards to whatever the question was they had asked.

Pulling the phone fully from her ear, she glanced around the bus stop and down both ways of the street for any sign of the bus before looking back down at her phone to scroll through her camera roll on a whim, also because she figured it was better than pulling a book up and getting sucked into the story while she was supposed to be at least somewhat focused on watching for when the bus came.

It felt like so long since any of them were in UA, and she was glad she was able to get so many memories saved into her phone during their time… it also felt a little weird that, now that she was thinking about it, that she managed to still have the same phone that she had all through school. Just that responsible with it, she supposed.

Scrolling through, there were plenty of pictures of Class B - a decent chunk  of which were just evidence  of times when Tetsutetsu and Monoma would steal her phone for impromptu photo sessions with the rest of the class. The memories made her eyes roll with a fond smile on her lips; she hadn’t heard much from Tetsu in a while, but that was to be expected when he was constantly on the job with Kirishima. Meanwhile, it was nearly impossible for her to get away from…

She blinked in surprise, opening one photo she had no recollection of finding before now. It was a selfie of Monoma and Tetsu on either side of… them. All three of them were smiling wide, as though laughing about something, and Monoma actually, genuinely, looked happier than she had ever really seen him before. Her smile came back, fonder than before, and her cheeks flushed a soft pink. For all the trouble he caused them, she really couldn’t imagine not having him as a friend. Any of them, really. She cleared her throat and put her phone down to keep herself from going emotionally overboard from the nostalgia, and just in time for the bus to arrive as well.

✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩

The rush of the air outside the airplane cabin was calming, though his leg continued to jitter as he watched the clouds pass by. He was eager to get home and sleep in his own bed, patrol his own streets… see his friends. Needless to say, he was homesick, but he was on the track back home so it wasn’t too bad anymore. It had been months since they were last in Japan, and as much as he loved being over in America to learn and do some network connecting, he was more than ready to be back. Not to mention he was ready to have authentic Japanese  food again from his favorite restaurants . Maybe he could drop by his mom’s place and get something homemade…

“You’re looking a lot better there, Deku!” The green haired man blinked and looked up at his traveling companion, his smile brighter than the sun - as per usual. Deku returned the smile, though a softer version, and nodded.

“I’m excited to be back home. I wonder how everyone’s doing.” He turned back to the window as Mirio sat across from him and looked out his own window. One of the perks of being a top five pro hero: getting to take a private plane instead of flying commercial - not that there was anything wrong with it! He just… wasn’t comfortable with tight spaces with very little options for maneuverability.

“I’m sure they’re doing just fine, though I’m also sure you knew that.” Mirio chuckled and turned his attention to Deku, “Especially with how you’ve been constantly exchanging emails with almost everyone during our time abroad.” Deku laughed and rubbed the back of his head. It was hard not to constantly be checking for new messages during their away time. Was that clingy of him? He didn’t really think so, and he was pretty sure someone would’ve told him to chill out with the instant replies. Even Bakugo hadn’t told him off about how quick he was to respond, which was a little bit of a surprise.

“Fair. How has Suneater and Nejire-Chan been, by the way? I know you’ve been keeping up with them.” Deku turned from the window and looked at Mirio, who he was surprised to see had a conspiratorial  smile and was raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Nejire told me Tamaki has a crush on one of his sidekicks!” The blonde was moving to pull out his phone to flip through his messages while Deku tried to pick up his jaw from the floor.

“That’s great! Who is it?” Mirio held his phone out to him. On the screen was a picture of Tamaki and a hero dressed in a black and white suit with white owl wings.

“She hasn’t given me their name yet, wanting me to introduce myself to them in person first so I don’t spook them or let on that they were talked about behind their back. Not that talking about a friend’s crush is all that unusual.” Mirio chuckled and shrugged as Deku handed back the phone. He smiled and nodded.

“It would probably be odd if you called them out by name without them having met you before.”

The two continued to talk, from the mystery hero to how the agencies were doing and the crime rates that they’ve been hearing about. Not to mention going over profits from their side hustle and how things were going on that front… though, it was a little hard to focus on the rest of it when the hero Tamiki was pictured with kept slipping into his thoughts.

He would probably have to go with Mirio to greet them when they landed…

[k-roi]

Scrapped Rotxo/Kiri (Rotxo x Kiri) Scene from a future Fanfic

Ok. Ok so get this, I’m working on a 5+1 Rotxo/Kiri centric fic, and I start writing times they’ve interacted. Then I’m like shit, when else did they interact other than the intro, bully scene, swim scene? So far so good. AND THEN I LOOK IT UP AND ROTXO WASNT IN AONUNG’S GANG WHO BULLIED KIRI AND LO’AK??

First of all. So good, so good. Makes the ship 10x better in my opinion—IF ONLY I HADNT ALREADY STARTED WRITING MY PROMPT WITH THE BULLYING SCENE.

Whatever, I’m just going to toss it out here TT. The premise of this prompt is 5+1 times Rotxo unknowingly caught and acted on a crush, and the one time he did so knowingly. Supposedly, this was time 2 which I had to have scrapped. Mind you, it’s not edited, lengthened or beta corrected since it’s purely scrap now. Anyways, enjoy!

2.

Rotxo had to admit, bullying the unfamiliar na’vi was kind of a shitty thing to do. Was she different? Yes. Was she a little weird about the ocean? Double yes. Did she have five fingers, a definite mutation that was, in entirely a genetic standpoint, not normal? Triple yes. Did she—okay. He was totally getting off the rail here.

What he was trying to say, was that he felt a little bad cursing at the poor girl. Especially when Aonung took it a little too far and got absolutely beat to hell and back by the tiny forest na’vi who coincidentally had the same odd genetic mutation. Maybe not that little, but, you know. Same thing, they had taken it too far in the end.

He also did not fancy waking up the next morning with a throbbing black eye, so he let Aonung do the heavy punching and just… stayed back. Maybe pulled on Lo’ak’s tail a bit. Grabbed a leg or two.

Look, he didn’t want to look too pathetic in front of her! It was a matter of pride, yes, of pride. He couldn’t look weak infront of the new na’vi and have her think he was just a henchman, or worse.

Rotxo tries to think really hard about anything but him being a henchman. Aonung simply had… specific ideals on how to handle situations. He was just trying to do the good thing and be a supportive bestfriend! He was also the chief’s first born son, so no one was trying that hard to get on his bad side. What? Being his friend gave him some pretty sweet privilages. Like… wow. Maybe Rotxo really was just a henchman, and for no particularily good reason either.

Whatever, he’d deal with that problem later. For now, he’d just worry about getting the shorter forest na’vi off of his friend. Which was proving to be kind of difficult, like he had his claws in Aonung’s skin and refused to be seperated from him. Ugh, even Rotxo in his most desperate days didn’t want to be that close to him.

He must’ve said that out loud though, or at least made a noise of disgust gripping onto Lo’ak’s leg, because at a quick glance he could see the girl giggling, mouth hidden behind a pretty, thin hand. She was looking straight at him, soft laughter filling his ears. His ears burned at the sight.

Yeah, he definitely could not look like an idiot in front of her. Which was why he attempted to push Lo’ak’s legs down and finally end the fight, incapacitate him most likely. Except he got kicked in the knee, repeatedly. Then also straight in the balls.

Eywa, he was really starting to hate the Suli siblings. Almost as much as he hated the Tonowari’s, mischievous and ruthless in whatever they wanted to do. Freaking nepotism babies, Rotxo moaned in his head, curling over in pain. Children of the Olo’eyktan’s were all different breeds of annoyances. He’d definitely get Aonung back for this later, dump raw fish juice on him while he was sleeping for dragging him into this mess.

Yeah, he’d definitely do that, Rotxo mused as he let himself just lay down in the sand, face first. He really did not want to see the pretty forest girl’s reaction to him right now, and he kind of just wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Are you alright?” An unfamiliar but easy to place voice said, sweet timber of her voice settling over his shoulders like a blanket. A hand settled over his shoulder, warmth seeping through. Great. Not only did he get kicked in the balls, had an odd revelation about his relationship with his bestfriend, and was beat by a skinnier and shorter na’vi than he was, but he failed his primary goal of not looking pathetic in front of the girl.

Being one with Eywa sounded real magical right about now, maybe have her turn his bones into dust. From dust we came, to dust we belong, he thought, trying very hard to ignore his embarrassment.

EDIT: since it’s getting attention, if you liked reading this, please consider reading mountain dweller, my rotxo/kiri first date and first kiss fic on ao3! the first and only ao3 fic solely focusing on these two 🥲 ik yall exist where tf are the writers ?? to read it, just click the blue underlined link above, labelled mountain dweller!

[not-krys]

Fictober 2023: Reaching Out

Prompts: #15 (Fine, explain it to me) and #18 (We can’t do this on our own), along with a prompt from my 100 Themes Prompt Challenge, #65: Horror (tho loosely used here)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Rating: Teen

Characters: Abigail Clarke (OC), Auntie Eliza (OC), Vincent van Gogh (Ikevamp version)

Summary: Abby has worked up the courage to tell her aunt where she has been the past year, having not contacted her family at all since she went on a trip to Paris and had been assumed missing. What would her auntie have to say if her beloved niece told her that she had time-traveled to the 19th century and had stayed in a mansion full of famous historical figures that had been turned into vampires?

Notes: OC lore building, OC x Canon, Spoilers for Vincent’s Route ending (specifically his Dramatic Ending, but here it’s a little vague), Family AU, Fluff (lots of it towards the end), pregnancy, use of Dutch when it is not a language I speak so if any usage is wrong, just know I’m using language blogs and machine translation so some things are bound to be incorrect, not beta-read

WC: 2599

My masterlist!

Also on ao3!

—---

"Abigail Grace."

Stern eyes stared into Abby's eyes, wrinkles more of a highlight rather than a feature on the older woman's face. Her aunt frowned. "Where have you been? Everyone's been worried about you."

Abby swallowed, her hands raising to her chest, her fingers curling into fists.

"It's… a little hard to explain, Auntie."

"Fine." she sighed. "Explain it to me in a way that's easy to understand."

"…Promise you'll listen to the whole thing? The whole thing?"

"There's more than just… You reappearing after being missing for months--for almost a year--with a man at your arm and a baby in your belly? And you're sure he didn't kidnap you?"

"No! Vincent didn't kidnap me! No one did!"

"Well, as long as we're clear on that…" She held her hand towards her kitchen, pulling out a chair and sitting in it. "You've got some explaining to do."

Abby sat in the opposite chair, placing a hand on her belly and taking a calming breath.

"…It started with the trip to the Louvre. I met a tall, mysterious gentleman there."

"So, you were kidnapped. Then he's the one who-!"

"No! Le Comte didn't kidnap me either! Everyone was nice! There was no coercion or bad intentions on anyone's part!"

"… A gang, then? And you've been sworn to secrecy?"

Both sets of eyes fell to a wooden bat in the corner, full of bent nails and Abby wasn't completely sure it was all red paint that was flaking off it.

"NO!" Abby shouted. "You promised you'd listen to me!"

"You've been missing for a year, Abigail." Her aunt repeated, "You're not the only one who's been on edge."

Abby flushed red, pounding her fists on the table with a loud smack.

"On edge!? I time-traveled to 19th century Paris and lived with a bunch of famous historical figures that had been turned into vampires! And when I finally got back to the present day, I wanted to keep to myself because I knew if anyone found me and I said what happened, they'd explode like this! The only reason I sought you out is because I'm having a baby and Vincent and I don't have the means to take care of him on our own! But looking for help here was clearly a mistake if this is how you're going to treat us! How's that for 'on edge', Auntie!?"

Her aunt had been stunned into silence.

"Hold on a second," she started, "Time travel? Famous historical figures? Vampires?! Abigail, have you lost your mind?"

"It's all true!" Abby clenched her fists, "Vincent is the same Vincent van Gogh! The painter! He painted Starry Night and the Almond Blossoms! Café Terrace at Night! A-and Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers!"

"Abigail, he's not *the* Vincent van Gogh. He died over 130 years ago, let alone did not become a vampire, of all things. Not only that."

Her aunt flicked Abby's ear, making her grit her teeth and shield it with her hand.

"Last I saw, Vincent still had both ears. That's part of his legend, remember?"

Abby stood up abruptly, hot tears pricking her eyes. Her son was kicking frantically, no doubt worried because she was so upset. She turned her back to the woman and grabbed her purse.

"Hey, what are you-"

"I thought I could trust you. Out of everyone, I thought you'd be the one I could turn to if I needed anything. Just like when I was a kid, you always looked out for me. When everyone else either turned their back on me or criticized me for not living up to my parents' standards, you were always there to help me."

Abby felt a hand on her upper arm, red painted nails coming into her peripheral. They were as sharp just as she remembered them, like the claws of a ferocious beast.

"Abigail, baby girl, understand what you're saying." She pulled Abby so they faced each other. "You're telling me that you time-traveled to 19th century Paris and lived with Vincent van Gogh, who was a vampire? Honey, anyone would find that hard to believe."

"But it's the truth! I lived with Vincent and his brother Theo, and-and Arthur, Arthur Conan Doyle! Isaac Newton! I got to draw sometimes with Leonardo da Vinci when he wasn't napping on the floor somewhere in the mansion! Mozart… Mozart was always a little curt, but he's like that with everyone! He always played such beautiful music when Sebastian and I were out hanging laundry! And Napoleon! Napoleon liked to tease me sometimes but he was always one of the first to help if I needed anything!"

"Abigail, calm down." the older woman rubbed her arm. "You've clearly been through something, that much is clear."

Abby sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her other arm.

"And I… I know it all sounds so… so… so ridiculous. But, this isn't something I could make up. There's just…too many specifics for it to be made up, Auntie."

"Yes, famous people being turned into vampires sounds right out of a romance novel my girlfriend Hazel'd love to read."

"You… you have a girlfriend?"

"Three of them. Hazel, Gertrude, and Maud. And yes, I do mean girlfriend in the same sense of feelings you and Vincent share. We're buying some land soon and having a few houses built so that we can all be neighbors. Your dad hates the idea of four old biddies living independently, though. We're retired, he shouldn't care what we do with our lives. Nosey little creatin, hmph!"

Abby shivered at the idea and memory of her father. Auntie smiled apologetically.

"But, to make up for upsetting my favorite niece, how about you take my future house and I'll live with one of the other girls? Free of charge."

Abby froze as her aunt continued.

"And you'll need more help than just a house with a new baby, after all. Gerty has 10 kids and at least 25 grandchildren and three great-grandkids; someone is bound to have some hand-me-downs you can have. Hazel used to be a teacher and has her hands in the local quilters guild and she's always out at a charity shop somewhere. Maud is quiet, but she's a wizard with tools and the most stone-faced driver you've ever seen. You should have seen her when we vacationed in Houston. And New York. And in Shanghai! That broad can drive, ha!"

"A-Auntie… I couldn't…"

"What, you were the one to reach out for help. And I'm giving it to you."

"B-but, Auntie, I couldn't take this much!"

"Don't think too much about it, baby girl." She pulled her into arms, hugging her tightly. "Your Auntie Eliza has always looked out for you, remember?"

Abby nodded, feeling tears in her eyes again but for a different reason.

"And… I'm glad to see you again, kiddo. You really did have all of us worried. Especially me."

Now Auntie Eliza was wiping her eyes, mysteriously not smudging her makeup.

"I wanted to choke your father when he came here, looking for you," she mumbled, "Giving me no answers. Just that you had disappeared in Paris without a trace."

"And, honestly, a phone call… or a letter would have been nice." She pouted. "I would have supported you if you said you'd eloped with a painter in Paris or something!"

"I'm not that adventurous, Auntie." Abby laughed quietly.

"Hmm, I doubt that. More than you're giving yourself credit for, anyway."

"You think so?"

Eliza smirked and pointed at her large belly.

"That certainly proves it."

Abby blushed and looked away, rubbing her belly out of habit. Eliza chuckled and kissed her cheek.

"Now, how about you and I have some tea and you can tell me about your adventures time-traveling and escaping the vampires. I'll have Maud take you back to your place later."

"…Thank you, Auntie."

"Anything, if it's for you, sweetie. I'm glad you're here …and alright. And happy."

The two smiled at each other, feeling like old times whenever Abby visited in her childhood. She felt safe and supported in her aunt's presence again, her strongest lifeline before Vincent came along.

They chatted as Abby told her story, how she time-traveled in Paris, meeting all the famous figures turned vampires, and, most important, how she and Vincent fell for each other, how they were separated and reunited again in the present day.

Auntie Eliza couldn't help but notice how much Abby had grown from her trip to the past (that's what they're calling it now, seeing as Abby wouldn't say anything to the contrary). How the once sullen little girl, afraid of her own shadow, was smiling more and talking excitedly, especially when she was talking about Vincent. Eliza had always been proud of her niece, more than her parents had ever been, but, even as she was being regaled with fantastical tales no one else would believe, she couldn't help but feel the change. A change for the better, in her opinion. When she met with Vincent again, she'd have to remember to thank him for helping Abby come out of her shell and into the woman she was becoming. And if she ever met this le Comte and all the others she met at this mansion she kept talking about, she'd have to thank them too, for helping her too. She put her hand under her chin with a smile, listening to Abby rattle on without a care in the world, glowing happily.

--------------

Vincent sat on the couch of his and Abby's apartment, tapping a pencil in his hand with a sketchbook in his lap. On the page were several scribbled gestures from memory of Abby. Cameras were more advanced in this time and his phone was filled to the brim with pictures of her, of course, but it eased his nerves to sketch her. Messy as his lines were, he could still recognize her face and silhouette.

He should have gone with her, he thought for the hundredth time. He still had nightmares of the day she disappeared behind Comte's door, where he couldn't reach her for three months and a year. What if she disappeared again, he thought with horror. Her and their little son he never got to properly meet? Gone from his reach for good this time?

A small snap brought him back from his spiraling thoughts, broken wood and silvery lead coating his hand. Vincent breathed in and set the sketchbook and the crushed pencil on the couch.

"She will be back," he said softly. "She will be fine. They will both be fine."

He closed his eyes, picturing her perfectly in his mind's eye. Her inquisitive eyes as she watched him paint. The way her hair fell in her face when she was concentrating on something she was working on. Her graceful little hands cupping her belly more and more as she grew with their son. He reached out for her, longing to touch her, unfortunately only finding empty air.

He sighed heavily.

"I'll call her."

He fussed around in his pocket and pulled out his phone, finding her name in his favorites to call.

Before he could press the green call button however, the front door opened, revealing Abby with her hair all over the place and heavy bags in her arms.

"Schatje!" Vincent was quick on his feet, making his way towards her.

Her bags fell to the floor with a loud crash, revealing various baby items and knitted socks spilling everywhere. Before Vincent could react, however, two arms encircled him tightly while his lips were captured much the same way.

After a moment, Abby finally pulled away to catch her breath.

"We have a house, Vincent." she said.

"…What?"

"My auntie, she's… she's giving us a house!"

"Schatje?"

"I-I told her everything and she and her girlfriends are helping us. That's what all this stuff is. A-and there's more coming, too."

"More?"

"We don't have the room for it right now, but--a house, Vincent! We're getting a house!"

Vincent, still partially stunned at the news, could only smile at how happy Abby was. He reached for her cheek, rubbing his thumb against her escaping tears.

"That's wonderful news, Schatje." he said, "I'm so proud of you. See what you can do when you set your mind to things?"

She nodded, leaning into his touch.

"I'm glad things turned out so well."

Vincent pressed his cheek against hers, brushing back her mussy hair and holding her close.

"I'm glad you're back. I missed you."

He rubbed her back, his earlier anxiety evaporated as he was wrapped in her once again.

"I missed you too," she said before giggling, moving one of his hands on her belly. "We missed you."

Vincent laughed, feeling the little kick against his palm.

"And I missed you too, Little Theo. Just as passionate as your Oom."

Abby laughed softly, putting her hand over top his, leaning up to kiss him again. He returned her kiss in kind, pulling her in again, tempted to just sweep her into his arms and love her on the first surface he came across. He only refrained when he could sense her fatigue as she leaned against him.

Instead, he opted to sweep her up and put her in their bed, her squeal of surprise making him laugh again.

"But, Vincent, the bags…"

"We can clean them up later." He rubbed his nose against hers. "I said I missed you, remember?"

"Yes?"

"I'm correcting that now." He set her in the bed and crawled up next to her, pulling her closer.

"A-alright." She put her head on his chest, hearing his racing heart. She laced her hand with his, squeezing it gently. Vincent hummed in approval.

"Welcome back, Schatje."

"I'm glad to be back, my love. Today was a good day."

"Any day I'm with you is a good day."

"Yes, that's true."

Vincent pulled her closer, running his fingers through her hair.

"…Vincent?"

"Hmm?"

"…Ik… Ik hou van jou."

Vincent looked at her blonde head as her fingers curled against his hand, feeling his cheeks warm. He then smiled and kissed her head.

"Ik houd ook van jou. You're getting better."

"T-thank you. I'd like to be able to fully talk to you in Dutch… one day. For Little Theo too."

"You're improving all the time. Have you been practicing the lullaby I taught you?"

"The one about the little sheep? It's so cute. It reminds of Lotte, Sebastian's sheep. I picture her whenever I'm practicing."

"Sing it for me? I want to hear how it sounds."

"…I don't have the pronunciation down quite right yet."

"I'll help you. Please, sing for me?"

Abby still hesitated, burying her face in his chest. Thinking he had pushed too far, he was about to apologize before he heard her soft voice, tentative in her notes and words.

"Slaap, kindje slaap… Daar buiten loop teen schaap…"

"Een schaap met witte voetjes," Vincent joined her when she stumbled, her soon following his lead, "Die drinkt zijn melk zo zeotjes…"

"Slaap, kindje slaap…" Her voice was growing softer, her eyes growing heavier.

"Slaap, Schatje, slaap…" Vincent sang to her, closing his eyes as well. "Slaap Schatje, slaap…"

He soon only heard her soft breathing, his love having indeed fallen asleep. Not that he was too far behind, comforted by her warmth and presence. He only released her hand to turn off the nearby lamp, picking her hand back up again the dark, keeping it close as sleep soon took over him too.

[theinsanecrayonbox]

Sabretooth War part 3

Well…it’s better than the first two, and you know why I think that is

Lavalle seems to be helming this one. I went back to check Part 2 and yeah

Percy helmed the first two (and they had a diff artist interesting). So I’m wondering if they’re just gonna switch off issues.

Also

Arkady is once again Sir Not Appearing. Then again, almost all of these characters don’t appear in this issue, so idk what to make of this section anymore. But it’s weird right, that the rest of the X-Force cast AND the guest characters are here, but not him.

Anyways, story time. Geeze let’s see if I can remember because I read it last night but my phone refused to let me post about it, and this story does not have particularly great staying power…

We open on the Team X flashbacks as the previews told us. Savage and Camo call Vic out on not being a good leader

Wait he’s got metal bones again?? Would’ve been nice to have SEEN that happen instead of being TOLD about it. Also Savage knows Weapon X? I would’ve thought being Savageland lady her works might not have had one…huh. But wait, this is alternate reality adamantium; does it work the same, have the same poisoning effects, is that why Vic isn’t using his brain because the metals are rotting it away?? Is that where the adamantium coils came from? Did you melt some of alternate Red’s coils for your bones?? Boy what an uninteresting line of questions glad we skipped that story beat /sarcasm

Uh…what happened next…I think we followed Victor to bed?? Quinten’s head is in the jar like Headpool; it’s Orchis tech that apparently took a long time to learn how to use properly (again great job not showing us a good story). Vic takes a nap…Quinten makes a psychic call…to the Pit Gang

ARE YOU KIDDING ME! I was again JOKING about the whale jumping!! WHY is this a thing??? And oh look I was right, it doesn’t save the story.

Wait you guys had reality hopping too? HOW? WHY?? Yeah ok, we got screwed out of a whole miniseries for this gorefest didn’t we. Two boats reality hopping, earning character development, screwing up so many timelines, THAT’S an Exiles storyline, not…this. Argh.

Pit Gang is annoyed that they have to go back to work, but decide to do it anyways in a scene after the next bit, but I’m just summarizing it now because really, I don’t wanna focus on these guys longer than needed, they really are a distraction from the main focus.

Back with the SabreSquad, Savage and Camo are conspiring

Uhg gross. 1) that’s still a terrible retcon for Laura. 2) you actually are a clone because the respawn team made a second you (you) when the original you (Talon) was thought dead in the Vault, plus you have metal bones. 3) oh geeze they’re using alpha/beta/omega language, uh…not my fault (please don’t be my fault) (*I know it’s not really just laugh at the bit*)

Savage rips Laura’s jaw off, because we needed some ***sExY vIoLeNcE**{tm}. But hey, this and ripping into Camo earlier were the only gore fights this time, so it isn’t as bad as the others (so…Percy is the pointless gorehound…that seems to track). Oh and as a lady who suffers from scruff, Savage having some works fine for me; it was weird she was so smooth before, but I agree some with the tags that she needs some more muscle bulk and a bit of height.

Anyways, after torturing Laura it’s more conspiring to overthrow Victor time

1) No Camo you weren’t there when they fought Graydon, we have no idea where you came from. You might’ve been on the ship awaiting decapitation sure, but you didn’t escape and help beat up Graydon with the others. Lavalle wrote that part, how’d he forget?? 2) well we know from April solicits how this subplot will end, thanks marketing spoilers! 3) Pretty Boy really did have the braincell huh, cause this isn’t a good plan

We kinda bookend the issue with another Team X flashback as Vic is dreaming. He wakes up, Quinten head is also dreaming? It plays some sort of a map that Logan doesn’t like? Idk, but Vic is all “haha lemme derail what little plot there is and go do that instead next time” The End

Overall this issue was better than the previous 2, but it’s still not good. It very much feels like we cut out an important storyline just to do this, and yet now we are already bored of this and are cutting it short to switch to something else completely (gee I feel Ike I’ve said that about Percy storylines before). The flashbacks, though nice and will probably have a forced pay off eventually, feel out of place in this story format. There was less over the top gore and more focus on characterization so that’s good. But then we cut away focus for the Pit Gang and that kinda stalled things out; we already have too large of a cast of characters not getting enough focus (some completely forgotten) and this just adds yet another group that we’re not really gonna care about because they aren’t either of the title characters.

This whole thing is just confuzzling. Still gonna keep with it, but man, it’s still not going good.

[grievedifferent]

drabble/meta request: the moment josh starts putting the plan in place, what sparked the initial idea and different drafts of it, what traps or scares got left on the cutting room floor?

ask me questions about my character! ☆ always accepting ☆ @mountaindmned

i think this idea was planned for a while. i've mentioned before how much stress he puts on like his scene with sam when he tells her how important it is she came, her reflections about josh in her police interview about them being close, his general evasiveness during that year (as kind of ... not directly commented on but almost eluded to? by his lack of relationship status with the gang sans chris), etc. here is a post that might just add context as to josh's year between the pranks ie more his time in the system.

this started early. here is why i think this:

a) it doesn't seem like anyone actually fessed up to josh. likely what happened is that josh woke up, the gang realized the girls were not coming back, and josh then sprung into action (with likely chris), spurring action from the others. he had to call the police, he had to tell his parents, and the most consistent story he could get was likely "hannah got upset about mike, she ran off, beth followed". i say this because it seems like josh got that footage somehow (likely matt dropped the camera or something out of stress / not thinking about it). i have also mentioned that the washington family would have sued those kids so hard. i also follow the 2015 release's version of the prank a lot more than the remake for a lot of reasons, which i detail here. more context here. if he would have told his parents, they would have just handled it. i think josh 1) doesn't rely much on his parents, partially a distrust that stems from his illness (sometimes they are heroes, sometimes they are against him), and 2) josh thinks that he can take care of this the way it needs to be taken care of. no parents involved.

b) josh kind of almost implies he knows nothing about their prank on hannah by playing dumb. he's also playing dumb to "being killed" like they could have been killed after leaving, but his general vibe is like "totally naive to the whole thing". this is much more subtle, i guess, but it's there if you look for it.

i'm going to be cheesy and say a lot of "what got scrapped" was what we were supposed to be in the beta of the 2013 prototype by supermassive. likely a solo death for him, more intense probing of sam (the scene is much more explicit with her nudity in the prototype), and probably some additional jumpscares that seemed too cheesy or unbelievable. he might have considered the idea of killing himself out of grief in front of them (not for real, of course), or maybe "josh makes a choice" ... but chris is his hero figure. chris and ashley are painted to be the likable protags for josh's movie.

the amount of detail work, planning, plotting, and just actual work (on top of deliveries, getting these funds (and what i mean by this is that like ... i've mentioned josh either has a bank account he can access or his parents literally do not watch his spending, like he is unmanaged in the money department badly), etc) that this "prank" entails, on top of setting up cameras and a "workshop base", as well as making an entire original character to play ... is almost more than a year's worth of work.

it's also worthy to note that josh basically wrote this with like ... an improvised script in mind. enough dialogue to get the scenes where they need to be, but without writing the lines for the actors. he knows these people very well. he knows what they'll say or what they'll do to get the scene in the direction it needs to go. that is immensely eye-opening to his character. he is insanely good at reading people. he took his education seriously.

what sparked the idea? i think this group plays a lot of pranks even before the game. they are always pranking each other, we see it throughout the game in many ways from jess pranking mike, emily pranking matt, josh messing with chris, chris pranking sam and josh, etc etc. the list goes on. so ... logically, it makes sense that josh would do a 1-for-1. everything he does to the gang is parallelling what he views happened to hannah.

he thinks sam's relationship with hannah meant more to hannah than it did to sam, thus his relationship with sam will mean more to sam than it will to him. chris was not involved in the prank, and he needs "encouragement" to get with ashley. he "makes chris a hero figure" in his film (chris would have likely gone after hannah seeing how he willingly goes after sam and josh despite his bravery stat being so low wtf) with ashley as the victim (hannah was a victim) ... but also ashley didn't "see" a lot being literally in the closet facing matt? what was the point? thus her "tier of guilt" has her lower than some of the others. here is josh's tier of guilt list. i believe he was trying to make a sex tape of mike and jess to parallel hannah being exposed on film (the original note literally tells her to take off her shirt ... it's very ooc of her to do that just on her own, i'm sorry). hard to say with em and matt, i have considered some options, and then we see chris and ash, and then sam is like ... i mean, he's obviously tormenting her by making her watch, which is what he thinks she did with hannah. the bystander. watch your own demise. watch josh die. you watched hannah die. that kind of thing. comfort in the pain of others. too afraid to raise your voice (she literally whispers in the intro and even quiets herself when she heard hannah going up the stairs with the others). she is a pacifist. also, he's more artistically bombarding sam in an aesthetically horrifying way (she is the artist).

the second he saw that video, the gears were turning. he just had to "get better enough" to do it.

[artekai]

For the kisses ask: 26) Giggling while kissing, with whichever ship makes you feel most happy right now!

Awww that's a sweet one, thank you sm!! :D

I meant to write a microfic but I got carried away and ended up making it a lot longer hehe ^^ I also accidentally made it a whole messy mix of bittersweet and a strange attempt at humor but either way here it is! :D

There hadn't been a single moment of rest at the Base since Tilda and Fross had betrayed Far Zenith and become unofficial members of the GAIA gang. Artekai still went out to hunt and train every day, yes — but he didn't go far, choosing to spend more time at the base than ever before. Now that his boyfriend was around full-time and the infiltration of the Far Zenith base was drawing nearer with each passing minute, he knew there was no time to waste. He and Fross were now attached at the hip, the way Artekai had only been with two different people before him. And with Varl, GAIA, and Beta gone, the only laughter that was heard at the Base was theirs. Whenever Kai was around, Fross could be found either sitting on his lap, or perched on his back, or happily settled between his arms. They spoke in hushed tones, but their bright smiles were almost contagious as their giggles filled the silence — even Fross, who usually took up very little space, let himself laugh loudly and messily, with that little scrunch of his nose that betrayed genuine happiness. Despite the gravity of the situation, Aloy couldn't help but be glad to see Artekai acting like his old self again. Tilda herself hadn't seen Fross laugh like that around anyone other than Stanley Chen. It wasn't that they weren't capable of being serious or even quiet at times, but that was how Erend found them after he had left his seat for two seconds. Apparently, he couldn't look away, because, as soon as he came back, Artekai and Fross had already taken his place, sitting in front of each other as they giggled between kisses. Honestly, he had no idea what they found so funny all of the time, so he assumed they were simply addicted to one another. "Again, seriously?" He said. "Come on... get a room, you two!" This only made them giggle harder, and Artekai had to stop kissing Fross to smirk at Erend and lift a brow. "Cranky 'cause you don't have a cute Zenith boyfriend like mine, huh?" Fross's smile widened, as he buried his face into the crook of Kai's neck. "Let him be jealous, dear. We have each other." "Yeah. You know what?" Kai stood up, effortlessly lifting Fross up with him and placing him against his shoulder. "We will go get a room, thanks, Erend." As Kai quickly headed towards the stairs that led to the control room, he giggled again, but Fross simply gave Erend a smug look and a middle finger, sticking his tongue out. Even if Erend had not been studying the Old Ones long before now, the intentions of that gesture would have been pretty clear. "Young love." Tilda mused, nearly jumpscaring Erend. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" "Uh." Erend scratched the back of his neck, grumbling. "It's not exactly young, but whatever." That was the end of the conversation, but Erend still let out a sigh, knowing he had probably just enabled Kai and Fross even more. You win some, you lose some, he guessed.

[highqueenofelfhame]

I’m not posting a tag list for this part because it’s late and I’m exhausted and wanna get it out for you guys. If it does poorly I’ll go back and tag but right now I’m just very over tag lists. Follow the “#hqoe f&f” tag or “falsehoods & fistfights” or “Hqoe writes” tags to more closely follow my work. You can also follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites and turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of my writing! I’m not doing this to be mean, I’m doing it to save time and frustration when the tagging system fails (as it often does)

Hugest shoutout in the world to @punkassbookjockey26 for being the best beta in the entire world. She helped so much with this update!! Give her a pat on the back.

Part One // Masterlist

Rowaelin // 5681 words

~*~

For the last several hours, the clatter of her clicking keyboard and the flipping of pages had been on a continuous loop. At some point, Aelin had opened Spotify and forgotten to turn on any music, clearly content to keep to her rigorous work pace in near-silence. The door to her office was closed, and no one had stopped by to bother her since she’d arrived. Only a handful of phone calls had disrupted her this morning, which meant she had gotten plenty of work done.

Except that it wasn’t morning at all— it was two in the afternoon, and she couldn’t quite figure out how the hell that had happened. She was still squinting at the time on her computer screen when a firm knock sounded at the door, and she called out, “Yes?”

“Have you eaten today?” At the sound of Rowan’s voice, Aelin’s head whipped toward the door. She was unable to stop the smile that spread wide across her face or stop herself rising from her chair to meet him. Aelin perched against her desk, accepting the brown paper bag he held in his hands. No, she hadn’t eaten, not since her half a bagel and cup of coffee before she arrived at work. She’d left a banana in her car for a snack but hadn’t wanted to run back down for it.

“Barely. I didn’t even realize it was past lunch,” Aelin sighed, looking back up at his face. Rowan was grinning down at her as she tore a bite of croissant off and popped it into her mouth. The man looked criminally good, wearing jeans that hugged his legs in all the right places and a white button-up shirt. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and her eyes lingered on his tattoo that swirled down to his fingertips.

“Can I kiss you in here?” His question caught her off guard, a laugh bursting from her lips. “Because this whole…” Rowan gestured to her outfit. “It’s really doing it for me.”

“You like librarian Aelin?”

“Yes,” he said, leaning down to press his lips to hers. The get-up he referred to was a pinstriped pencil skirt that hit just above her knees and patent black stiletto heels that had her only a few inches shorter than him. She had a red tank top tucked into the skirt and, at some point, had discarded her white cardigan over the back of her office chair. Her lips matched her shirt in a bright, matte, red lipstick that she’d neglected to touch up throughout the day. Still, when Rowan pulled away, his mouth was tinged with the outline of hers. “I like this a lot. Fuck.”

“For the record, you can kiss me anywhere you want to,” she told him. “Especially in my office, especially when the door is closed.”

“Noted.” Rowan tugged on her high ponytail before sinking into one of the leather armchairs in front of her. Aelin continued to munch on the variety of pastries he’d brought for her while his eyes seemed to be glued to her legs. Aelin wondered if he was thinking about laying her out on this desk and having his way with her here, but she also knew he wouldn’t let that be their first time. No matter how badly she wanted it to be.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Whitethorn?” She asked, nudging his thigh with the toe of her shoe. The way he raked his teeth over his bottom lip before looking up at her told her that, yes, he was thinking what she was thinking. The way he quirked his brow at her also told her that, no, it wasn’t going to happen.

They were kind of dating, in the sense that they had been on a handful of dates. They had shared many heated kisses against the door to her apartment when he dropped her off, but he was being such a godsdamn gentleman about all of it that they hadn’t had sex yet. Aelin would have fucked him in the bathroom of the bar that first night, and they both knew it. But something was holding him back. To be fair, she couldn’t place all of the blame on him. She was holding back as well. Whatever this was between them felt like something that could be extraordinary, and she didn’t want to be the one that fucked it all up because she couldn’t keep it in her pants.

“I have a fight on Saturday, and I was really hoping you would want to come. Obviously, I would give you tickets, plus however many extra you want to bring whoever.”

“Just Aedion, I think.” Her cousin would likely die to be personally invited to one of Rowan Whitethorn’s fights, the same way Aelin knew he’d been having a bit of a mental breakdown when he found Aelin with him at the bar.

“Not your friends’ cup of tea?” He teased with a grin.

“Not even really mine, but you get like, almost naked for these things, yeah?” Rowan’s head tilted back as he laughed, reaching out to catch her fingers between his own. He squeezed them, shaking his head at her. “I’m just saying, any female fans you have are not because they want to watch you fight. I Googled you.”

“Of course you did.”

“And if coming on Saturday,” she paused, fighting the twitch of her lips at the innuendo, “is what gets me to see you sweaty and naked, I will be there.”

“Apparently, you can find that on Google also.” Aelin started to jerk her hand from his, but he laughed again and tugged forcefully enough that she dropped into his lap, his arms settling around her hips.

They didn’t have sex on her desk by the time he left, but he did have a trail of lipstick down his neck and red smudges on his collar.

~*~

There had only been a few times where Aelin had seen Aedion this excited. He was practically jumping out of his skin, trying and failing to keep his wide grin at bay. The whole way there, he’d talked about Rowan’s stats and how likely it was for him to win this fight. Apparently, it was very likely, and according to Aedion, if anyone bet against Rowan in the gambling pools, they were going to lose a lot of money.

This version of Aedion was almost completely opposite the one that had shown up an hour late to the bar a few weeks ago, only to find Aelin perched in his personal hero’s lap.

By the time Aelin spotted a familiar head of golden blonde hair making his way through the crowd, Rowan had stayed true to his promise. He’d bought her not one but two drinks, and she had a very happy buzz flowing through her.

“Aedion!” She hadn’t bothered to get out of Rowan’s lap; she liked the way his hand felt on her thigh, the other twirling a piece of hair around his finger while he talked to the tall, broody one— Lorcan.

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay; I made friends! And a fiancé!” Rowan laughed then, sticking his hand out for Aedion to shake.

“I’m the fiancé. Rowan Whitethorn. You must be the cousin she’s been waiting on.”

“I got held up at work. Aedion Ashryver, nice to meet you.” Despite the cool and collected exterior Aedion was giving off, Aelin knew without a doubt that he was dying inside. She spent several nights curled up on his couch while Aedion and his friends watched Rowan’s fights, though she’d never cared enough to pay attention. Usually, she disappeared to his guest room to read a book or snuck out after an acceptable amount of time to hang out with her own friends.

Aelin had heard about Rowan’s victories time and time again. When Aedion showed her different self-defense moves, he would say that Rowan Whitethorn took someone down with the same simple maneuver. To say that he admired Rowan would be an understatement. He damn near idolized him.

“Nice to meet you? That’s what you’re going with?” Aelin asked, mouth dropping open as everything Aedion had ever said about the man beneath her flooded her memory. Aelin looked at Rowan, shaking her head and pointing at her cousin. “All I ever hear about when you have a fight coming up is ‘Rowan Whitethorn this’ and ‘Rowan Whitethorn that.’ Yet now he’s here, and all he says is nice to meet you. Unbelievable.”

“Rowan doesn’t look like someone who particularly cares for fan service. Though if I’m wrong, correct me, and I will rectify that immediately. On my knees even, if he decides he’s interested in men at all.”

Aelin’s lips dipped into a drunk pout as she said, “I saw him first.”

“Technically, I saw you first,” Rowan interjected, a teasing tone in his voice. “And you rejected me.” A wrinkle appeared between her brows as she looked up at Rowan’s handsome face, disliking that she was already being ganged up on.

“I’m sorry— you rejected him?” Aedion sputtered in disbelief. Aelin flicked Rowan’s nose, and just like that, they settled into an easy banter that tugged on Aelin’s heart entirely too much.

Now, though, Aedion seemed to be nearly vibrating out of his skin with excitement. At will-call, they’d learned Rowan had set aside special floor seating just for them. When they walked into the arena, Aelin was pleased to see Rowan’s group of friends from the bar. She’d spent the most time with Fenrys than anyone else, and he welcomed her with a big hug, insisting she sit beside him instead of Lorcan. Aelin was more than happy to oblige, as Lorcan didn’t seem to have a taste for her. He didn’t even bother saying hello.

They settled into their seats, Aelin sitting between Fenrys and Aedion, both of whom had skipped the pleasantries and moved right into a conversation about the upcoming fight. Aelin leaned back into her chair and took in the surroundings. There were bits and pieces she remembered from her time barely watching matches with Aedion, but it was still different than what she expected. There was a large octagonal ring in the center of the room surrounded by black fencing that had to be about six feet tall. She wondered briefly if the fence was to keep people out or to keep the fighters in.

People were milling about, but Aelin realized that the arena itself was three levels high, and seats were piled around the room from floor to ceiling. There had to be thousands of them, and from the look of the crowds filing in, there wasn’t going to be an empty spot in the house. She hadn’t realized that MMA had such a following.

After about twenty minutes, the lights dimmed and the booming voice of the announcer filled the arena. People cheered wildly as the introductions for the fight were made and the sponsors were thanked. And finally, Aeling knew it was time. The announcer over-dramaticized the entrance for the first fighter and Aelin watched as a lean-muscled man walked up to the ring. He entered through a gate on the side, and people cheered as he made his rounds. Aelin sat on the edge of her seat for the announcer to start his next introduction, ready to see Rowan walking through the tunnel, when a different name was announced and a different man came strolling out. The confusion must have been all over her face when she looked at Aedion because he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Rowan is the main event,” he said. “Which means there are a few fights before his.”

“Seriously? You mean I have to wait?” Aedion nodded and her scowl deepened. “How long?”

“Looking at the schedule, Rowan’s fight is slated to start in about two hours.”

“Two hours?! I have to wait two hours!?”

“Come on, Ace. It won’t be that bad. Just try to enjoy it.” Aedion turned away and was immediately drawn into the fight that had begun in the ring just a few feet in front of her. Aelin pouted, remembering all the reasons why she never stuck around to watch these matches with Aedion previously.

“All I wanted was to see Rowan sweaty and half-naked. I literally don’t care about anyone else,” she grumbled, mostly to herself. Beside her, Fenrys chuckled and threw his arm around the back of her seat as she settled back. Aelin frowned down at her phone, opening Snapchat to get a quick photo of her expression, which she promptly sent to Rowan.

It took him a good ten minutes to reply back to her, and it seemed he knew why she was pouting because the text across his photo simply said be patient.

After that, she didn’t want to bother him, and whatever pre-match rituals he may have, so she settled for scrolling through various social media apps to bide her time. When she found herself restless, she gave in and opened her book app to continue reading a romance novel she’d started the day before. The male love interest may have been a boxer and may have been incredibly sexy, and she may have downloaded it after searching for fighting-related books.

She had just reached a particularly steamy part of the book when she felt Aedion nudge her arm. Godsdamn him, the leading male was just about to give the girl the orgasm of her life when he’d interrupted. Aelin scowled up at her cousin, but the expression morphed into one of incredulity and excitement when she heard Rowan’s name announced, and he walked out into the arena.

Aelin immediately perked up in her seat, sliding her phone between her thigh and the chair. Rowan strolled out like a king surveying his kingdom, and the cheers were deafening. He wore absolutely nothing but a pair of forest green athletic shorts that left little to the imagination and some sort of fist guards over his hands. A wicked grin formed on his lips as he jogged up to the ring and hoisted himself up over the side with practiced ease. There was a very dramatic introduction, one that had the entire crowd screaming and getting to their feet. Aelin couldn’t help but join them, giving a standing ovation to the man she’d spent so many stolen hours with lately. Beside her, Aedion was absolutely losing it. It only made her smile more.

Even as the arena quieted while the referee explained the rules, nobody returned to their seats. Everyone stayed on their feet, and Aelin could understand why. Once the fight started and the hits and kicks started to get thrown around, she found herself filled with a restless energy that she couldn’t push down. Every time his opponent’s fist swung toward him, her heart began to beat frantically in her chest.

But Rowan ducked and dipped out of reach almost every time. The way the muscles of his arms and legs rippled every time he took a swing at the other man, Cairn, her mouth went dry. She hadn’t walked into the arena tonight expecting to find anything about the fight beautiful, but it was. The way that Rowan’s body moved was like watching a dance unfold before her. Every swing of his arm or swift kick of his leg sending her heart racing just like it had when she’d watched ballets growing up. It felt like such a bizarre comparison to make, but Rowan Whitethorn’s body was nothing short of a work of art.

But there was also a ferocity in it. Where ballet was soft and demure, Rowan was a force of nature. His face was hewn from stone, each strike with his hands or legs precise and controlled, but with an element of chaos surrounding it. He unleashed himself on Cairn, throwing punches and kicks swiftly, so quick that Aelin could not keep up with where the next one was going to land. With brutal efficiency, Rowan managed to get past Cairn’s guard to deliver several painful-looking blows in quick succession that had the crowd collectively wincing. It seemed that Aedion’s idolization hadn’t been misplaced.

Rowan breathed heavily, sweat dripping down every inch of his torso. His abdominals flexed with every exhale, showing off every hard line and sharp curve. The tattoo that swirled down his left side glistened under the bright lights of the arena. He looked like a god, and Aelin discovered that she found it quite difficult to keep her mind from falling off into the gutter when he looked like that.

When he made the final blow, a hit to Cairn’s face that had him unconscious before he even hit the floor, Aelin was surprised by how wholly turned on she was. He dominated the fight and looked damn good while doing it. Rowan was announced as the winner, fierce triumph written all over his face as the crowd completely lost their minds. Pride swelled in her stomach, and she couldn’t help her wide smile as she cheered along with the thousands of people in the arena. Even though it was televised, it felt special when he made eye contact with her and grinned before exiting the ring and heading her way.

Of course, he was intercepted about a dozen different times by dozens of different people offering their congratulations. When he finally got to her, he dipped down and hugged her tightly to his chest, pulling her feet off the ground. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin layers of her clothing, scorching her skin. The smell of him, a musky scent of sweat and the pine body wash she had come to associate with him assaulted her nose and she breathed him in deep. She felt the want ratcheting up in the most delicious way and knew that she would no longer be content with a night of only being pressed against her apartment door. Their kisses, no matter how desperate they had been, wouldn’t be enough to sate the need she felt for him. She needed all of him, and she needed him as raw and unrestrained as he had been during that fight. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as her feet met the floor, and he stepped back.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”

“You were amazing.” Amazing didn’t quite cover it, but it was the only word she could think of that came anywhere close.

“Does that mean you’ll come out with me tonight? To celebrate?” She wanted to say yes immediately. But with him in front of her, covered in sweat and looking like the only thing she wanted her mouth to touch for the foreseeable future, Aelin shook her head as her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. The disappointment began to cloud his handsome face, but she shook her head faster as though it would dispel his negative thoughts.

“I was kind of hoping I could steal you away. Celebrate with you alone.” Her voice was low and sultry, and she almost laughed because she could see him calculating just what that meant. The two of them. A celebration. Entirely alone, with no one else around.

“I— yeah. Yes. We can— yes. I have to wrap up here and then we can go to my place?” At all of his stuttering, she couldn’t help the bright laughter that bubbled out of her as the usually confident man in front of her stumbled a bit. His attention was drawn away temporarily when Aedion clapped Rowan on the shoulder and began to spew his admiration and congratulations. Rowan took it with grace, thanking him for coming while trying to keep his eyes off Aelin’s face. The way she bit her lip clearly wasn’t helping because his eyes kept dropping down to her mouth.

When a member of his team told him he needed to hurry— he had a short press conference post-fight and still wanted to shower before— Rowan dropped a chaste kiss to her lips and headed back to the locker room.

Aelin waited not-so-patiently, standing on the outside of Rowan’s group of friends in the parking lot while they talked. Aedion fit right in, pointing out the highlights of the fight with renewed vigor. He still seemed to be riding the adrenaline high from watching Rowan fight , and Aelin was sure he would implement something of what they saw into her self defense training.

When Rowan finally came out, they all cheered and shoved him around their little circle in celebration. He was grinning from ear to ear as he reached for Aelin and pulled her into his side, dropping a kiss to her hair. It was impossible to stop the tug she felt in her stomach, something between excitement and nerves. Everything inside seemed to be tied up in delicious knots as she leaned into him, enveloped by the scent of his body wash, the smell of pine equal parts comforting and arousing. “Where are we going tonight?” Fenrys drawled, throwing his arm around Vaughan. The quiet, dark-haired man tried to shrug out of it, but it only ended with him in a headlock.

“I will actually be stealing him away,” Aelin said before Rowan could even get a word in. Rowan’s hold on her shoulder tightened as he squeezed, and she squeezed him back where she had her arm around his waist, secretly thrilled that he was as on board with this plan as she was. His friends groaned in protest but Aelin and Rowan laughed. Lorcan looked particularly displaced about the revelation and was the first to step backward out of the circle and bid farewell. It didn’t take long for the others to follow and for Aelin to lace her fingers through Rowan’s and tug him toward his car.

While their pace could be described as leisurely, Aelin felt anything but. Now alone, she felt that want from earlier return with a vengeance. Rowan squeezed her hand, and her mind immediately wandered to those strong hands touching elsewhere, all over. A quick glance up at him left her reeling when she caught his gaze on her, and swore she saw every dirty thought that crossed his mind. It excited her, knowing that despite his cool, calm exterior wrapped around all of that cockiness, Rowan Whitethorn was just as affected as she was by what was to come.

When they arrived at his car, a sleek, black sports car that was perfectly him, Rowan opened the passenger door for her, ushering her in. Aelin turned her head towards him, and under the parking lot lights, she could see where Rowan had taken a bit of a beating.

Ducking inside the car, Aelin turned to look at Rowan, her thumb coming to brush over a bruise that was forming on his cheek. It was already a blue-purple color, indicating that it would only look worse over the next few days. Luckily he hadn’t taken too many hits, so this seemed to be the worst of his injuries. There was one other place near his temple that had drawn a little bit of blood but it was already on the mend, cleaned by the medics backstage.

“I’m okay,” he reassured her, his hand coming over to rest on her thigh. Aelin pulled hers away, startled by the softness in his voice. Her eyes searched Rowan’s for the lie that he was more hurt than he let on, but she saw nothing. She supposed it should have comforted her that Rowan knew what his limits were, but still, it seemed crazy that this man before her was the same one that had attacked Cairn in the ring and ended the fight in the first round.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice echoing the softness of his own.

“You just saw me get pummeled a few times and you’re worried about hurting me?” His voice dripped with disbelief, remnants of a laugh bubbling out. Aelin shrugged, cheeks stained a rosy blush.

“I don’t want to accidentally push on places that hurt.”

“I can assure you that anything you inflict upon me will be the sweetest kind of pain,” he promised, lacing his fingers with hers and bringing them to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles as he started the car and drove out of the dimly lit parking lot. Those knots in her stomach unspooled themselves into liquid heat as her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. “Don’t do that.”

His voice was rough with want, and it scraped over her, leaving small goosebumps on her skin. She shivered in anticipation, and ached to hear more in that deep, rumbling timbre. Reaching out a hand, she coyly ran her fingers slowly, softly up the taut skin of his arm. “Do what?”

“Bite your lip like that when I can’t kiss you.”

“If you drove faster, you would be able to kiss me,” Aelin teased, leaning over the center console to press a lingering kiss to his shoulder. Rowan’s knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel, glancing over at her as the car rolled to a stop at a red light. Soaking up the opportunity they’d graciously been given by the gods, he deftly captured her chin and crushed his lips against hers, kissing her in a way that stoked the smoldering want inside her into an inferno. She felt the sinful slide of his tongue brushing against hers, of his teeth tugging over her bottom lip like he wanted to take a bite out of her. Aelin hoped that he would.

When he pulled away, Aelin’s eyes stayed closed, her lips stayed parted. A shaky breath tumbled from them, filling the tense silence in the car. It took everything in her to sit back in her seat and let him drive. If she were to do what she truly wanted to do, she would have him pull over and climb with him into the backseat, his apartment and privacy be damned.

Aelin wasn’t so sure that Rowan would stop her if she tried to coax him into it. How they had managed to go this long without tearing each other’s clothes off was a mystery to her. As she looked over at him, her eyes lingered on those strong hands gripping the steering wheel, hands that she wanted gripping her in the same way. She desperately wanted to have his fingerprints bruised into her thighs, to see the imprints of his teeth all over her chest. The idea of his back being covered with the marks of her nails only fed that growing fire within her.

The drive seemed to take an eternity, consisting of stolen kisses at stop signs and longing looks. It was hard to keep her hands to herself, and that seemed to be the case for Rowan, too. By the time they reached his apartment, his hand had drifted so high up her thigh that it was burning a hole straight through her jeans.

Rowan held her hand loosely while they walked inside the building and to the elevator. As soon as the metal doors slid shut, however, he was tugging her toward him and pressing her back against the wall. His hands slid from her hands to her waist, dropping down to her thighs to lift her up on the railing. Aelin couldn’t help the moan that she breathed into his mouth, her fingers twining into his hair while he tugged at her lip.

When the elevator dinged on his floor, Rowan was dragging hot kisses down her throat. It seemed to be too much for him because he had to take a moment before he pulled away. Rowan’s mouth stayed against her neck while he caught his breath causing goosebumps to rise all over her skin. The doors were beginning to close again when he finally pulled away and shoved his hand out to stop them.

Aelin laughed then, sliding down from the railing and tugging him down the hall toward his apartment. At the door Rowan fumbled with his keys, pressing kisses to the side of her neck as the lock tumbled and gained them entrance.

Any restraint he had left seemed to dissipate as soon as the door was shut and locked. Once again her feet left the floor as he carried her to his room and laid her down on his bed. Their kisses were hungry, starving as he lifted her shirt and tossed it onto the floor. His hands made quick work of the rest of her clothing, and before long they were just skin on skin, his mouth drifting lower and lower down her body.

All of it was pure ecstasy, almost too much for her to handle. It didn’t take long before she fractured beneath his mouth, her nails digging into his back, scratching desperately over his skin as he moved back up her torso to press his lips against hers.

When he pulled back to look at her, something had shifted. Gone were the frantic kisses, replaced by deeper ones that stole her breath from her lungs. An impossible feeling was tugging at her heart as their bodies moved together beneath the sheets. This time when she fell over the edge, Rowan went with her. Their bodies were so tangled it was hard for her to think clearly enough about where he started and she ended. Their gasping moans were a harmony she wouldn’t soon forget as he collapsed on top of her.

Aelin’s heel pushed down the strong muscles of his thigh, his calves, silently begging him not to move. His lips ignited sparks over her collarbones as he settled atop her while her fingers ran softly up and down his sides.

Eventually Rowan rolled off of her, and she would have frowned had he not tugged her into his side a heartbeat later. Aelin draped her leg over his waist and nuzzled her face against his chest, pressing a single kiss over his heart.

The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his hands in her hair and his low humming of a forgotten melody as she drifted off into a blissful sleep.

~*~

Soft kisses were being dropped over her bare back, leaving a trail up and down her spine. Aelin hummed in approval as a grin spread across her face. Her eyes were still closed, ignoring the rays of sunshine that were likely illuminating her face, when Rowan pressed a kiss to her cheek and the corner of her mouth.

“Good morning,” she said hoarsely, her lack of voice another reminder of everything that had transpired last night. She had woken Rowan a handful of hours after their first time, rolling on top of him and placing teasing kisses over his neck and chest until his calloused hands guided her into position. That time, Aelin had been control, her hands gripping the headboard through wave after wave of pleasure. There was an ache between her legs that made her want to beg Rowan to touch her despite how exhausted she was.

“Hi, baby.”

Aelin’s smile widened as she rolled onto his back and looped her arms loosely around his neck. Rowan kissed her properly then, long and slow until she was sure they were going to go for a third round in under twelve hours.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, fingers brushing her hair back from her face. Aelin wanted to snort in response, knowing last nights makeup was likely smeared around her eyes and she reeked of sex and sweat. But there was such reverence in his tone that she couldn’t bring herself to disagree, his green eyes bright in the morning sun as they traced over every feature of her face. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Her hand moved from his neck to the side of his face, thumb brushing lightly over the bruise that marred his skin.

“You saw me fight. You watched me beat the hell out of someone and you didn’t turn and run. You didn’t balk. You still wanted me.”

Aelin was positive the confusion was written all over her face from the downturn of her lips to her furrowed brow, but still she said, “Has that been a problem before?”

“Yes.” Rowan pressed a series of kisses over her face starting at her temple and ending at her jaw.

“It’s not a problem for me,” she promised, voice barely a whisper against his cheek. Rowan was quiet for a moment, turning his face to look at her. “You’re a fighter. That’s what you are. I wouldn’t want you to be anything but what you are.”

A mix of emotions fluttered across his face, whatever he felt being a catalyst for kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, nose, and finally her lips. When he pulled back, he looked hesitant and unsure. It was the first time Aelin had ever seen him like that and it felt raw. Like he was exposing a part of himself he seldom did. She was ready to ask him what was going on when he kissed her so thoroughly she’d nearly forgotten the conversation at hand.

“What if I wanted to be something else?” Rowan gazed down at her, teeth grazing over his bottom lip. Again, she swore she saw uncertainty on his face and in his tone as the question rushed out in a single breath.

“Like what?”

“Like your boyfriend.”

She couldn’t help the joyful laughter that bubbled up and out like champagne. Rowan grinned too, so widely that his dimples were deep in his cheeks. Her thumbs ran over them as she kissed him, both of their smiles making it almost difficult. It was too cute, the way he’d seemed almost nervous and bashful in his delivery. It felt like high school all over again in the most innocent way.

“You can be that, too.”

[thicccsimp]

The Lesson

Summary: Bucky helps coach you through a lesson in domination with Steve as your eager volunteer.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader & Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2,850

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Explicit Sexual Content. Dom/Sub Dynamics. Pet Names. Oral Sex (F Receiving). Oral Sex (M Receiving). Unprotected Vaginal Sex. Slight Possessiveness. Praise Kink. Cumshot.

A/N: This was based on a dream I had a while back that I just haven't been able to get out of my mind, so I've now put it to words for you all to hopefully enjoy! 

I’d also like to give a huge thank you to @providencia-journal for betaing this piece for me and giving me her much needed domme perspective so my subby ass could make sure this actually made sense. Any and all mistakes are completely my own. 

As always, I’d appreciate any feedback y’all would like to give me. Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog if you feel inclined to.

Tiny Tag Gang: @pepsicup @wakingbeauty @lifeofrileyp @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @tuiccim

You look down, mouth agape as you take in the sight of the Captain America, on his knees for you. This isn’t a situation you ever thought you’d find yourself in, you’ve always been submissive, you’ve always been the one taking orders, not giving them. 

“C’mon Kitten.. You can do this. Look at how badly he needs you.” Bucky's smooth, husky voice whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear. 

You look back over your shoulder at him, gnawing on your bottom lip nervously. His warm calloused hand comes to caress your cheek for a moment before turning your face back to Steve, still waiting in front of you with wide eager eyes, his cock standing at full attention, weeping precum as it twitches of its own accord. 

You take a deep breath before reaching out, grabbing a fist full of Steve’s hair and pulling his head to crane back, a needy whine comes spilling out of his lips and it’s so sinful in your ears it sends a shiver up and down your spine. “I’m going to need you to listen to my words very carefully Stevie.. I will not be repeating myself. Do you understand?” 

Steve nods as much as your grasp in his hair allows him, looking up at you with lustful hooded eyes. Bucky clears his throat, pulling your gaze to him, he gives you a subtle shake of his head before tapping on his ear. You knit your eyebrows together for a moment, trying to comprehend his silent directions when it clicks. You tighten your grip on Steve’s hair, your words come out stern with a hint of derision, “What was that? I can’t hear you.”

Steve groans, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, “Yes ma’am. I understand.” 

“That’s better. Now you’re going to lay down on your back on the floor, and I’m going to take that pretty little face of yours for a ride and I’m not going to stop until I’ve had enough. Now I want your hands behind your head, I wouldn’t want you tempted to touch yourself. After all, this is all about my pleasure. Not yours. Maybe if you do a good enough job, I might actually let you cum.” Your voice is smooth like velvet and shockingly firm, you almost don’t believe it’s really coming out of your own mouth. 

“Yes ma’am.” Steve manages to croak out, his voice dry and hoarse with need. He quickly lays down on his back, his hands laced behind his head obediently. You can't help but admire the way it makes the muscles in his arms ripple, you never had considered how sexy it would be to see such a strong powerful man, on the floor at your will, needy for your touch. You come to stand with a foot planted on both sides of his head, you bring yourself to straddle his face, your knees pressing firmly into his arms, pinning them roughly to the ground below, you watch as his eyes roll back slightly at the pressure. You suddenly press your core down hard against his face, grinding your pussy against his eager mouth. 

“Fuck.. Yes.. Just like that Stevie.” You praise as you feel his tongue needily lapping against your swollen bud, occasionally trailing down to delve as deep as he can into your entrance. 

Bucky comes around from behind you and plants himself firm in front of you, his cock obviously straining against his jeans. He stares down at you, his pupils nearly swallowing his beautiful blue irises whole as he drinks in the view of his girl taking her pleasure from his best friend's mouth because he told her to. He reaches to his belt, undoing it steadily before pulling his pants down just enough to release his cock from it’s confines. 

You eagerly lean forward, wanting to feel Bucky's hard cock in your mouth, as your weight shifts you feel your knees digging deeper into Steve’s arms. He lets out a moan from deep in his chest and you feel it vibrate against your clit, your eyelids flutter and your jaw slackens at the sensation. You reach a hand out to grab Bucky's cock, but he quickly side steps just out of your reach, you can’t help but let out a small whine of frustration. He tsks his tongue at you as he shakes his head, his warm hand coming up before he slowly starts to stroke himself as he watches you. “Sorry Kitten. No reward for you until you complete your lesson with Stevie.” 

You open your mouth to protest but Bucky cuts you off before your first word even hits your tongue by shoving in two of his cold vibranium fingers. “Ah ah. No attitude. Only a yes sir,” he firmly reminds you, “If you’re frustrated, take it out on him. Don’t forget your place with me.” You try desperately to keep your eyes on his as he speaks but you can’t help but let them fall on his cock as he languidly strokes himself. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and you fight the urge to roll your eyes before letting a meek “yes sir” fall from your lips. You cast your eyes down at Steve between your legs, still eating your pussy like a man starved, you can’t help but grab a fist full of his hair and grind down harder against his mouth while your other hand comes up to tweak your sensitive nipples. You begin to buck your hips roughly against Steve’s face, feeling your release grow closer with every desperate moan that comes flooding from his mouth. You feel the tension in your stomach tightening until it feels like it’s about to burst, “C’mon Stevie.. I’m so close.. I know you can do better,” you pant out. You feel his lips wrap around your aching bud once again and he starts harshly sucking, that’s just the little bit more you had needed. Your head falls back as your eyes flutter shut and moans come pouring from your lips; your eyes shoot back open when you feel a hand grasp your jaw firmly, angling your head up to meet his eyes. 

“Eyes on me when you cum,” Bucky commands, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth as he watches you come undone. You can’t help but to grind down a bit harder, prolonging your climax for as long as you can while you stare up into Bucky's eyes, the desire behind them nearly making your mouth water. After a moment when your heart stops pounding in your ears, Bucky releases your jaw and you finally rise from Steve’s face. He lets out a slight hiss as the pressure of your weight against his arms finally vanishes. You look down at him for a moment, admiring how flushed his face is and how your arousal glistens on his skin. His lustful eager eyes meet yours, and you just know he’s waiting for your next command. 

“Back on your knees,” you order, your voice steady and firm. Steve quickly pulls himself back up and onto his knees, his hands instinctively clasping together behind his back. You take a step closer towards him, reaching out your hand to lightly grab his chin, tilting his face up toward you as you run your thumb lightly over his lips. “Well since you did such a good job with this pretty little mouth of yours, I’m going to give you a reward Stevie. I’m going to fuck myself on your cock, while you kneel here and take it. Doesn’t that sound good, Stevie?” You coo at him, your core clenching around nothing when you see the way his eyes roll back at the praise and very thought of being inside you. You bring your eyes from Steve’s to Bucky’s for a moment, who is still standing off to the side a bit, lazily pleasuring himself to the scene unfolding before him, he gives you a small nod of approval before you drop your eyes back to Steve’s. 

“Yes ma’am, that sounds amazing. Thank you ma’am,” the words flow from his mouth obediently, the husky tone behind them indicating just how desperately he wants you. 

“Such a good boy, Stevie. So grateful for whatever I give you,” you praise him before giving him a light slap to his cheek, relishing in the moan that he lets out. You turn your back from him and drop down to your hands and knees, you back yourself up until you can feel his cock pressing against your entrance. You look over your shoulder at him, “Keep those hands behind your back, you better brace yourself and just take it,” you direct him before backing yourself fully onto his cock without further warning. Your walls flutter around him as you adjust to the new sensation of him inside you, Steve bites down on his bottom lip in response as he groans, his hands flexing in and out of fists behind his back. 

You begin to slowly rock back and forth, fucking yourself on his cock, being sure to take your time and feel every inch of him. You can hear Steve’s moans beginning to turn to whines, silently pleading with you to move faster. You cast your eyes over your shoulder once again, never ceasing the slow and steady rhythm of your hips rocking back into his, “What’s the matter Stevie? Do you want more?” You tease, slowing yourself even more, watching his face contort with a mixture of pleasure and restraint. 

“Yes ma’am.. Please. I need more. I need you to move faster,” his voice comes out strained and desperate as his hooded eyes stare longingly into your own. 

“Okay Stevie. Whatever my good boy needs, he’ll get. But you better not cum before I do, trust me you don’t want to test me on this,” you reply back soothingly, but your words gaining a sharp edge to them towards the end to punctuate how serious you are. Steve nods his head, eager to please and needy for more, without hesitation you begin slamming your hips back into his with reckless abandon. The pace you set is fast, deep, and unrelenting as you begin to lose yourself as you use his cock to chase your own release.

The sound of clothes rustling pulls your attention back to reality as you look up to see that Bucky has stripped down in front of you, stroking himself a bit more forcefully now. His signature smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he looks down at you with hunger obvious in his eyes. “You’re doing so well, Kitten. You almost have me wondering if this is really your first time domming someone like this,” he muses, as his eyes wander your body, watching you fuck yourself on Steve’s cock like he’s nothing more than a glorified sex toy. You shudder a bit at the praise, beginning to crave the domination that Bucky has forced you to dish out instead of receive, you open your mouth to respond only for Steve’s voice to cut you off. 

“Ma’am… Ma’am I’m going to… I’m going to cum s-soon,” he stutters out, his eyes squeezed shut right as he fights to hold his release back. You whip your head around to look back at him and nearly lose all your resolve when you see the sinful expression on his face, you bite down on your bottom lip for a moment to ground yourself before snapping your hips harshly to be pressed flush against his. 

“Then you better reach around and make sure I finish before you do,” you nearly growl out at him. You almost are shocked at the voice that came out of you, you’ve never heard yourself sound so demanding before, though you didn’t have too long to contemplate it before Steve’s arm wrapped under your hip. It took him no time at all to find your throbbing nub and begin to rub firm circles onto it with his slightly calloused thumb, you moan loudly as you throw your head back as the coil in your abdomen grows exponentially tighter, “Yes Stevie. Just like that.” 

You go to start gliding yourself on his cock again when you feel a firm, cool hand on your shoulder. Your eyes flutter open and you stare up at Bucky who’s planted firmly on his knees in front of you, his vibranium hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place with your hips flush to Steve’s, his perfect cock teasingly close to your face. Bucky reaches his other hand out and cups your chin, tilting your head up towards him, “Good job, Kitten. You finished your lesson. I think it’s time I give you your reward.” Bucky coos at you before bringing his attention to Steve, buried balls deep inside you but not moving a muscle, even his hurried circles on your clit have stopped as he now looks to Bucky for instruction as his chest rapidly rises and falls. 

“Hands back behind your back,” Bucky barks at Steve who immediately straightens up and clasps his hands behind his back once again. Bucky drops his eyes back to your face he’s still gently cradling in his hand, “Did you have fun trying to be like your Sir, Kitten? You really seemed like you were enjoying yourself. Almost a little too much… I just want to remind you, Kitten, you may own him, but I own you.” Bucky says, his voice thick with arousal and possessiveness. You feel yourself clench around Steve’s cock at Bucky’s words, and can feel Steve’s entire body shudder in reply, you open your mouth to answer him but Bucky quickly makes use of the opportunity and shoves his cock deep into your mouth. You can’t help but gag and sputter at the sudden intrusion into your throat as you try to adjust to the new sensation of being so full in two of your holes. “Shhh.. No need to say anything. It’s time for me to have my fun now,” Bucky hushes you before grabbing two fistfuls of hair on either side of your head. He begins to roughly guide you back and forth, your entire body rocking with the movement. Bucky sets a brutal pace, fucking you on both of their cocks as he moves your body back and forth effortlessly, treating you like a doll he can use as he pleases. 

Your eyes begin to water as you try to remind yourself to breathe through your nose, but the thought gets lost with every other jarring thrust from Bucky. Your knees start to ache as you’re bounced between the two men wildly but the pain only adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing through every inch of your body. Your walls begin to flutter around Steve as you feel yourself approaching the edge of ecstasy, your throat contracts and vibrates around Bucky as you moan, utterly blissed out from being so filled by the two super soldiers. It only takes a few more rough pumps from Bucky to send you toppling over the edge. You feel yourself clamp down around Steve as you give into the pleasure bursting all over your body, your moans come out like choked whimpers as Bucky continues to pound into your throat with no signs of slowing. Steve lets out a deep groan from inside his throat before choking out the words, “I-I’m.. I’m going to c-cum.”

“Pull out.” Bucky snarls at his friend, while continuing to chase his own release, “No one cums in her but me.” 

Steve obediently responds and pulls out of you completely, you let out another muffled cry at the sudden loss. You hear Steve mutter a few breathy curses before you feel his hot spend land in thick ropes across your lower back and the swell of your ass. Your vision starts to swim as you lose yourself in the overwhelming bliss that surges through your body like electricity. Bucky continues to fuck into your mouth wildly, his hips begin to falter a bit and you know he’s getting close. You moan out the best you can, encouraging him to finish, the vibrations are the last bit that help push him over into his own release. You feel his cock twitch in your throat as he lets out a primal moan and swears under his breath as you feel his hot cum coating your throat. He gives your mouth a few more sloppy pumps before pulling out from your mouth. 

You gasp for air as you also try to swallow down the last bits of his seed that threaten to leak from your mouth along with all your saliva. You look up at Bucky, your face covered in smeared makeup and tears, “Thank you Sir,” your voice is rough and raw but filled with pure infatuation.

Bucky stoops down beside you and holds your face gingerly in his hands as he admires your beautifully blissed out face, “Of course, Kitten. You earned it.”

[navybrat817]

Not Your Forever - Chapter 2

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader, Clark Kent/Reader

Word Count: 2,588

Summary: Steve Rogers made a choice…and it wasn’t you.

I can’t believe the positive reaction this received and I just had to continue. I feel like it won’t live up to expectations (haha), but I hope you enjoy!  This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own!  Please let me know if you’d like to be added (or removed) from tags!

The silence lasted a second. Then it stretched to another. And another. Your former lover's gaze was drawn to your engagement ring as he tried to find the words. It wasn't flashy or over the top, but the diamond seemed to glow under the sudden attention. 

"You're engaged?" Steve asked, his voice even in contrast to the storm in his eyes.

"I am," you said proudly. 

"How did this happen?"

"Well," Clark began. "We had a romantic dinner, I got down one knee and after-"

"I don't think that's what he meant, Clark," you interrupted, trying not to smile at his humor. 

"Sorry. My mistake."

The Captain's gaze was calculating as it swept over your fiance. "You're funny."

"Hope thinks I am."

"Hope?" Steve repeated in confusion.

"It's a nickname for me," you clarified. "It's...well, it's an inside joke."

The hurt look reappeared on the Captain's face. There was no denying the fondness in your tone or the tenderness in Clark's eyes. Maybe he thought you were both making a joke at his expense. Frankly, you weren't in the mood to ease his worries. 

"Congratulations," he breathed out. The single word sounded flat. 

"Thanks," you replied with a sigh. "Now will you please leave?"

"I still haven't had a chance to talk with you.”

The stubbornness used to be endearing, but it seemed entitled in the moment. "I have nothing to say else to say to you."

"Bruce was looking for you," Clark switched topics to cut the sudden tension, which only grew at his next words, "but...maybe you two should talk."

"Really?" you and your ex asked in sync.

"He came all this way...and I'm sure he has a very good reason as to why," your Kryptonian said easily. 

"Clark," you whispered. 

"I'll be right here," he whispered back.

You inhaled and exhaled slowly. Clark was not only understanding, but you knew he'd rush to your side if he had to. "I won't be long," you promised, kissing him softly. 

You saw the heartbroken look on Steve's face as you pulled away. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. You haven't heard what my fiance has to say."

"Why don't we step outside?" you suggested, motioning for Steve to follow before he could respond to Clark. You were surprised your legs didn’t wobble as you led him outside.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

Of course, he saw you shaking. "I'm fine, thanks."

Steve put his hands in his pockets, not taking his eyes off of you. "You really do look so beautiful."

"Please, say whatever the hell it is you need to say and go," you demanded. You weren't in the mood to beat around the bush. 

"Are you giving orders now? I thought that was my job," he teased. 

“And I see that people still follow yours. Seriously, you brought almost the whole gang with you?” you scoffed, not bothering to hide your annoyance. The nerve of all of them. "I know for a fact you weren’t invited and I don't appreciate any of you crashing this gala."

“They won’t cause a scene. They really did want to see you. They...said you never came back after that day.”

That was true. You left the chapter of your life behind and everyone in it. “Why would I? Steve, that was your team. “They were yours, too. Bucky was hurt when you left,” he argued gently. 

“Bucky barely knew me. I don’t get why that would hurt him,” you told him, wrinkling your nose in confusion.

The action brought a small smile to the Captain’s face before it quickly faded. “He hoped you two would bond since...”

“Since you left him behind, too,” you guessed, shaking your head when he had the gall to look guilty. Not guilty enough, in your opinion. “Three years.”

"Three years," he confirmed.

"That's...a long time. Maybe that isn't much to a man who spent 70 years in the ice, but it's a long time to those who matter. I guess in your case, those who don't matter."

 "You do matter. All of you. I'm so sorry. I thought my life at the time should have been with Peggy. I just...wanted a chance at the life I didn’t get to live."

You understood to an extent. He was the man out of time. He had his chance ripped away from him when he went into the ice. His decision, but you weren’t going to bring that up. “What happened? Missed the food here? The internet?”

Steve frowned at your sarcasm.  “At first, it was fine. I finally got that dance,” he started, gauging your reaction. If you felt any kind of hurt from that, you didn’t let it show. “We were...happy it seemed. We thought it would be enough."

You turned your head toward the sky. The beauty of it soothed you. "Is anything ever enough for you? I wasn't enough, so you left. Now she wasn't enough, so you left. Where will you go next? The future?"

"Will you at least look at me if you're going to insult me?" he joked just a bit.

"I don't owe you a thing, Rogers, but I guess I can do that," you snapped as you faced him, trying your hardest to not show how vulnerable you felt. 

"No, you don't owe me a thing," he agreed, which surprised you. "Peggy and I should have sensed from the start that we both changed. The things I knew and saw here ate away at me. Knowing what I did and having to sit back and not do a thing to stop it...That isn't me."

You nodded in agreement. You had wondered the same. How could Steve go back knowing that Bucky would be tortured and used by Hydra? How could he go about life knowing that the very organization Peggy and Howard built would be infiltrated by that same group? How could he sleep easy knowing Tony's parents would be murdered by his brainwashed best friend?

"I had nightmares. You might remember how I used to get those," he continued as you nodded once again. You always soothed him on those nights when he looked so afraid and alone. "It wasn't just the battles I dreamt about...It was about you."

You snorted as you crossed your arms. It wasn't a mature response, but you didn't have the words and you didn't believe him.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. I said your name in my sleep. I woke up reaching for you. Peggy heard it and asked who you were. I told her everything. How we were together...and how I left you," he went on, making your heart clench. You didn't want to think about it. "She was furious for what I did to you."

Angry tears filled your eyes. "So because SHE made you feel guilty you came back? Jesus Christ."

"No! God, this is all wrong," Steve mumbled, turning away to collect himself before he turned back to you. "We had our dance and that's all it should have been. She knew that I loved you and never stopped. I love you. I don't have a right to show up after three years and ask for another chance, but...I'm still asking. Please."

There was an optimistic smile on his face. That smile was one he reserved for you after restless days and endless nights. For a fleeting moment, you were swept up in a nostalgic feeling. You could almost pretend that things were the way they used to be. In the blink of an eye, the fog was lifted and you saw what was right in front of you. He was your past.

"You don't get to do this to me," you whispered angrily. "You broke my heart."

"I would never hurt you again. I regret so many things. What I did to you...God, losing you..."

"You didn't lose me," you said quickly.

"What?"

"You didn't lose me. You gave up on me. There's a huge difference. For the record, I lost you. I lost a chance at a future with you. I lost…everything," your voice breaking on the last word as a tear finally fell. 

"Darling…I made a mistake,” he pleaded, reaching to wipe the tear away as you stepped back. “It wasn’t a mistake! It was a CHOICE! You CHOSE to leave me behind.”

“I’m so sorry,” he swore, his eyes glassy as he looked at you.

“You know what I did? I made a choice, too. I chose to pick myself up and find my strength. I chose to make a new life for myself. I chose to move on, like you always said people should do.”

“I-�� “You said that day that you knew I’d be happy. You were right...because I am happy. I have a great life and a strong partner by my side. He's kind and loving and...he would never give up on me."

You were pouring salt on the open wound at this point, but he had to feel it. He had to know that you weren't broken. 

“You really love him?” he asked in a small voice. 

“I do,” you smiled softly, but confidently. It amazed you that you fell in love again, but you did. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him.”

He took your hand and ran his thumb along your finger, close to your ring. "This should be my ring on your finger. It should have always been."

You snatched your hand away like he burned you. He had no right to touch you. "And it shouldn't have taken you three years to realize you made the wrong choice. There's either more to it or you really just a man out of time."

"I love you!"

"Those are just words! If you truly love me or have even a shred of respect for me, you will get the hell out of my life. Now."

"I'm not giving up on you," he declared. 

"You gave up on me long ago. Goodbye, Steve," you said firmly, walking back inside before he could stop you. He was right on your heels, which only made you walk faster. Fury must have shown in your eyes because people moved out of your way. You just wanted to find Clark. 

"You may love him, but do you still love me?"

You stopped and spun around, making Steve nearly collide with you. He actually had the balls to ask you that?! "Just leave!"

"Oh, my god! It's Captain America!" 

Your anger nearly disappeared when Dick slid between you and Steve. 

"Um…” the blonde was thrown off momentarily. “Yes. Please, excuse me."

“Wow. Look at us. A couple of handsome men,” he smiled charmingly as he moved beside Steve and threw his arm over Steve’s shoulders.

You had to cover your mouth to smother your giggles. Ever the performer, he must have stopped your fiance from interfering for now.

"I really need to finish talking to-" 

"Before you go back to whatever it is you were doing, let me introduce myself. I'm Richard Grayson, but everyone calls me Dick. I'm Bruce Wayne's son. Allow me to point out a few people here. My brothers! We have Jason, Tim and Damian. Oh, and Tim even brought a friend with him. Conner," he explained, gesturing to each of them with his free hand.

You saw Steve's eyes sweep the room quickly. Jason, the man with a shocking streak of white hair, was glaring daggers at Bucky. Tim, whose gaze was more calculating than his own, and Conner, who looked a lot like Clark, were keeping an eye on Sam and Wanda. Damian, who carried himself with pride, looked as unimpressed with Natasha as she did being there. And judging by the looks on their faces, they knew they were being watched. 

"As a soldier and a strategist, I'm sure you picked up quickly that they're in close proximity to your friends. They're good. I'll give them that...but so are we."

You gave Dick a warning look. You knew how Bruce felt about their identities. It was a miracle that you knew.

"Brucie really wouldn't appreciate it if a fight broke out and we'd probably get our asses chewed out to save face, but it would be worth it. You see, we all have a soft spot for your ex here. Including Diana over there. Isn't she gorgeous?" Dick continued. "She could probably snap your neck with her thighs. And...you've already met Clark."

Steve's mouth was set in a grim line as Clark walked back to your side and slid his arm around your waist. "There's no need for a fight."

"You're absolutely right. We don't want a fight, but you were asked to leave. And as you can see, a lot of people are on Hope's side."

"Leave. Now."

Your eyes widened as Bruce stood behind Steve, who didn't bother to turn around. It was dangerously close to his Batman voice. 

"Nice meeting you, Cap!" Dick grinned, giving him a salute and you a wink as he blended back into the crowd.

"This isn't over," Steve told you. 

"Yes, it is. Now go."

Thankfully, he walked away. He must have alerted the others because you saw them head toward the exit. Bucky looked torn as he made eye contact with you, but he ultimately followed his best friend out. Tears filled your eyes again before you could stop them. It was overwhelming. The memories. The attention. You felt like you couldn’t breathe for a second.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't ever apologize for their actions," Bruce said with more kindness than most people realized he was capable of. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to speak to my eldest about tact. And I think you two could use some air."

Clark nodded to his friend and quickly took you outside, making sure no one stopped or bothered you. He pulled you close just as you burst into tears. "Just let it out. I'm here."

"Who the hell does he think he is?!" you sobbed as he rubbed your back. 

You thought you were done shedding tears over Steve Rogers. It wasn't right that he strolled back into your life and reopened old wounds. It wasn't fair that he asked for another chance. You were happy now. 

"Better?" you heard when your cries turned to sniffles.

"Better. I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey. What did Bruce just tell you?" he asked, pulling away so he could wipe away the stray tears with his thumbs. "Don't apologize for his actions. Ever. He made his choice. And if you're apologizing for crying, don't do that either. You're allowed to feel how you feel."

"I don't deserve you," you muttered as he smiled. 

"If anything, I don't deserve you."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. More than anything."

You leaned back into him with a smile. Clark was one of the best men you knew. In another life, he probably would have been friends with someone like Steve. That wasn't this life though. And the Captain was no longer in yours.

*****

Steve looked up at the sky, as if that could solve his problems. It wasn't supposed to happen that way. He waited too long. He let you fall into someone else's arms. And you basically had an army behind you now. 

"Giving up, Rogers?" Natasha asked.

"No...I'll just have to come up with a new plan."

[yikesharringrove]

Agitation (or disturbance of the mind)

Here is my piece for the Harringrove Big Bang!! I’m so so proud of how this piece turned out and I’m so excited to share it! @harringrovebigbang

Read on Ao3 (highly recommended. It’s over 16k).

Special thanks to my beta readers @thinger-strang @crispysteve without whom this story would’ve been scrapped in many fits of emotions.

Art for this story to be linked soon by @thedogsled

Check out this amazing moodboard by @memes-saved-me !!

Enjoy!

-

Steve Harrington is a liar. 

He always has been. 

Nearly everything about him is a perfectly crafted facade. 

From the story of his family’s move to Hawkins when he was eight, to the smile that slides easily onto his face when he tells Robin I’m fine. 

Steve is a liar. 

But it's all out of necessity. All for the greater of some good he isn’t all that clear on anymore. 

It was always about protection. 

Protecting his friends and everyone in Hawkins from the truth about Hawkins National Laboratory. 

Then it was about protecting himself from his powers. 

From the way his words had a knack of worming their way into someone’s brain. Of setting up shop inside and clanging around until they could do nothing but bow to his suggestion. 

Just because he could get his way with the right inflection and the telltale shiver down his spine, didn’t mean that that was okay. 

It was drilled into him the first night he arrived in Hawkins. 

After his file was stamped with a large red mark that read defective, he was given to one of the scientists and her husband. 

The Harringtons. 

A normal new family from Eastern Oklahoma. 

That’s what they told everyone. 

That’s what they made sure Steve parroted to everyone in his brand new school. 

His new father took a cigar to the tattoo on his wrist, welting the flesh with an ugly burn. He ignored Steve’s screams and tears. 

You have to fit in here, Steven, he had said, the cigar smoldering between his fingers, Steve clutching his wrist, eyes shining with tears. You have to fit in and be normal. 

So Steve lied. 

He smiled and told everyone he came from a normal family from normal Oklahoma. He said that he lived in a normal house, and read normal books, and played normal sports. 

And he tried, and failed, to convince himself the lab was a dream.

-

“We should do something after this.”

Steve was careful to keep his voice casual. He didn’t want to let Robin in on how much he was dreading returning to his empty house tonight. 

Robin didn’t acknowledge him. She was sorting the returned movies, placing them in piles of genre so they could easily be returned to their proper section. 

Steve quietly lifted his leg, and lightly kicked her hip. 

She glared at him. 

“Quit ignorin’ me. Just say yes, or no.” It’s not like if she said no it would crush him or anything. No. It’s fine. 

“I just have a bunch of homework that’s all, like, due tomorrow,” she said it slowly, as though telling him a beloved relative had died. 

Was it that obvious how lonely he is?

“Don’t worry about it, Buck.” Robin took school real serious. She had perfect grades every year and had already applied to sixteen colleges and universities, including four Ivy League options. 

So Steve didn’t blame her for not skulking around with him. 

With college-less, nowhere bound Steve. 

“I’m really sorry,” she began, getting that sad look in her eye like that night in the mall bathroom when Steve spilled his drugged-out guts. Literally, and metaphorically. 

“Nah, I was just lookin’ for something to do. It’s okay, Robin. Really.”

And it was. 

Almost. 

It’s just that, Steve’s not got a lot going for him right now. 

He’s got a big empty house, and a brain that likes to give him excessive nightmares, and one age-appropriate friend in the whole place. 

But he doesn’t wanna talk about all that shit. 

And Robin looked like there was something on the tip of her tongue. Something her teeth were barely holding back. 

So Steve just scooped up the stack of neatly ordered Action films, and made his way over to the far shelf, taking himself out of the situation before it would get to a place that would only make him lie more and more. 

Robin means well. He knows she does. 

It just feels like a lot of her well-meaning chats end up with Steve lying through his fucking teeth and Robin nearly in tears of frustration at his lack of openness with her. 

She feels like being tortured and drugged together gives them a close kind of kinship very few share. 

Steve feels like he’s got just too much fucked-up baggage to dump on her. 

Not when they’re trying to put the Upside Down behind them. 

Not that Steve could ever put it behind him. 

He felt something build in his gut. Something hot and heavy. Something that always meant his powers were scraping at the walls of the neat little cave he had shut them in. Something that meant his skin would burn until he unleashed some of his pent-up energy. 

He took a deep breath, blowing out the air slowly through his nose. 

He had rules to his power. Rules he had given himself, mostly. Things he’d never use his powers for. 

He tried to avoid his powers at all costs, but he had seen what could happen if he tried to tamp them down. It was less dangerous to open the lid of the box just a tiny bit. 

Especially if he did it right. 

He made his way back over to Robin, finding that spot in his brain that made a shudder zip down his spine. The spot that was made of cold and electric heat. 

It was always too simple when he let the power take over. 

Locate her feeling. Let him consume him. 

And then just, twist it as much as he wants. 

“Robin,” he spoke slowly, honing his suggestion. “You don’t have to feel bad about not spending time with me tonight.”

He felt her sadness and guilt about the evening recede about as fast as the tide. 

She really shouldn’t feel bad about ditching him, especially not when her education is the main priority. 

He matched her lazy grin, wiping his nose discreetly, only a small drop of blood smeared against his hand. 

The rest of the shift passed without incident, and the roaring feeling in Steve’s gut had been sated enough for the time being. 

So he pushed it back out of his mind, and returned to his empty house. 

He was saving up to get his own place. He really was. But it was easier this way. He didn’t pay any bills, had lots of space to himself, and a pool in the backyard (that he never used). 

And it’s hard for him to explain, but there’s something tugging him back into this house all the time. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s the only home he ever knew after the pain and fear that was his childhood in the lab, or if it’s something else that makes him feel tethered to the too-big house. 

Sometimes he thought there was a sense of safety in the old place. 

With parents that spent excessive amounts of time doing research for things he didn’t understand but was sure were important, it was largely an emotion-free place. 

Which was good for Steve. 

High emotion situations made his power boil up and spill over the edge like a pot of water on the stove. 

A place like his empty house, he could keep everything in check. Not get his feelings tangled with those around him. Not catch thoughts that were just beginning to be molded into something brand new. 

He clambered into bed, punching his pillows around in a way that was decidedly not petulant. 

There was a steady silence in the old house. A silence that was as depressing as it was easy on his brain. 

And there wasn’t silence. 

Creaks. 

Creaks issuing from downstairs. From the floorboards in the hallway. 

Footsteps. 

Steve was out of bed in a second, bat held aloft in as close to ready position as he could maintain while bolting down the stairs in his socks and faded green gym shorts. 

He knew how to navigate the house without a sound. Practice of tip-toeing around a volatile not-father kinda ended up giving him something useful. 

The creaks were still progressing, moving up the hallway from the back of the house, where his parents’ empty bedroom sat still. 

The person was getting closer, lumbering slowly as if they were trying to be quiet themselves. 

Steve adjusted his grip on the bat, taking proper batting stance, ready for the intruder to round the corner into his section of the hall. 

First sign of a person, and Steve would swing. 

No questions asked. 

The floorboard before the bend in the hall gave a loud sound, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone curse under their breath. 

He closed his eyes, and swung. 

His bat sailed through the air, and connected with, not an intruder. 

And then he was filled with an overwhelming sense of fear. A completely feral state of fight or flight made him nearly bare his teeth in an animalistic growl. He felt fear, and dread, and pure stubborn, stupid resolve. 

It nearly blinded him, the emotions were so thick and clear. 

And then there whooshed out of him, as though being sucked up by a feelings vacuum, leaving him empty and confused. 

His top lip was covered in blood. 

He had a lot of fucking questions as he stared at the bat, hanging by it’s long nails in the hallway wall, the ominous creaking moving past him towards the stairs. 

The footsteps that were caused by no one. 

It’s official. 

Steve’s lost it. 

He’s fucking crazy. 

He’s hearing footsteps and voices swearing quietly, and he’s going mad and completely batshit and should be tucked away in a padded room for the rest of his life. 

He didn’t even bother to wrench the bat out of the wall as he stumbled after the imagined footsteps. 

He clearly needed to get a good night’s sleep, and to forget that anything happened at all tonight. 

-

Billy hates Harrington’s house. 

He doesn’t, really. It’s given him excellent shelter while he pulled himself together, and it’s out of town enough to serve as a good base for the little gang of Lost Boys he had accumulated. 

It’s just that, the old house likes to make a lot of noise. 

It keeps him on edge. 

Every squealing door hinge, and every creaky floorboard sets his teeth on edge and makes him whip around in a frenzy, expecting to see a demogorgon snarling at him from the sitting room. 

He nearly had a heart attack when he heard the thuds coming from upstairs. 

He generally liked to avoid the top floor of the house. 

Harrington’s bedroom was up there, and it wigged him out something fierce. He’d only been in the dilapidated version of it one time, his first night in the house he had claimed for safety. 

He didn’t intend to stay the night in there, he had just stumbled upon it, and curled up in the bed. 

He remembers not sleeping the entire night. He was so scared after coming to in the library, something slimy and disgusting slipping its way out of his throat. 

The whole place had been screaming, as though the Upside Down itself was alive. Alive and being horrifically murdered. 

He didn’t know what it was called then, all he knew was that Harrington’s house was the first one he came across, and that Harrington’s room was depressingly empty and impersonal. 

But, there was a thudding coming from that general area, and if some kinda shitty creature was making its way into the house, he needed to hedge it off before it did any damage. 

He took hold of his ax, never far from his side these days, and slipped out of his cot. 

The floorboards in the hallway were creaky, and he tried to walk slowly, muffling his footsteps as much as he could in his heavy boots, not wanting to warn the monster he was coming for it. 

He cataloged the crew in his head: Hopper had his troop of three in the basement where they were resting up for the supply run tomorrow. Timothy was on nightwatch with his team of five. Billy was in a pack with four others; Heather Holloway, her mother, Janet, and the two boys they found skulking around the library the same night everyone seemed to wake up. One of the boys was called Andrew. The other hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time they’d been trapped. 

Billy liked to call him by different names each time he referred to the kid. Trying to get him to laugh. He couldn’t’ve been more than seven years old, and he was trapped in this fucking hellscape with the rest of them. 

Andrew was thirteen. Billy didn’t like to look at him much. Andrew reminded him of Max. Which made Billy feel empty and achy in a way he didn’t think was very productive for survival.

But Andrew took a shine to Janet Holloway. Probably missing his mother and needing more comfort than his thirteen-year-old self was willing to admit.

The Holloway women were a hell of a lot feistier than Bill originally gave them credit for, saving his ass in a scrap just as often as he had been there for theirs. Heather and Janet were equal parts caring and soft, with the right amounts of clever and bossy to take point on their team. 

Billy let himself be the muscle. 

He let himself be the watchdog and attack dog. He took nightwatches and never let his weapons out of his grasp.

Everyone had a role. 

And that was perfectly okay.

They had to keep together in this world. They wouldn’t survive it otherwise. 

They’d all lost enough people to understand that. 

One of the boards gave a hefty creak under his left foot, and he breathed a quiet fuck through his bandana, listening for more of the thudding. 

It had stopped about forty seconds before, Billy had counted, and he couldn’t hear any other sounds of something forcing its way inside. Plus, the nightwatch hadn’t sounded any alarms. 

He took another step, ax held ready and aloft in case he came face to ugly face with one of the horrible creatures that prowled the night. 

He rounded the corner, and there was a loud bang on the wall next to his head. 

He jumped as paint chipped off the wall and flew all over him. 

He was hit with a feeling of intense fear, and adrenaline rush that caused all the blood in his ears to rush. He looked wildly around, seeing, nothing. 

Billy bared his teeth, ready to go down fucking swinging. 

As long as he took the fucker down with him, that’s all that matters. 

Save the rest. 

And he stood, ready to fight, ready to die. 

And there was nothing.

Nothing in the hallway. He was all alone. 

None of this shit made any sense. He hadn’t dreamed the wall cracked beside his head, and looking back, there were holes in the wall, and a big dent that had splinted the white paint and drywall beneath it. 

There was some fucked up shit going on, and Billy didn’t like it one bit. 

He continued down the hall, creeping to the stairs to check the original source of the noises that had woken him up. 

Harrington’s room was pretty much just as he remembered it from that first night in the house. 

It was sparse and sad-looking. The covers on the bed were all jostled and thrown around, the horrible spindle-like vines covering nearly every surface in the room. 

They had cleared the tendrils in other rooms, cutting them and burning them back, ensuring the vines didn’t start creeping over them when they weren’t looking. 

Billy didn’t fancy being covered and tethered by the slimy black vines. He was pretty much over all this Upside Down shit. 

He took a cursory look around Harrington’s room, not noticing any signs of forced entry from a creature, really nothing was out of place. 

The meager school trophies on the bookshelf next to the closet looked rotted and tarnished, just like everything else in this absolute hell called a parallel universe. There were few pictures in this room, much like the whole house. It had taken Billy a long time to notice the lack of inhabitancy the house had. The way it seemed to feel so cold and empty, it would be that way in the real world too. 

His eyes swept over the dilapidated dresser, cataloging the room quickly for anything that should worry him. 

Billy deemed the whole scene safe, and made sure to close the door tightly as he retreated back downstairs. 

-

Steve’s going fucking crazy. 

He was still in bed, his alarm clock ringing angrily at him as it had for the past six minutes. 

He hadn’t slept at all last night. 

Something just felt. Off. 

The feelings in his chest were scrambled, and they felt foreign to him. Like he had taken in somebody else’s emotions. 

But proximity was the key to his power, and he was alone. Alone alone. 

Like, the closest person was Mrs. Gardfeld in the next house, all the way across their combined, much too big, yards. 

It felt like. It felt like someone was in the house with him. Someone was in the house with him, and they were scared, and stubborn, and tired, and a flurry of things that made Steve feel ill. 

And he couldn’t push them out. 

He couldn’t find the chasm between this slew of someone else’s shit, and his own messy cocktail of feelings. 

The other feelings were like those awful vines in the tunnel. Snaking around under his feet, wiggling up his ankles and keeping him stuck in the mud. Wrapping around his own emotions and squeezing until they just merged into one. 

He’s lost the metaphor. 

Doesn’t matter. 

His feelings are fucked and his brain is fucked and his day is fucked. 

And he has to work a double at Family Fuckin’ Video. 

He found his way out of bed. Not going very far, just standing next to his warm nest of blankets, debating getting back in and hiding for the rest of his life. 

He was going to be late for work. 

He didn’t really give a fuck. 

Keith would be all smug and probably make some remarks about Steve not even being worth the less-than-minimum wage he was making. 

He took a shower, not so much cleaning himself as letting the lukewarm water cascade down on him and hope it got rid of the stench of sweat and anxiety and bad sleep that was clinging angrily to his skin. 

His brain was empty. 

Empty save for the pounding otherness that were these horrible fucking feelings. 

Robin didn’t even have the heart to call him out for being nearly half an hour late.

“You look like shit.”

No, she just called him out for looking like shit. 

“Y’know, it’s really wonderful to have such a caring and thoughtful friend in these trying times.”

She rolled her eyes. He always told her one day she was gonna get stuck like that. With her eyes permanently fixed towards the ceiling in exasperation. 

“Drop the attitude, Steve Harrington. Just because you didn’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to suffer.” 

Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was joking. Steve just clenched his jaw and stared at her blankly. Either she would get mad at him, or sigh and roll her eyes. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

Bingo. 

She wasn’t actually mad at him. 

“You okay?”

“Jus’, some weirdness. Bad vibes.”

He couldn’t give her more than that. Couldn’t say I can feel someone else in my house and I don’t know if someone is hiding in my house or if I’m going crazy, oh and by the way, I was one of those freaky lab kids and I can manipulate and feel people’s thoughts and emotions, by the way.

That’s too much for a slow shift on a Saturday morning. 

That’s too much for really any time of any day.

No, Steve fully plans to take all that shit to the grave. Like a real man, his dad would say. 

“Well, if you could take your bad vibes back to rewind duty, that would leave all the good vibes up here to me.” She shooed him off with her hand, landing a quick slap square on his left asscheck when he groaned and dragged his feet dramatically on his way to the back room. 

Not that Steve would ever actually complain about rewind duty. Steve preferred doing it to anything else in the place. Especially re-shelving. That was just asking for someone to come ask him for a movie recommendation. Steve only watched the same five campy old westerns and when he recommends any of those, people seem to wanna get out of his face right quick. 

No, rewinding was dull and monotonous and solitary, all the shit that Steve really needed on a day like today. 

There was a strict routine and he didn’t have to think or do anything. 

Just sit. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. Put in re-shelve bucket. New tape. Rewind. Put in case. And again and again and again until all the tapes were ready to go. 

Hawkins tended to take out a lot of movies on the weekend. Not much else to do when you aren’t sixteen and ready to hit up any party you could possibly weasel your way into. 

So, Steve had about fifty some odd tapes to rewind from the past few days and he was feeling benignly excited about sitting in the small room for most of his shift. 

It was easy to pass the shift like that. 

Sitting with the quiet whirring of the tapes being tracked back to the beginning. Not having to deal with anyone’s thoughts except his own tedious ones about when he should take his lunch break and reminding himself to check the TV Guide for anything good tonight. 

It was an odd emptiness that took hold of him throughout the day. And he almost felt, well. 

Lonely. 

He almost felt lonely. 

Which is fucking bonkers because that horrible feeling of someone else had well and truly fucked him over last night, and well into this morning, but he kind. Missed. The other presence. 

He’s officially crazy. 

Someone find this boy a padded fucking cell because Steve Harrington has officially gone all kinds of batshit bananas wacky. 

He’s feeling lonely because the horrible not his feelings of fear and anger and betrayal and desperation aren’t clogging up his little brain sink. Even when they were, the brain sink was threatening to burst and leak all over his brain kitchen. 

Or something to that effect. 

He let his eyes unfocus, watching Jaws at double speed and backward for the fourth time that day. 

There was something about the foreign feelings he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

Something twinging in the back of his brain, screaming at him to open his eyes and pay attention. 

But that’s never been Steve’s strong suit. 

-

“Stupid. Fucking. Vines .”

Hopper muttered to himself a lot. 

It was usually too muffled underneath his own bandana face covering and the hefty beard he had been sporting to discern whatever he was thinking, but it’s not like hating the awful black tendrils of gross plant/monster/everything-that-made-up-the-Upside-Down hybrid of vine-ish tentacles was something that just Hopper experienced. 

It was a sentiment they all shared as they hacked away at the new growth in the dilapidated Bradley’s Big Buys. 

They had already ransacked the general store five times over, and took as much as they could salvage from the wreckage of the other-dimensional mall. 

Supplies were needed, and they had to be smart about it. 

Things had been quiet lately. 

Not many beasties out and about since the night they all seemed to come to. 

Hopper had said something about the gate closing and the brain being cut off from the body. 

Billy hadn’t listened. 

He’d been scared off his ass and all that had really registered was clear for now. 

So, they made supply runs. And poked around town for any survivors left to take back to Basecamp Harrington. Only Billy called it that. 

They had the runs down to a system. 

Pry away any vines they could, burning them back as they went, making enough room to slip into the bargain store, gather as much canned food and grimy medical supplies as they could manage, and book it back to the relative safety of the big house on the edge of the forest. 

Nobody talked about what they’d do when they ran out of supplies. When they’d exhausted their resources and were stuck with nothing but the vines on the ground and the spores in the air. 

Billy got it. 

It’s not like he wants to hear he’ll probably die of starvation and/or a gangrenous infection before he’s eighteen. 

They just. Make do. 

Ration food and keep each other safe. 

Always thinking about the minute they’re in and the minute coming up. Not looking too far forward. 

There’s nothing to see too far in the future. 

Billy crashed the blunt end of his ax through the sliding door at the front of the store, clearing away as much as he could. 

Janet and Andrew would slip inside first go, taking as much as they could carry with them. Next round, Heather would take the little one and gather anything left. 

Billy would keep watch. 

He always kept watch. 

Things had been too good for too long. 

After the first wave of those who didn’t make it, the whole broken side of the Earth was too kind to them. Not sending horrible fleshy monsters to nearly suck out their very souls. 

Billy didn’t think this could last for much longer. 

Heather took the little one by the hand, rushing past her mother and Andrew as they returned with their supplies. Billy did a quick scan of them, noting no new injuries. Nothing out of the norm. 

Supply runs were choreographed down to the minute. 

Should the group not return in forty-five minutes, a search team was sent out. 

The small group trudged back to the Harrington safehouse, keeping in the shadows, not a single one of them daring to speak. Billy walked slightly behind the others, never letting himself relax for a single second. 

Things were too quiet.

-

The feeling hit Steve over the head like a sack of bricks being whacked against his skull. 

Walking into his home was like walking into a stinking den of fear and anxiety. The air was clogged with so many emotions Steve felt like he was choking on them, slowly being crushed under their weight. 

Whoever was emitting all these, Steve felt sorry for them. He can’t imagine living with this much bad energy taking up space in someone’s brain. He could barely cope with his own terrible bullshit. He doesn’t know how someone could cope with this. 

He tried to move through his evening to the best of his ability. 

He nearly set the house on fire when he left the tin foil covering on his frozen meal, causing the microwave to spark angrily at him, the potatoes underneath the corner of foil that had nearly caught fire to smolder and blacken. 

Even in the shower, the water as hot and steamy as he could stand, he felt that prickle he couldn’t get rid of. 

Like if he could just close his eyes and reach out far enough, his fingers would brush someone else. Someone nearby. 

He’s felt it before. That there was a person just out of reach. A person he could feel clear as a bell, but couldn’t alter. Couldn’t manipulate. Just had to experience everything that was going on inside and try to hold on for the ride. 

He wore headphones to bed, blasting a mixtape Robin had made for him last month. Something with a lot of heavy guitars and girls wailing about society. 

He doesn’t think it was all that good, but it helped. Helped him feel like maybe the person wasn’t seeping into his own soul. 

And the whining synth of Patti Smith finally let him get some goddamn sleep. 

  “Hello?”

It was his house. 

But it wasn’t his house. 

It was a blank void. It was nothing. It was nowhere. 

But for some reason, his brain kept telling him it was his house. 

“Harrington?”

It was Billy. Hargrove. 

But it wasn’t Billy. 

He was dirty, covered in soot and horrible black sludge that made Steve’s stomach churn. 

“Why are you in my house?”

Billy looked around the blank void all around them. Water sloshed on the floor, lapping at Billy’s black boots. Steve observed his own toes. 

He was barefoot, but he couldn’t feel the water. 

“This is your house?”

Steve didn’t want to explain. 

“You’re dead.”

“Could be soon.”

Nothing Billy said made any sense. But then, Billy never made much sense when he was alive, either. 

He was an enigma to Steve. A big question mark all wrapped up with a gorgeous face and perfect body.

“Where is this to you?”

Why was Steve’s brain so adamant on declaring this place his house?

“Somewhere safe.”

-

So. 

That’s something. 

Dreaming about Harrington. 

Not necessarily something that Billy wanted to have happen to him while he was experiencing the worst possible time in his life. 

Or maybe he did. 

He’d said it in the dream. 

Somewhere safe. 

It’s what he felt in that blackness. 

Safety. Warmth. Hope. 

All the shit he hasn’t felt since he opened his eyes in the rank-ass library. 

That darkness was like a harness, keeping him grounded to something real. Tucking him in gently at night and kissing him on the head. 

It made waking up that much shittier. 

Knowing he’d be on nightwatch with Heather and Janet tonight, he used resting up as an excuse to lay on his cot, hardly moving in the clouded air. 

He needed to process. 

There was something so fucking weird about that dream. 

It felt real in the moment, and he didn’t question anything that had happened. 

Why there was water on the ground at his feet? Why Harrington was there wearing pajamas Billy could only describe as skanky? All of this made perfect fucking sense to dream Billy. 

Awake Billy, had some fuckin’ questions. 

Mostly, those previously listed. As well as: what the fuck?

He blames seeing Steve specifically on being in his house. That makes sense. You tend to think about a guy quite a lot when you’re living in the broken shell of his family home. He blames seeing Steve in those itsy-bitsy shorts and a homemade cropped t-shirt on the well repressed sexual interest he refused to admit he felt towards the guy. 

All that made sense. 

But everything else. 

Steve said he was dead. 

Was he dead?

Was this Hell?

Purgatory?

He’s read The Divine Comedy, and this doesn’t quite match up with any of the shit Dante waxed on about. 

And dream Billy didn’t think that was a weird thing to say to someone. To accuse them of being dead. He just said could be soon and then acted like that was a normal fucking response. 

His head was spinning out of control. 

The only thing that made sense was when Billy said they were somewhere safe. 

Because, they were. 

Even in the void place, he knew they were safe. 

There was a small tapping sound on the wall next to the open door frame. 

The door had long since rotted right through. 

“Miss Janet sent me to see if you’re alright.”

Andrew was always calling Janet Holloway Miss Janet. 

It makes Billy wonder if manners like that were beaten into him by a father like Neil. 

He hopes not. 

He likes Andrew too much for that. 

Andrew hovered around while Billy swung himself out of his cot. 

He changed out the bandana over his mouth and nose. 

Most of them slept fully dressed, even with their shoes and socks still firmly on their feet. 

You had to be ready to go at the slightest sound of Bad in this place. 

Plus, everything was so goddamn dirty, what’s a little mud in the sheets in the grand scheme of things? And the rancid rotting smell of the Upside Down did wonders to cover the smell of body odor.

Billy followed Andrew down the L-shaped hallway, to the sitting room where he found Janet and Heather huddled together on one couch, the little one between them. 

“Apparently something happened on the run last night.” 

Billy’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t make out Janet’s expression under her face covering. The little one got up from his spot on the couch, standing in Billy’s shadow. He liked to do that. Billy figured he felt safe behind someone so much bigger and stronger than him. Someone with a big fuckin’ weapon that was never too far away. 

“Who’d we lose?”

“No one. Everyone’s okay. Hopper just called all of us for a discussion, then went to the basement.”

The basement was Hopper’s domain with his little chunk of the crew. 

He had found some busted up H.A.M. radio from somewhere he refused to explain, and spent all the time he wasn’t watching over his shoulder for threats or gathering supplies from smashed grocery stores, trying to fix it up, tuning it to different crackling stations, and yelling into it. 

El. El, I need you to copy if you can hear me. El!

-

The pillow was a mess of blood the next morning. 

It was congealed and cracked and tacky against his face and made the pillowcase stick to his cheek and his bloody upper lip in a way that kinda made Steve wanna puke a little bit. 

His nose had bled in the night. 

He never got nosebleeds. 

Unless he used his power. 

And that dream. 

That blank void space and that mucky scraggly Billy lookin’ like the hunky star of some apocalypse movie.

Wait.

Blood forgotten, smeared on his face and neck, Steve tossed himself towards the phone on his nightstand, smacking his shoulder against the wooden corner and tumbling to the floor, his legs still tangled in his sheets on the bed. 

He couldn’t deal with anything, snatching the phone up and punching in the only number that was grinding through his head. 

“ Pick up pick up pick up pick up pick up, ” he muttered into the receiver. 

His upper body was still flopped over to the plush carpet, legs twitching and shaking on the bed with his anxiety. 

He’s had some massive fucking realizations and he needs backup. 

“This is the Byers.”

“Put El on the phone.”

-

“Oh. Steve’s covered in blood again. The Upside Down must really be back,” Dustin said in complete monotone as Steve opened the door. 

Steve couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. 

He felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough, all coming in the neat package of a major breakdown. 

He felt manic and shaky and so what if he forgot he was covered in the aftermath of a superpower-nosebleed-explosion?

“Shut up. Just get in.”

El had rallied the old troops from St. Paul, calling everyone at the ass-crack o’fuck in the morning and saying something about catching some weird Hawkins vibes all the way from Minnesota. 

It was a fucking weak excuse, but explaining the whole Steve situation was just not really in the cards today. 

He’s got an agenda and they need to stick to it. 

Robin said she’d gather Max on the way to Steve’s place, and Nancy was probably hauling Mike and Lucas over faster than a speeding gun or whatever that expression is, so all Steve had to do was get his story straight. 

“And maybe you should think about putting on a clean shirt? At the very least. I’d say, maybe just start over. Take a shower. Powerwash your face, even.”

“When the fuck did you become sarcastic ?”

“Right after you became friends with the coolest chick on the planet and then decided you’re too good for her.”

“ Chick. Don’t call Robin a chick. And I’ve told you, we’re just friends. I’m not too good for her.”

Really, Steve thought she was too good for him. 

Well, that, and there’s the whole part where she’s super totally not into guys at all. 

“So, what’s this all about, anyway? Mike said on the phone that El called him and left a really cryptic message.”

“Look. She called me to explain and ask if everyone could meet here,” Steve lied. “I’ll give you guys a recap once the rest of the gang shows.”

“But she thinks there’s something going on with the Upside Down? Again ?”

“I think she knows there’s something going on with the Upside Down.”

The more Steve sat with the memory of how Billy looked in that dream, the more he was certain of where he was. 

Billy had been ratty. His normally perfect hair was long and limp, greasy on top and matted around his face. He was sporting a patchy beard, nothing like the fuckin’ pornstache the guy had been rocking all last summer. 

And he was filthy. Covered in grime and dirt, and Steve’s sure if he’d looked harder, he would’ve seen traces of that viscous black goo that only meant bad news. 

There was a squeal of tires, an alarm signaling the arrival of Nancy in her mother’s station wagon, toting her brother and Lucas. 

“I’m in this now, Lucas Sinclair!” came Erica’s voice from the entryway. 

Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.

“Erica, you accidentally found out about all this!”

“So did you!”

The Sinclair siblings’ bickering was only cut by the sound of the Wheeler siblings snapping at one another in turn.

“Am I the only one that thinks it doesn’t make sense to meet up this early? El and Will are like, seven hours away!”

“Mike! It doesn’t matter. We all have to talk and figure out what’s going on.”

The sounds of arguments all quieted abruptly as the four people rounded the corner and caught sight of Steve.

“Oh, Jesus. Who kicked your ass this time?” Mike snipped at Steve. 

Oh, yeah. He keeps forgetting he’s covered in his own nose blood. 

“What? It’s nothing. I kicked my own ass. Just take a seat.”

“I told you to-”

Steve didn’t wanna hear it. 

He loves all these people, but his head kinda felt like it was full of mushy jelly and runny pudding and all the loud talking wasn’t doing much to help. 

He stepped out onto the porch, snagging the pack of cigarettes he kept stowed in the flower box next to the door. 

It took two to finally tame his nerves any. 

Sitting there with all the people in his house waiting for an explanation, he kinda felt like his haphazard plan was shit and going to fall through immediately. 

Just tell them El called. Tell them she saw Billy in the nowhere place and she thinks he’s alive. Easy as pie. 

The tell-tale sound of a skateboard making its way closer and closer announced Max before he saw her. 

Robin was pedaling next to her, helmet lopsided on her head and not buckled underneath her chin. 

They were talking animatedly to one another, their laughter dying as soon as they saw Steve waiting for them.

“Fuck. So this is real.”

“Why does everyone think I got the shit beat outta me?”

“Your ass gets creamed every time some spooky shit goes down in this place, Harrington,” Max informed him. 

She was a little Billy replica, all the way down to the way the corner of her mouth twitched up when she said his name. 

It would’ve been sad. The way she tried to become her brother after losing him so violently last summer. 

But something like relief settled into his bones, strong and real and wait ‘til I tell her Billy’s not dead and he was laughing. Curling in on himself cackling so hard his stomach had already begun to get sore

“Fuck. He’s lost it,” Robin sighed, ditching her bike next to Dustin’s and heaving Steve up, both hands underneath his armpits.

-

Nobody dared speak. 

“And you’re sure? You’re positive you heard one of those things?”

Janet had her arms twisted over her chest, her jaw tight as she watched Hopper’s every move. 

“It’s not really a sound you forget.”

Billy’s hand was shaking, he was gripping the ax so hard. 

“So, we’re fucked,” Angela said harshly. Her cold voice sent ice down Billy’s spine. “If those things are back, we don’t stand a fucking chance.”

Hopper scrubbed his hand over his brow, sighing through the cloth over his mouth and nose.

“It just means I have to try harder. I can get to El, I know I can.”

Hopper said that a lot. But he never explained what getting to El meant. 

Heather had explained she met El once, but she said it was weird and she only saw her like some kind of shadow, a figment in this dark empty place. Somewhere as cold and broken as the Upside Down felt. 

The little one was leaned up against Billy, his left hand balled in the edge of Billy’s leather jacket. He stood like that a lot. It was grounding for Billy. Kinda like holding Max’s hand when she was young and still thought he was the coolest person she’d ever met. 

“But, you only heard something, right? So it very well could be nothing.” Timothy was good at keeping mediator. He always kept a level head and talked slowly and calmly. They needed someone like him in this nightmare.

“They make this noise. This kind of wet chirping. Like this gurgle that just sounds like they’re watching you, ready to pounce out at any time, shrieking and attacking. It’s not a sound you forget.” Hopper had this horrible haunted look on his face, and Billy fucking believed him. 

“Then we up nightwatch. Stick together,” Billy offered. He never usually piped up with strategy, but that’s the best he’s got, and frankly, he thinks it’s the only way they’d all be able to make it through. 

“Exactly. We move in a pack now. Keep track of everyone together, and stay aware of what’s around us. I think we should do a major run and then lock up for a few days to see what goes down.” 

Hopper leaned back in the ratty armchair he was taking up, looking around to see if anyone challenged his ideas. 

Billy had given up his alpha male attitude the second Hopper yanked his upper arm and nearly screamed at him, asking Billy if he was ‘one of the flayed’ all while aggressively checking him over for injuries. 

First time any of Neil’s lessons actually sunk in. 

Respect and responsibility. 

If that fucker could see Billy now, doing nothing but respecting authority and taking responsibility for all these peoples’ lives. 

“We should rest up. Take a run tonight. Get a lay of the land,” Timothy said with an air of finality. Nobody argued. 

Hopper nodded. 

Everyone broke out from the Harringtons’ living room, milling around to get prepared for tonight’s run. Taking stock of what they needed to keep going for the next few days. 

Billy was itching to slide back into his cot and try to seek out that space if he can. The empty space where Harrington and that warm feeling of safe existed. 

The little one stayed clinging to his jacket, and Billy took a loose hold of his wrist, trying to provide some kind of basic comfort to the tiny kid. 

“You wanna go raid the cabinet?” The kid stared up at Billy with big eyes. Billy could never tell what color they were in the gloom. He thinks maybe green. 

The cabinet was a large door, built into the wall of the sitting room, and clearly where the Harringtons kept their games. 

They had these excruciating couple thousand-piece puzzles, the pictures peeling and faded on the pieces. They had Trivial Pursuit and backgammon, and all kindsa shit. 

The little one went and pulled out the checkers board. That was the only game Billy knew how to play anyhow. 

He and Max used to sit for hours, playing with this dinosaur-themed checker game Max’s dad got for her one birthday. 

It helped, playing a game. Helped pass the time. Help bait the anxiety. 

Helped them all feel a little bit closer to human.

-

“I don’t. Get it.”

Apparently, Nancy was not the only one, if the blank stares Steve was receiving from around his living room were anything to go by. 

“Yeah, why did she call you ?” Mike’s snitty tone was really grating on Steve’s fragile nerves.

“She said, she called to make sure everyone could come over here before she told you all to just show up this early on a Sunday morning and then she kinda explained what happened.”

Max was white as a sheet, tracking Steve like he was playing a horrible joke on her. 

“And she saw Billy. Billy Hargrove .” 

Steve nodded at Dustin. 

“Why does she think he’s in the Upside Down?” Robin asked, perched on the coffee table, sitting closest to where he was standing nervously. 

“She just knows .”

It was frustrating, trying to impart the seriousness of the situation without just spilling his guts. 

He rubbed absentmindedly at the cigar burn on his wrist. 

“I just don’t believe this. I talked to her three days ago, and she’s still having trouble with her powers. She can barely move a book, and hasn’t been able to get to the void since July, and you’re saying she accidentally saw Billy Hargrove, who we all saw murder a bunch of people and then get killed -”

“Shut up! He wasn’t himself!” Max shrieked out over Mike, the only time she’d even opened her mouth since Steve had mentioned her stepbrother’s name.

“Even if he is alive, El couldn’t have seen him! It doesn’t make sense!” Mike’s voice rose over Max’s, and Steve has a fucking headache and he’s over it.

“It was me! I had a dream. I went to the void. I saw Billy in the Upside Down. I called El to say she saw him.” 

Everyone went dead silent, staring at him.

“Steve,” Robin began, searching his face.

It was like all the wind that had been filling up his sails, powering his energy ship, had suddenly quit blowing. 

Steve was tired. 

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs where he sat.

“I need you all to shut the fuck up for a moment and let me explain, because I only wanna say all this shit once.” He covered his bloody face with his hands. “I’m like El.”

That statement hung in the air for a moment. 

And then there was a roar of noise.

“How could you keep this a secret?” Dustin shouted.

“Not in a million years !” Lucas decided. Erica yelled something back at him, vaguely defending Steve, which was nice.

“You mean you came from the lab?” Mike had a look on his face like he’d swallowed a particularly bitter lemon. 

“Everybody, shut the fuck up!” Max roared, glowering at each person until they were silent again. 

In all this Robin hadn’t said a word. She was pale, staring at Steve.

“Look, I don’t wanna go into it because it fucking sucks to think about,” Steve still hadn’t uncovered his face. “But yeah. I was in the lab. I got out because they decided I was a failed experiment. My mom worked at the lab and she took me and we pretended like the three of us moved here from Oklahoma and my dad told me never to tell anyone. And I haven’t. Didn’t even tell El. She recognized me from then. Don’t even know how, I left when she was like, three. Doesn’t matter. I’m a freaky lab kid and last night I fell asleep and saw Billy in that-what’d you call it? The void? Yeah, I saw him, and he’s covered in dirt and gross black Upside Down shit, and he’s fucking stuck there, and now we’re here.”

There was another silence. 

Steve didn’t dare to look at any of them.

He didn’t want them to laugh in his face. Tell him he was making all this shit up and leave him alone to deal with Billy trapped somewhere else. 

He wanted them to take his word for it. To quietly believe this crazy fucking shit of a story because the scared other feeling was back and clawing at his spine and making him want to burrow into the ground and find somewhere safe and secure and-

“Okay.”

Of course it was Robin. 

It was always Robin. 

Steve let himself look at her. 

She was pale, but she was smiling at him. 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Steve nodded once.

“Okay. Uh, great.”

“Wait, if you’re defective, no offense, then how did you see Billy?” 

Steve stared at Max weighing his answer carefully. 

“Because, well, the defective thing, that was all, I didn’t mean to, that was before I really understood what I could do. Don’t get me wrong, it really worked out, but it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Sailor Man.”

“ Erica .”

Erica just rolled her eyes at Lucas. 

“Okay. Uh, before I explain, just, just keep in mind that I have rules, and I don’t use my powers if I can avoid them, and I’d never use them to be a creep, but-”

“Steve!”

“Fine!” The words were right there, ready to tumble out of his mouth and ruin his life forever. 

There was no going back after this. 

The second they knew, everything would be different.

“I can feel other peoples’ emotions and, like, change them.”

Another silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Nancy was the last person he’d ever want to have this conversation with. 

He knows what she’s thinking. He knows that the great anger brewing inside her is because she assumes he made her like him. Made her attracted to him. 

Made her want him. 

“I don’t use it like that. I would never, put something there that shouldn’t be there. It’s just, When someone feels something near me, I can tap into it. Let it become my own feelings. And then I just, change it. Just a little.” He cast around for a harmless example because so far, everyone was staring at him like a goddamn creep. “Robin!”

She startled slightly when he yelled at her.

“Okay, so Robin. I’d never, ever make you feel something not true to you. Like, I’d never make it so you were into me when you’re totally not, right?” He cast a glance at Nancy. “But, like, the other day, when you felt really shitty when I invited you over and you were studying, I just, I made it so you wouldn’t feel bad. I felt all this guilt you had for leaving me alone when you thought I was having a shitty day, and I made it so you didn’t feel guilty because you shouldn’t. That’s the kinda level I allow myself to work on.”

The look Robin was giving him was breaking his fucking heart. 

Worse still, was the feeling of betrayal that began eating away at her. 

“So, right now. You can tell what we’re all feeling?” Even Lucas, ever the level-headed one, couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I don’t want to. I don’t try to, but I can’t really avoid it. I just try to ignore it. But sometimes, sometimes if I bottle it all up for a while, it comes crashing out of me, and that’s when bad shit happens. If I don’t use it occasionally, it only wakes things worse, and I-”

“I can’t hear this.”

Robin’s anger crashed through Steve like a wave, nearly knocking him over. She stood, towering over him. 

“When we were in that bathroom, all drugged out of our minds. I-” she sniffed, rage tears pooling in her eyes. Steve likes her eyes. So crystal blue. “Are we even really friends?”

Her last question was nothing more than a whisper. 

And it made Steve wish he was never born.

He gaped at her like a dead fish.

“Rob, of course we are! I would never-”

“Because I hated you. And then one summer. Two whole months where we’re close enough that you can get all up in my brain, and suddenly I’m telling you shit I’ve never told anyone before.”

“It wasn’t, Robin I swear, that whole time, I never once used-”

She held up her hand, cutting him off. 

A sob caught in his throat as she turned on her heel. 

She slammed the door closed behind her. 

Another fucking silence. 

Steve couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

Their feelings were enough for him now, betrayal and anger and disappointment rushing into his lungs, drowning him. Choking him. 

“You’ve used them on all of us.”

It wasn’t a question. 

It was just a statement. The coldest he’s ever heard Dustin sound. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“Jesus, Steve. You realize that’s actually totally fucked up, right? You can’t just make us feel whatever you want,” Dustin bellowed at him, standing up like Robin had done, looking down at Steve where he sat pathetically on the floor. 

And, when it’s put like that. 

Sure. 

It’s kinda fucked up. 

But he’s only ever meddled in a way that’s good. He only ever tries to make his friends feel the positives. Hell, on the night of that stupid Snow Ball, he’d given Dustin enough self-confidence to make Madonna seem insecure. 

All he does is try to help. 

“All I do is try to help.”

More fucking silence. 

Steve was so goddamn sick of silence. All he had was silence. He had the nothing, empty quiet. And he didn’t want it from the people who were supposed to make his life loud. 

“El won’t be here until later tonight. I think we should just meet up then.”

Steve buried his head in his hands, biting back sobs as the small group filtered out of his house. 

This is why he had wanted to take this secret with him to death. 

He told everyone who he really is, and now they all hate him, and he’s completely alone, and wherever Billy is he’s fucking scared and-

“Steve?”

Max’s voice was small, mirroring the way she was curled in on herself in the plush armchair near the wall. 

“Do you really think Billy’s alive?”

Steve nodded at her, desperately begging her to stay. To help him. 

“I know he is.”

“I have an idea.”

-

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. 

Doesn’t remember much of anything in this place. 

He studied the water lapping at his muddy boots, dragging his toes through it to make the water wave and ripple. 

It didn’t make a sound. 

“I want to help.”

Billy knew Steve was there even before he spoke. 

Something about the warmth he brought to the void place. 

The safety. 

“Don’t know if you can.”

Steve’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile at that. His face was covered in blood, dried and flaking away from his skin, painted all the way down his face and neck, some staining the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“That happens when the only interactions you have with a guy are to beat his ass.”

Steve cracked a real smile at that. Something big and bright that made Billy’s gut twist in a way he didn’t quite like. 

“You’re forgetting all those other times we spent together. You’re not very subtle, you know.”

Yeah, Billy knows. 

Mostly because he wasn’t trying to be subtle. 

He had talked to Steve about his bitchy ex while they both had their dicks out in the shower. He was trying to be very much un-subtle. 

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know.”

Oh. 

Steve knows. 

And all he had done was stare blankly at Billy. 

Nice. 

“I need to know where you are.”

“Why?” 

“Because I can help.”

Billy just blinked at Steve. 

“Do you know El?”

Something funny happened to Steve’s face. He kind of gave a little smile that flickered into a frown and landed on something a little pinched and awkward. 

“Yeah. How do you know her?”

“Hopper keeps saying he needs to get to her. None of us know what he’s talking about.”

And with that, Steve’s eyes went huge, and his jaw dropped. The water at Billy’s ankles sloshed quietly. 

“Hopper’s there? Chief Hopper? Jim Hopper is there?”

“Jesus, yeah. Been here since we all woke up.”

Steve acted like Billy had told him that Farrah Fawcett herself was on her way to shave his head. 

Meaning, he looked struck fucking dumb. 

“I’m gonna need you to explain.”

“I don’t know. Don’t remember much. Crashed my car on one of your shitty backwoods roads, and then everything is just, kinda, gone. I woke up in this shithole version of the library and Hopper found me here and we’ve kinda set up camp.”

Billy shrugged lamely. Something was dripping, he could hear the sound of it far behind him.

“There’s more of you? How many?”

“Not as many as there should be.”

Steve’s mouth pinched, and his big droopy eyes went all sweet and sad. 

“Where are you? Where’s the camp?”

Billy was suddenly embarrassed. There was a sound like a stream flowing over rocks.

What’s he supposed to say? The hellscape skeleton of your house oh and by the way all your stuff is here and I slept in your bed once because I was scared and sad.

“Someone’s house. Don’t know whose.”

Steve huffed some air out of his nostrils, his mouth pinching again. 

Billy hadn’t realized someone could make so many different expressions just by pursing their lips in different ways. 

“Find out. We’re coming to get you.”

A crash of a wave, and Billy was back in hell. 

-

Steve sucked in lungfuls of air, tossing the towel that had been covering his eyes to the ground. 

“You saw him.” 

Max was sitting in front of him, the t.v. playing static behind her. 

“Yeah. He’s okay. I mean, he’s really gross. Like, he’s-sorry. He’s okay.”

Max was still staring at him like she didn’t quite know how to proceed. 

“But he’s in the Upside Down?”

“Yeah. And there’s others. He said Hopper’s there, that he’s been trying to contact El.”

“Wait, Hopper? He’s alive?”

“Billy said all of the flayed woke up after the Fourth of July in the Upside Down. He doesn’t know anything that happened in this world, and Hopper was there and they’ve set up, like, some kind of camp, or whatever. He said they’re in someone’s house. He doesn’t know who.”

“ Fuck .”

Yeah, Steve agrees with that sentiment. 

This whole thing was like, kind of a lot. 

And deep inside him, those other feelings had yet to leave him alone all day. 

There was some kind of disappointment knocking about in his brain. 

He knows it’s Billy. 

All of those other feelings, it’s whatever Billy is feeling right that minute wherever he is. 

And it only happens when Steve is-

“Max, he’s here.”

She whipped around behind her, staring at the front door like Billy could waltz through it at any moment. 

“No, no not here, here .” She clearly didn’t understand. He used the towel to wipe the fresh blood from his upper lip, still having yet to clean himself up any. “The camp, the safeplace, it’s here. They’ve set up in my house!”

It felt like a revelation on par with the greatest inventions. Steve felt like the scientist that landed the man on the moon or the very first person to melt cheese onto fries. 

A genius. 

“So, he’s, I mean, he could be, just, here .” She looked over the room wistfully, and Steve knew how she felt. Like she wanted to pierce her hands into thin air, tearing a hole in between the two worlds and ripping Billy straight outta hell. 

(Really, she just filled him with a wave of fierce determination, but Steve likes to take poetic license on other people’s feelings sometimes.)

“And you can feel him.”

“Yeah.”

“Is he, okay?”

And he knows this question. 

Not the okay he assured her of when he first saw Billy. Soothing that he wasn’t missing any internal organs or possessed by any monsters. 

She wants to know if he’s held it together. 

“He’s scared. He’s always scared. But he’s really fucking stubborn, and he- I don’t know why he feels these things, but sometimes he gets kinda sad. Almost like he’s lost something, and sometimes, it feels like he’s caught fire, and his insides are just going up in flame and he gets overwhelmed by them. And sometimes he feels-” He hadn’t meant to continue.

“Tell me.”

He’s pretty sure Max knew what he was going to say next. 

She just wanted it confirmed. 

“Hopeless. Sometimes he feels hopeless.”

She sniffed, her eyes shining as she looked anywhere that wasn’t Steve. 

“But, we know now. He doesn’t have to be hopeless anymore. We’ll find a way in, and we’ll get him out.”

He didn’t want to manipulate her. 

He didn’t want to cross the boundaries everyone clearly thought he already had. 

But he was positive he would find a way to Billy. He was positive he would get him out and get him home. 

He sent a wave of that determination and hope and conviction to her. 

“Yeah. We’ll get him.”

-

“Hopper, man, some funky shit is going down.”

Hopper whirled around quickly, halfway to his feet and asking who's been hurt before Billy raised both hands, acting like he was calming an anxious horse.

“Nah, sorry, shoulda worded that better. I just mean, something’s happened to me. With me, maybe. I don’t know. Just hear me out. This shit’s gonna sound, insane.”

Hopper didn’t say anything as Billy explained, beginning with that night when the wall shattered next to his head, and ending with his most recent trip to the void place. 

Billy shrugged lamely when he finished explaining. 

“So, Harrington, huh? Never woulda guessed he was like her. You sure you didn’t see a little girl anywhere in the blank place?”

“No. It was just us. Both times.”

Hopper leaned back in his chair, scratching a hand through his thick beard. 

“The first time one of the demogorgons showed up on our side was behind Steve’s house. Took Will Byers from his shed. They live some few miles away. Second time was in Harrington’s backyard. Took Barbara Holland.” Hopper sighed, looking in the direction of the busted radio. Billy could more or less see the cogs turning in his head. “If you see him again, tell him where we are. Tell him I think the walls are thinnest here. That maybe he and El could tear through. Better yet, tell him to find me if he can.”

He clapped Billy on the shoulder, looking right at him in that way he did sometimes. It always made Billy feel like a little kid. 

“Thank you, kid. You might’ve just saved us.”

Billy felt awkward and didn’t really know what to do with his face. Thankfully, Hopper turned away from him, cutting the moment short and moving back to fiddling with the old radio. 

Billy ducked his way up and back to the furthest bedroom on the ground floor, taking a seat on his low cot and digging his palms into his eyes. 

He didn’t know how the void happened. If he could only get there in his sleep, or if it was Steve’s doing somehow. 

“C’mon, Steve. Where are you? Come find me, Pretty Boy. We gotta talk.”

When he moved his hands away, he was in that blank place. 

Billy was taken aback a bit, thinking somehow he had created the place around him. 

Until he saw Steve, standing nervously and staring at Billy. 

“I felt you. What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, you felt me? What in the fuck’s that supposed to mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. What happened? Are you guys okay?”

Steve wasn’t covered in blood anymore. 

In fact, he looked freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and soft-looking without product. 

It’s how he always looked right after having a post-practice shower. Clean and warm. Soft and inviting. 

“I talked to Hopper. He told me to give you a message.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, and he took a step towards Billy, the water rippling where his foot disturbed the surface. 

“He said, well. He told me where we are. Apparently, we’re at your place.” Billy tried to smirk a little, act like this was brand new information to him.

“Yeah. I gathered.”

“He thinks the walls are thinnest at your place. Said that maybe you and El could tear through easily. That mean anything to you?”

Steve nodded so hard his bangs flopped right into his eyes. 

He pushed his hair out of his face, tucking some behind his ear. Billy tracked the movement. 

“We’re going to try tonight. Maybe around six. Can you guys be ready by then?”

“We don’t have any way to track time around here. Don’t even know if it’s day or night, really.”

Steve bit his soft bottom lip, looking at Billy like he wanted to cry for him. 

“Then I’ll come and get you before. Warn you when we’re about to start. Make sure everyone stays close. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep it sustained, and we want to get everyone out if we can.”

“Steve, man, what in the fuck is going on? I’ve been shut up in this place for, for I don’t even know how long, and all of a sudden, you just start showing up in my head and telling me that you’re gonna take point on this big fuckin’ rescue mission.”

Billy doesn’t want to admit it to anyone, least of all Steve Harrington, but he’s scared, and confused, and he genuinely wishes that he had died in that library instead of waking up. 

“I’ll explain it when you get back.” 

And Steve smiled at him and the corners of his eyes crinkled and Billy didn’t quite feel like he wanted to die anymore. 

-

“Where are they?”

El didn’t even say hello when she pushed Steve’s front door open, just made straight for Max and Steve in the sitting room.

“They’re all being dicks,” was Max’s answer. “Steve told us about how you two know each other, and everyone kinda freaked.”

“I mean, it’s pretty freaky.”

“Yeah, sure, but they didn’t need to be such shitbirds about it.”

Somewhere between feeling harshly angry at Steve and his powers and hearing her brother’s voice crackle through the television speaker, Max had pretty much ensconced Steve as her sidekick. 

Which he didn’t mind in the least. 

It was kinda odd seeing the Byers in his house. 

Jonathan looked. Exactly the same. 

Like literally. His hair had grown out since his mother had taken a pair of scissors and a bowl to it last summer, and he looked just like the Hawkins Jonathan Steve was used to. 

It was kinda nice. 

At least one thing hasn’t changed. 

Especially because Will is pretty much unrecognizable. 

He had shot up, growing until he could nearly look Steve in the eye. And thank God, he must've followed Jonathan’s footsteps and stopped letting Joyce cut his hair. 

It was longer, adn shaggier, but it made him look so grown up. 

Nearly as grownup as El, her hair nearly down to her shoulder blades, the top of her head coming up on Steve’s chin, showing off the signs of her own growth spurt. 

Even Joyce was sporting a new look. Longer hair with bangs that were swept off her face.

She gave Steve a comforting hug, and those were just the same. 

Unease filled the room. 

Nobody knew what they were walking into. El had to have given them the basics, and Steve figures she explained some on the long drive back to town, but there had been even more developments since the last they had spoken this morning. 

Steve sifted through the borderline panic of Max and the Byers, clinging onto the fierce calm that El was radiating. Probably for his benefit more than her own actual experience. 

“I know where Billy is. We talked. I have an idea.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the feelings. “Hopper’s alive.”

It took a second. 

El’s carefully maintained calm wavered for a moment. 

And then it crashed down. 

Disbelief, relief, denial, anger, hope, joy. 

Everything a person could possibly feel at once poured out of El and Joyce both, nearly knocking Steve off his feet with the sheer velocity of the emotions. 

“Saw him?”

“No. But Billy mentioned him. He said he’s been trying to get to you.”

El’s eyes filled with tears, and Steve could feel the satisfaction, the pride, welling up in her that Hopper was still thinking of her. That he was trying to reach out. 

“My powers,” she trailed off.

“Yeah. I know. But, he said, well, he told Billy to tell me, he thinks the walls are thinnest here. Maybe in the woods outback. He thinks we can do it.”

Sorry,” Joyce interrupted. She had gathered herself somewhat, but her feelings were still shaky. 

She always felt like she was trembling emotionally. Joyce felt everything nearly as viscerally as Billy did. 

“I think we’re not on the same page. Steve, you spoke to Billy? El said she sensed him.”

“Steve is like me. From Papa.”

“You mean, from the lab?” Jonathan clarified. 

Everyone was staring at Steve again and he felt like burrowing a hole right through the floor and hiding underground forever. 

“Yeah, I got out when I was a kid. My parents were pretty hell-bent on hiding it from everyone. But. You know. Cat’s outta the bag now. But yes, it was me who saw Billy. He’s in the Upside Down. A bunch of people are. Including Hopper. It sounds like they were all taken and the flayed people out here were like, fake. Like evil twin versions.”

Sure, it’s a shitty explanation.

It’s the best he can do, okay? Leave him alone. 

“So, what’s his plan, then?”

That’s the good thing about the Byers, though. They get the whole, priority thing. Now’s not the time to focus on shit like Steve’s fake life. Not when the Upside Down is concerned. 

“Billy didn’t say much. Just that he thinks maybe El and I could like, band together to open it. I don’t really know how, I mean, I haven’t thought about it much, I just spoke to him, but that's the idea. I told him I would meet him in the void or whatever before we go so he can gather everyone and get ready.”

“So, is it just us?” Will asked quietly, biting the inside of his cheek. He was disappointed. His friends not being where they were needed. Not being there to see him for the first time since his family moved away months ago. 

Steve shrugged.

He was battling his own disappointment and hurt at everyone ditching him. 

“No. Let’s start calling. We need to stick together for this one. Billy hasn’t said anything about how bad the Upside Down has been, and we need to be ready to fight off anything that tries to get through.”

“Max is right. They should be here.” Will was already making his way to the phone placed on the side table. “They need to be here.” 

Jonathan caught Steve’s eye, jerking his head slightly to the hallway. 

Steve followed him, already knowing the line of questioning that was about to hit him. 

“I knew you called El. I picked up this morning. Now the story makes a lot more sense, I guess.”

“Yeah. I’ve been getting this weird feeling for a couple months, but I finally put it all together. Probably would’ve happened faster it is was El.”

“I don’t know. She’s been struggling a lot. She practices every day, but,” he sighed” I don’t know if she’s strong enough to make this work.”

He’s worried, adn scared, and has that exact same tremble-feeling that his mother does. 

“I know. I just don’t think we can leave them any longer. Billy said they’ve already lost people. I don’t know what it’s been like for them, but they’ve been stuck for fucking months, and-”

This time, it hit him so hard he really did blackout. 

His vision clouded around him, and his whole body burned with the raging fear inside of him. 

He could hear something, could hear someone screaming, adn something, something that sounded horrible, and so very very like a-

-

“Demogorgon!”

It’s like it had come out of nowhere. 

This towering figure, long and thin in all the wrong fucking ways.

And the sound. Billy realized what Hopper meant about how it’s not something you forget. 

They were in some form of a ready position. 

Billy among the front of the group, holding his ax he had never let go of in the first place. 

His heart was pounding. 

We’ll be out soon. We’ll be out soon. 

He didn’t believe it. 

How could he?

How the fuck is Steve Harrington going to get them out of the worst place ever? No offense to him or anything, but the guy could barely make a goddamn milkshake without spilling something on the sticky tile floor of Scoops Ahoy! and now, Billy’s life is in this guy’s hands while he stares into the jaws of a monster that looks like it stepped right out of H.P. Lovecraft’s wettest dreams.

It’s not like this is the first time he’s had this realization, but he is in way over his fucking head. 

“Steve,” Billy grumbled to himself through gritted teeth. “If you can hear me, get us the fuck outta here.”

The thing ahead of them wasn’t moving. It stood in the line of the trees behind Steve’s house. 

It was staring down the clump of people on the other side of the backyard. 

The air was still. 

Billy’s ears were ringing. 

He stared the thing down. 

Its long fingers twitched. 

Someone screamed. 

And the thing charged. 

It roared like nothing Billy had ever heard before. A shriek that seemed to vibrate Billy’s bones and tremble the earth underneath his feet. 

It charged. 

Sprinting forward on long thin legs, it loped with a grace that turned Billy’s stomach and made his knees wobble and threaten to give out. 

Plant your feet. 

It rang through his head, Steve’s voice from, some time Billy couldn’t remember. Or maybe Steve was just the little voice that commanded his bravery now. 

Either way, he dug the balls of his feet into the cracked ground, and waited. 

Don’t stop fighting.

He swung. 

The ax clocked right into the side of the thing, barely cutting into its thick leathery skin, but it slowed it down. 

Well, actually. 

It made it change course from attacking the group as a whole, to honing in on Billy. 

Which was less than awesome. 

Billy wrenched the ax out of its tough body, thick, sticky black goo connecting the ax with its entry point as he drew it away. 

He swung again, nearly hitting the same place. 

The thing cried out, roaring over the sound of screaming and gunshots. 

Hopper had his rifle trained on the flowered head of the one Billy was furiously chopping into like a tree. 

There were two more, two he hadn’t noticed in his preoccupation with the one in front of him. 

He didn’t know who was who. Which gunshot belonged to which gun, which shriek belonged to which animal. 

He didn’t know if the cries of pain were from the awful beasts or the people in his camp. He was hoping the former. 

He swung again. There was a sickening sound of the metal blade connecting with something solid. Something like bone. 

Hopper shot it, once, twice in the head. 

It was whining, making a high-pitched noise as it staggered about. 

One last blow to the side of the thing, and it was finished. 

The monster flopped onto the ground, dark liquid oozing out of it, its body nearly split in half where Billy had hammered it with his ax. A great gaping wound that showed sticky dark entrails. 

Billy turned. 

His brain was working in slow motion as he charged into the battle still raging. 

He didn’t know how many of the things had arrived. 

All he knew was taking them out.

His arms were sore from the force he was putting into each blow with his ax. His muscles threatened to give out at any moment.

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

The thought was shoved into his head. He didn’t know where it came from but he believed it. 

“Help is on the way!” He shouted to no one and everyone. 

He had taken down two more demogorgons with the help of the others. One was missing its body, a petal head lolling on the ground, getting trampled on in the fight. 

-

Steve had felt the demogorgon before Billy saw it. 

It was an odd feeling, almost like it was a black hole sucking up everything he thought and felt before he could cling onto it. 

It made him feel cold, and empty, and just like the Upside Down felt. 

“We don’t have time!”

El was insisting on contacting the others. She was livid with them for abandoning Steve, but things were taking a turn for the small group trapped in that hellscape. 

“Steve’s right. If there’s a demogorgon there, that means the Mind Flayer has gotten some strength back, wherever he is.”

Steve nodded at Will gratefully.

“But, what’s the idea? You two open the gate. Then what? We wait for those things to come through to our side?” Jonathan asked, kinda harshly, if you ask Steve.

Steve rubbed his eyes, his fists pressing against them so hard he was seeing odd shapes. 

“No. I go through. I get them. I bring them back.” His head was a fucking mess. Billy was all over the place. Fear, desperation, and a horrible calm that only came when things looked like the end. Plant your feet, he thought, trying to get his feelings to Billy through the thin dimensional wall. Don’t stop fighting. “For the past few days, all I’ve been able to feel is somebody else’s fucking fear and this stupid stupid stubbornness and I know it’s Billy, and I know he’s in trouble. Like right now. The demogorgons are coming for them, and he’s so scared. He’s so fucking scared and he thinks he’s gonna die, and he’s trapped .”

He looked at each person individually, glaring at them all in the eye. 

“We don’t have time.”

So it was decided. 

He brought El outside, and stared into the shimmering water of the pool. 

The pool where a demon came out and dragged Barbara to her death. 

It gave him the fucking creeps. Well, it more gave him the severe anxiety, but there was something about it that made it seem like it was the best place to try and rip the fold between himself and Billy. 

Drive them back. We’re coming. 

He wanted Billy to have some hope. Something like a lifeline that would keep him fighting the monsters. 

He had wrenched his nail bat out of the wall it was still planted in from a few nights ago, and stood next to El, ready to try. 

“To be honest, I don’t know how to help you.” It was the only thing that scared him about this plan. “I don’t have the same powers as you. The telekin-the moving stuff around. I don’t know how to open this.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. 

“In Chicago. Kali. When I’m angry my powers are better,” she took his hand. “Make me angry.”

Steve closed his eyes. 

He tried to push Billy to the side, clinging onto the first bit of El he could sense. 

Her anger was like a melted core running through her. Driving her in a lot of ways. 

He grabbed onto it. 

Papa. Everything he did to your mama. Being locked in isolation. Fights with Hopper. Being trapped in the cabin. Feeling alone and not knowing how to fix it. New kids at school being mean. Techs in the lab that treated us like rats. The smell of skin burning. Parents that called you a freak. 

He didn’t know when he had stopped using El’s ready-made rage, and began siphoning his own straight into the beating heart of her fury. 

His gut began to feel white-hot, and he could feel the blood dripping down his lip. 

Lying to everyone. Being abandoned for the truth. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. 

Steve was livid. 

He’s never felt an emotion consume him like this. Felt one feeling take over so completely it’s like there was nothing else in the world. 

He opened his eyes. 

There was blood flowing steadily from El���s nose, and he knew his was doing the same. 

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, his body going into overdrive to divert all of his energy to his powers. 

The rift glowed red through the clear pool water, splitting open like a seam on a well-worn shirt. 

The burn on his arm ached, and he pushed into it. 

He remembered being held down on his father’s desk. Remembers the cigar being forced against his skin, bubbling up and disfiguring the tattoo beyond recognition. 

He remembers his father, this is for your own good, Steven. You’ll tell everyone you had an accident. People won’t question a burn like they will a tattoo. 

Like no one would take one look at the quarter-sized mark and know what would make it. 

He remembers getting the tattoo. 

It was nearly the same process. 

He was strapped down in a chair, his screams going ignored as the needle drove into his skin over and over, leaving a neat black number behind. 

001

Number One. 

The first in a series of children bred for something more, and beaten into acceptance. 

His head felt like it could explode. He didn’t know what was going on around him, was barely aware of El’s sweaty hand in his, and the bright red light coming from the cracked bottom of the pool. 

It was open. 

Number One took a deep breath, and dived into the pool. 

-

It was the little one that noticed it. 

Billy had been trying to yell at him to get back inside, to keep himself out of harm’s way. 

They had killed six demogorgons, and more were certainly coming. 

The trees in the forest were rustling in a way they never did on their own. 

The little one was pointing frantically, his eyes wide and scared. 

Billy turned, and his blood ran cold. 

Something was moving in the pool. 

It was making the thick non-water slosh around dangerously, the dark liquid lapping over the sides and staining the concrete. 

There were vines crisscrossing over the surface of the liquid, and Billy approached it carefully, hoping whatever was coming out would be trapped underneath them. 

“This is the last fucking thing we need,” Hopper gritted out, cocking his rifle and aiming at the sludge. 

And then Billy’s head felt like it had been cracked open. 

He was blinded with pain and rage and 

Help me, Hargrove!

He started swinging his ax wildly at the vines. Trying to break them apart enough for a body to fit through. 

His heart thundered in his chest, and he dropped to his knees, ripping at the slimy black tendrils. 

He shoved his left arm in.

It was like dousing his arm in ice. Like the liquid was made from the purest essence of cold. 

He searched frantically with his hand, finding something solid and yanking with all his strength. 

He had to put both arms in, grabbing hold of whatever he could, using his body weight as leverage to extract Steve from the cold. 

He was limp when Billy finally got him out, but breathing heavily. 

He opened his eyes, wiping his face free of the goop and blood covering him, and grinned at Billy. 

“Told’ya we would get you out.”

They shepherd him inside, most of the gang speechless and struck dumb from the events of the past while. 

Steve was given a change of almost clean clothes, and allowed to use some of their bottled water ration to clean the freezing black fluid from himself. 

He wasted little time, and was down in the Upside Down version of his living room with everyone else. 

“We can’t be long. El had to use a lot of strength to open it, but she’ll need her strength to close it, too.” 

Nobody knew what in the fuck Steve was going on about. 

Nobody but Hopper, that is. 

He still had disgusting pool sludge all over his front from when he pulled Steve into a tight hug when he had gotten his bearings back from his journey through the rift. 

“We can’t send people through that shit. It took all of Billy’s muscle to get you outta there.”

“So we drain it,” Steve insisted. “My parents drain it sometimes, I know how to do it.”

“I’ll keep watch. Make sure nothing tries to make itself known.”

Billy had barely wiped himself off. 

He didn’t care anymore about how freezing that shit was, he just wanted to surge forward, and get back the fuck home.

Hopper studied them both.

“Bring weapons. Yell if you need help.”

Billy nodded once, and turned on his heel, following Steve out the back door. 

Steve led him to a wooden shed on the side of the house. Billy had to clear the vines away from it before Steve could pry open the doors. 

It was full of pool equipment, and it didn’t take long for Steve to locate a large grubby pump. He knocked it against the wall of the shed until the filter attachment clattered off, leaving bigger openings for the sludge to, hopefully, run through. 

“Shit. This thing is electric. You got electricity?” 

It was the first time Steve had really gotten a good look at Steve since being in the Upside Down. 

He looked exactly as he had in the void place. His hair had a lot more disgusting black fluid in it, and he overall looked kinda shitty with the flecks of grime and blood on his face, but he looked bright. Alive. Strong. 

“How did you do it? Take me to that place. Figure out we were here.” 

Steve flushed. Billy had become overly aware that his face was completely covered under his bandana. Steve should cover his face. 

He drew another one of his back pocket, and, he didn’t know why, but he tied it around Steve’s face. 

Seriously, he could’ve just handed it to the guy and called it good there. But no. He had to set his ax on the ground, propped against his leg, wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and tie the bandana like this was some intricate ritual. 

All while Steve just stared at him with those fuckin’ eyes of his. 

“It’s a long story.” Billy could barely hear Steve speak through the dirty cloth now covering his mouth and nose. “I’ll tell you when we’re back. When we’re safe.”

“I’m holding you to that, Harrington. Can’t have a guy poking around my dreams and shouting in my head without knowing his intentions.”

It was as close to flirting as Billy dared right now. 

Right before they tried to journey between worlds. 

“Good to know you heard me. I was trying to give you something of a pep talk.”

“Well, it worked. I would’ve just put my arms out and let those things rip me to shreds if I hadn’t have known.”

Billy didn’t know what Steve’s face was doing behind the cloth, but his eyes dropped, and Billy imagined that little cinch of his mouth that he had noticed Steve doing so much in that void place.

-

Billy meant it as a joke. 

He really did. 

And the Billy that was torn to bits in the mall wasn’t this Billy. Wasn’t the real Billy that was made out of real Billy materials and real Billy personality. 

But it still made Steve feel queasy, thinking about his arms spread wide, black goop pouring out of his mouth and nose as the Mind Flayer decimated him. 

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Billy. Just, not now.” 

And Steve turned off, hauling the pump back to the pool and taking calming breaths. 

The pump sank without much effort, like there was some kind of gravitational pull at the bottom of the pool. 

Steve had connected the thickest hose he could find, adn sent Billy off with the extension cord to find an outlet that didn’t spark and threaten fire. 

Before no time, the pump was humming, and pushing black slime through the hose and onto the dead grass. 

They didn’t need to get it all out, just as much as they could shove everyone through. 

Steve closed his eyes, trying to reach El like he had Billy. 

We had a hold up. Shouldn’t be long. 

He could feel her on the other side. 

She promised she would stay close enough to the rift that Steve could get in touch with her. 

He could feel something slither down his spine, a wordless confirmation from her. 

The liquid in the pool was slowly edging down, leaving a stain on the once-white walls of the pool. 

“Gather everyone up. Tell ‘em to meet out here. Tell ‘em to leave it all behind.”

Billy was still staring at the edge of the forest when he commanded Steve. 

It was odd, being in his house that’s not his house. 

Everything was so. Wrong. 

From the way the house seemed to be crumbling down, reduced to its studs in some areas, to the way it was still clearly his house. Paintings his father had bought. Elegant furniture his mother selected. 

It was all there. Just under a thick layer of dirt and nightmares. 

He thought idly about his bedroom, wondering if it would look like it did on his end. A little messy, the sheets typically rumpled and unmade. 

He resisted the urge to wander upstairs, reminding himself he was on a mission. 

“It’s time. Don’t bring anything. It’ll probably be ruined along the way.”

Everyone looked grave. Steve tried to smile at them, tried to push through some calmness to them all. He had forgotten Billy’s bandana was tied around his face. He sent one last wave of quiet confidence around the room, and led the group through the kitchen. 

They had barely rounded the corner of the kitchen island when they heard a strangled yell from outside. 

Steve put his head down, and sprinted through the shattered glass doors, skidding to a halt in the threshold. 

Billy was staggering backward, his ax forgotten on the ground and his left hand was clinging wildly to his right shoulder. 

His jacket was in tatters, thick blood dripping bright crimson down his arm, standing out like neon against the dark, dirty ground. 

Steve didn’t feel himself moving forward. He didn’t feel his hands raising in front of him. 

He just felt anger. The same anger from before that had ripped through him like a raging forest fire and straight into El. 

The thing shrieked. 

It backed away from Billy, twisting and writhing as its horrible screams filled the air, making the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. 

Fierce fury was exploding out of him, and he grit his teeth against the pounding in his head. 

“You don’t get to hurt him,” Steve barely barked out. 

All went still, and the demogorgon snapped into pieces. 

Steve felt like he could pass out where he stood. 

He had never felt so wrung dry. 

His vision was waning at the edges, and he felt an arm around his waist, coaxing him toward the red light now barely shining through a thin layer of slime in the pool. 

“Hold your breath, Pretty Boy.”

-

Steve was limp against him, and Billy was doing his best to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder as he held Steve close to his side. He had fumbled off both of their face coverings, moving clumsily through the pain of his injury. 

He took one last breath, and jumped into the rip between worlds. 

He plunged into the water, the crystal blue of a chlorinated pool. 

It was the best feeling in the world. 

Being covered and surrounded by clean. The heated water doing more to soothe Billy’s frayed nerves than anything in his life. 

He kicked hard, swimming one-armed to the surface, Harrington a dead weight in his injured arm. 

His head broke the water, and he took in deep lungfuls of clean, crisp air. 

Someone was tugging at Steve, and Billy, for the first time in his fucking life, was glad to see those kids Max was constantly hanging around. 

A woman Billy didn’t know was fawning over Steve, feeling for a pulse, and looking relieved when she felt his hot breath against her palm. 

“There’s more coming,” Billy coughed. 

He barely managed to get the words out, dripping muck and grime on the cement by the pool, when it felt as though he was hit from the side by a speeding train. 

He buried his nose in bright orange hair, hugging Max back as tightly as he could manage. 

He was exhausted, and feeling her there, alive and okay, was all that was keeping him standing. 

“I thought, I mean, we all thought you were dead. We saw it. That thing killed you .” Billy realized, with a whole lotta horror, that she was crying. Sobbing outright into his dirty chest. 

“Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” How could they have seen when that monster just came at him? 

“Oh, you’re bleeding.”

And if she only just realized he was hurt?

Max frog-marched Billy inside, to a very pale-looking Nancy Wheeler, sitting ready with a first aid kit. 

Billy had to peel his clothes off his body, the fabric stuck to him like a second skin. 

Nobody was speaking, and more of the people locked in the other place came traipsing into the room, fluffy towels wrapped around their shoulders. 

Hopper was the last to come in, holding the woman tight to his side underneath the striped pool towel. 

“Steve and El are closing it back up.”

There was a quiet murmur around the room.

Nancy patched up Billy’s shoulder, Max still stuck to his side like glue, the little boy from camp pasted to his other side. 

He had no idea how much time had past when Steve finally came traipsing into the room with Max’s little friend, both of them sporting matching bloody noses. 

Steve looked like shit. 

His face was covered in blood, old and new, and he still had some of the gross not-liquid in his hair from the Upside Down. 

But Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see someone in his life. 

“I’m sure everyone has questions,” said the woman tucked against Hop’s side. El, Billy assumes, had taken her place on Hop’s other side, wrapping the towel around her shoulders as well. 

The woman launched into a story that made Billy feel like his brain was oozing out of his ears. 

A monster. One they had all met before. Playing body snatcher in their sleepy little town. 

Apparently, one had been wearing a Billy meat-suit and wreaking havoc around town, which made Billy wanna throw up until he died. 

Which, not-Billy, had died. Fuckin’ brutally. And in front of everyone. Which sure as shit explained why Max wouldn’t let go of his sweaty hand. 

The story made Billy queasy, and he took to studying everyone in the room instead. 

All the kids were there, even the one that had been following Steve around like a little shadow, but they were all glaring in the very much opposite direction of Steve. 

Steve himself was pressed almost against the wall, looking like he’d collapse if the wall weren’t supporting him. 

“What’s up with the cold shoulder?” Billy muttered to Max.

“They’re mad at Steve right now. He’s been lying to us all.”

It was all he got out of her before everyone started moving around. 

The woman, Joyce Byers, he’s learned, had finished her story, and the group from the Upside Down had begun clamoring for rides home, or maybe something to eat. 

Billy just saw Steve manage to slip away before he followed him. 

It took some doing, shaking off the little one, who still wasn’t speaking, and looked ready to burst into tears when Billy told him to stay behind in the living room. 

But Janet Holloway took the kid’s other hand and gently led him back into the living room. 

Billy nodded at her, and sped up the stairs. 

It was weird, being in Harrington’s actual room. 

It was messy, and looked like Steve spent most of his time here tossing clothes on the ground or twisting up in his bed covers like a tornado. 

But it was oddly comforting. 

Being in Steve’s real room, and not some perverse dirty copy. 

Steve was standing, facing the bed, peeling his borrowed jacket from his shoulders and leaving it there on the floor.

“I never said thank you.”

Steve startled at Billy’s voice.

“Yeah. No problem.” Steve’s tone was light and airy, but Billy heard him sniff.

“Max said the little shitbirds are mad at you. Something about you lying.” 

Steve turned around, giving Bily a watery smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

So Steve told him. 

About the lab. 

About the experiments. 

About the torture. 

He explained that he had rules. Never making anyone feel something they already didn’t. Never altering someone’s opinion of, or feelings towards him. 

Billy grit his teeth as he imagined Wheeler giving Steve a hard time about that.

Steve was silent for a moment, not looking at Billy.

“It’s okay if you hate me. I mean, everyone does now.”

“You'd be able to feel if I hated you. You and those powers of yours just saved my life, Pretty Boy. I’m pretty sure I’m feeling the farthest thing from hatred just about now.”

It was as close to a confession as Billy would let himself get. 

But if Steve knows what he’s feeling at any given moment, then that means that he knows, and he didn’t-

“Quit it. Insecurity isn’t a good look on you.”

Steve sounded tired, and he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms out. 

At first, it didn’t sit quite right with Billy. 

He had barely even begun to identify what he was feeling when Steve swooped in and just point blank told him what the emotion was. 

Billy spent nearly all of his time being a big fuckin’ facade. 

He tried his very best to hide any emotional tell from anyone around him. 

He prided himself on being a chameleon. That nobody would ever truly know how he felt in any given situation. 

And here’s pretty boy Steve Harrington. Who is feeling just as, if not more, strongly as Billy is. 

But, it takes out all the parts of emotions that Billy hates dealing with. 

Showing them. Talking about them. 

He’d never once had to grapple with the words to explain how he feels to Steve. 

Steve would just. 

He’d know. 

And god, that’s kind of a nice idea. 

Billy sat down gently on the bed. 

“Alright.”

Steve’s head popped up to stare incredulously at Billy. 

Billy just grinned at him.