#and how they were both abandoned and they found a kid who they thought had been abandoned and they took him in

[hetrosjistin]

No you know what, I thought I was done, but I'm not.

The problem with this shit is that it misses the point of having shit like the crows in Thedas at all.

You can't sanetize stuff and have it have the same impact, it's not just the hollowness, it literally reduces the conflict to a nothing burger.

You know why Dorian is, perhaps, one of my FAVORITE goddamn characters in the entire DA game series?

BECAUSE HE LITERALLY HAS TO GO THROUGH DEPROGRAMMING HIMSELF OF HIS RACIST SLAVER CULTURE! It's not enough that he wants to oppose the Venatori and all that nonsense. It's not enough that in inquistion, he literally went to the part of the world where he's taught they ENSLAVE people like him and burn out their brains if they're not good little obedient pet mages.

He goes there because it's right and that doesn't make him magically a perfect and good person. He's STILL flawed, he STILL has the baggage of his culture, and ADDRESSING IT is a constant fucking undercurrent of his dialogue and interactions throughout the game. How he is both proud of everything his civilization, the oldest extant civilization in the world, and horrified by the excesses of it's bad actors, and as time goes on his REALIZATION of how horrific each and every element of it is.

Like, when the Venatori take over minrathos. It's depicted as something ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE but frankly? That implies things were pretty okay before that!

What would ahve been SO MUCH MORE INSIDEOUS, would have been to show how LITTLE things had changed. Oh, have the burned out ruin of the hide out, have a few ventatori guards standing here and there, but now show how ABANDONED AND CALLOUS they all are. They don't -need- to set up a fucking police state, Tevinter already HAS IT IN PLACE. You don't NEED fucktons of venatori guards around docktown.

But by doing it the way they did they robbed so much of the substance of Tevinter from the game.

Like I'm actually on board with some of the changes. The Broodmother thing about the darkspawn was handled just about as well as it was ever going to be handled in Origins, so them all but abandoning them from the lore as time went on is a smart move IMO. Making significant changes to the dark spawn with the blight is a big deal, and a smart move.

But the draining of life from all the rest is unpardonable.

Have the Lord of Fortune -not give a shit- about other people's culture. It's pretty, it's bling, if it was so important why wasn't it better guarded? Why was it so stealable? Have that be a FLAW in their goddamn thing as FUCKING PIRATES.

Have the found family elements of the Crows, have them have a whole blood debt and true contract society thing. Have us confront the fact that if someone fails a contract their life is FUCKING FORFEIT. Play up the whole idea that found family can be JUST as toxic. Play up the idea that these orphans and street kids taken in by a fucking -assassin cult- effectively are molded to SERVE the interests of the nation as members of the 'family'.

I was -so- incredibly happy with inquisition where they CONTRASTED Blackwall so hard with the order at large. The Grey Wardens are a -death cult- created to fight the APOCALYPSE through wrote tradition and absolutely seething loyalty to the idea that they are the thin line against the darkness.

Play that up, show how god awful the anderfels are scoured of life by the blight and still infested with dark spawn. GIVE THE FIRST WARDEN A NAME AND WHY THE FUCK IS THIS GUY IN FUCKING MINRATHOS?! Play up the ENTIRE IDEA of what's wrong with them and contrast it with -our- experience of wardens from, basically, wardens who never actually underwent the indoctrination process.

Someone else on this hellsite said that the longer you think on veilgaurd instead of playing it, the worse it gets and goddamn is that the truth.

Problematic fiction is good because it coaches us through stories on how to fucking DEAL with actual bad things.

By sanitizing your fiction you rob it of it's ability to -teach- the audience any lessons beyond 'bad people bad'.

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

How the Night Changes

Summary: Based on the premise that having a threesome with Steve and Nancy would have saved Barb's life.

18+ MINORS DNI

"This isn't you, Nance," Barb sighed like she usually did.

Nancy looked at her like she always did when she was about to get herself into trouble. It's been like that since they were kids. Nancy would see something she'd want, and she'd go for it with reckless abandon. Barb always had to be there for her afterward and clean up the mess whenever it went wrong. Sometimes, it didn't. Sometimes, it worked out. She wasn't sure about this time. This was different than anything she had done. What if Nancy got hurt?

"Well, if you're so worried about me, then why don't you come up here and make sure I stay out of trouble?" Nancy smirked.

That was how Barb found herself in Steve Harrington's bedroom.

"Oh my God! My eyes!" Barb exclaimed.

"Barb!" Nancy exclaimed.

"It's a crime! Plaid on plaid and then, of course, there's the sad little picture of that car," Barb said. "Who decorates their room like this?"

"My mother," Steve said as he entered. "Yeah, she has terrible taste. I didn't have the heart to tell her at first that it was awful. My dad tells her things like that all the time just make her feel bad, and I didn't want to do that. She figured it out, though, and I tried to insist that it wasn't that bad. I put up that car picture to try and pull the room together. I was trying desperately to make my mom feel good about herself, but all it did was make it look more sad. We both thought it was so utterly ridiculous, and we ended up laughing so hard. . .so I don't keep it up because I think it looks good, it's just. . ."

"You keep it up because you love your mother," Nancy said.

"Yeah, Steve Harrington is a mama's boy," Steve said.

"I think it's actually sweet now that I know the story behind it," Barb said. "Sorry."

"Nah, your intention wasn't to make me feel bad," Steve shrugged. "And it is shocking the first time you see it."

Damn it, Barb cursed mentally. She was starting to like this guy.

"It's not too bad," Barb said, and he smiled.

"Here. I found you some clothes," Steve said and handed them to Nancy. "I'll leave you to it."

Barb recognized the look in Nancy's eyes. She had seen it many times when they had sleepovers, and she wanted to forgo their pajamas completely.

"Steve," Nancy called out.

Yep, there she goes. Steve turned and ran his hands through his hair. Okay, that was kind of cute. Wait, cute? She didn't find him cute, did she? No, she was strictly into girls, wasn't she? Suddenly, Nancy was taking off her shirt. Steve looked pleasantly surprised at the turn of events and he smiled.

"You're beautiful," Steve said and then looked at Barb. "What's happening here?"

"Well, Barb is here to make sure I don't get into trouble," Nancy said, smirking. "To look out for me. . .be my guardian."

"Well, she's a very good friend," Steve said smiling, and he moved closer to them.

"She is. . .we do everything together, but if you're not okay with that - " Nancy said.

"Oh, I'm definitely okay with that," Steve said.

Steve kissed Nancy. He was a lot more gentle than Barb thought he would be. Every touch said that he didn't want to hurt Nancy. A warm feeling began to stir within Barb as Steve kissed Nancy gently. He broke the kiss, and he turned to Barb, raising a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Barb?" Nancy asked.

"Well, I guess we really do everything together," Barb said with a sigh, and then she kissed Steve.

She could feel Steve smiling against her lips, and a giggle slipped out at what she had said. Okay, yeah, she liked kissing Steve. Almost as much as she liked kissing Nancy. Maybe it didn't matter to her what was on the outside, maybe it was what on the inside that sparked her attraction. It wasn't until that tidbit about his mother that Barb started to feel something. Barb cupped the back of Steve's head and deepened the kiss and loved the way that Steve kissed her back just as softly as he did with Nancy. He wanted to make sure that they were both safe and comfortable. Steve broke the kiss.

"If you guys want to stop this at any time, I would be happy to just hang out," Steve said.

"That's sweet, Steve," Barb said. "But we definitely want to do this. Right, Nance?"

"Definitely," Nancy said.

Nancy took off Barb's glasses and set them on the nightstand. She moved to the to the other side of Steve. Together, Nancy and Barb peeled off Steve's sweater, dropping it to the floor. Barb took off her jacket and sweater, dropping them amongst their clothes.

"I hope you don't mind - ," Barb said shyly.

"You're beautiful, too," Steve said, and he kissed her before stepping back to let Nancy in.

"Of course, you're beautiful," Nancy said, and she kissed Barb.

"Well, I already know that you don't mind," Barb said, rolling her eyes affectionately. "Just making sure that Steve doesn't."

"Oh, so, you've already been together. . .?" Steve asked.

"Well, not all the way," Nancy said.

"To be honest, I've never done it with two other people at the same time," Steve said, bashfully.

"Really?" Nancy and Barb asked.

"Why are you so surprised?" Steve scoffed. "Because I've slept with a few women?"

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

"I kind of assumed Tommy and Carol," Barb said, sheepishly.

"Well, I mean, they tried," Steve said and he screwed up his face. "I heard what they're like when they have sex. No thank you."

Barb giggled. He was just as judgmental as she was. As hard as she tried not to be, she could be a little catty.

"So, I guess this is the first for all of us," Barb said.

Steve was just as gentle with them when he was kissing them. Nancy and Barb couldn't help but share a look when Steve wanted to hold both of their hands. It was proven to be true that he thought they were both beautiful when they shed all of their clothing, and his eyes were just as dark when he looked at either one of them. Everything had fallen out of her head. All she could think about was Steve and Nancy. Barb had even forgotten to mention something to Steve. Oh, right.

"Oh, I forgot to mention that Nancy likes to - "

"OW!"

" - bite."

"Do it again."

It had started out awkward at first but once they found a rhythm, it felt beautiful to Barb to do this with both of them. Barb could tell that Steve was trying to hold off a long as possible but judging by the noise he made and the feeling between her legs, he had finished. He had satisfied them both pretty well, but Barb wasn't surprised when Steve rolled out of bed to clean himself off and throw away the condom and Nancy climbed on top of her. Nancy had kissed her harshly before sliding between her legs with her own, pressing herself up against her. She knew how randy Nancy could get. Even after all of that, she always wanted more. She loved being overstimulated.

When Steve came back, he had a rag and a couple of bottles of water. He got to watch them go all the way with each other, and Barb made eye contact with him when Nancy rolled off her, collapsing onto the bed. At some point, he had slipped his boxers back on. Steve climbed into the bed and cleaned them both off before offering them both a bottle of water. Nancy slipped on a sweater of Steve’s, kissed him, and went to the bathroom. Right, you were supposed to use the bathroom after you had sex? Barb had been a little too fucked out to think clearly but she remembered that much. Barb pulled on her sweater and underwear, hurrying after Nancy to do the same.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked after they crawled back into bed.

"We feel really good," Barb said. "You didn't hurt us at all."

"Well, not in a bad way, anyway," Nancy smiled.

"I'm tired, but my brain feels like it's on fire at the same time," Barb said. "I'm glad I decided not to sit outside and pout while Nancy had all the fun."

"I'm glad you didn't either," Steve said and kissed her cheek, resting his head on her shoulder.

"So, what did you mean when you said that Tommy and Carol tried?" Barb asked.

"Well, they attempted to seduce me, but they had a video camera, so I don't think their intentions were all that pure," Steve said. "I turned them down."

"You know, you seem nicer than I thought you'd be. I think I assumed you would be an asshole because of Tommy and Carol," Barb said. "Why do you hang out with them?"

"I'm curious to know myself," Nancy said.

"Well, Tommy didn't used to be so bad, not until Carol came along. He was my friend since I was eight, and I just hope that at some point, he will turn back to the Tommy that I used to know. I just can't seem to walk away from that," Steve said, and he paused, cursing. "Oh my God! I'm my mom!"

"What?" Nancy asked.

"No, my mom definitely deserves better, and she knows that, but she can't seem to walk away from my asshole of a father," Steve said, and then he scoffed. "I'm a kid that wants his parents to get a divorced."

"You're not alone with that," Nancy said as she ran her hand through his hair. "I want my parents to get divorced, too. I love them both, but I think they're just holding onto something that's never been there."

"I'm sorry," Steve said.

"I'm sorry, too," Nancy said.

"You know, my father expects a lot from me. He wants what's best for the image on his family, not what's best for me. It's the complete opposite of my mother," Steve sighed. "I'm tired of trying to be perfect all the time."

"Maybe you don't have to be with us," Barb said. "What do you say, Nancy? Should we keep him?"

"Oh, definitely," Nancy said.

"You know, now that you belong to us," Barb said, and Steve smirked. "Whatever decision you make about Tommy and Carol, we'll support it even if it's the stupid decision to stay with them."

"Thanks," Steve said fondly.

Nancy pushed him back, kissed him, and curled up against him. Barb laid down, kissed him as well, and threw an arm over the both of them.

"We should probably call our parents and tell them we're spending the night at each other's houses," Barb said.

"Oh, right, good idea!" Nancy exclaimed.

After calling their parents, they crawled back into bed and started to drift off to sleep.

BANG!

"What the hell was that?" Steve asked, sitting up.

"It sounded like it came from outside," Nancy said.

Barb, who was closer to the window, rolled out of bed and looked out onto the pool in the backyard. There was a rather large, deformed looking animal banging out the lawn chairs by the pool. It was sniffing rather frantically as though it was looking for something.

"What the fuck is that?" Barb gasped and grabbed her glasses, putting them on. "FUCK!"

Steve and Nancy rushed to the window. The deformed looking animal looked up, revealing that it didn't have a face. It wasn't an animal that Barb had ever seen before. Steve and Nancy gasped as it's face opened up, revealing several rows of teeth.

"Shit!" Steve exclaimed.

The monster rolled out its tongue and started lapping up something on the concrete.

"What's it doing?" Nancy whispered.

That was where Barb had been standing when she sliced her thumb with the knife. She glanced down at her hand.

"Licking my blood," Barb said. "It's hungry."

The monster stopped what it was doing and sniffed the air. Its head snapped in their direction, almost as if it heard Barb. She quickly yanked them both down under the window and grabbed their hands in hers. The only sound they could hear was their own shaky breathing. It seemed like forever had passed but really it had only been minutes when they heard a loud splashing sound and a screech. Nancy peered over the windowsill.

"Nance!" Barb hissed.

"It fell into the pool," Nancy whispered. "It doesn't not like it. It's burning its skin. It must be the chlorine. It's out, it's running away."

There was a pregnant pause as Steve and Barb looked out the window with Nancy.

"It's gone," Steve whispered. "Yeah, I'm not fucking sleeping tonight."

"Me neither," Barb and Nancy said.

Barb struggled to find anything to say or to think about other than the monster. There was one fact that Barb couldn't get out of her head, and it was the stupidest thing in the world to think about.

"If I had been out there, it would have gotten me," Barb breathed out shakily.

"But it didn't, you're here," Nancy said and squeezing her hand.

"Fucking you and Steve saved my life," Barb said.

She looked at Steve and together, they burst into laughter. Nancy eventually followed suite.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Nancy exclaimed.

"I know, but it's true!" Barb giggled.

Once the laughter died down, the horror of what just happened continued to hover over them. They said that they wouldn't fall asleep but the three of them ended up falling asleep, curled up on the floor.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Barb, Steve, and Nancy woke up with a jolt to the sound of Steve’s alarm clock. They jumped up, ready to fight. Barb groaned and rubbed her back.

"Yeah, falling asleep on the floor was a terrible accident," Barb said.

"Did that really happen last night?" Steve asked as he rubbed Barb's back.

"Yes, you did get to see the amazing secrets that I hold underneath my sweater," Barb said.

"No, not that," Steve snorted. "No. . .I mean. . .the monster. . . "

"Yeah," Barb said softly. "That was real."

"Well, going to the police seems stupid. I doubt they would believe us about what we saw," Nancy said.

"Okay, but shouldn't we tell someone?" Barb asked.

"Who would we tell?" Steve asked.

"I think our only option is to go to school and just act like nothing is wrong until we can come up with a plan," Nancy said. "We need proof."

Barb dropped Nancy off at home and then back to hers so they could get ready. The image of the monster floated into her head, and she couldn't get the fact that she could have died out it. Somehow, at the same time, she was also wondering where she stood with Steve and Nancy. Everything changed that night. Nancy and Barb could no longer deny that there was something between them. They always played it off as practicing but now that they went all the way with each other and also with Steve. Does that mean that Steve is her boyfriend and Nancy was her girlfriend? She couldn't help but giggle at the thought. She always figured that she would never have a boyfriend but now, maybe, she did. It was Steve Harrington of all people.

"Hey," Nancy said shyly as she slid into her car.

After getting ready, she went to pick Nancy up again. The car ride was silent until Nancy told her to stop.

"Nancy, what - "

She was cut off by Nancy kissing her. Barb was surprised for a moment, but she eagerly kissed her back. God, she wanted to pull her into her lap, and just - Nancy pulled away with a gasp.

"I just wanted to make sure that no one saw us," Nancy said.

Barb smiled at her as she took her hand and drove off. They ended up parking behind Eddie Munson's van, and a few minutes later, Steve found them. He made sure no one was watching before popping his head through the window to give Barb a kiss and then Nancy before letting them get out of the car. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I ditched Tommy and Carol," he said.

"Really?" Barb asked.

"Well, life is too short for me to be dragged down by those two idiots. I found something better for me, I think," Steve said. "Honestly, after what happened last night, it seems dumb to worry about popularity and all that when there's a monster out there."

"Well, it's good you got some perspective," Barb said. "And honestly, you're not the only one who's ever worried about that shit. There was a small part of me who wished that some of those people would acknowledge me a little."

"Really?" Steve and Nancy asked.

"Don't be so surprised," Barb said. "Come on, I don't want to be late for class."

"Great, and during lunch, we can talk about what to do about the monster with a flower for a head and teeth like a shark," Steve said. "Can't believe those words came out of my mouth."

"Well, it hates chlorine. That's one thing we know about it," Barb said.

As the three of them walked away, a confused Eddie Munson popped his head out of his van.

"Did Steve Harrington give up his crown to play D&D?" Eddie asked. "What the fuck kind of monster is he talking about? No, no, I'm hearing things again."

It was a tame sort of day compared to last night. It was still sort of an out of body experience to be hanging out with Steve knowing what they did. It made Barb blush when Steve and Nancy thought about it, too, sending her soft, knowing smiles her way. Tommy and Carol were petty bitches, trying to get under their skin all day but they ignored them. . .for the most part.

"So, Wheeler," Tommy said, slamming his hands onto the cafeteria table. "What is your ideal of a perfect date?"

"Watching you get hit by a bus," Nancy said.

Barb and Steve nearly choked on their milk. They cleared their throats, looking amused as Tommy's face started to turn different shades of red. Carol glared at her.

"How pathetic - ," Tommy started to say.

"I don't know, Tommy, how pathetic are you?" Barb asked. "I mean, I assume that's what you were going to say considering that you are being pathetic."

"You little - "

"Don't you finish that sentence," Nancy glared at him.

"You think you're so much better than us, but considering how easy it was to spread your legs for Stevie here last night, you're not really," Carol told Nancy.

"At least we actually like Steve. Do you even like spending time with him or listening to anything he has to say, or do you just like what he does for your image?" Barbara asked. "You can't stand on your own, so you use Steve like a crutch."

"Steve doesn't need you, but you need Steve," Nancy said. "And now that Steve doesn't want anything to do with you, you think that you can come over here and try to fuck with us until we leave."

"Well, we're not fucking leaving so find someone else's ass to bury your nose in," Barb said.

"Whatever," Tommy said. "Stevie-boy, running away like a fucking coward like always. You can't even stand up for yourself. You have to have these ugly bitches to protect you. You're not going to find anything better than us, and when you eventually get bored with them, we're not going to be here to save your sorry ass."

"They're better than you'll ever be, and if you think I'm ashamed of them fighting for me, then you're as stupid as you look. I know what it's like for people to really have your back, to care. . .one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've cared about all the wrong things. You're going to look even more pathetic and stupid than you do right now. You'll be as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside. You'll look in the mirror and realize that you had your chance but you fucked it up. I'm tired of waiting for you to be the old Tommy that I used to know, the one who actually gave a damn. Being friends with these two, I have better odds at not hating myself in the future than you do. What are your odds, Tommy?" Steve snapped.

Tommy scowled at him, his face bright red, and angry tears filled his eyes. He didn't have anything else left to say, so he stormed off, dragging Carol with him.

"That was hot," Barb said.

"That really was," Nancy agreed.

They nudged their feet with Steve’s and he smiled at them.

"You two weren't so bad yourselves," Steve grinned, and the smile slipped from his face. "I don't really feel like going to the game this afternoon. I don't know if I can go home either knowing what might be waiting for me."

"Well, maybe we can go over to my house this evening. My brother could use some company. And if you're scared of going home, maybe Mom will let me keep you in my basement," Nancy joked.

"I always did like the idea of being a kept man," Steve said.

"Eddie Munson is staring at you," Barb said.

"Probably wondering how I got so lucky with you two," Steve said with a charming smile.

"No need to strain yourself, Steve," Barb teased. "You've got us."

They moved on to discussing what they were going to do about the monster and whether or not it wasn't just a shared delusion between them. It was decided that it wasn't. The rest of the day moved rather quickly, still without a plan for the creature that haunted all of them. When the end of the day came, they moved sluggishly out into the parking lot. All three of them were exhausted from not getting much sleep last night. They almost didn't notice Nicole approaching them.

"Nancy, Barb, I'm so glad I found you," Nicole said. "I want you to know, first off, that I'm not going to say anything. I have a cousin who's like that, and I would never say a word."

"What are you talking about?" Nancy asked.

"Were you aware that Jonathan Byers was at your house last night?" Nicole asked Steve.

"What? No," Steve said.

"Well, I went into the dark room, and Jonathan was developing photos of your house. You and Tommy were in the pool with Carol and Nancy. Then there was a picture taken of your bedroom. Nancy was taking off her shirt, and so was Barb. You were kissing."

Barb felt her stomach plummet. Her worst nightmare and Nancy's. Well, one of them, anyway. Fuck. Normally, she wouldn't care about what others think, but this was different. If this got out, it could be dangerous for her and Nancy.

"Son of a bitch!" Steve yelled and then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thanks for telling us, Nicole."

Barb turned to Nancy, who was quiet, her eyes downcast as she crossed her arms over her chest. She was clearly uncomfortable by the thought of what Jonathan did and Barb hated him for it.

"Yeah, thank you, Nicole. We'll take care of it," Barb said.

Nicole smiled sympathetically at Nancy and walked away.

"You know how many times I defended Jonathan to Tommy whenever they had something shitty to say about Jonathan and his family?" Steve asked, his jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I figured that out when you told Tommy off yesterday when he was saying all that shit about his missing brother," Barb said and then muttered, "I thought he was a nice guy."

"Okay, one problem at a time!" Nancy exclaimed, and then she paused. "Wait, the photos. . . What else do you think he got a picture of?"

"I don't know. . .Tommy and Carol going at it in my parents' bed?" Steve asked.

"No, think again," Nancy said.

"The monster!" Barb and Steve gasped.

"Let's go find the creep," Nancy said.

It didn't long to find him making his way to his car. He looked startled to see all three of them together.

"Where are the pictures you took last night?" Nancy asked, her arms still crossed.

Barb knew how much Steve wanted to step in. She wanted to as well, but she felt like Nancy needed to handle this herself. She took his hand, squeezing it affectionately. God, his hands were huge. Suddenly, she recalled the way they squeezed her thighs last night. Right, focus.

"What photos?" Jonathan asked, his face turning a paler shade of white.

"You know exactly what photos that I am talking about, asshole," Nancy spat.

Nancy had that fire still inside her from earlier, and she was using it now.

"I didn't - " Jonathan stuttered as he held his bag closer to him.

Before Jonathan knew it, Nancy had yanked the bag from him. She rifled through it and pulled out the photos victoriously. Nancy shoved the bag at him and started looking through the pictures. Barb peered over her should and paled at the sight of herself shirtless as she kissed Nancy. Now, she was uncomfortable. She felt Steve squeeze her hand.

"I - I was looking for my brother," Jonathan stuttered.

"No, this is called stalking," Steve said, looking at him in disbelief.

"I'm sure that it started out like that," Barb scoffed at Jonathan.

"Do you know how stupid it was that you developed these on school property? I mean, you could have locked the fucking door or something?!" Nancy asked furiously. "What would have happened if this had gotten out?"

Barb suddenly realized what Nancy was doing. She was protecting Barb this time instead of the other way around.

"I didn't think about that," Jonathan said.

"Clearly," Nancy scoffed.

"I just thought it was a good picture," he said meekly. "There was this girl who was trying to be someone else."

"That's bullshit!" Nancy and Barb exclaimed.

"You know, I thought that once, too. I thought Nancy was trying to be someone she wasn't. I realized that I was wrong. The simple fact is that she wanted to sleep with Steve, and eventually, I realized that I wanted to as well. I realized how exciting it was to explore a side of yourself that you didn't know was there. There's nothing artistic about the pictures that you took. You fucked up so you're trying to say anything to make you feel better about what you did. Steve didn't make us do anything that we didn't want to," Barb said. "I thought you were the kind of guy who would never do something like this."

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said.

"Well, I'm taking these photos," Nancy said and paused before snatching his camera as well. "I'm also taking this, and I will think about giving it back to you when I feel like you earned it."

"You want me to write an essay, too?" Jonathan scoffed.

"Come to think, yeah, you definitely should," Barb said. "Write until your fingers bleed. I want an in-depth analysis of why you thought it was okay to do that. . .I mean, after you find your brother safe and sound because I do get that you're going through something."

The three of them walked back to Barb's car with the camera and the photos in Nancy's hand.

"God, I wanted to smash his camera," Steve said.

"Yeah, so did I. Do you think he understands how close he came to outing us?" Barb asked.

"I mean, he did out us, but thankfully, Nicole is a decent person," Nancy said. "And I kind of wanted to smash it, too."

"Do you think we should tell him we're probably not going to bring the photos to the police?" Barb asked. "His mother has been through enough."

"Nah, let him sweat and think we are," Steve said grinning.

"Thank you for letting us handle that," Nancy said to Steve.

"Well, I thought about what Barb said about supporting my decision with Tommy and Carol. . .thought maybe I should do the same," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh, you're cute," Barb said.

"Yeah, how cute am I?" Steve asked.

"Get in the car, and I'll show you how cute I think you are," Barb said.

"Really?" Nancy asked, smiling at the two of them.

"Totally your fault, Nance, you showed me a new side of myself, and I like it," Barb said. "I like Steve."

"I like you, too," Steve said.

"Okay, well, let's focus on the photos," Nancy said and slapped the photo on the hood of Barb's car. "We got our proof."

There, in the photo, was the monster sniffing around the lawn chairs. It was hard to tell from the photo that Jonathan clearly accidentally took, but it was there.

"So, now, what?" Steve asked.

"Go home, and come up with a plan," Nancy said.

They jumped when they heard someone approaching them, and they whirled around, covering the photo. It was just Eddie Munson.

"We're not doing anything illegal!" Steve blurted out.

"Right," Eddie grinned. "I'm not a cop, you know."

"Obviously," Steve scoffed.

"Or maybe I am. Might be an undercover cop," Eddie said, twirling his keys in his hand. "Might have to arrest you on suspicion alone."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Steve replied. "And I might have believed that if I didn't remember you from middle school and just so you know, I'm really good at getting myself out of cuffs."

"Yeah, I bet you are, big boy," Eddie said, winking, got into his van, and drove off.

Barb and Nancy looked at Steve, scoffing.

"Really?"

"What?" Steve asked.

"Flirting with someone else right in front of us," Barb said.

"Classy, Steve," Nancy said.

"What? No! He means nothing to me!" Steve exclaimed. "And I didn't even know I was flirting with him! . . . You guys are messing with me, aren't you?"

Nancy and Barb giggled as they got into her car.

"Classy!"

Steve pulled up behind Barb in Nancy's driveway and followed after them into the house. Mrs. Wheeler greeted them at the door, chasing after Holly.

"Oh, hey, Barb, does your parents know you're here?" Mrs. Wheeler asked.

"I let them know before we left school," Barb said.

"And who is this?" Karen asked.

"Larry!" Holly exclaimed, hugging her leg.

"Oh, honey, I'm sure he came with his own name," Karen said. "He's not a stray cat."

"I'm Steve Harrington," he smiled. "But Holly can call me whatever she wants to."

"Larry!" She yelled. "I like your hair."

"I like yours, too," Steve said.

Holly giggled and ran off towards her room.

"Steve, is it?" Mrs. Wheeler asked. "Hm, that name sounds familiar."

"I'm sorry, mom," Nancy said. "I totally lied to you. Steve is my boyfriend. We just started dating, I didn't want to freak him out by introducing him to you so soon."

"You've got amazing daughters, Mrs. Wheeler," Steve said. "And Nancy's been treating me really great. Very respectful. I like her a lot."

"We like her too," Mrs. Wheeler said. "Well, sometimes."

"Mom!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Nancy, you didn't tell me your mom was so funny!" Steve laughed.

"She likes to think she is," Nancy muttered.

"No, Mrs. Wheeler is definitely hilarious," Barb said.

"Thank you, Barbara," Mrs. Wheeler said.

"They offered to help me study, I'm having difficulty in Chemistry," Steve said.

"Oh, well, you definitely came to the right people," Mrs. Wheeler said. "Do your parents know where you are?"

"Well, uh, my parents are out of town," Steve said. "I couldn't get a hold of them earlier."

"And is anyone staying with you?" Mrs. Wheeler asked with a frown.

"Just me," Steve said.

"Give me their number, I'll call them," Mrs. Wheeler said. "I'll also call Claudia Henderson and see if she'll be happy to take you in. I'm sure she will be."

Barb knew that look. It was the same determined look that Nancy had. She tried not to laugh when Steve immediately gave her the number. Nancy rolled her eyes at Steve's dumbfounded look before dragging them upstairs.

"What is she going to say to parents?" Steve asked.

"You probably don't want to know," Barb replied.

Steve threw himself onto Nancy's bed and grabbed the teddy bear on her bed, holding it to his chest.

"You really like that bear," Nancy said as she closed her door.

"It reminds me of the one I used to have. My grandfather gave it to me," Steve said.

"You don't have it anymore?" Barb asked.

"Nah, my dad gave it away because he said I was too old for it," Steve said.

"The more I hear about your dad. . .," Barb trailed off.

"The more you want to smash his camera?" Steve asked and Barb laughed.

She crawled onto the bed and leaned her back against the headboard. She pulled Steve to her chest and Steve sighed happily as he snuggled into her. Nancy laid down next to Barb.

"Okay, what's our plan?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know, I can't really think right now," Steve said. "I'm suddenly very sleepy."

"Well, we didn't get very much sleep last night," Barb smirked.

"We definitely didn't," Steve said.

"We have to come up with a plan, there's a monster out there," Nancy said. "We need to keep ourselves awake."

"I thought I was a lesbian," Barb said. "Until last night. Kind of thought Nancy was too."

"I thought I was too," Nancy giggled.

"Maybe we are lesbians but we're also stevesexual," Barb said.

"Oh, you're definitely stevesexual," Steve replied.

"That is NOT a word," Nancy laughed.

"Newsflash, Nance, all words are made up," Barb replied. "Lesbians existed before the word existed."

"You're definitely tired, Barbara," Nancy replied.

"No, no, she's onto something. I mean, you can call yourself anything," Steve said.

"I could call myself a pineapple if I wanted to," Barb teased.

"You can't!" Nancy giggled.

"Why the hell not?" Barb asked.

"Because I hate pineapples and I definitely don't hate you," she said.

"Hm, I guess I can't call myself a pineapple," Barb said and kissed Nancy. "I guess I only care about what's on the inside."

"Me too," Nancy said.

"You both have sexy hearts," Barb said, yawning.

"Yeah, we definitely need a nap," Nancy said.

"A real nap?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, a real nap, Steven."

When they woke up, it was dark outside, and Nancy's bedroom door was wide open. Mrs. Wheeler had been in here. The three of them wandered downstairs to find Mrs. Wheeler standing in the entryway, hugging Mike as he cried.

"Mom? Did they find Will?" Nancy asked and Mike's sobs grew louder.

The next morning was a somber affair, and the three of them stood in the parking lot before school once again.

"I had hoped that they wouldn't have found him like that," Barb said.

"Yeah, me too," Steve said.

"I should have stayed, but Mike insisted that he was fine and that I should go to school," Nancy said. "I feel weird being here knowing how upset he is."

"Well, you want to skip, and we can go check on him?" Steve asked.

"That's a sweet offer, but I want to respect his space, too," Nancy said. "He'll come to me if he needs me. I let him know that I'll be there for him when he's ready."

"I never know what to say in situations like this. Everything feels like it's - " Steve started to say.

"Like it's not enough?" Barb asked.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

"Didn't your dad offer to do the same thing?" Barb asked.

"He did, according to mom. He's still dad," Nancy smiled.

"What does that mean?" Steve asked.

"Lately, he's been stuck in his chair and a lot more lethargic. I'm worried that he might have a tumor or something," Nancy said.

"Or maybe he's having a hard time at work," Barb suggested.

"Maybe," Nancy sighed. "So this monster. . .I'm starting to think that it might have something to do with Will's disappearance. I know they said he fell into the quarry, and maybe he did. . .or maybe he was chased into the quarry by something."

"Like the monster, you mean?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Nancy said.

"Yeah, I can see that," Steve said. "I don't see us approaching Will's mom about this so. . ."

"That leaves Jonathan," Barb said, rolling her eyes. "This is so going to be so awkward. So, Steve, how was it staying with the Hendersons?"

"Well, Claudia is amazing. Dustin's a little shit but somehow, at the same time, it's endearing," Steve said, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"Congratulations, Steve, you just got yourself a bouncing baby brother," Nancy said. "It's both wonderful and stressful at the same time. You're going to love it."

When they did find Jonathan, he was picking out caskets for his brother. So, yeah, it's very awkward. She still hated him for what he did, but she was a big enough person to also feel sympathy for the situation that he was in. They pulled him into the entryway where Nancy showed him a picture of the monster.

"I thought my mom was crazy," Jonathan said. "She kept going on about a monster without a face, a monster in the walls, and I - I didn't believe her."

"You didn't know," Nancy said softly.

"All three of you saw it?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, it was definitely gunning for Barb's blood," Steve said.

"Well, that's disturbing," Jonathan said.

Barb bit back a retort. He would know what's disturbing, wouldn't he?

"Okay, so, what do we do? Do we tell someone or try to kill it ourselves?" Barb asked.

"How would we kill it?" Jonathan asked. "We don't have anything. I mean, my dad has a Smith & Wesson."

"Well, we know Chlorine hurts the fucker. Fire generally kills most things," Barb said.

"I don't know if I can do this right now," Jonathan muttered.

"Well, that's understandable," Nancy said. "We can figure it out later."

"Do you mind - ?" Jonathan asked.

"Of course. Just let us know if you need anything," Nancy said.

"Thanks," Jonathan said. "I can do this by myself."

Nancy squeezed his arm and exited the funeral home with her partners.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Steve said to Nancy. "Even after everything he's done, you're still willing to help him."

"It's nothing," Nancy said, bashfully.

"You're a bigger person than I am," Barb grinned. "You and that sexy heart of yours."

"Okay, so, after the funeral tomorrow we gather the supplies and we hunt this fucker down," Nancy said. "Hopefully, we can get the gun from Jonathan."

"You're really determined to take this monster down," Barb said.

"It came after my brother's friend, and then it tried to come after you," Nancy said. "I want to kill it."

"I love you," Barb said.

The next day, Barb was getting dressed for Will's funeral when her mother entered her bedroom.

"So, you and Nancy have been hanging out with Steve Harrington lately," her mother said.

"Where are you going with this, mom?" Barb asked.

"Well, you've complained a lot about him in the past," she said.

"Turns out Tommy and Carol were the assholes," Barb said. "I made a snap judgment of him. He wasn't who I thought he was. . .in a good way, though."

"Well, we all sort of do it," she said.

"He dumped his supposed friends for us," Barb beamed.

"Well, I'm glad," she said.

"Okay, mom, what's this all about?" Barb asked.

"You know you can talk to us about anything, right?" She asked. "We'll always love you, no matter what. I'm not trying to push you into talking about anything. I just want you to know we're here for you whenever you're ready."

"Okay, mom, what do you know?" Barb asked.

"What? Me? I don't know anything," she said innocently.

"Mom! Do you know about me, Steve, and Nancy?" Barb asked.

"Oh, well, yes," She said.

"It's only been like three days!" Barb exclaimed.

"And you were very obvious, dear," she said. "With the way you talked about them. We've known about you and Nancy even longer, and we were alright with it. I mean, we figured you girls would share everything, although we never expected an entire person."

"So, what? Like half a person, then?" Barb asked sarcastically.

"Barbara!" She chuckled.

"Why are you saying this now?" Barb asked.

"Well, we wanted to wait and give you time to come to us on your own, but with Will dying. . .you never know how much time you have left with your children. We both wanted you to feel accepted," She said.

"Oh, mommy," she said softly. "I love you so much. . .where's dad?"

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry!" Her father's voice floated in from the hallway.

"He started crying before we even came in here," she said. "He loves you so much."

"This was supposed to be all about you, I did not want to make it about myself again!" Her father sobbed.

"Daddy, get in here!" Barb laughed.

Her father shuffled in, his face red from crying. She smiled and hugged her father tightly. God, she had the best parents in the world. Her mother clapped and quickly joined the hug. She shouldn't be this happy going to a funeral, especially for a kid. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of the Steve and Nancy. She quickly made herself look sad, though, as she stood beside them. She looked at Joyce and Jonathan. God, they looked so heartbroken. . .so lost. Joyce was glaring at the casket as if she didn't believe what was in there. Maybe it wasn't Will. Maybe somehow he was still alive somewhere, maybe it was a fake body lying in that coffin. Barb wanted it to he true for Joyce's sake.

"I want to kill it," Jonathan said.

They had gathered together after the funeral to talk about what they were going to do. Nancy had brought a map to look to track where the monster might be going.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Yes," Jonathan said.

"What about your mom?" Barb asked.

"I'll tell her after this thing is dead," Jonathan said.

After the funeral, they all got dressed and ran off to gather more supplies. Jonathan had managed to steal his father's gun, but they still needed a bigger arsenal. Nancy managed to bring her bat from home, and Barb managed to swipe a couple of knives from her mother's collection.

"Your mother likes knives?" Steve asked Barb.

"Oh, yeah," Nancy laughed. "It's impressive, actually."

"So, you better not break my heart or Nancy's," Barb whispered.

"Noted," Steve laughed, and they moved through the aisle. "So, why aren't we telling an adult about this again?"

"My mom's not in the right headspace," Jonathan said.

"Are you in the right headspace?" Steve asked.

"I have to be," Jonathan said.

"Hm, I've had Dustin Henderson as a sort of brother for like five seconds, but I think I'd kill for him," Steve said. "I don't what it's like to have a brother, though I've always wanted one. I can imagine that it must be nice."

"How come you don't have a brother?" Jonathan asked.

"I asked my dad that once when I was like eight, and he said my gigantic head ruined my mother for him," Steve said.

"Jesus," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not that big," Steve said.

"I'm talking about your dad. What an asshole," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, I never got why she's still with him," Steve said.

"Never really understood why my mom stayed with my dad for so long either," Jonathan said. "She's always said that sometimes good things come out of bad situations."

"Like you and your brother?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, I guess she was talking about us," Jonathan said.

Barbara smiled at them, glad that Steve was making a better friend in Jonathan who actually seemed genuinely sorry that he took those photos. Still, he had a lot to prove. Once they got to the counter, the guy there looked at them funny.

"What are you guys planning to do with all this?" He asked.

"Monster hunting," Nancy replied.

Luckily, the guy thought it was a joke. . .or he really didn't want to know. Either way, they managed to get out of there without any more questions and quickly loaded it in the back of Steve’s car.

"It's weird. Just a few days ago, Barb and I were shopping to find a sweater that I thought that Steve would like," Nancy said.

"Really?" Steve asked.

"Oh, I told her that you probably wouldn't care," Barb said.

"Anything purple or pink, really," Steve said, and they looked at him. "It just seems like it's your favorite color. You like beam more when you wear them."

"Blue's one of my favorites, too," Nancy replied.

"So, what's the weirdest part about all of this? The monster hunting or hanging out with me?" Jonathan asked.

"Oh, definitely, you," Nancy, Barb, and Steve all laughed.

Jonathan was about to reply when someone drove by and stuck their head out the window to yell at them.

"Hey, Nance, I can't wait to see your movie!" And they didn't wait for a response.

"What the hell?" Steve asked.

They followed Nancy to the Hawk. Spray painted on the theater under "All the Right Moves" were the words written in spray paint: starring Nancy "the slut" Wheeler.

"Oh, someone's going to be dead," Barb scowled. "Or at least they wish they were."

They followed the sound of spray paints and laughter to the alleyway beside the theater. Of course, it was Tommy and Carol.

"Hey, assholes!" Steve yelled.

Things did not get better after that. Nancy slapped Tommy, Tommy said words to both Jonathan and Steve while Barb yelled at Carol for words she said about Nancy. Jonathan had thrown the first punch at Tommy, who swung back and knocked him on his ass before turning on Steve. He had Steve on the ground, who fought well, but Tommy fought harder. He kept hitting Steve even when Steve could barely get a word in. Nancy and Barb screamed, trying to get Tommy off of Steve. Jonathan managed to get back up and pulled Tommy off of Steve. He hit him and kept hitting him until Tommy was the one on his back. Jonathan didn't even notice that the cops had shown up, and he accidentally hit one. That's how they all ended up at the police station.

"Steve, are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Barb asked as she held ice to his eye.

"I'm fine, really," Steve said. "I just want to make sure that Jonathan doesn't go to jail."

"Thanks, man, but you don't have to do that," Jonathan said.

"Nah, I'm good," Steve said. "Really."

"That lady doesn't know what she's talking about," Nancy told Jonathan as she did the same with his eye.

"Yeah, you punched the douche because he was insulting your family," Steve said, and then he frowned. "I wonder if that would have been me, you know, if things hadn't changed, you know, if I hadn't walked away from them. . ."

"You can't think of the what ifs, Steve," Barb said. "They'll eat you alive, but you would have gotten there eventually, and you wouldn't have been nearly as cruel as Tommy."

"I do have to admit that you're a good guy," Jonathan mumbled.

"Coming from Jonathan Byers, that's a compliment," Steve smiled. "I think, anyway. . .you're not entirely bad yourself."

"I really am sorry about the photos, you know, and my reaction to taking them. . .there's really no excuse," Jonathan said.

"Well, you really proved yourself back there," Nancy said.

"You totally did," Barb said.

"Saved my ass, man," Steve said.

"Does that mean that I'll get my camera back?" He asked.

"You still have an essay to write," Nancy said.

"You're serious about that?" He asked.

"Oh, yeah," Barb and Nancy said, giggling.

"Why is my son in cuffs?!" They heard Joyce Byers yell. "Take them off!"

"He assaulted a police officer, ma'am," Callahan said.

"Take them off! Now!" Joyce yelled at them, Chief Hopper coming in behind her.

"You heard her, take them off," Hopper said.

Callahan sighed and took the cuffs off of Jonathan.

"There's something you should see, Chief," Powell said.

Barb shared a look with the others. Shit, they were going to look in the trunk. Powell led Hopper outside, and a moment later, they came back, looking even more serious.

"Care to explain why you have all of that?" Hopper asked Jonathan.

"You won't believe us," he said.

"Why don't you give us a try?" Hopper asked.

Barb, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan squeezed into the chief's office, away from prying eyes. Hopper was looking at the photo of the monster.

"And this thing is drawn to blood?" Hopper asked.

"Well, that's the theory," Nancy said. "Not really a theory, I guess, because it smelled Barb's blood and tried to go after her. It would have, too, if it hadn't fallen into the pool."

"And if I hadn't been hanging out with Steve and Nancy inside," Barb said.

"Is this the only photo?" Hopper asked.

"The only photo of the monster," Nancy replied as she shoved Jonathan's camera and the other photos into her bag.

"Why does Nancy have your camera?" Joyce asked.

"I'm letting her borrow it for a school project," Jonathan said, blushing, and Joyce looked at him doubtfully.

"Let's go talk in the hallway," Joyce said and pulled him out of the room.

"You do realize that it was unbelievable dangerous to try and go after this thing by yourselves?" Hopper asked.

"Yeah, we always knew that, but it didn't seem like anyone was trying to stop this thing, and honestly, I wanted to get it before it got me or anyone else I cared about," Barb said.

"I definitely wasn't going to let it get Barb," Nancy said.

"Me neither. . .also, there is no way that I was going to be able to sleep in that empty house with that thing on the loose," Steve said.

"Empty? Where are your parents?" Hopper asked.

"Oh, out of town," Steve said.

"Did they say when they'll be back?" He asked.

"I don't know. That kind of depends on whether my dad cheats on my mom again," Steve said. "If he does, they usually stay longer."

"Are you expecting a call from them anytime soon?" Hopper asked.

"When they can remember to, they'll call, so no," Steve said, and Hopper clenched his fists. "Did I say something wrong?"

Hopper sighed, unclenched his fists, and squeezed Steve’s shoulders gently.

"No, kid, you didn't," Hopper said.

"We should definitely make you staying with Claudia a permanent thing," Nancy said.

"I'm definitely going to look into that," Hopper said.

"Shouldn't we be focusing on the monster?" Steve asked, blushing.

It wasn't hard to figure out that the girl with the powers that Joyce and Hopper had been looking for was with Nancy's brother and his friends. When they showed up to Nancy's house, there were tons of vans parked out front and people in suits searching the place. Nancy moved towards her house, but Barb and Steve grabbed her hands.

"That's my house!" Nancy exclaimed.

"They haven't found him yet," Steve said.

"That's true. Look, Nance," Barb said, pointing at the helicopters. "They're still looking for him.

"They're right," Hopper said.

"All that's for Mike?" Nancy asked, stunned.

"Do you have any idea where they might go?" Joyce asked them.

"No," Jonathan said. "But I know how we might find out."

Barb and Nancy went with Steve in his car while Jonathan went off with his parents. Jonathan might as well call Hopper his dad, Barb thought. Jonathan looked at Hopper like he was the first man who came through for him in his entire life, and he was doing it all to help his family. It was a shock when they showed up to the Byer home to find it a complete mess with a hole in the wall and Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling. Joyce had been really desperate to find her son. Not that Barb had blamed her, considering the lengths that Nancy was going to in order to keep her safe. They managed to make contact with the kids, and the rest of them stayed behind while Hopper went to pick up the kids. When they finally returned, night had fallen. Barb watched with a smile as Nancy ran out to greet her brother.

"Steve!" Dustin exclaimed and ran to him, hugging him as tightly as Nancy hugged Mike.

"Looks like someone made an impression," Barb teased Steve and then turned to Dustin. "And if you're lucky, you might get to keep him."

"Cool! I always wanted an older brother! What happened to your face?" Dustin asked.

"My former friend Tommy didn't like that I started hanging out with people who are cooler than he is," Steve said.

"What a mouth breather," Dustin scowled.

"You said it," Steve grinned and placed his hand on his head. "Glad you're okay."

They all moved into the house where the boys explained to them about the Upside Down and how El was able to get a glimpse into the other world with her powers. It angered Barb to no end that this girl had been raised in a lab her entire life and experimented on. That was the only life she had ever known, and she had been taken from her mother in order to be turned into a weapon. As a babysitter and a human being, she couldn't understand how people could do that. . .use children as a weapon for their own cruel reasons. The difference here, with them using El, was that they made sure El knew what she was getting into and that it was her choice to do this. It was how they ended up at the middle school, preparing a homemade deprivation tank for El's power.

"It's crazy what you kids went through," Steve said to Mike as he went with him, Nancy, and Barb to grab the hoses. "I would have been terrified. How high does your IQ have to be to have outrun those suits?"

"It was a group effort," Mike shrugged.

"No, you're definitely smart," Barb said. "But you also got lucky like we did. We could have definitely used you on our team."

Barb could feel Nancy smiling at both her and Steve. She just wanted to let Mike know that he should probably contact them next time without telling out right that he needed a babysitter.

"I thought you hated Steve, Barb," Mike said.

"Well, I just didn't know him," Barb said. "Plus, there's nothing like a nine foot tall monster with a flower face to really bring you together."

And there really wasn't. Oh, she wished Mike wasn't looking so she could kiss both Steve and Nancy. Nancy picked up a rock and smashed open the lock to the shed. Using a wheelbarrow, they pushed the hoses up back to the school.

"So, do you like El now?" Nancy asked.

"What?! Ew! No, gross!" Mike scowled and Steve laughed. "Do you like Jonathan now?"

"What?! No! We-I'm dating Steve," Nancy said.

Barb shared an amused smile with Steve. It was going to come out eventually, but maybe now wasn't the best time. Barb knew how much Nancy cared about Mike and his friends. They had spent many occasions babysitting them together. She remembered when Nancy had dressed up for their D&D game once. She had remembered it so vividly because she remembered the way Mike's eyes shined when his big sister, whom he looked up to, did that for him. Mike and Nancy were so different but also so alike in so many ways. Barb could see that Steve was starting to pick up on the fact that Nancy cared about these kids. She could see it in Steve's eyes: the admiration for the drive and the compassion that Nancy had. The fact that he could also see that she wasn't perfect either and that she tried to be. In that aspect, Nancy and Steve were alike. Barb couldn't help but watch Steve look at Nancy so fondly.

"Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked, and she glanced away for a moment.

"Skin, moles," Barb replied. "Lots of moles."

"Haha, hilarious," Steve said.

"You're good," Barb smiled.

Steve smiled and brushed his shoulder against hers, letting their fingers touch for a moment. They walked back into the gym and helped set up the tank. Barb sat down in between Steve and Nancy, watching as El was lowered down into the pool. Barb squeezed both of their hands as they awaited to see what El found. She hoped they found that little boy, and Barb chose to focus on that rather than the fact it could have been her in there as well. The lights flickered as El continued to search for the boy and even more so when she found him alive, but barely hanging on. It was a rush for Chief Hopper and Joyce to run off towards the lab to enter the gate through the Upside Down. Jonathan had tried to go with them, but Joyce had pleaded with them to stay.

Barb had wandered back into the gym to find the kids huddled up together on the bleachers. Barb smiled at the sight of El resting her head on Mike's shoulder while Lucas patted her back, making sure the towel was secure around her shoulders, while Dustin reached over to squeeze her knee. It looked like El was going to get to some great friends out of this and maybe even a family, too. Judging by the way that Hopper and Joyce had guided her, Barb had a feeling that they were somehow going to end up as El's parents. She wandered over to them.

"How are you guys holding up?" Barb asked.

"You are Barbara," El said.

"Yeah, but you can call me Barb," she replied.

"Barb," she said, and then she pointed at herself. "El."

"I know, it was pretty cool what you did back there. You did a very good thing even though you didn't have to," Barb said.

"I had to," El said.

"Nancy said the demogorgon almost came after you," Mike said.

"Well, I cut my hand, and I guess some of it dropped by the pool," Barb frowned. "It was drawn by that tiny drop. I'm just thankful it fell in the pool."

"And that you were hanging out with Steve and Nancy. What were you guys doing, anyway?" Mike asked.

"Oh, you know, speaking of Steve and Nancy. I, uh, I'm going to see what they're doing," Barb said, blushing. "I'll be back."

Bullet dodged. Hopefully, they'll forget that question when she gets back. She wandered towards the entrance of the gym, where she found Nancy talking with Jonathan and Steve.

"What did I miss?" Barb asked.

"Nancy wants to finish off the demogorgon," Steve replied.

"It needs to die. Even if we can't kill it, we can at least distract it so it doesn't go after Hopper and Joyce in the Upside Down," Nancy replied.

"Yeah, okay, but what about the kids? They can't stay here by themselves. Those assholes could come back for them at any time," Steve said.

"Well, it's Jonathan's house, so maybe I should go with Jonathan and Steve if you want to stay here with the kids. . .yeah, they definitely need someone looking out for them," Nancy said.

"And Steve will need help looking after the kids. I'll stay here," Barb said.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"About as sure as you are about killing this thing," Barb said.

"It came after you, Barbara, I'm not going to let it do it again," Nancy said.

Barb smiled and kissed her. Nancy smiled against her lips and wrapped her arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. Barb pulled her in closer, her hands gripping Nancy's waist. She tried not to cry and tried not to think that this might be their last kiss. They pulled away, and Nancy leaned her forehead against Barb's for a moment before pulling her out of her arms. They gave Steve the baseball bat and the box of nails with a hammer.

"We got more and another bat in the trunk. Go nuts," Jonathan said.

Steve grinned and nodded at him. Nancy moved in front of him.

"Be careful, look after each other," Nancy said.

"You, too," Steve said.

Nancy kissed him as desperately as she kissed Barb, and Steve nearly dropped the stuff in his arms. He managed to kiss her back. Nancy pulled away before climbing into the car with Jonathan. Barb stood next to Steve as they watched him drive away. Barb turned to him.

"It was really great that you were worried about the kids," Barb said.

"Well, they shouldn't have to go through this alone," Steve said.

Barb studied him. She imagined a young Steve home by himself, wondering when his parents would remember to call. . .wondering when they would decide to be there for him.

"No, they shouldn't," Barb said.

She took the stuff out of his arms and set them on the floor. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him just as deeply as she kissed Nancy. Steve pulled back and pressed his forehead against Barb's.

"She's going to be okay," Steve said.

"I know," Barb whispered.

"Oh my god! You guys really do share everything!" They heard Mike yell, and they both laughed.

Barb ushered Mike inside with the other kids. Steve immediately went to work hammering in the nails in the bat. The kids had crowded around Steve, watching him work. Steve held up the bat when he was finished.

"What do you think?" Steve asked.

"Awesome!" Lucas, Mike, and Dustin exclaimed.

"Yeah, awesome," El breathed.

Steve moved away from them, twirled the bat, and started practicing his swinging. He started doing all sorts of things with it. He dove, he dodged, and weaved as though he was fighting off an invisible force. The kids clapped and cheered when he rolled across the gym floor, jumping up to swing the bat like the demogorgon was there. Steve came to a stop, leaned on his bat, and winked at Barb. She rolled her eyes, smiling. He was clearly showing off for the kids.

"I'm not impressed," Barb teased. "You're such a dork."

"What? No, Barb! That was totally cool!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Don't you think Steve’s a douchebag?" Mike asked Lucas.

"Not anymore," Lucas said.

"Anyone could do that," Mike rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit, Mike! You couldn't do that!" Dustin exclaimed. "Just admit that it was cool. He's a total paladin."

"Okay, I'd admit that it was cool, but I'm not going to call him a paladin," Mike said.

"You guys are hilarious," Steve said. "Definitely a lot cooler than I am."

The kids ended up dragging Steve and Barb into the cafeteria to pilfer the pudding the lunch lady had been hoarding.

"You're not going to tell on us?" Dustin asked Barb.

"Why would I?" Barb asked as she swiped a pudding cup. "If we're going to die, might as well die with pudding in our stomachs."

"That's the spirit," Dustin grinned. "I keep telling Mike you're the coolest babysitter ever. He's such a pessimist."

"Nancy can be a little pessimist herself," Barb smiled.

"Steve, if you really want to learn how to be a really cool babysitter, Barb knows," Dustin said and walked off.

"Did you hear that? You're a really cool babysitter," Steve said bumping her hip with his.

"You're not so bad yourself. You'll get there with a little help," Barb grinned.

They had only a moment of peace before the assholes from the lab found them. They dropped the pudding cups, and Barb led the kids down the hallway with Steve behind them all. She had her knives out, prepared to stab anyone in case they decided to come after the kids. Steve had his trusty bat in his hands. They got as far as they could, but the bad men had them covered on either side of the hallway. They had guns. Barb and Steve stood on either side of the kids, back to back practically. A woman moved forward and Barb didn't hestitate to take a slice off that bitch. The woman didn't hesitate to pistol whip Barb, knocking her glasses off of her face.

"Barb!" Steve hollered.

El moved forward, focusing on the agents, and the lights flickered over head. Blood trickled from El's nose at the same time that blood started pouring the bad mens' eyes, noses, and mouths. Their necks snapped at the same time, and they fell to the ground in unison. Head still ringing, Barb quickly picked up her glasses and put them back on her face as El collapsed.

"El!" Barb exclaimed and moved to her side.

That's when he showed up. A man with white hair who was tall and very forboding. A chill shot down Barb's back at the sight of him. He was just as terrifying as the demogorgon. Steve rushed to Barb's side but was grabbed and held by an agent at the same time that Barb was grabbed by another one. They fought hard against their grips as they took Barb's knives and held Steve's bat. Barb noted with a smile that one of their leg's was bleeding heavily. Steve had gotten one of them with the bat. The white-haired man approached El and cradled her in his arms.

"Papa," El muttered.

"Let her go, you son of a bitch! She's not your property. She's a human being, and she doesn't deserve to be treated ~," Barb started to say but was pistol whipped again.

"Don't you fucking hurt her!" Steve yelled and he was given the same treatment.

Barb could feel blood drip down from her forehead as Steve spat blood from his mouth. She yelled and yanked her head backward, butting the person in the face with it. He yelled, letting go of one of her arms, and she elbowed him in the stomach, making him let go of her other arm. She pulled the knives out of his belt and thrust it into his neck. He dropped to the ground just as another agent tried to grab for her but he froze when they all heard a loud growling sound. The agents let the kids and Steve go to pull out their guns. The white haired guy dropped El as the demogorgon appeared.

"Oh, shit," Steve yelled and grabbed his bat. "RUN!"

Steve hit the strange man in the leg and picked up El before he could, handing off the bat to Barb, who took it gladly. The kids took off ahead of them, and they ran into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind them to hide. Barb stood protectively in front of the kids and Steve as the demogorgon caught up with them. El wiggled out of Steve's arms and moved towards the monster, Mike screaming her name. She held out her hand and pushed the monster back with her powers, slamming it into the chalkboard. They watched as El destroyed the monster along with herself, nothing left behind but dark ash. Mike stood there, stunned as he looked at the disfigured chalkboard.

"Mike," Barb said softly as she stood up.

Mike threw himself into her arms, crying. El was dead, but so was the monster. Barb held Mike tightly, pressing her cheek into his hair as his entire body shook with sobs. Steve tentively walked up beside her, Dustin curled up against his side, and he placed a hand on Mike's shoulder. Lucas patted Mike on the back, sniffling as well.

"Physically. . . is everyone okay?" Steve asked.

"Better than you and Barb," Lucas said.

They moved through the school, making their way past the dead, bloody bodies, and out into the fresh air. Barb held Mike to her side, gripping Steve's bat in her hand. They weren't sure who had called them, but the ambulances and the cops had shown up pretty quickly. It wasn't long before their parents had shown up. . .well, everyone except Steve's.

"Barbara!" her mother shrieked. "Oh, look at you!"

Her parents hugged her tightly as Mike's parents did the same with him. Barb couldn't explain to her parents what had happened. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to explain anything except for the fact that Steve had helped save their lives.

"Barb! Where's Nancy?!" Karen asked and she snapped out of it.

"Jonathan's house," Barb replied.

"Dusty!" she could recognize Claudia Henderson's shriek from anywhere and then: "Steve!"

To Steve's surprise, Claudia had pulled him into a hug along with Dustin. Barb smirked. It looked like Steve was going to have a family that he always secretly wished he had. Barb frowned. That should be El, too, with Hopper and the Byers. . .did they find Will?

LATER. . .IN THE HOSPITAL. . .

Barb and the others met everyone there, including Nancy. Barb had pulled Nancy into a hug along with Steve while Jonathan stood off to the side.

"Hey! You, too! You're not getting out of this," Steve said to Jonathan.

"Me?" Jonathan asked.

Barb laughed as Steve rolled his eyes before pulling Jonathan into the group hug. Joyce laughed at the look on her son's face.

"The doctors are looking over Will now. It's probably going to be a while, so if you guys want to go home. . ." Joyce said.

"Nonsense, Joyce," Karen said. "We'll be here as long as you need us."

Nancy quickly pulled Steve, Jonathan, and Barb off to the side.

"Barb. . .your eye and forehead. . ." Nancy whispered.

"Oh, I totally killed that guy," Barb said.

"Yeah, no, she really killed him," Steve said, nodding at the look on Nancy's face.

"In other news, Mom's letting me keep her knives," Barb said.

"You totally pull them off," Steve muttered.

"And so, El is for sure. . ." Nancy trailed off.

"Yeah," Barb said, glancing at Mike. "It was awful."

"Poor Mike, she was the first girl he liked, I can't imagine watching that," Nancy said.

"He's going to need a lot of help," Steve said.

"Yeah," Jonathan said as they all looked at the kids. "We all are. . .uh, if you don't mind, I'm going to wait with my mom."

"Well, we'll be here," Barb said.

"Does this - does this mean we're friends?" Jonathan asked.

Barb studied him for a moment. She could see it in his eyes, how desperately he was trying to hide the hope he was feeling.

"Yeah, it does," Barb said.

"All of us," Steve said.

"We're still expecting that essay," Nancy said, her eyes twinkling.

"Whenever you're ready," Barb said.

Jonathan walked over to his mother and sat down next to her, holding her hand. Barb, Nancy, and Steve sat in the corner of the waiting room near Nancy's parents. Nancy and Barb leaned as close to Steve as possible, discreetly brushing their pinkies up against Steve’s. Barb glanced over at Nancy, who was resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. It's crazy how things changed. . . It was crazy how that image would have annoyed her, but now all it did was give her warm fuzzy feelings in her stomach. . .

SUMMER OF '84

Barb was sprawled out in Jonathan's room, Steve between her legs with his back to her chest, and his head tucked underneath her head. Nancy was holding his hand while Barb stroked his nose with her finger. It was a complete accident that they discovered that you could calm Steve Harrington down if you just stroked his nose. It also helped to look at the blanket that hung on Jonathan's wall. Something to do with the colors. Steve was peculiar, as it turns out, like they were. Jonathan walked into the room and handed him a glass of water.

"You know, my mom did these breathing exercises when she was giving birth to Will, if you need help with your own delivery," Jonathan said in amusement.

"Shut up, Byers," Steve said as he took a drink of water.

"With your legs spred like that, it does look like you're giving birth," Barb said with a giggle.

"Nancy, tell our girlfriend that she's supposed to be helping me," Steve said.

"Sorry," Nancy said.

"Some friends you are," Steve said and smiled. "I don't even know why I'm freaking out. My parents are getting divorced so, what?! I mean, this is what I wanted, right?"

"Well, change can be scary even if it's what you wanted," Nancy said. "I mean, you must have been scared when you finally dumped Tommy and Carol."

"That's true," Jonathan said. "I mean, even though I wanted Lonnie gone and out of the house, it wasn't like he was totally useless. He did bring some things to the table, and it was scary that we were being left with this vaccum that we didn't know how to fill. We did manage to find a way to work around it, though."

"I just don't want what I have now to disappear, you know. I want to keep living with Claudia and Dustin," Steve said.

"Does your mom seem like the kind of person to take you away from them?" Nancy asked.

"No, in fact, she likes coming over now, and it's totally weird having her around all the time," Steve said. "And I guess I just don't want to get my hopes up that she'll stay."

"Well, it's not crazy to worry about that either," Nancy said. "I'm sure it's an adjustment."

"I'm sure it's going to work out and if your mom does try to take you away, we'll just kidnap you and bring you back," Barb said.

"Aw, you'll break the law for me?" Steve said.

"I think all of us would," Nancy said.

"Tommy and Carol never would have broken the law for me," Steve said.

"Their loss is our gain," Barb said.

Barb actually liked him like this, just utterly and completely melting into their arms. No one but them knew what Steve Harrington was really like, not even Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. Steve wanted to be soft and small. He never really wanted the attention. He just didn't want to be alone. Jonathan was similar, but he had pushed people away rather than surround himself by the wrong people. He had his graded essay hung up on the wall to remind himself what kind of person, of what kind of photogropher that he wanted to be along with pictures of his new friends.

"I guess I don't have anything to worry about," Steve said. "Thanks for letting me freak out. Tommy would have just told me to stop being a crybaby."

"You really like reminding us that we're better for you than Tommy and Carol, huh?" Nancy teased.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "You all are."

"Well, you've been there enough of all of our freak outs," Jonathan said. "We've promised to be there for each other so. . .we're here."

"Oh, speaking of my mother coming over all the time," Steve said. "She's also been talking to Claudia a lot."

"Well, we figured," Nancy said. "So, what did Claudia say to make Maggie realize she should have probably divorced that jackass a long time ago?"

"Maybe it was Claudia," Barb said. "Or maybe it was the fact that she had come home and realized that her son had moved out?"

"Maybe it was both," Steve said. "Anyway, Dustin told me that he saw something the other night that made him think that there might be something between my mom and his."

"Oh, that would be perfect," Nancy gasped. "You both would get two wonderful mothers, and maybe your mom would move in there!"

"It would be great, wouldn't it?" Steve asked.

"So, what was it that Dustin saw exactly?" Barb asked as she wrapped her arms around Steve.

"Well, he said it was the way they looked at each other," Steve said. "I think he just wants to have two mothers."

"And to keep his favorite brother around," Barb said.

"Maybe," Steve grinned. "So, right before school ended, I overheard a couple of jocks whispering about Eddie Munson. Apparently, it's a possibility that Higgins blackmailed Munson into dropping out, and that's why the jocks have been out for him as well as Hellfire."

"Well, apparently, he failed because Eddie's coming back next year," Jonathan said.

"Really?" Nancy asked. "And how do you know that?"

"I just know," Jonathan blushed.

"It has nothing to do with the weed that fell out of your bag earlier?" Steve asked.

"Okay, so maybe Eddie's been selling me weed, and we've been talking," Jonathan said.

"So, you're friends?" Nancy asked.

"He defended my brother against some mouthbreathers and took a baseball that was meant for him," Jonathan said, his face turning a deeper red.

"Oh, so, you want to be more than friends," Barb teased.

"I mean, maybe, he is cute," Jonathan said.

"And it definitely doesn't hurt that he stuck up for your brother," Steve said.

"It's a huge plus," he said.

"Well, it sounds like Higgins has it out for your boyfriend," Steve said.

"We should definitely do something about that," Nancy said.

"Ooh, does this sound like a case for the monster hunting squad?" Barb asked.

"Ooh, I love Nancy Drew," Steve said. "It's perfect. Jonathan and Nancy are already on the paper. Maybe we should join, too, Barb?"

"And what would you do on the paper?" Barb teased.

"Hey, I could learn to be a sports writer," Steve said.

"That's true," Barb said thoughtfully.

"That could work," Nancy said. "Especially, when you start asking questions in the locker room."

Nancy got up and grabbed a journal off of Jonathan's desk. She plopped down in between Steve's leg and leaned against his chest.

"Alright. . .let's get to work, we have a mystery to solve. . ."

[dirkxcaliborn]

scanlations are so funny

"hi I'm picking up this series!!! btw I'm TLing from thai bc I couldn't find the jp raws, oh and also I don't know thai or japanese ^_^ ok enjoy!!!!!!!!"

[immamapletreekid]

instead of grinding for finals i lost hours to a one piece wiki spiral

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo ����

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[shaisuki]

SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ

𝗕𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗦

FT. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER

content warnings: babytrapping, sabotage, brief chap. 260 spoilers, implied abuse, abandonment issues, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, smut.

synopsis: kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.

“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”

that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.

he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.

“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.

“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.

you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.

everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.

your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.

he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.

he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.

“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.

michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.

he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.

“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.

sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.

“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.

the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.

building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.

all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.

a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.

“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”

sugar pills.

sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.

michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.

as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.

it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader

ミ☆Headcanon#3𓏲

(Warnings: Contains mpreg (bxg pairing, YES, boy x fem reader), and matriarchal themes/gender role reverse so don't interact if you are not comfortable!! ‎♡‧₊˚)

♥︎ Headcanon #2

🍭"Narin, just one more paragraph, c'mon. Then we can go get some ice cream."

"You know, you're the cruellest wife anyone could have. Making me do assignments in this condition."

"What condition? You're fine, Narin. You're not even the one typing your essay. Just one more paragraph, c'mon, you can do it." He acts as if he's in his last months, when he’s only three weeks in. After another exaggerated sigh, he finally gave in, and you closed the laptop with relief.

"It's your last semester. Just get it done, and then your lifelong dream of staying home will come true."

"Are you taking me out for that ice cream or not?" You chuckled, getting up and offering him a hand. "Let's go."

Narin finally got what he wanted after so long, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of university. Still, the thought of becoming a father—of your child—filled him with uncontrollable excitement. He just prayed that your family wouldn’t cast an evil eye on the baby. Hmph! Lost in thought, he unconsciously placed his hands over his stomach as you drove, unaware of the silent storm brewing within him.

Meanwhile, your mind was all over the place. First, an unexpected husband, and now a child on the way?! You couldn't stop worrying about the future. You never imagined yourself as a mother, especially not with a husband like Narin, who could barely take care of himself. Maybe he would mature once the baby was born... or would you just have two kids to look after instead? How did this even happen? Weren’t you both careful? Wasn’t he taking pills, too? Well, it didn’t matter now. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, hands protectively resting on his stomach, looking content and as happy as ever. You sighed and decided to put on some music to drown out the spiralling thoughts. Soon enough, you both reached the ice cream shop.

Months passed, and Narin’s university days came to an end. It had been three months into his pregnancy when one day, you came home to find him curled up on the sofa with Prince. There was no usual excitement, no running up to greet you like he always did.

🍭"Narin? You okay? Is something wrong?" By now, the panic in your voice was impossible to hide. You gently made him sit up, cupping his face, and your heart sank as you saw his puffy, red eyes. He was still sniffling, avoiding your gaze, his usual brightness nowhere to be found.

"Narin? You're making me worried. Tell me, what's wrong, baby?"

"I-just-what if you... leave me?! Does your family think I'm not competent enough to bear your child?! Because I feel like it!" His voice cracked with emotion, and you could hear the frustration in every word. Where was all this anger coming from?

"What are you talking about? Who said that?! And why on earth would I leave you?" You could feel your own heart racing. Narin might be childish and immature at times, but he was still your husband, and you cared for him deeply even more so now. Why couldn’t he see that?

"I would never abandon you. Never, you or our child."

"What if it’s a boy? Like me?!" His voice trembled with insecurity, his eyes wide with fear. It was clear the pregnancy hormones were heightening all his worries. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. He needed your reassurance more than ever now.

"Then we’ll love him just the same, Narin. Just like I love you." He finally looked into your eyes.

"Listen, Narin baby. You’re very, very important to me. I love you and our future child, no matter if they’re a boy or a girl. I just want you both to be healthy, and my family wants the same. No one is doubting you, and if they are--just tell me their name. I’ll have a talk with them myself. Now, tell me, did someone say anything to you?"

He shook his head sincerely.

"Then?" you asked gently, stroking his hair.

"I... just had these thoughts..." he whispered, voice trembling slightly. He grasped your collar tightly, his body now almost in your lap. "You won’t leave, right?"

"Never." You held him closer, your voice firm with reassurance, and yet he needed more. He needed to drown in that reassurance, to feel it in every part of his being. You held him tighter, but it still didn’t feel close enough. "And don’t let these thoughts ruin your mood or stress you out. You hear me? Promise me, you won’t."

He nodded, but this time he clung to you like a lifeline, his fingers tightening in your shirt. "Promise," he whispered, his heart racing. He knew that you were not going to leave him but he just wanted to make sure and...was bored. Damn, he can be a really good actor if he wants to but in all seriousness, it's important to remind you that he is now your everything, your new family. In his head, there was no room for doubt. You belonged to him, and no one else could ever come between you two.... and now three of you. Not now, not ever.

In his eyes, the most delightful thing is making you run for whatever he craves, even if it’s the middle of the night or a drive to another town just to get a snack he tried once. He revels in the fact that you’ll do anything for him, and he takes immense pride in bragging about how caring and romantic his wife is. He squeals with childlike excitement when you’re out fulfilling his whims, loving how dreamy and devoted you are.

But lately, there’s a shadow of sadness in his eyes as he watches you work harder than ever. You’ve started a new venture with your friend, and it’s consuming more of your time and energy.

🍭"You should take a break now," he said, plopping down next to you on the couch and peering over your shoulder at your laptop. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern beneath his playful words. "I don’t want to be a widower in this condition." You jerked your head towards him in shock at his bluntness. It was classic Narin--his naive habit of saying whatever came to mind without fully thinking it through. You just sighed, shaking your head at his antics.

"I’m not dying here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be done in a few minutes."

"Why are you even doing this?! Isn’t your salary enough-"

"No, it’s not enough. Certainly not for the future when the kid is going to grow up and go to school and stuff." Narin grumbled, leaning his head against your chest with a sigh. He was like a needy kitten, wanting your comfort and attention, and the warmth of your chest made him feel a little safer. 'As disciplined and farsighted as ever. So fucking hot.' Well, he is kind of glad too, now that you are working so much, you rarely have time to visit your own family. Hehe. That's right wifey, work for me and your child now, our child.

"Yeah, you’re right. And also, it’s not like we’re going to have only one, right? I was a single child, so I want more than one kid. Got it?" Your hands paused momentarily over the keyboard.

"Um--yeah, but focus on this one for now..." Narin’s smile widened as he traced his finger lightly across your chest. "Oki! Our kids are going to be the prettiest and the smartest!"

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as worries about the future tugged at the edges of your thoughts. "Of course," you replied softly, placing a gentle kiss on his crown before returning to your work. In that moment, the presence of each other made the stress feel a little more bearable.

@mel-vaz 🍭

[harveybwabbit92]

Grocery girl: Ken Sato x reader Pt. 2

You were a delivery girl who was frequently dispatched to the famous baseball player's Ken Sato residence, you were a nobody that anyone hardly paid attention to, until you found the legendary baseball passed out on his front steps looking like hell, being a bit of worry wart you help him inside and that things took a HUGE turn when you find yourself playing mommy for a giant baby dragon....

Part 1

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

It had been almost a month since that strange incident with Sato. R/n tried bury it in the back of her mind but it always seem to find it's way back to the surface, it also didn't help that he was the main topic on every news outlet or at every water cooler gossip R/n has accidentally eavesdropped on. Apparently things weren't going very well for Mr. Sato's career.

Heck, even Meimei seems to have lost her earlier admiration for the baseball player as the younger girl had stopped asking R/n about him and switched to swooning and gushing over some K-pop group she fell in love with to anyone that would listen; R/n included, but that's teenagers for you they loose interest in things too easily, not that Meimei's uncle AKA the Boss was complaining he was just happy the kid was taking her job seriously now! So was R/n cos that meant Meimei would stop following her around asking about Mr. Sato every time she got back from a delivery.

Speaking of...

R/n pulled into Mr. Sato's driveway it seemed like the usual drop off situation until R/n got out of the van and nearly dropped the box of groceries at the sight that waited for her outside, R/n had to take a minute for her brain register what she was looking at first.

She thought it was a dummy left outside, before realizing it was person passed out on the steps and not just any old person. "Mr. Sato!" R/n put the box down and ran over to the downed baseball player she rolled him over to get look at his face and winced. Cripes! he looked like he'd been dragged through hell and back again!

R/n quickly tried to rouse the knocked out Sato by shaking him but that did little other making him mumble incoherently, R/n then through great struggle managed to lift him up off the stairs and was stunned at how heavy the baseball player was as his weight damn near sent them both tumbling backwards!

But R/n managed to steady them both as she pretty much dragged his limp body up the stairs. "This would be so easy for me if you'd just wake up." R/n grunted as she readjusted Ken so she could knock on his door; Hopefully his assistant was here and she could take care of him.

However when the front door opened on it's own there was no one there waiting. R/n stared nervously into the seemingly empty house, she heard nary a creak or breeze as she reluctantly took a step inside and tried not to yelp when the door suddenly shut behind her leaving the house in almost complete darkness.

Then the thoughts started creeping in and for brief moment R/n wondered if this was all possibly all a ruse and that Mr Sato was secret serial kill and that strange noises she heard last time was screams of his last victim...After all, who would suspect the famous baseball payer?!

But then R/n's more rational side reasoned how that ridiculous that was! if there was a killer on the loose there would've been some kind of news about it. R/n calmed herself down and dragged Mr. Sato to the first couch she found before getting his abandoned groceries from outside, R/n went against policy and opened them, grabbing a bottle of water and a Melon pan from it.

She left them on the coffee table for when he wakes up and was going to leave Mr. Sato for his assistant to find, But then R/n felt something off...did the floor just vibrate? Her brows furrowed as her eyes looked up at the ceiling and saw the boxy looking chandelier was swaying around; R/n shook her head. No, it wasn't her business... She got ready to leave, but then the thoughts about Mr. Sato possibly being a covert serial killer came back with a vengeance and she thought if he was hiding someone could that vibration them calling for help?

Checking to make sure Mr. Sato was still sleeping R/n cautiously crouched down low and pressed her ear to the floor only to jumped back with a gasp when she heard the same wailing from a month ago echoing from the floor below, R/n stood up and looked around the house for a way downstairs and found her only option was the large glass elevator cos of course the rich boy's got an elevator.... R/n stepped in and looked for a control button only for the elevator start moving on it own.

R/n tried to duck down in poor attempt to hide herself as it got closer to the bottom floor when it finally stopped and the delivery girl cautiously peeked out to see; well, she expected some kind of blood soaked torture room to be waiting for her, instead her eyes widened in awe at her futuristic surroundings if this was a basement it was like one she'd never seen before! The thoughts about Mr. Sato being a serial killer were quickly replaced with him possibly being a superhero fanboy.

This whole place screamed 'Batcave' as R/n stepped out of the elevator and began to wander around she wondered how much this place cost the baseball player to build? While R/n was gawking she failed to notice the large shadow slowly rising up behind her until it was too late.

R/n looked down and slowly turned around looking up as did her awe struck face slowly contorting into fear as she stared up at the beast behind her and shuddered.

"I never knew the harbinger of death would be so... pink!" 

*hours later*

Ken is woken up to by the baby squealing and his alarms going off like crazy! He looked at the time 11 pm...Oh, he missed her 9pm feeding, he wondered Mina didn't wake him up? when he spotted the water and Melon pan on the coffee table and ate and drank those as he made his way to the elevator but it was already downstairs causing him to pause.

Ken's mind was still hazy from juggling everything he couldn't remember if he'd gone downstairs earlier and went outside through the airlock to get back up into the house? Or maybe Mina brought something downstairs for the baby to use?

The answer was the last thing Ken expected as he descended into his base to find the baby playing Daruma-san (statues/red light green light for us yanks) with Mina and...Ken choked on his food when he saw his grocery girl standing in the middle of his base in posed like Hamlet (she holding Mina in the Alas poor Yorick pose) She nearly fell over when she saw Mr. Sato gawking. "What the heck is going-Oh, nonono!" When then the baby noticed him and she immediately run up to Ken and picked him up much to his protest.

While this was going on R/n used this as her attempt to escape to the elevator only for Ken to notice her sneaking away and changed into Ultraman and block her path with his hand... R/n gasped as she looked up at the silver giant completely flabbergasted. "Okay, So not a serial killer." Now it was Ultraman's turn to be confused. "What?"

Cut to R/n trapped in her own containment chamber sitting down bored as she watches a frustrated Mr. Sato pacing around his base. "Y'know, You'll go bald if you keep tugging at your hair like that" she said with a sigh the baseball player ignored her as the delivery girl tried to readjusted herself in a more comfortable position but the tube was to narrow for her legs to properly stretch out. "Couldn't you have given me a bigger tube? this one's too cramped." Mr. Sato shot her a seething glare that shut R/n up as he walked up to her tube.

"Oh, I'm sorry, maybe you should've called ahead before breaking into my house!" He sneered The delivery just rolled her eyes. "For that last time, I didn't break in I found you outside..." Ken snorted obviously not believing her. "Hey you, floating eye lady" R/n called out to Mina who floated over to them. "Doesn't this place have cameras or something" Show this knuckle head I'm telling the truth." She said crossing her arms, while Ken barked a Mina not to listen her and wait for the cops, who were taking their sweet time getting here.

"The police are not coming because I haven't called them." Ken looked at the orb in disbelief. "What? why not?!" Mina played the footage from a few hours ago showing Ken staggering up his front steps and then dropping like a sack of potatoes 15 minutes later R/n's van pulled up showed her jumping and quickly checking Ken over before picking him carrying him inside, and showed how she got into his base.

"Told ya, if this is the thanks I get for helping; then maybe I should've left you there for the birds to crap on!"

"Okay, okay... but that still doesn't mean you're off the hook."

"Oh? what are you gonna do? keep me in this tube forever?"

"No, You going to help me...With her."

Mr. Sato points at the baby Kaiju in the tube next to R/n's who babble happily and waved when he pointed at her, R/n meanwhile got this shell shocked look on her face, she thought he was joking until R/n was free from the tube; but by the next morning found herself in a moving van with her belongs hastily stuffed inside headed back towards Mr. Sato's house.

{Bonus, how R/n ended up playing with Emi: 

R/n tried to back away from the pink dragon thing that was staring her down when it took a step near her, She gasped and instinctively covered her face...But, nothing happened? The delivery girl curiously peeked between her fingers and saw Pinky was staring at her; she put her hands down.

The monster moves again R/n throws her hands back up and the monster did the oddest thing it smiled while chirping and clapping at her. R/n was very obviously bewildered by it's strange behavior as she repeated same action a few times before something clicked in her head; Peek-a-Boo.... It's thinks R/n was playing Peek-a-boo with it . "You're just a baby, aren't you?" The Kaiju tilted it's head at R/n bemused.

*Ken Sato has a baby Kaiju in his basement...what the crap?!*

The delivery girl screamed mentally as the baby Kaju chirped and covered it's face with it's hands; R/n knew what it was doing and played along "Oh no, where'd the baby go?" The delivery girl pretended to look around while side eyeing the elevator which the baby was currently blocking, The kaiju pulled it's hands away from it's face as R/n cheered "Oop, there you are!~" the baby squealed excitedly as this floating eye-ball robot suddenly appeared and started asking questions.

R/n explained herself and promised that she wouldn't tell anyone about this if the eye would let her leave. However, as soon as R/n took a step towards the elevator... The baby started sniffling and tearing up causing the delivery girl to panic. "No, no, I'm not leaving I'm not leaving, I promise, I'll stay here!" R/n said petting it on the leg and not realizing just how true those words would end up being in a few hours.

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

Cross posted on my A03/Squidgeworld/Wattpad.

[aphroditesmoon]

Heyy I love your Clarisse work!!! Can I get a Clarisse being protective over fem reader when Percy Jackson arrives and he tries to talk to us? Thank you!!!!

back to you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: ep2 spoilers, protective clarisse, kissing.

a/n: thank you for reading n enjoying my clarisse fic! I hope this is to ur liking<3

wc: 1.7k

---

The new kid was lost. That much was easy to tell. He had been clamied as Poseidon's son, and yet no one had the thought of actually directing him to his new cabin.

You've been watching him from the corner of your eyes as you help fix your cabin siblings' stance for a spar. He's been walking back and forth in circles like an abandoned kitten. It was honestly amusing to watch.

It was about 2 minutes later when you hear his footsteps nearing you and turned ariund to meet the boy's face. "Hey." He greeted breathily like he's been running a marathon.

"Fish boy." You responded, making him frown. "Um, I'm actually- never mind, I was wondering if you uh, know where the Poseidon cabin is?" You cross your arms and studied the confusion on his face. "Did Chiron not show you?"

"He did, I just, forgot?" Of course he did. "I'll show you, come on." You walk past him to where his cabin is at, the whole map of this camp is engraved in your mind.

"It's really not that far." You tell him as you kept moving. You had to slow down a bit when you remember he's carrying his bags with him.

Percy Jackson looks less threatening to you now than he did before. It's almosf hard to believe that this is the same kid who destroyed a minotaur and broke Clarisse's spear. He was just a boy, and not even a mean or bratty one.

How is it that Mr. D and Chiron both founded it totally fine to let this 12 year old boy live in an empty cabin alone is beyond you, but that's not your problem to think about.

He's quicker on his feet than you expected and asked questions less stupid that others have.

"There shouldn't be a curfew if I'm the only one here, right?" He ask as he drops his bag on the floor by the bed. You watch him from the door, leaning against the frame. "I mean, technically, I'm head of the cabin."

Your brows raised at that. "I don't think that's how it works."

"The curfew is probably the same as any other cabin's curfew, though like you said, it's not like there's anyone else to tell you when to go to bed here." He gets the implication you're making. You weren't going to tell him that he could go around and do as he likes, but he could actually do it if he wanted to. There's not much supervision here.

You turn on the lights from where you're at, the switch button being on the wall by the entrance. The walls of the place were blue and white, it seems more well kept than the other cabins. How disappointing that he wouldn't have anyone to share the space with.

Percy had stood up from his bed to walk over to you to say his thanks when the both of you were interrupted by a familiar voice. He flinched at Clarisse's presence. But you, as surprised as you are, is used to her sneaking up from behind.

"What does this punk want with you?" She questions boldly. You spin around to find her a few steps away from you. Percy physically shivered, walking deeper into the cabin. "I was just asking her for directions." He explained before you could.

She's looking him up and down like predators do to their preys with a demonic glare in her eyes. It's been less than 12 hours since he broke her spear. And losing dessert privileges and her spear wasn't exactly a recipe to making Clarisse happy.

You pat her shoulder with your hand, in which she quickly shrugged off as she steps closer to the cabin, standing next to you and eyeing Percy suspiciously. "You expect me to believe that no one else has shown you the direction here."

"I forgot." He spoke at the same time as you told her, "Clarisse, he forgot."

“Forgot?” Clarisse turns her gaze from him to you and then back to him with a frown. "Well, you've already led him here, haven't you?" You gave her a look that says 'can you not?' She easily ignores your meaning of course, glaring at the boy again.

"Yes, I have. So I'll go now, come on Clarisse." You announced loudly, pulling your girlfriend by her arm to leave Percy alone.

She remains unmoving at first, sizing up Percy, until you tugged at her arm again, calling out her name. “Clarisse, please. Let's just go back to training.” Finally giving in, she lets you drag ger away from the blonde boy. You could almost hear the sigh of relief leave his body.

"Thanks for the help-" you hear the fish boy shout from behind hesitantly.

"Absolute brat." Clarisse mutters under his breath once the two of you are away from him. "He was just asking for help." You felt the need to defend him.

She put her right arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her as she scoff at your words. "Great, you're already siding with him after what he's done to me. Really? Are we forgetting that he broke my spear?"

You did chase him around with it like a lunatic, you thought of telling her. But you knew better than to upset her even more.

"I'm always on your side, you know that." You replied gently instead, letting your own arm wrap around her waist as the two of you make it back to the training grounds.

"Good, you're the only one I want on my team, so that better be the last time I see you around him" You smiled at that and leaned closer to her face to place a peck on her cheeks before other people could see you two coming over. "Yes, ma'am." You teased her.

She pulls your face back to hers before you could fullt pull away and kisses you harder, cupping your cheek with her free hand, uncaring of anyone's eyes on you.

[heart2beom]

cliché

pairing: bsf!yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, crack, little angst

synopsis: after yeonjun hears you referring to him as someone who's like a brother ...he tries his hardest to make you see him as a potential boyfriend.

or in which you're perplexed at all the movie hangouts your friend has been initiating.

warning: mature language, reader is assumed to be fem

notes: honestly, i always try to cut down the word count to make it more available for people who only read drabbles/blurbs but i just CANT. so here's another short oneshot T-T and as always, reblog to help the algorithm pick up on this :D

yeonjun was confused walking back home -- no, the whole day, he was disturbed. the reason for this was yesterday...when he went to get drinks for both you and him at a frat party.

the crowds were insanely hard to get through (and it didn't help that people kept on stopping him to 'catch up' or whatnot) so it took him more than fifty minutes to come back with the drinks he promised to get.

but it looked like it was too late because the people you were surrounding yourself with when yeonjun was there...disappeared. instead, you're bundled up, alone in a corner, with a guy he does not know. which was already weird because yeonjun knew everybody, and that was enough reason for him to hurry his ass up through sweaty frat drunks and make sure the unknown guy isn't some sleazeball.

that time he wasn't aware that he rolled his eyes but he did conciously plan to squeeze himself into the conversation...and technically cockblock.

but when he neared you...that's when his world shattered...on more dramatic terms. it was more like his confidence was shot down to the deepest depths of hell.

"oh, yeonjun? pfft, he's like a brother!"

even though it was almost barely audible due to the blasting music, 'brother' to his ears were magnified -- the word circling through his head.

brother. brother?!

and as a result of this baffling situation, he had backed himself in an opposing corner with your cup in his right and his cup in his left, way further than you now, thinking of where did it go wrong?

he's never had someone friend-zone him -- for heavensake, he's yeonjun, he's aware of how attractive he is. but brother-zone? that was even worse of an attack!

it doesn't matter that you said it -- come on, that's barely the case. it's the fact that someone was so unattracted to him that he was seen as a sibling.

sure, you and yeonjun were a sort of bunch that have been together since... forever, really. seriously, you were friends since elementary -- when you joined the school, fourth grade, mindlessly kicking rocks at recess he approached you like the social butterfly kid that he was, asking you if you wanted to come play with his friends.

once he took another sip of the red cup in his right hand, the fruity punch being way too overbearing (just how'd you like it), he furrowed his brows together.

he definitely doesn't see you as a sister.

he'd have to admit that when middle school hit and his puberty was acting up around ...the seventh grade? he was convinced that he would eventually marry you like the way his parents were. a brother wouldn't have felt that way about his sister! normally that is...

granted, he mostly blamed that on the first strikes of puberty because right after middle school, he moved on from the thought -- completely abandoning his pre-puberty dreams, but that was besides the point!

he was getting nauseous from the sweetness of his drink and the further he thought about the way you thought of him, he felt that he would ruin the party by vomiting on someone.

his night was officially ruined. absolutely, fundementally, literally ruined.

and thats how he found himself unfocused on everything around him the next day, finally making the decision to consult with his roommates about this frankly, very big conundrum.

"you can't just purposefully leave out important details? like, how am i supposed to diagnose you properly bro?" beomgyu asked as he spammed the keys on his controller.

"you're not diagnosing me--" yeonjun exhaled, wanting to to keep the banter to the minimum in respect to the issue he's facing. "literally what do you think we're doing right now?"

"i'm going to be completely honest and say ...i have no idea-- shit, what the fuck are you doing heeseung? jump! jump!" he yelled towards the big screen in front of him.

yeonjun groaned, turning his head to behind the couch. "soobin, it's not too late to help out your only friend!" he yelled out in hopes of it reaching the guy's bedroom.

and with no response, he turned back to watching the game beomgyu was playing. "god, you know how many times i gave that guy life changing advice on women?"

"and this is how he repays me?"

beomgyu nodded along to whatever yeonjun was mumbling about until the brunette magically connected dots and euphoric realization hit him. beomgyu almost scrambled around to completely face him this time, "hold on, hold on. yeonjun you lost me, are you having girl problems?"

to that, yeonjun rolled his eyes. "i wouldn't call it 'girl problems', that sounds like a problem soobin would have."

"uh-huh ...uh-huh. no, no yeah." beomgyu said nodding mindlessly to save the guy some face. "heeseung i'm logging off dude, yeonjuns got girl problems."

yeonjun just deadpanned to the back of the guys head, having no will to correct him.

he wanted to get the pending issue out of the way first.

it was more situated a few minutes later. instead of beomgyu sitting on the floor criss crossed, leaned on the couch yeonjun was sitting on, beomgyu was now sitting on the chair next to the couch, his elbows on his knees, brows deeply furrowed.

and not to forget yeonjun's pen and paper in hand.

"so... you're trying to get a girl to like you?"

"not like. i want her to see me as someone she would want as a boyfrie--" when he saw beomgyus brow raising up as to say 'whats the difference' he cleared his throat. "yea, basically."

"don't you know how to do that though?"

he shrugged, "it's different this time."

"how?"

"trust me, it's very different."

"okay but how?"

"you'd be the last person i'd ask for an interrogation beomgyu, that'd be a task for like... taehyun or something."

"i'm sorry that i need to understand my client first--"

"i am not your client" yeonjun said, rolling his eyes.

"what's going on here?", yeonjun turned his head to see soobin behind the kitchen island, scooping himself some icecream.

"dude, where were you when i needed you?", yeonjun asked.

"me and yj are holding a dating therapy session."

yeonjun turned his head to beomgyu, "again, it's not a therapy sessio--"

"you're getting dating advice from beomgyu?" soobin asked, his face scrunched up doubting if it really got this bad.

and back to soobin. "when you say it like that.." "soobin can you please leave yeonjun alone? he's in a very vulnerable state right now"

then beomgyu again. "i'm seriously going to beat you up." he said, biting his bottom lip and raising his fist against his roommate. beomgyu immediately jumps dramatically, shielding himself with his arms up.

"see? he's getting violent!"

soobin finally plopped on the couch next to yeonjun with his cup of icecream. "explain it to me, maybe i can help you out."

"i'll save you the trouble, he's not explaining for whatever reason--"

"a girl said that i'm like a brother to her." yeonjun reluctantly mumbled.

a wave of silence hit the dorm, for a minute yeonjun thought they just didn't hear him and to be completely honest, he was about to thank the gods because he regretted saying anything the moment he did, but that thought was immediately shot down when both sides of his ears were being blasted by humiliating laughter.

soobin got up, patting yeonjun's shoulder as reassurance, still laughing. "yeah, good luck with that hyung."

"okay, it's not even that bad--"

"dude, not even cha eunwoo would survive the sibling zone." beomgyu said, a hard reality check for yeonjun. "though hyunbin might.." he mumbled to himself. yeonjun caught it though, but it didn't matter. yeonjun was no hyunbin.

"fuck." he breathed out, the utensils he was holding had lesser grip on them as he just stared into nothingness. beomgyu was right. he's forever stuck as a brother in your eyes.

but then a ring of his phone snaps him out of it.

when he checks the id, his ambition is restored almost immediately for whatever reason; it was you.

"yo why are you smiling?", beomgyu said trying to peep at yeonjun's phone, but yeonjun reflexes took over, and he immediately turned his phone off.

"beomgyu, don't you think i kind of resemble hyunbin?" he said with a head tilt and an overconfident smirk, talking like he just had an epiphany.

"the one from crash landing on you? uh no."

yeonjun jumped from the couch a new man, his pen and paper in one hand and his ringing phone on the other. he finally faced beomgyu as the man he was, choi motherfucking yeonjun. "i gotta answer this call...and also, if you ask anybody who my celebrity doppelganger is, everyone would proudly say its hyunbin dumbass."

then yeonjun left with a smile and a surge of new confidence overtaking his face as he spoke away on the phone with you, while beomgyu was left in the living room more than confused as he looked up the actor on his phone.

instead of finding the difference, beomgyus brain was tasking him into finding the similarities...which, there was one to yeonjun's credit.

black hair.

"when are the others coming?" you asked looking around the crowded floor as yeonjun was buying popcorn and drinks. "the movies about to start.." you mumbled, checking your phone for the hundredth time.

"oh, i guess its just me and you again." he said with the popcorn and bottle of coke finally in his arms.

"again? don't you think this is getting suspicious?" you said as you walked alongside yeonjun, not noticing the way yeonjun just gulped.

you stopped in your tracks, in turn yeonjun bumping into your back a little, a few popcorns dropping on the floor.

"hey...you don't think.." you furrowed your brows, in deep thought. this has been on your mind for a while now. "you don't think they're trying to set us up or something do you?"

after the third time your friends stood you and yeonjun up, you were starting to think they were pushing, what they called, the 'ynjun' agenda..but it was the first time you'd ever bring it up to yeonjun, so you just laughed it off -- scolding your friends will come on a later date.

"nevermind, lets go inside the movie theatre jun."

"ya' y/n, wait."

you turned around to an awkward standing yeonjun at first, but he immediately straightens up and clears his throat, with a smile you've grown so attached to -- the smile that reached his eyes. for something so simple, it made your heart beat a little quicker than normal.

"can you hold the coke for a sec? i'm trynna--i'm trynna do something."

you break into a light laugh, "um, okay." that snapped you out of it because you remember who he was again -- your platonic best friend.

you took the cola bottle off his right arm, expecting him to take his phone out of his pocket to check something.

but as you stared at your sneakers, checking if they're untied, you felt his hand on top of your head, which startled you.

you looked up to meet yeonjuns eyes, a brow raised.

before you could say anything, he ruffled the top of your hair gently, leaning towards you a bit, to shorten the height difference.

"y/n, let this be our first date." your platonic best friend's voice, so warm and gentle you thought you would only hear in dreams, said those words...to you.

"so you asked her out on a date but you don't even like her...? that doesn't make any sense." soobin said, sitting on the couch watching beomgyu hog up the tv screen, his use time running out.

"bros an asshole..but i feel like we knew that already-- fuck you heeseung. you fucking suck ass you need to get off my team." beomgyu yelled.

"okay, first of all, it's not that bad. she doesn't like me at all, plus the date was how we would usually hung out anyway."

soobin just shook his head -- being the only guy with a functioning moral compass amongst the people he called his friends was exhausting.

as soon as he was about to lecture yeonjun, the tv timer goes off -- and that makes his plan a fleeting thought.

"it's my turn now, throw me the remote."

"bro give me a second, let me finish this gam--"

"no! unplug your console." soobin yelled impatiently, he knew better than to let beomgyu go over the timer again.

beomgyu groaned, abandoning heeseung in the game and unplugging his console. when soobin got control of the tv and opened up netflix, beomgyu stood up to sit next to yeonjun -- who had gotten a notification from you.

"yj, who's the chick? you never told us."

"uh, you don't really know her." he mindlessly answered, focused on the messages from you.

[y/n, 9:16 pm] that serenade ..as cringe as it was.. [y/n, 9:16 pm] like lets be serious, there was NO reason for u to get on top of the cafeteria table lol

he hadn't yet told his roommates what he did this morning, thinking that he'd get a longer lecture by soobin.

but he had took inspiration from the movie you guys were watching the other night at the cinema. you talked his ear off about how romantic it was, how you would fall at the feet of dicaprio if he did the same to you..

he was no dicaprio, but he could try is what he thought. and though you forced him to get down half way through, he could still enjoy sharing the laughter, your laughter, that was ringing in his ear.

[yeonjun, 9:17 pm] as cringe as it was...? you're in love w me ;)

he typed it as a joke, a smile tugging on his lips waiting for your reaction to his teasing.

but beomgyu hovered over his phone out of boredom again, and out of instinct yeonjun threw his phone -- the three chois looking at the phone on the floor in shock.

"bro, why are you being so secretive? were you sexting?" beomgyu yelled, accusatory.

"can we collectively have some decency in this house, jesus fucking christ beomgyu." soobin muttered.

"shut up church boy, yeonjun's hiding something for sure."

"or maybe he just wanted some privacy dude?" soobin retaliated.

yeonjun jumped up pointing at soobin, "exactly! exactly! listen to soobin, you were invading my personal space. so not cool beomgyu."

"yeah, okay. you've never agreed with me with this much enthusiasm before. he's hiding something. quick, check his phone." to soobins order, beomgyu was prepared to run to the phone when he made eye contact with the owner -- but yeonjun was quick.

"good god, wait wait. what do you want beomgyu--fuck, if you wanted her name it's y/n alright? the chick's y/n!" yeonjun doesn't do well under pressure, at all.

"what are you talking about--" beomgyu's face morphed into shock with his mouth agape. "--oh my fucking god. yeonjun, y/n's the chick? the one who brother zoned you?" beomgyu yelled.

"yeah...?" he said hesitantly.

"i can't--i just can't. soobin knock some sense into him." beomgyu turned away dramatically, shaking his head.

"yeonjun--" soobin started.

"dude, y/n has been in love with you for like a decade!" beomgyu blurted out, turning to face yeonjun again, interrupting soobin.

"uh..no? guys, i literally told you that she said she sees me as a brother. i saw her telling some guy that at the frat party last week."

beomgyu walked towards yeonjun, grabbing both of his shoulders, shaking him, "she. didn't. brother. zone. you. you stupid fuck!"

"she's been saying that to people because its so obvious that every time she tries moving on, she still likes you." soobin added in.

yeonjun, with his brows furrowed, tore beomgyu's hands off his shoulder -- walking towards his phone.

and it felt like a million thoughts were racing around his head the three seconds it took for him to get his phone, like a storm, a big tornado clouding his mind. but the most heavy was...how long? a fucking decade? and he never noticed?

he found it hard to swallow, almost nervous...that it was true.

the two other chois were staring at him, exchanging glances.

and when he picked up his phone, it was like he feared.

his text was left on read.

yeonjun's roommates were right for once.

all the secret glances he'd catch, a smirk twitching on his face as he pretended not to see, all the times you'd practically asked him out -- he shot it all down subconsciously thinking it was nothing more than coincidences on top of coincidences.

"you know, i was thinking it was weird you freaked out so much about the brother thing. yunjin told you that right to your face like last month and you didn't say anything." beomgyu said as he let himself fall on the couch.

beomgyu was right, he didn't care when yunjin said it.

yeonjun looked at beomgyu, eyes confused. "so...what are you trying to say?"

"maybe you feel the same way...? god, do i have to spell it out for you every single time?" he said dramatically, groaning.

"okay yeonjun. drama's over, go do your walk of shame to your room." soobin said, getting comfortable on the chair again to watch the premier of his show.

"and reflect!" beomgyu shouted out as yeonjun went over to his room, obeying soobin with his phone tight in hand.

"what are we watchin?" beomgyu finally asked, soobin giving him a side eye in response.

"we? beomgyu, i'm not watching another show premier with you again."

"just because my commentary is too good doesn't mean you have to get all jealous--"

yeonjun bursts out of his room through the narrow hallway that lead to the main door, a coat hanging on his right arm as he hurriedly slipped on his sneakers.

it startled both of the guys on the couch, looking over at him with brows raised: what is yeonjun doing?

no one could get a word in, not even beomgyu, before he was totally out of sight.

only adrenaline was rushing through his veins as he shut the door behind him, putting his arms through his padded coat, and sprinting to the elevator -- frantically spamming the button to make him falsely hope the elevator would reach his floor any faster

it wasn't like he had to do something in the ten minutes his head thought he had left, no, it was the realization that had him acting in urgency he never thought he'd have for a girl. all of his stupidity dawning on him -- for fucksake, of course it mattered that you said he was like a brother, it was you.

and as he ran out the building -- his head felt dizzy, not because it was overwhelmed with thoughts, no, this time he only had a few but those were harder to manage his head.

did he ever give up on you in middle school?

did he ever move on from you in highschool?

did he really dump a dream, you -- the dream he had as a boy, with all the other dreams he never thought would happen?

when yeonjun was finally in front of your family house, the one you still chose to live in through your college experience, he moved to where'd he guess the window of your room was.

"y/n?" he shouted out with all the energy he could muster up. he had to bend over his knee to catch his breath, because he would shout your name again.

again, and again, and again.

blood rushed up to his cheeks, not because of the cold, because he was embarrassed -- what if you weren't even here?

he waited, staring up at the window which showed no sign of your room light being on.

but he wouldn't give up, he'd have to try something else.

yeonjun looked down at his feet, the absence of the sun being harder on his vision. there were no rocks, the only thing visible to his eyes were branch sticks which only made him hope that his aim was good enough to get your window a few times.

it wasn't.

when the last stick that he found hit a window that wasn't the one he was trying to aim at - he cursed under his breath, defeated. yeonjun concluded that this was a bigger fail than the fucking time he found out that he was flirting at a family--not a class, reunion.

he could just go back to his dorm and call you is what he thought as he exhaled, a fog escaping his lips into the cold, feeling even more of a loser.

"yeonjun?!" he turned around at the familiar voice calling out for him and his eyes widened, lighting up as they set on your face, finally out of the window, with your room light making it a little easier for him to see your features.

"y/n?" he shouted back, ecstatic.

"what are you doing out here?", you shouted the words slowly so he could pick it up. then add, "it's fucking cold!"

"i just wanted to know" he inhaled, the cold air burning his nostrils, "why you didn't answer my text!"

it was silent, yeonjuns lips agape waiting for a response.

"you're fucking insane!" you said laughs slipping between your words, yeonjun scoffs lightly, a wide smile on his face.

he put his hands up as walls to his mouth to echo his words louder, "for you!" he shouted out in response.

"shut the fuck up!" it was a distant yell, one you both assumed, as you met eye contact, was y/n's neighbors. and then you laughed again at the untimely part of it all.

when you turned away from the window, yeonjun found himself yearningly waiting for you to come back. hands that were in his pockets felt a vibration -- his phone.

he took it out just to see a notification from his, quite frankly, favorite person ever.

[y/n, 10:26 pm] lets talk on here lol

he looked up and saw you at the window again, with you waving your phone at him -- it earned a smile tugging once more, on the ends of his lips.

just how did he manage to ignore overwhelming feelings about you, of you, for the past decade?

[yeonjun, 10:27 pm] come down. i'm not gonna tell u this thru text [y/n, 10:27 pm] why not? [yeonjun, 10:27 pm] don't wanna [y/n, 10:28 pm] youre asking me to get out of my cozy ass room just bcs u dont wanna??

"yeah! basically dumbass!" he shouted, startling your poor self out of your focus on your phone. you glared at him, yeonjun most likely missing it.

[y/n, 10:28 pm] STOP DONT DO THAT THOSE PSYCHOS ARE GOING TO CALL THE COPS ON ME [yeonjun, 10:29 pm] ok then come down before i freeze my fingers off

when you slid your window closed, closing your curtains, he immediately turned to quickly run towards the front of your house. yeonjun leaned on the fence of your porch, smiling with thoughts of you clouding his mind, as he looked up at the moon.

it was all so cliché -- the type of scene his roommates would squeal over and one that he would roll his eyes to, but if he were to watch this part of his life, again and again -- the moment you opened the door, the moment you both exchanged looks that communicated 'we feel the same way don't we?', a short awkward laugh that was shared, the moment you hesitantly opened your mouth to say something -- and then, the final moment of his longing lips crashing onto yours, his cold hands warming up the moment he cupped your face, the repocracy from your side making him smile into the kiss, the euphoric realisation that he wasn't late, you didn't stop loving him yet, and when he cut the kiss short, both your lips barely apart, yeonjun whispered an i love you, and to it you smiled, pulling him into your house, to finish your kiss -- he would too, squeal over the scene, kicking his feet like a highschool girl.

ending a/n: YOU FINISHED IT YAY :D yeonjun was lowk an asshole for wanting to lead on mc at first for his own benefit, but hes such a cutie im sorry, its easy to forgive T-T let me know what you feel about this piece, it was so fun to write!!

[hypewinter]

Prev

Tim came down the stairs with an empty mug in hand. As he entered the dinning room he found a kid happily eating pancakes. Ah this must be the new adoptee, he thought to himself as he recalled last night's group chat.

"This is not a new adoptee," Bruce said looking up from the boy. Man, Tim hated when the old man guessed their thoughts like that.

"Say whatever you need to convince yourself B," Tim replied with a shrug as he went into the kitchen.

Bruce shouted after him, "He already has a family!"

The boy immediately interjected, "She's not my family silly! She's my friend."

Tim chuckled to himself as he filled his mug and came back into the dining room. "Aw B," he said smugly, "he doesn't even have a family. You're not saying we're gonna leave him on the streets are you?"

Bruce for his part, glared halfheartedly at Tim before turning back to the little boy. Tim also took this time to observe the boy. He believed Oracle had said his name was Danny. Danny was currently happily kicking his legs as he stabbed at his pancakes. Tim couldn't help but note how the pancakes had already been cut into bite sized pieces. Other than that, he seemed perfectly fine. No apparent injuries or adverse reactions to sudden movements. His clothes were also nice and clean. Probably Alfred's doing. Speaking of the old butler, he came in and set a plate down in front of Tim.

"Oh I'm not-" One eyebrow raise was enough for the young man to shut his mouth. He looked down at his plate only to immediately turn back to Alfred with an eyebrow raise of his own. "Mister Danny claimed it was not fair he was the only one to receive such special pancakes. He was rather insistent that everyone experiences such happiness this fine morning," Alfred informed.

Ah, that explains why Tim had gotten star shaped pancakes. He looked over at Danny who was smiling giddily at him. As Tim took his first bite of pancake, he couldn't help but agree with that assessment.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Danny?" the boy looked up at him. "As you know our... mutual friend left you in my care. As such after you're finished with your pancakes, what do you say I take you back home?"

"Ok!" the boy replied before shoveling more pancakes into his mouth.

"I think I'll tag along too," Tim said. There was no way this little "drop off" was going to go as planned and he wanted to be there to see it. After all, someone had to keep the group chat updated. Besides, he took great joy in Bruce's half perplexed half annoyed expression.

"Don't you have some meetings to attend today?" Bruce asked through gritted teeth, guessing his son's angle. "Nope," Tim answered sweetly. "My schedule's all clear today."

"Fine," Bruce relented. "If you want to come along on this very quick drop off, I won't stop you."

Tim smiled into his mug. This was gonna be fun.

-----

"We're here!" Danny exclaimed as they pulled up to an abandoned looking apartment building.

"Are you sure this is your home?" Bruce asked cautiously. Tim couldn't blame him, this place was on the outskirts of the Bowery and looked like nobody had lived there in years.

Danny opened the door and hopped out. "Yep!" he said. "I know because I'm a big boy and big boys know how to get home." He puffed out his chest proudly.

"Right," Bruce muttered pensively as he examined the building.

They all entered the building and began ascending the questionable stairs with Danny taking them two steps at a time. As they climbed, both Bruce and Tim noted how rundown the building looked. Walls were peeling and there was rubble and trash all over the floors. The railing on the stairs looked so rusted that a gust of wind could probably knock them over. Most of the lights didn't work because of one thing or another which luckily wasn't a problem considering it was daytime. But none of that was even the most concerning part. No, the most concerning part was how silent it was.

As they walked down the hall, it was simply too silent. Even taking into account that most people would already be at work right now, it was still too quiet. There was no hint of people coming back from work the night shift. No sound of those staying home sick or someone with a day off. No dogs barked, no cats made any noise. It was an eerie silence that seemed to blanket the whole building. It was unnerving.

Danny stopped in front of a door and opened it with ease. There was no lock or anything. Once again adding to the list of concerning evidence. They entered after Danny to discover a shabby looking flat past the door. There was barely any furniture, and the furniture that was there looked like it should have been thrown out years ago. The floor boards seemed as if they would give way at any moment too. The windows to the far side allowed lighted in but that only served to illuminated the mountain of dust everywhere. The apartment didn't even look lived in. There were no clothes anywhere, no dishes, no sort of decorations, nothing.

Danny seemed undeterred by any of this and happily pranced into a room off to the right. Tim followed him as Bruce stayed behind to look around more.

As he entered, Tim was relieved to find that at least this space looked lived in albeit barely. The bed had Superman themed sheets on it and there was a backpack leaning against the closet. The bed also had a blanket laying on top of it which Danny ran to and grabbed. He came back over to show Tim.

"This is my most precious thing!" he explained excitedly. "My friend gave it to me. Feel it! It's super soft."

Tim knelt down and felt the blanket which was black and had stars all over it. "You're right," he said. "It really is soft." Danny beamed. "Told ya!"

Tim smiled at the boy's obvious excitement despite his less than stellar living arrangements. Just then, Bruce called for him. Tim returned to the main room with Danny in tow, still clutching onto his blanket.

Bruce turned to him and handed him a piece of paper with an unreadable expression. The paper had cursive scrall on it that simply read, Take care of him my knights.

Danny looked up at them both curiously and Tim just sighed. So much for this being a quick drop off.

[macfrog]

jet

🎉 thank u guys so much for 1k followers 🎉 i don’t know how we got here but i love you all endlessly and can’t thank you enough for all the love n support. here’s some smutty joel to celebrate 🤩 this might become something, it might not. i dunno. wanted to try it out tho. lmk your thoughts ✨

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel have an agreement: follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. what happens when, one night, he asks you to break the deal?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) post-outbreak!joel, pining i guess?? when don't i pine for this man, praise kink, light bondage, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (don't u dare), creampie, dom!joel, soft!joel, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), cursing, cute horsies

word count: 6.9k

main masterlist

Somewhere between Missouri and Illinois, last time you checked. Joel has the map, and you don’t bother asking him to see it much. You’ve been following the Mississippi north, on his orders, looking to hit St. Louis sometime tomorrow. Provided you don’t run into any trouble, that is.

It’s been three days with no safe refuge. Camping out in deserted houses with wood for windowpanes, stores infested with rats, office buildings with infected roaming. Joel figures the outskirts of the city are a good spot to stop for a couple nights, regain your strength, find supplies.

You’re a few paces ahead of him, only turning your head slightly when you notice an offramp, and looking back ahead when he doesn’t give any direction. You weave in and out of abandoned cars, hips swaying with the clipping of your horse’s hooves on broken asphalt, Joel’s horse in time at your heels.

You’d untethered the pair of them on a farm back in Nebraska. Joel had told you to stay put while he cleared the house, but you’d wandered over to the field when you spotted them. Timid, skittish, starving.

Five minutes hooked over the fence and they were both eating grass you’d pulled from the earth, right out of your hand. Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching had spooked them back a few steps, but you’d petted their muzzles and when he did the same, they soon warmed to him, too.

He’d jerked his head in a nod and muttered, “Good job,” before finding two saddles, strapping them on, and helping you onto the chestnut brown one – who you’d named Jet.

Joel had found tins of food in the farmhouse, and a switchblade for you to carry. He had a new stain on his shirt.

“Infected?” you asked.

He grunted in reply. Then rolled the tins into his backpack and hoisted himself onto his own horse, giving her reins a tug.

You knew that meant that yeah, there’d been infected inside. And recent, too, going by how well-kept the horses looked. It can’t have been longer than a week.

Joel’s silence as you both wandered down the farm track probably meant that there weren’t just adults in the house, either.

You’d glanced over to him, giving him a small smile. Bent over and reached for his horse’s ears, scratching where her soft black coat met her mane. The reins lay loose around Joel’s knuckles.

Protecting and providing for you was more important than some infected kids in a farmhouse. Joel had made that more than clear over the time you’d been with him. But somewhere, buried deep underneath years of fighting and killing, tucked away under a dusty flannel shirt, you knew his heart was hurting.

That was two weeks ago. Joel hasn’t talked about it, and you’re not interested in bringing it back up. Y’all got to the farm, took everything it had to offer, and you left.

Jet clicks her way along the highway somewhere south of the city. It’s still bright out; Joel reckons probably a few more hours of sunlight, so you know he’ll be scouting for places to camp out soon.

You lean back to stretch your spine, hand steadying yourself on Jet’s rump, her tail swishing as she walks. Her head bobs, looking from left to right, from the trucks with smashed windows sprouting moss, over to the trees losing leaves in the fall breeze.

It’s peaceful. Not much is, these days.

It’s quiet enough that Joel can listen for any sound of oncoming threat, and quiet enough that you can shut your eyes and pretend like you’re on some trail in the Texas country, on a warm summer evening; not exhausted, covered in dirt, weeks since you washed, days since you slept.

You’re humming gently to yourself, imagination taking you down by a creek where Joel pulls you by hand off the horse and you sit down to a picnic or something. He’d bring a basket. Maybe a bottle of wine, or a cheese board. Maybe he lays you back and kisses you on the blanket. Maybe his hand starts to wander up your thigh, skirt ruffling as he goes…

“Not much out here, is there?”

His voice startles you, bursting the seams of your daydream. He isn’t much of a talker, not unless you start it. You sit up straight and give your head a shake, as if dislodging the fantasy from your mind.

You twist around to look at his face; squinting under the bright white sky. Tired, same as you, lined, flecked with years and sun and survival.

“Hm?” he asks when you still don’t reply.

“Not a lot,” you finally say, clearing your throat and turning back to the road.

Finding the horses isn’t the only thing that’d happened two weeks ago.

Joel hadn’t wanted to camp in the farmhouse, hadn’t wanted to have to shift the bodies. Too much effort, or too much for you to see, maybe. You’d protested, heart set on a night’s sleep in an actual bed, but he hadn’t budged.

And you knew not to push him.

The sun was setting, though, so Joel led you down a dirt track toward a barn and burst the padlock. He tied the horses up just inside the door, used bundled up hay as a makeshift mattress upon which he laid out a blanket for you.

He barricaded the door as you lay back, did a walkaround of the place just in case any infected – or worse – were waiting to surprise y’all, and then sat down next to you.

Your head by his thigh, you put a hand on his knee.

“You can lie down, too, y’know.”

He grunted in response, breathing deep and steady.

“Joel.”

You took his shoulder and tried to pull him down to you, but the man is stronger than anyone you’ve ever met, even in his late forties, and you were convinced he’d only pretended to be yanked toward you so as not to hurt your feelings too much.

He remained upright. “Just want to keep watch for a while.”

Joel’s like this when you’re on the road. He’s cautious. On high alert. Always watching ahead, always listening out for whatever he thinks he might hear in the distance. Sometimes you can say something to him and have to give his leg a kick for him to answer you.

You’d sighed and pushed yourself up to lean your bicep against his. He furrowed his brows and scanned you from your jeans to your jaw.

“If you’re up, I’m up,” you told him.

“You need sleep,” he replied flatly.

You shrugged. “So do you.”

“What good is both of us tired?”

You sighed again and shook your head. You weren’t gonna argue with him.

Good thing he didn’t feel much like arguing, either. Ten minutes later he was on top of you, jeans loose on his thighs, head buried in your shoulder, fucking you senseless. Grunting and groaning into your skin.

You’d scored marks into his shoulder blades with your nails that you’re sure, if you peeled back his shirt right now, would still be there.

It’d tired you both out enough that Joel settled with your head on his chest, his hand in your hair, eyes trained on the barn doors. You don’t know if he slept a wink. You never know if he sleeps these days.

Joel hears the hoarseness of your voice and knows that you’re tired, ‘cause he clicks to his horse and she trots up alongside you and Jet. He pulls the map from his backpack. You tilt your head to take a look.

“Keep ridin’ for another hour,” he mumbles. “’m sure we’ll find somewhere soon. Looks like we’re still a little way out of St. Louis.”

You nod, rolling your head back. The cloudy sky burns your corneas as you watch a bird fly overhead. Joel slips the map back into his bag and you feel his hand on your thigh.

“You okay?”

“Mhm. Tired,” you whisper.

“Only a little while longer.” He gives your leg a small squeeze and his hand returns to the reins. He doesn’t fall back, instead, stays ambling along by your side. It feels like company. Feels nice. Feels…normal.

Two weeks is a long fucking time. Especially when your adrenaline peaks on the regular, sometimes multiple times in one day, and you’re alone with Joel all day and all night. Trusting each other, relying on each other. Saving each other time and time again. It was only natural that you began to rely on each other for…more than just survival.

You can’t remember when you found him. It was in the QZ, back when you believed in stability and structure. When you believed in people. Now, the only thing you believed in was Joel. Broken, hurt, shut-off Joel, who’d grumbled an apology when his shoulder brushed yours in the hallway and changed everything.

You like to think you were something new to him, something different. A challenge, maybe. Something worth holding onto, anyway, for reasons he was yet to let you in on.

He had an apartment of his own, with a bed of his own, which was something you weren’t used to. You shared a cramped apartment with Luce, a single mom with a two-year-old. Joel’s was where you went when the tantrums, the screaming in the middle of the night, the ration cards being destroyed either by ripping, by eating, or else by other means, became too suffocating.

Joel didn’t believe in anything or anyone, either. That’s what kept you coming back.

He’d just open his door and step aside to let you in. Barely a word. He’d ask if you’d eaten, and share his plate with you either way. Wordlessly picking away at the same food, making sure you got the last spoonful of soup, the last strip of jerky.

Most nights he’d fuck you until your mind went blank, nothing but the smell of him, feel of him, sound of him. No talking, no kissing, no touching. Just the sound of the bed springs, Joel’s soft groans as he bottomed out inside you. The feel of his hot skin, hips rubbing against the inside of your thighs. The bare, cracked brick walls of his apartment would fade away with each thrust, and then slowly seep back in when your orgasm began to wash away.

You knew it was time-wasting, for both of you. Scratching an itch. But some nights, it felt like more. The nights when he’d be so caught up in what he was doing, so caught up in you, that he’d forget to pull out. The nights his hips would snap messily and suddenly he was spilling inside of you, a deep groan humming against your skin between his teeth.

He wouldn’t care to ask, and you wouldn’t offer the information for free, but you remember every fucking time he did it. Where it’d happened, the position he had you in, how long it took for him to finally peel his body off of yours.

And afterwards, he’d let you sleep with your head on his chest. Let you play with his fingers. Let you talk to him; let you ask questions.

Didn’t mean he answered all of them. Didn’t even mean he answered much. Some, he’d give away more openly than others, but you soon got used to clocking when he was keeping a secret. Make a mental note of it, remember to chip away at it.

He trusted you, though; you knew that. Knew it by the way his fingers knotted safely in your hair, the way he’d lie naked with you until the sun came up. The way his breathing would slow, the way he’d mumble in his sleep.

You never talked to him about the incoherent words he’d breathe – but you could piece them together well enough to understand him better than his waken self would ever reveal.

When you brought up leaving, one rainy night weeks ago, he thought about it maybe twice over. Asked how he was supposed to keep you safe.

You do that already, you told him.

‘s different outside. You don’t understand.

It can’t be any worse than in here.

You’d taken a step forward, and he’d flinched, but allowed you to take his strong jaw in your hands. You tried to form a sentence, and when your throat closed up, eyes flitting between his, he took your wrists and lowered them. The shadow of a rain-spattered window doused in a sickly amber glow across his face.

You’d wanted to kiss him. And had he left your hands where they were just a few seconds longer, you think you might’ve. Joel saw it in your eyes, and stopped it.

Whatever. It had still convinced him. He packed his bag and you snuck down the fire escape the following night. Joel’s fingers were hooked around your belt loop the entire time, keeping your hip in stride with his all the way until you were at least a hundred feet away from the QZ wall.

His other concern was his age. Why someone like you would want to run away with someone like him. Forty-something, graying, past his peak. He has, like, twenty years on you. Once he made some reference about Bruce Springsteen and, when your face blanked, he sighed and took the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

I know who Bruce Springsteen is, asshole, you’d said, just didn’t get that reference.

He’d shaken his head and given you a sly, twisted smirk, then pushed you out the door of the apartment block you guys were searching.

Still, despite the years between you, you have one major thing in common.

You’re both good at getting each other…there.

Joel knows exactly what to do to make you tick. You know exactly how to push him until he does it. It’s in the way you look at him, the way you touch him. Things you say that make his stony eyes flit once down your body, and then you know you’re in.

It’s a little harder to do while on horseback, you gotta admit. The best you can do is look at him, say a sentence or two laced with want and need. Hope that he reads through the lines.

It’s worked a few times, when Joel’s suddenly found a shed or basement you can camp out in and then made it difficult for you to walk for the next couple days.

Right now, you feel too tired to even bat your eyelashes at him, never mind coming up with lines to turn him on. You’ve been on the highway for a few hours by this point, little sign of shelter anywhere nearby. Joel holds his hand out and you bring your horses to a stop in view of a hospital a couple miles ahead.

“That’s gotta be teemin’ with them,” you say, looking over to study his expression.

“Hm,” Joel agrees, and glances to the right.

“What you thinkin’? Sun’s getting lower.”

He takes a deep breath, pulls on the reins. “Know somewhere nearby.”

He heads off the highway with a click of his teeth, and you follow. You shut your eyes, chin burying beneath the collar of your shirt. You’d kinda hoped that he’d offer to clear even a small part of the hospital for you to rest up, maybe more, but you trust him enough to lead you somewhere safer, somewhere quieter.

That trust begins to wear thin, though, when the sun disappears behind the trees, drowning you guys in a low dusk, and the temperature begins to fall. Joel’s using what’s left of the gray light to guide him, slowing down to take a hold of Jet’s reins and line her up with his own horse.

“I thought you said an hour,” you mumble, grip becoming slack on the leather.

“Changed my mind,” he replies. “Almost there.”

Your eyes start to roll with exhaustion, hips aching from the position you’ve been sat in for hours now. It’s not until you notice the silhouette of a tall sign in the clearing, black against the fading purple sky, that you blink yourself awake.

Joel pulls you and Jet off the road to a deserted parking lot, shadowed by a motel. He slows the horses down, listening for any signs of life, leading them to the side of the building.

“Easy,” he whispers, pulling on the reins. Both animals come to a halt.

He slides off the saddle, hitting the ground with a thud. He takes your hands, pulling you down to him, and you glance around.

“Stay here,” he tells you, and you don’t have the energy to argue back.

He makes off, pulling his gun from his holster. You stand with a hand on each horse’s muzzle, gently petting. Joel’s gone for a decent amount of time, his silhouette slowly sneaking in and out of every room, spending a couple minutes in each before he clears it.

He returns with a box of pills, some gauze, and a bottle of water, which he hands to you. You take a long swig and pass it back, and he does the same.

“What will we do with Jet ‘n…?”

“Huh?” he asks, replacing the cap on the half-empty bottle.

“What’s your horse called?”

“She ain’t got a name.”

You tsk. “Bad owner.”

“We ain’t their owners.”

“Mine’s is Jet. Pick a name.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, but you know he’s gonna spend all night thinking up some name to go with yours. “We’ll tie ‘em up out here.”

“What if something happens to them?”

“Well,” he says, leading them toward the shelter, “if somethin’ happens to them, it only means it’s about thirty seconds away from happenin’ to us.”

He jerks his head toward the first room as he ties them up, and you know the conversation is over.

You wander into the small, dingy room, pulling your jacket from your shoulders. It smells of damp, the wallpaper’s peeling off the wall above the bed. The sheets are in disarray, a little dusty, but they look clean enough. The bathroom walls are covered in grime. Drawers empty, closet doors missing, entire place ransacked.

It’s as good as you get, these days. At least it has a solid roof.

Joel settles the horses and closes the door gently behind himself. You’re already tugging your boots off, sat at the foot of the bed.

He rests his gun on the nightstand and straightens up, stretching his back with a quiet groan.

“’s cozy,” you offer, and he nods.

“Better ‘n risking that hospital.”

The bedsprings creak when you shimmy up the mattress, resting your back against the hardwood headboard. It ain’t the most comfortable, but then it’s not meant to be, is it? It’s only meant to be safe, which Joel’s made sure of.

He stands at the bottom of the bed, watching you as you bounce up and down a couple times, laughing quietly at the sound of the springs beneath you. His expression clouds over under low brows.

“Y’okay?” you ask, tilting your head.

He nods again. Eyes flitting up and down, from your face to your neck, back up, and then lower still. Your chest. Your stomach. Your legs. You feel your heartbeat quicken when he takes a step forward.

“Just had to find somewhere better.”

“Better?” You smile. “Have you seen the world, Miller?”

He leans his knee against the foot of the bed. His brown eyes darken even more, and his jaw tenses.

“Had to find somewhere better,” he mutters, “so I could fuck you in peace.”

Your breath catches. You stare from his lips back up to his eyes. His fists are balled tight. His chest heaves with steady panting. There’s something flickering in the depths of those warm eyes; an ember, drawing you in. Tantalizing you.

You sit forward, pushing onto all fours, and crawl down the groaning bed to him, rising onto your knees when your hands meet his shirt. Your chest against his stomach, you look up into his eyes.

His rough hands knot in your hair and he pulls down, yanking your head back and your chin up to him. He studies your face, outlined in the moonlight seeping through the window. Then he lowers his jaw and lines his lips against yours.

“That what you want?” he hums against your mouth. You swallow his words – they claw at your throat as they go.

“Uhuh,” you breathe back, trying to connect your lips. He doesn’t allow you; steadily dodges your jaw like you’re a pair of negative magnets, repelling off one another. You moan.

“Needy girl,” Joel whispers. “Two weeks too long for you?”

“Mhm.”

You’re not tired anymore. You’re fucking desperate. You feel your cunt dripping, seeping through your underwear, worsened when Joel’s hand reaches down between your legs and cups you through your jeans.

You gasp and grab his arms to steady yourself.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, hand tensing around your core.

Your lip trembles as you watch the way his mouth moves, how he shapes the words. His teeth locked between soft lips, dappled with brown hair, ends singed gray. The way he almost spits the words.

Your chest meets his torso when you breathe in, a deep, shaky breath. Joel notices; the corners of his mouth twitch, holding back a smile.

“Want you to…want you…”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. He pushes you back and falls on top of you, strong body pinning you against the mattress, hand still clamped to your crotch.

His head dips to your neck where he bites, scratches and sucks, mumbling against your hot skin, “Tell me, baby. Use your words.”

Your head begins to swim, body starts pulsing with electricity. Baby. Joel’s pet names are limited to one thing. One activity.

“Want you to f– fuck, Joel – fuck me.” Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

His hand begins wrestling with the button of your jeans. Thick fingers fumbling with your zipper, taking your waistband with both hands and hauling it down. The force of it pulls you down the mattress too, squealing as Joel rips the denim from your legs. You lower your hands to help him, but once they’re tossed to the floor, he bats you away.

He’s shaking his head, tsking, then takes both your wrists in one of his huge hands. Fingers twisted around your delicate skin, pinning them above your head. The bed sighs around you when he pushes your hands into the mattress. Your back arches, your chest rising to meet his.

Your legs part, knees settling either side of his waist. Of course they do. It’s what you know now. It’s basic fucking instinct at this point.

His free hand returns to cup your sex, feeling how wet you are through your now soaked underwear.

“Baby,” he coos, “this all for me?”

You nod a little too eagerly, not that you’re present enough to care. But it beckons a smug smile from Joel, who begins sliding your panties down your thighs.

Your hips lift to let him drag the fabric down, biting your lip, not willing to wait another fucking second for him. Lace meets denim on the torn-up floor, and you sigh, settling back against the rusty bedsprings and mottled sheets.

Joel’s free hand ghosts from your wrist down to your elbow, teetering along the sleeve of your t-shirt over to the collar, where he pulls it so far down into the valley between your breasts that a small noise passes your lips.

“Hm?” he asks, fingers pausing against your breastbone.

“’s my only shirt. Don’t…”

He kisses his teeth. His gaze never lifts from your heaving chest, skin damp with sweat right underneath his fingers. You can see him tossing it over in his head. What he wants to do, versus what he probably shouldn’t.

He blinks. Decision made.

“Give you one of mine,” he growls, and hooks his fingers, dragging the fabric of your shirt lower and lower until the collar tears open and it’s another scrap lost to the motel room floor.

And then there you are, naked and writhing underneath him. He’s still in his dusty flannel. There’s sweat lining his forehead. He holds himself over you, hovering, taking every inch of you in and storing it behind his eyes.

You jerk your hands, trying to break free just to touch him, feel him, but he pulls away again, tutting.

“No, pretty girl,” Joel coos, “gonna take my time with ya.”

You moan in protest, still wriggling under his body. His grip on your wrists doesn’t loosen, not even when his free hand dips to undo his belt. The cold metal kisses your naked thighs when he pulls it through his jeans; the leather drags up your torso and across your face as he lifts it.

He takes your hands individually, careful and yet rough, urgent, and slots them between the slats of the headboard. Your head turns up to watch what he’s doing. The silver of his belt buckle knocks against the wood as he slips it under your wrists, feeding it between your skin and the mattress, wrapping it around the slat between your hands.

Then he slips the belt through the buckle, and pulls. Tight. Your hands come together, wrists kissing, the leather burning your skin the tighter he pulls. You whine, head rolling back to meet his gaze, fixed on yours.

“Since you don’t wanna listen.”

The drip in his voice, sweet like honey, smooth as whiskey, forces your legs open wider. Joel smirks, pushing himself down the mattress and out of your view.

Staring up at the gray ceiling, you’re left just to feel him. Feel him as his palms splay out on your knees, pushing them into the bed. Feel his stubble graze the inside of your thigh as he drags his tongue up, leaving a trail of wet behind.

Feel when he breathes a whisper across your aching cunt, something you can’t hear over the ruffling of sheets around your head as you toss around. And feel when his fingers part your lips, opening you up wide for him to really fucking see.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, and you find the strength to lift your head to watch. He’s leant over you, one arm hooked around your left thigh, holding it open, the other fucking…playing with you. Like you’re some fancy gadget. Like you’re brand new to him.

“So,” he runs two fingers from your clit through your folds, “fuckin’,” lines them up at your entrance, “pretty – for me.”

He pushes up into you, and your head hits the pillow with a stifled groan. You’re panting through your teeth, back arching the deeper he goes, stretching you out and rocking waves of sparkling heat through you. Waves that hit the other end of your stomach and come rippling back, throbbing around his thick fingers.

His arm bears down on your thigh, forcing your legs wide open for him. His hand cups your clit and you buck your hips, rutting against the base of his palm. Joel laughs softly.

“Patience, darlin’. Don’t want it to be over ‘fore it’s even started.”

Your head rocks back and forth, eyes tight shut. It’s all you can fucking do, tied tight to the bed. Joel pumps his fingers in and out of you, adding a third when you’re wet enough, thumb never leaving your clit.

You can feel your orgasm brewing in your stomach. Feel the tension between your hips. You’re chasing it, eyes shut, focusing only on Joel’s hand fucking in and out, in and out. You’re coming close, body pushing into the mattress, legs widening even more to let him slip a fourth finger inside you.

“Feel good?” he asks, almost with a laugh. There’s a smirk painted across his lips, you know it, even though you can’t find the energy to open your eyes.

You whimper in response, some small, muffled sound roughly shaped like yeah.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, and his wrist flicks harder.

You moan every time his fingertips kiss the edge of your cunt, pushing against the soft walls. You moan when he drags them out, leaving you empty. Again, when he pushes them back in, rough and fast. And then when he lowers his lips to your ear and tells you how good you’re being, how pretty you look, how hard he’s gonna…

It’s like he changes his mind in an instant.

Withdraws his hand, slick-covered and still hooked. Pulls it away as quickly as he pulls your orgasm from your body. It drains from you; reduces back to an ache you can’t reach.

Joel slips his fingers between his lips as he readjusts himself, repositioning on the squealing mattress. Sucks them clean as casually as he would at a cookout or something, then takes your hips in both hands and straightens you up.

His jeans are tugged down barely past his ass. He’s not prepared to waste any time ripping his own clothes off like he did yours. Just leans forward, pulls his solid cock from his boxershorts, and spits into his hand.

You watch through eyes glazed with lust as he strokes himself a couple times, eyes always on your swollen cunt, groaning as his spit coats his shaft. Then he lowers himself to you and does the same, only running his length through your folds.

You whine, feeling that familiar thickness separate you so close to where you need him, and yet so fucking far.

“Joel…” you whisper, but he’s not listening.

Transfixed on the sight of his cock moving against your soaked cunt. Listening to the sweet, wet sounds the pair of you make. His tip catches on your entrance a couple times and you gasp. Just fucking do it already.

“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath, and then…

It’s been months. Might even be years. But the feeling of him pushing inside you for the first time is still the same. Every. Fucking. Time. He’s bigger, thicker than anyone you’ve ever slept with before. And he knows it, because every single time, he glides into you without hesitation. No time for you to adjust. Just fills you up straight away, lets you deal with it later.

He’s cocky like that. Too careful when you’re on the road, and too careless when you’re between the sheets. Not that you’re fuckin’ complaining.

Your mouth falls open in a choked moan. Your lungs are gasping for air. Joel’s all you can feel.

Your elbows lift into the air, arms desperate to break free just to grab onto him, ground yourself, feel him close against you. Your wrists lock against the hardwood, leather digging into your skin as punishment for trying to break free. You’re stuck; nothing but the overwhelming feeling of him between your legs, filling you up and leaving you empty over and over again.

“Good girl,” he’s panting, still watching where his cock lines up with your cunt, and then disappears inside.

He leans down and his lips find home on your shoulder, sucking sweet marks into the skin like he always does. His tip bumps against your cervix, jolts of sensitivity pushing through you each time he bottoms out causing you to whine into his flannel.

“Fuck, Joel.”

“I know, I know. I got you. I’ll get you there again, baby.”

You had a routine. Follow his movements, follow his orders, stay alive. Deviate slightly from that routine, even for a minute, and you threw the whole agreement into jeopardy. One misstep on a crowded street dotted with cars once had a sniper open firing at you both for nearly two hours until Joel found him and put a bullet between his eyes. That time your curiosity got the better of you and Joel almost lost a hand stopping you from walking down an alleyway and straight into a wire trap.

Repeat it, Joel had said that night. Crouched by his apartment window, rain battering off the glass. Hands on the frame, ready to hoist it up and let you slip out any second. Repeat. It.

Do as you say, you whispered back. And only then did he pull the sash.

This is not the fucking routine. This is not the agreement. You fucked, of course you did. But that’s all it ever was. Hungry, touch-starved, desperate sex. Bored sex. We-almost-died-today sex. Not this.

Not: clear an entire motel just so nothing within a two-mile radius gets to hear you fuck me senseless. Strip me down, tie me up, push me to the edge with your hands, but don’t let me go without you. Curl your lips around my ear while you’re buried inside me and whisper praises. Whisper baby. Whisper…anything you like. Anything you wouldn’t say when the sun’s up.

This feels like it means something. To both of you. Feels like Joel’s looking for something in you, asking something of you. And you want to give it to him, whatever it is.

And maybe that’s the point.

He’s proving that he could make you do fucking anything. Let him tie you to a bedframe, push you close enough to the edge that you can feel the pressure of release beckoning you forward like the wind circling your ankles.

And you’re proving that you’ll do it. You’ll do what he says. Follow him to the edge, refuse to jump. Pull his body into yours, make it feel like home for a night.

He’s proving that he’ll take care of you, and you’re proving that you’ll let him.

Your wrists are burning. Leather digging marks, searing skin, then rubbing over it again and again to cut it deeper. It’s starting to hurt, if you’re honest with yourself. Your face probably gives it away.

Probably, possibly. Definitely.

Joel notices you quieten and lifts his head from the crook of your neck. Studies your face for a fraction of a second and knows.

“Hey,” he says, reaching up. He loosens the belt with one hand whilst still deep inside you, hips thrusting slowly just as a place marker.

When your hands slip free, Joel’s clasp gently around your wrist, fingers delicate over the sensitive, reddened skin. His eyes almost glisten at the sight.

“Baby…” he whispers.

“’s okay,” you reassure him, loosening his grasp on you and settling your shaky hands on his jaw. “I’m okay. Liked it.”

Joel lowers his forehead against yours and picks his pace up again, and you moan into the space between your lips. Your legs lift higher, knees bumping against his shoulders. His hips snap into yours, his jeans rutting against the inside of your thighs, the bed creaking with each messy thrust.

“Close, baby,” his voice vibrates against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whine, chest pushing against his. “Fuck. Right there. Fuck.”

Your arm drapes over his shoulder blades, nails dig into the rough cotton of his shirt. Your left hand is still at his jaw, fingers caressing his cheek. Joined together at your hips and your brows, gaze never really meeting for longer than a second, but still. You’re right there. Joel – he’s right there.

It’s new, it’s intimate. It’s almost…sweet.

“Gonna cum with me?” he asks, sincerely. He’s not trying to coax it out of you. He’s checking that you want to fall over the edge. Not for him, not because of him, but with him.

You nod and he returns it, sweat sticking his dark hair to his forehead.

With his eyes on you, flitting between your parted lips and your batting eyelashes, too scared to settle on either place for too long, he lifts your hips and fucks into you fast. Deep. Fucking – hard. Skin slapping against yours, breath hot and tangling with yours between your lips.

The pressure between your hips begins to build again, rapidly, Joel adding to it with every movement. Every push of his thick cock against your walls only draws them in tighter, closing around him, holding him closer to you with each moan escaping both your lips.

“Darlin’…” he murmurs in a broken voice, and you know. He’s starting to falter. Thrusts weakening.

“’m there too,” you reply, gasping for breath.

“Let me – feel you,” he says, “pretty girl.”

Maybe it’s the fact you don’t normally talk. Maybe the fact he never touches you the way he has tonight. Maybe it’s him wanting you to cum first, before he will.

Or maybe it’s pretty girl, that finally sends you over.

You look so good to him. You’re being so good for him. ‘n he can’t help it, has to let you know. Has to let every thought that passes through his head slip out past his tongue.

Pulling his chest flat against yours, you throw your head back to the pillow with a moan so filthy, so guttural that you’d be surprised if you don’t have company in five minutes.

Joel’s at your heels, face buried between your breasts, groaning into your chest as his cock twitches deep inside you and you feel him fill you up.

Your orgasm’s still knocking you senseless, every nerve in your body electrified. You’re holding Joel tight to your body, his ear flat to your chest, and you know he can hear your heartbeat. Know he’s listening to it throwing punches from behind your ribcage.

He’s still groaning through his breaths, heavy and thick with his release. Cock still deep inside you, still, softening. You lay like that for…well, you’ve no idea how long. But after a bit, Joel pulls himself up off of you and wanders into the bathroom.

You sit up on your elbows, taking deep, steady breaths, and let the stars in your vision dissipate. Joel emerges a couple minutes later and finally tugs his jeans down. He lifts both his shirt and the tee underneath off in one motion, tossing them onto the sideboard, then slips back under the covers, wordlessly hooking a hand around your upper arm and pulling you down onto his chest.

Your legs intertwine with his. There’s cum seeping out of you onto his thigh. Both of you, mixed up as one. His fingers sift through your hair, doing little to untangle it but trying all the same. His breathing in time with yours, his lips pressed safely to the crown of your head.

Before you know it, you’re sleeping.

Dawn breaks early. Too early. You’re still tangled up in Joel, feeling his chest rise and fall. Listening to his heartbeat – slow, calm. The drapes – not that there’s much left of them – are too thin to stop any light from flooding in. It’s only a matter of time before he wakes up.

The rough sheets sting against your wrists – red marks scoring them where Joel’s belt had been. You wince, running light fingers over the grazes, hissing at your fingertips as they go.

It hurts way less than it thrills you. This little reminder of what you did last night. What Joel did. The pain subsides the longer you touch the scars, knitted brows melting into a smile.

You slowly lift your head, propping yourself up on your elbow. Just watching him. The dust in the room frames him in a sea of white glitter, the slow-emerging sun lights across his face and dips where the scar on his nose sits.

His arms are still around your waist, cradling you. Holding you to him. You know he’s stirring when they tighten, and then fall loose. Façade back up. Walls slowly rebuilding.

You dress yourselves in silence. Run out of words to say. There ain’t nothing to say – nothing that wasn’t said last night. Joel sinks into the mattress beside you to tie his laces, and your arms brush against one another a couple times. It’s like fire on ice.

He’s first to leave the room. Just pulls his jeans over his boots and stands, unlocks the door and lets the light flood in. You check once over for anything left behind, and slip out. The air is cool, twilight still slowly washing away. You sling your jacket over Jet’s back and pull yourself up.

Joel’s t-shirt is loose over your shoulders. He gave you a fresh one from his bag. It smells like him, but you don’t let him see when you bury your nose into it to breathe him in. The hem bunches up over the top of your thighs once you’re sat on the horse.

His eyes scan down you once, surveying you in hisshirt. Then he swerves off back toward the road, silhouette cutting between the rays of sun streaming between the pine trees.

“Ghost,” he tosses over his shoulder.

“Huh?” You click to Jet to follow.

“Horse’s name. Ghost.”

“How come?” you ask when you’re side by side with him.

He shrugs, upper lip turning. “When it’s dark, you can’t hardly see her. She’s like a ghost.”

Joel’s hand surfs gently across Ghost’s mane, fingers scratching her shining coat. Your bodies rock in time with the sway of the horses’ walking. The echo of their hooves on the asphalt masks the silence for a few moments.

“Alright,” you eventually accept, turning away to watch the sun lift above the prickly treetops.

And to hide the smile tugging on your lips.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

[repulsiveliquidation]

Scars || Alexia Putellas

Summary : you finally let Alexia be intimate with you. A little detail slips your mind but she soon uncovers the truth behind your hesitation to let her love you how she wants to.

warnings : smut in the beginning but nothing too explicit. angst. mentions of self-harm and bullying.

“Mm, amor you smell so good…” Alexia moans, kissing your neck. You smile and arch your back into her, biting your lip. She leaves wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones, nipping at them slightly. You giggle and tell her to stop tickling you with her blonde brunette hair, your hands tucking the loose strands behind her ears.

You hear her take a sharp inhale of your scent and feel your core throb at the deep sigh she lets out. Your hands cradle her head as she looks up at you, eyes darting down to your lips as she licks her own.

“Used that body wash you like,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss her. She kisses back immediately and you feel her melt, large hands pulling your waist closer to her.

“So beautiful,” Alexia whispers only for you to hear, the random assortment of rings on her hands leave cold shocks on your exposed skin.

 Her hands roam your build with determination as her lips nip and nibble on your chest. She pulls the tank top off you and takes a breast into your mouth, suckling gently. You shudder and moan her name unashamedly, chasing the feeling she left on your chest as she moved to the other breast. She kneaded the other and you could feel the groan in the back of her throat, strong thighs keeping yours wide open how she wanted.

The cold air in the room kept your nipple taut and hard, her fingers rolling them around as she rushed forward to kiss you.

“May I?” she asked politely, pupils dilated and full of lust.

“Please,” you beg and you see the look in her eyes darken.

But all this fun was about to be cut short.

You forgot one tiny thing.

But you couldn’t warn her before she pulled your sweats off.

“Cariño, what is all this?”

You take a split second to understand what she meant and when you finally realize it, she had seen most of it.

“No!” you yell, pulling the sweats back over your thighs and bounding for the bathroom almost tripping over yourself.

Your teenage years were not easy. Abandoned by your father and neglected by your mother, you ran away from home at age 7 hoping for a better chance at life. Two months on the streets, you were left cold and hungry, when a kind slightly elderly couple took you in. Sharon and Thomas gave you a roof over your head, hot food, and clothes; most importantly, a home.

They were both school teachers; Thomas taught PE and Sharon taught English. They were kind and gave you free reign in life.

Thomas taught you how to play football and while you were good, English was your passion. Writing came so naturally to you, Sharon was the one who suggested you write your first book. So you did. Poems came so easily to you, the words filling pages so fast, Thomas could barely keep up with buying you new ones.

Being an accomplished writer at 15 was unheard of, which gained you some local fame.

But with fame, came a price you wished you didn’t have to pay.

A local rival publishing team that had rejected your book was vengeful of the success it gained and did a little digging. They found your parents and your past, learning about your brief stint at homelessness and how you ran away from home at 7.

The headlines the next day were the topic of bullying from a group of mean kids at school. You didn’t remember their names now, years later but their words rang fresh in your mind if you allowed yourself to spiral.

Each word was one stroke of the blade over your perfect skin.

Each bloom of blood was the pain fading away.

Or so you thought.

Somehow the next day, their fresh set of insults doubled the pain. It made your chest tight, your head pound, your grades drop and your passion for writing evaporate.

“Nothing new in your notebook, peanut?” Sharon asked so sweetly, finding you sipping on tea in the sunroom. She brushed your hair back sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Nothing,” you lied. There were new things. They weren’t particularly parent-friendly.

“Tom and I are heading to a school meeting, dinner’s in the oven for you, okay?” she walks away, a knowing expression on her face. She can sense the pain like she was your own mother but kept her mouth shut.

“I love you,” she added and you looked at her, close to tears. If she could tell, she made no move to let you know she did but smiled when you said it back to her with a forced one. It broke her heart but she did not know that yours broke more.

You sat in your bathroom, hands clammy and shaking. The blade glimmered back at you like it was taunting you.

“It’ll take the pain away,” you convinced yourself, pressing the cold object over your mangled skin on your thigh.

The blood washed away but more pricked to the surface with each cut. Soon the water turned a dark red, and your head dully thudded against the glass wall, the pain fading into numbing nothingness.

The beeping of the monitors around you was what roused you. There were too many lights and lots of voices at once, but your mother’s sobs were instantly recognizable.

“Where did we go wrong, Tom?” she asked your father, “how did we not know?”

“I don’t know, Shar,” he said, sounding sad, “I don’t know.”

His next words broke you more than any bully's words could.

“I’m sorry we failed you, kiddo. Dad’s sorry.”

“You didn’t fail me, Dad. You saved me,” you mumbled, tears filling your eyes as they pulled away from one another and rushed to your bedside. Mom hugged you tight and thanked her stars you were okay while your father held your hand and kissed it over and over.

“There’s my little girl,” he said, looking teary himself.

“You saved me, both of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner,” you apologized but they were not hearing none of it.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to us, peanut. The best.”

You don’t know when you started to build the dam in your heart but it broke the moment your parents held you in their arms. The safety of their arms was something you didn’t know you craved. But when they gave it to you, all your pain went away.

You never felt that safety from anyone else. Until you met Alexia.

You were merely a fan in the stands, dragged to a Barcelona game by your friends at work who happened to have an extra ticket to a Liga F game. She caught your eye and you hers, shy smiles and a hastily bought jersey from the stands outside got you her signature and her number written below it.

It took two coffees and a single baked good to know you were marrying this woman. She was funny, kind, loyal, inspirational, and simply devoted to you.

But most importantly, her arms were a safe haven. For you and your thoughts that still lingered to this day.  

You explained every one of the scars on your legs after she had begged for you to let her into the bathroom. One thing about your relationship with Alexia was that you were sure she was too good to be true.

Part of you wanted her so badly, but the other part convinced you that she would leave the moment she saw the scars. the mangled skin from years of reopening wounds. The bumps and ridges that cheap blades from the corner store got you on a teenager’s allowance.

And when she didn’t leave, you hated that you felt her pity. This world-class football player felt bad for the girl she met in the stands at one of her games. But she didn’t. She sat with you and listened, eyes and mind solely focused on you.

“Show me your scars,” she asked.

“But why?” you answered, albeit through sobs.

“I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

It wasn’t long before you were back in her arms again, safe and sound, ready to be fiercely loved by her for the rest of your life.  

[fairyrcts]

WHY WHY WHY , M.S.

by fairyrcts contents - (unresolved) angst , intended lowercase , pet names , 2nd person , pregnancy , cursing

warning ! - this may be triggering to some readers as this story does include pregnancy and abandonment. please read with caution.

an - i unironically love shawn mendes and i needed some dad matt stuff :P

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274

you'd woken up feeling absolutely terrible. you were sick to your stomach, throwing up every now and then.

matt sat on the bathroom floor beside you, rubbing your back in attempt to sooth you.

"this is so weird. you were just fine yesterday." he mumbled to himself.

"i fuckin' know."

you had no idea what came over you today. no one at work was sick, you hadn't eaten anything bad. you were confused as to why this was happening.

matthew knew you hadn't been in contact with anyone who was ill and you hadn't even left the house in a day or two, so he was confused himself.

he felt terrible that all this was happening to you. "do you think it might just be your period?"

his voice took you out of your thoughts. no, it wasn't your period. in fact, you were late. four days late to your period.

"uh, no. i'm pretty sure i'm late." you spoke quietly, scared of the response to what you had just admitted.

matt took a second to process the words that had left your mouth. he began racking his brain with the possibilities.

"do you think you're.. pregnant?" he could barely bring himself to say the word. he wasn't ready to be a father whatsoever.

the words hit you hard. pregnant?

"i dunno.." you managed to let out.

matt's breath audibly caught in his throat. "i- do you wanna get a test?"

you avoided the question for a moment, not knowing if you were even ready to find out.

"yeah, okay." a sigh followed your sentence.

the two of you stood up, walking out to the car in silence. he didn't bother opening your door like he usually does or ask what song you felt like playing.

he was insanely stressed. you'd only been dating 8 months but you were incredibly connected.

you'd moved in together a while back, you'd both met each others parents and to say you loved each other was an understatement.

but becoming parents? that's a completely different story.

he pulled the car into the cvs parking lot. "i'll be right back." he muttered to which you nodded.

when he exited the vehicle, you were left alone with your thoughts.

you knew you probably weren't ready for this big of a thing. having a kid together was huge and you were barely even an adult.

but deep down you knew if that test came out positive, you'd make yourself ready for the situation. and you had no doubt that you and matt could handle this within time.

right?

matthew came back with two boxes in his hand. "i got two just in case."

he gave you a tight-lipped smile to try and give you some sense of comfort. he was aware you were probably as nervous as he was.

you reciprocated that smile and drove the rest of the way home in silence.

the second you walked into your apartment you let out a deep exhale. you knew this was gonna be a heavy moment.

"uhm, okay. i'll- uh. i'll wait on the couch." matt said, finally managing to make eye contact with you for the first time in fifteen minutes, giving you some hope.

while you were in the bathroom, matt mentally lost it. he had no absolute idea how he was going to handle this if it came back positive.

he began biting his already less than short nails even farther down to the nub. he bit back his lip to keep tears from streaming down his face.

after a couple of moments, he turned his head at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

you stood in the doorway with a nervous look written all over you.

"matt, i'm pregnant." you spoke just above a whisper.

his eyes widened at the new found information.

"seriously?" he allowed himself to choke out.

you gave him a nod, a smile just barely noticeable on your face as you thought about how great this could turn out to be for the two of you.

"y/n, i'm not ready to be a dad. i'm barely 21, i can't be a fucking father." matt stood up, running a hand through his disheveled, brown hair.

your face immediately faltered. "what?"

"i'm not capable of taking care of children right now. i still have my whole life to live." he raised his voice ever so slightly, but enough to cause a few tears to leave your eyes.

"you don't have a choice. you act like this isn't partially on you too!" the words left your lips as you became more and more upset by his reaction.

this is nowhere near how you imagined this would go.

this is not the matt you knew. the matt you knew would tell you it's okay and would support you through the situation.

"it was a mistake! i can't do this!" you weren't the only one crying now as the conversation got more intense.

"that's too damn bad! you have a kid now, matthew! man up!"

matt simply shook his head, looking like he was ready to break down completely.

"i don't know what to fucking tell you, y/n." his voice came out shaky.

"tell me we're in this together! that you and i can get through this! we're a team, remember? what happened to that?!"

"what happened was you got pregnant!" he shouted, regretting what he had said instantly.

"you're telling me that all of a sudden everything between you and i has changed i'm pregnant? mind you, the person responsible for this was you!"

matt remained silent, not even knowing how to respond.

you tried your best not to lose it in front of him before he spoke up again, this time quieter.

"fucking say something, matthew!" you yelled, the words getting croaked up in your throat due to the amount of sobbing taking place.

"i'm sorry, i can't do this."

and with that, he left the apartment, leaving you alone, sobbing in your living room.

[aebinspa]

beg for you

PAIRING: winter x y/n reader

SUMMARY: Winter is your trusted, yet hated, co-worker. You both work for the South Korean secret service and are known to be a match made in heaven when it comes to killing or making someone disappear. Your already precarious relationship changes when you are assigned to find, and mercilessly kill, Choi Ye-won, a North Korean spy who has settled in South Korean territory.

GENRES: angst, violence, suggestive, death, blood, bad ending!

WORD COUNT: 3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! as you can see graphic design is my passion (i tried please ignore). i don't know if i'm good at writing stories like this but i tried!! i'll make it up to you by writing next time something extremely sweet for minjeong :))

It was night. Not even a sound seemed to rise in that total silence. The only noise the human ear could have heard was your breathing and your colleague's combined. The one who broke the religious silence was your colleague who began to reload the magazine of her gun. “Winter, for the love of God, be quiet” whispering had never been easy for you and, with a colleague like that who drove you crazy every second, all you could train was patience, certainly not silence. “There is no one in this hole in the forest anyway. And what's a mission without a little action?” she replied sarcastically to you with a raised eyebrow.

You, Panther, and Winter, your colleague, had been tasked by the South Korean secret service agency to find, interrogate, and then eliminate without any mercy Choi Ye-Won, informant and daughter of one of the most important men, at a managerial level, of North Korea. The young woman had been in South Korea for a few years and could get a huge amount of information to the North, without ever being traced. For a week, however, the secret services had been breathing down her neck and seemed to have discovered one of her many secret hideouts.

“I've always said that. Kill and let kill, what’s wrong with that? We are the God who decides what is right and wrong” Winter snorted, whose code name described her perfectly. “You’re crazy. We should only kill when it’s strictly necessary. What’s so nice about knowing you’ve taken someone’s life?” even though you knew no one was around, you persisted in whispering. “That you stole his life and his last words. He will die seeing you and no one else"

You and Winter thought differently about everything – it was always a debate. Nothing ever coincided when it came to you. Life, death, and desire were concepts that took two totally different paths in your subjective vision.

“Let’s stop for today, this little princess of the North won’t be captured so easily” “Well, what are you going to do?” A spark lit up in the eyes of the young girl with whom you share this difficult job. Winter took the gun and threw it as far as she could; it ended up near the abandoned house that you were observing from behind the trees. You turned to her, speechless; Winter walked past you with a satisfied smirk and headed toward the house

“Are you dumb?” “Why?” “First you complain about my inability to understand how important it is to do everything by the rules and now, not caring, you are perched on a criminal’s bed.” You yawned loudly and invited her to sit next to you.

Winter, despite appearances, sometimes seemed to let down that insurmountable barrier. The eyes, almost always empty and dull, sometimes revealed an unusual light that would have made even the darkest place shine. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself staring at her: her blonde hair, now gathered in a high bun, and the heavy black makeup made her seem more attractive - and cold - than usual.

“Are you kidding, right?” “Can't stand me at all?” your cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s counterproductive to get attached to someone you work with, Panther. Learn some basic rules” “So if we didn’t work together, would you be able to get attached?” Holding Winter’s gaze was an impossible mission; the mission you were trying to execute was child's play in comparison. You turned away unable to continue looking at those two puddles.

An unexpected thud made you turn towards the door, both with loaded guns and two lives to protect. You both exchanged a knowing look, before hearing another thud and coming back to attention. Winter didn’t fail to make a sarcastic comment before thanking God for sending you to die or kill.

“Don’t shoot” The first thing they taught you when you were still spending your days training was to not trust anyone. Sure, you wouldn’t shoot until you were shot, but you couldn’t say the same about your partner. You turned to look at her and noticed that she didn’t have any killer instinct. “Don't shoot for any reason, Y/n”

It was the first time she called you by your name. In astonishment, the gun slipped from your hands which had turned to butter. The next second Winter was pointing the gun at you.

“What are you doing?” “I thought you would end up getting more upset when this time came. I was wrong, maybe you are more qualified than I expected” “Winter” your angry gaze for the first time was able to hold the icy one of your colleague. “Everything will be fine, just do what I say”

These were the last words you heard, then something in your mouth prevented you from rebelling, and finally, darkness.

In a hotel room with furniture of questionable taste and an air that smelled of rottenness, you opened your eyes after a few hours. Your hands and feet were tied together, your mouth was dry and your hunger was starting to eat you from the inside. The first sensation when you woke up you also hoped would be the last. You didn't know where you were, you weren't completely aware of the dangers around you, and above all you were without a gun. Even though the last drastic moments you had lived with your perhaps no longer colleague were flashing through your mind, you had a hard time rationalizing everything. Was the woman who had accompanied you for the last five years trying to send you to the other world? And then, who was the little girl who had joined Winter? In the whirlwind of emotions and resentment that was building up in you, the door of the room slowly opened, contributing to creating more agitation in your nervous system.

“Hey sweetie, didn't you get scared while you were waiting all here alone?” You wanted to scream, but you only then noticed that your mouth was covered with a dirty cloth that prevented you from making any sound. “I know, I know. Take it easy. First, let me introduce you to my assistant,” she came forward timidly, in front of the bed where you had been placed, the girl who had stunned you, “She’s Choi Ye-won. Or at least, it’s Choi Ye-won on the passport that brought her here.”

Your head hurts. It felt like someone had landed countless blows on your head - maybe that's what happened. All the words that came out of Winter’s mouth came to you distorted. You wanted to answer her, but everything you thought couldn’t take shape.

“Y/n” Just saying your name for the second time, you started to thrash furiously on the bed, so much so that you scared the little girl who hid behind Winter. “Calm down, let me at least get this stuff off your face…” the blond-haired girl approached with huge strides as if to make you understand that it wouldn't be a problem for her to handle you and your outbursts.

As soon as Winter pulled the fabric out of your mouth, you instinctively grabbed her right arm and bit it so hard it made her in agony.

You tried to take your first steps after the impetuous action you had done, but you immediately realized that your legs could not move. Immediately after, cold as death, a gun was pointed at your temple.

“Let's calm down so no one gets hurt, what do you say?” “I won't play your game much longer, Winter.” “You'll be the one to say the famous last words, Y/n.”

Winter was in front of you, sitting on a wicker chair that screamed to the world that it had been clandestinely manufactured. The little girl, now sitting on the bed where you had been, was looking at you with a grim look.

“Ask me what you want.” Winter had no intention of letting you breathe: every word was accompanied by a lethal look and a gun pointed at you. Her ways were familiar to you but feeling the effect on your skin was something else entirely. “Who are you?” Winter looked at the little girl on the bed and then rested it on you. “Are you already ready to die?” “Answer me so I can die without regrets.”

Winter stood up from the chair and came closer, then sat on your lap and put her arms around your neck. This time the gun went to place behind your head. “What’s going through your head is probably right, Y/n” “Stop calling me that. I’m still in a work context” A disturbing giggle left the blonde’s lips. “I always told you: perfection will kill you”

This time Winter ran a finger over your lower lip and then over your upper lip. He gingerly approached your lips, kissed you, and then bit you so hard it made you bleed. The drop of blood hit your neck until it reached the hollow of your breast. Winter looked you in the eyes before smiling and lowering her head slightly; she slowly licked the trickle of blood. She met your eyes once more and licked her lips before speaking.

“I’m Choi Ye-won” A simple answer was enough to send you into a state of confusion. All the certainties, everything you had shared in the last five years flashed before your eyes: when was the truth falsehood and falsehood truth? “Prove it to me” Winter snorted loudly. “That’s my younger sister, she was brought to South Korea a few months ago and now everyone is convinced that she’s Choi Ye-won. They thought they had found the right person,” another stupid, irritating laugh came out of her mouth “But the right person is me and I’ve always been here. Next to you, next to the secret services, and close – maybe too close for your tastes – to South Korea”

“Why?” “Explain yourself better, Y/n” “What does all this mean?” Winter dropped the gun and, with her free hands, began to stroke your hair. “Unfortunately in all of South Korea, the agents chosen to carry out this mission were the two of us. The prey and the hunter. You understand that one of us had to disappear, one way or another”

The cold coming in from the large window of the room had numbed your body. You were unable to move. “So you're going to kill me?” “I'm not going to let you live”

Still sitting on your lap, Winter moved the gun from behind your head to your heart with a coldness that seemed forced even for her. “I know very well that after telling you everything you won’t let me escape to my country with my sister. I can’t stay here anymore. Winter only exists on South Korean soil and in your heart” “Winter is you” “No, I am Yewon. You're Y/n. I don't need to know anything else to make my own decisions."

A staring contest as painful as yours had never been seen, and yet you should have been two of the most feared women in Korea. Cold hands, throbbing hearts, and blood were all that remained of you. This time it was you who approached the blonde to kiss her and, Winter, without being told twice, returned a kiss that was anything but sweet: blood and saliva mixed, your wound continued to bleed and Winter couldn't help but be violent even in a moment that should have meant something else entirely.

“When?” “When I’m ready” “And when will you be ready?” Winter stood up from your lap and immediately the cold air hit you mercilessly. “I have to save my sister. I’m sorry, in another life maybe it would have gone differently” “It’s not your fault. After all, you always told me that it’s counterproductive to make friends at work” Winter laughed loudly at the word “friends” and then left the room with her sister. They both wished you goodnight. That day you abandoned the idea of ​​sleeping and kept your eyes open for fear that someone would kill you without giving you the chance to see her one last time.

The next morning Winter seemed intent on carrying out the final act. She was gripping the gun with all her strength and, as she paid the bill, her hand was shaking. The two sisters had planned to leave that day. They had taken a suitcase and filled it with any junk that might pass them off as respectable people. Watching them get ready so hastily confirmed to you that the two were desperate and couldn’t wait to leave and get protection. Are you willing to leave everything behind, Winter?

You walked side by side. Winter held the fully loaded gun behind your back. The two had revealed to you that a North Korean collaborator would come to pick them up and take them safe and sound, after a nice trip around the Sea of ​​Japan, back to their homeland.

“How old is your sister?” you asked, bored by the situation you found yourself in. “Sixteen” “Um. It must be fun for you to put a minor in danger.” “I have never killed or let people get killed who had nothing to do with the shady dealings their guardians were involved in.” “Your work ethic is sometimes worse than mine.” “Um?” Winter turned to look at you, shocked to hear such a serene tone.

You stopped, noticing how the boat that was waiting for the two young girls was a wreck in all its parts. “I see that North Korea treats you well” “There is no reason to expect more than salvation”

In Winter’s eyes, you see a new form of anger, rejection, and renunciation. The blonde touched the trigger of the gun and pointed it at you. “Y/n, I know it may seem terrible as an ending, but at least I will be the one to kill you. Your companion, your beloved and, soon, the incarnation of death” “Uhm” “Your last words?”

Looking into Winter’s eyes was a great way to distract her, and the five years you had spent together had proven that. You smiled cheekily, not losing eye contact with the blonde. “Maybe you really do have a heart too”

A second later a scream broke the unhealthy atmosphere between you and your colleague. Winter quickly turned in fury towards the scream uttered by her sister, who now found herself in the arms of the man who was supposed to take them to North Korea. “Leave my sister, you fucking idiot!” Oh, how satisfying it was to see a cold and calculating woman lose all her composure in an instant.

The man had a gun pointed at his younger sister’s temple. “Winter” In response, the girl turned violently towards you, pointing the gun straight at your forehead. This time it was you who had an annoying smirk on your face.

“That man works for the Secret Service, he’s a colleague of ours. There’s an entire squadron nearby ready to intervene at the first gunshot” Winter was shaking. “I'm about to offer you an advantageous deal” “Speak, you ugly bitch” “Leave the gun” "Never"

Winter had perhaps forgotten that in martial arts you had been at the top of your class for years. With a quick gesture, you threw the blonde’s gun as far away as possible. Now it was you who had the gun pointed at the young North Korean girl's forehead. Winter started laughing. “When did you realize that?” “When we were in that shitty little house and you came out with sentences I’d never heard before. Killing is your life, saying you didn’t want to do it was a pretty strong warning signal, don’t you think?”

“What do you want, Y/n?” “Your life.” Winter didn’t look scared at all. “And what do I gain from it?” “Your sister will live. I will personally send her back to Korea and cover up any clues or traces that could lead her back to you.” “Was I her doom?” “You can be her salvation.”

Winter turned to her sister and told her to cover her eyes and ears. “I trust you, Y/n.” “Me too. I know I wouldn’t screw up. Work is work and…” “Death is death. Don’t make it long and kill me.”

You pulled the trigger. You looked into Winter’s eyes one last time. The blonde seemed to feel the same. She was shaking, but nothing could stop you from completing the mission. “Thank you for everything, Winter. We���ll complete the mission together this time too” “Spare me this bullshit”

A gust of wind ruffled both of their hair, Winter’s sister let out another scream and started to cry. Tears were streaming down her face.

“Winter, your last words?” The girl smiled like you’d never seen her do. She chained her black pools in your eyes and whispered the next words. “Y/n, I loved y-”

You didn’t let her finish. One blow and the girl’s body was lying helpless on the ground. The pool of blood that formed beneath her seemed to be a representation of the blood she had taken from everyone she had killed over the past few years. She had been a liar, a murderer, the top of her class, and also the love of your life. You turned and signaled to your colleague to leave in the boat, which silently went away along with the tears of a younger sister left alone.

In the months that followed, the secret service agency named you and Winter the best agents they had ever had. Your names were now both imprinted on the golden walls of the department waiting room. No one ever knew that Winter was Choi Ye-Won; everyone cried her name believing that she had been killed by the North Korean whose body and traces you had then eliminated. Winter's sister remained safe in North Korea.

In your memories Winter was never Choi Ye-Won, but always and only Winter. Like the cold earth that now enveloped her body. In the future you asked your colleagues, when your time came, to bury you next to your beloved, yet hated, colleague. Choi Ye-Won was born and died as Winter in your heart.